Disclaimer: I do not own any of Marvel's characters, plots, or settings.

Author's Note: So, I saw Age of Ultron, and this happened in my mind almost immediately. It took a few days for me to realize that it couldn't wait until some other projects were finished, and then a few more to write and edit it. At last it is complete, and I hope you all enjoy it! Please be sure to leave a review to let me know what you think!

. . .

Refined Silver

Slow motion. That was always the manner in which the world around Pietro appeared. It had been long enough since he was "enhanced" for his thought patterns to adapt to their new abilities, and now his mind could race without affecting his interactions with others. His brain had the ability to chase a hundred rabbits down a hundred rabbit trails, and yet he would miss little or nothing of what was going on around him. It was a blessing and a curse.

And so when he was forced to leave his sister with the core in favor of helping get civilians off the city, he had time to consider things. Like how in the world did he go from trying to kill Stark and his companions to suddenly fighting side by side with them?

The change had been so quick, even for Quicksilver, that it seemed preposterous. Because not only was he counting the once-accursed Avengers as his allies, but somehow they were also his friends. His friends! He was a part of their group; a member of the team. How had it come to this?

As he zipped past crumpled heaps of rubble, taking out a stray drone with a swift punch to its head, he explored the question in more depth. The answer must lie in what had changed about him, not necessarily about the situation. Sure, the revelation of Ultron's true intentions was a pivotal event to consider, but there had been more to the whole change than that. It was as if something, some blinding vice or mental disease, had been removed from his vision since this whole mess really got started. Only after he'd spent some time with the Avengers had he seen clearly what he ought to do. But what had been eradicated from his mind?

Bitterness. The word seemed to appear out of nowhere, like the term had been enhanced to arrive just as quickly as Quicksilver could. The young man almost stopped short as he considered the possibility that his foolish aspirations had been his own fault. Yet that actually seemed correct. He had used his grief as a reason to hate, and that hate had, whether advertently or inadvertently, brought destruction and death to many people. Perhaps such a case of bitterness and resentment had been the cause of his parents' deaths.

As the streak of blue and white and grey continued his work, his mind now turned to investigate how the veil of overdeveloped self-pity had been lifted from his eyes. It was not difficult to ascertain the first instance of exposure to those who lived and fought without regard to themselves or desire for personal vengeance. The Avengers, despite the deception of their name, did not fight primarily to get even with evil, but rather to defend justice. And in all their labors and pain, they seemed content. They were proud and glad to sacrifice themselves for others, and they possessed a sense of peace in the midst of battle that Pietro had never known. Peace had been totally unknown while his heart only rehearsed the wrong done to him and refused to move on.

Yes, there was something different about the Avengers. And apparently, it was contagious, or at least it had been for him. What had Captain America done when they first fought? He had possessed the opportunity to hurt or even kill Pietro; the legendary Quicksilver had finally been taken down, and no one would have blamed the Avenger for eliminating an enemy.

Yet what had the Captain done? "Stay down, kid," had been the simple command. Of course Quicksilver had not stayed down, but had helped to add painful poison to the Captain's mind. And still, the Captain had been willing to forgive and trust Pietro after even that.

The other Avengers had displayed similar acts of kindness. Though they disagreed about many things, they always found a way to set aside their differences and work together for the good of others. They were all human; they had all made mistakes, some to the detriment of many. But they never let their failings stop them from doing what was right. They didn't let bitterness blind them to the point that they caused more problems.

The sound of gunfire near at hand snapped Quicksilver back into the present. This harsh battle—not unlike a refining fire in this Avenger's case—had made him see clearly, but he still needed to act in accordance with what he now knew. If he was an Avenger, he ought to act like it.

To his ears, it seemed that the bullets tore into the ground very slowly, like the beat of a song or the ticking of a clock. But upon lifting his gaze, he saw that rather than having a lot of time, he was suddenly out of it. The stream of bullets was mercilessly heading directly for another Avenger, and thus straight towards one of Pietro's teammates. One of his friends. It was Hawkeye, carrying a wounded child in his arms. His back was turned to the danger as he crouched down, his body acting as a shield of protection for the small boy. Typical Avenger; ready to die for another.

It was about time Quicksilver joined the club wholeheartedly.

Pietro took in all the details of the scene as he raced towards his target. What could he do to prevent this? The powerful gun would shoot straight through him if he tried to simply stand in the way, and pushing them out of harm's way could aggravate the child's injuries. But there was a vehicle lying upside down very nearby. Quicksilver was not endowed with super strength, but speed can sometimes move mountains.

The dirt flew up a few yards away as the bullets came closer and closer. Pietro reached the car and pulled it up so that it was propped as a defense for Hawkeye and the child. It was very heavy, and to keep it upright long enough to settle in real time, Pietro had to hold it steady himself, though he was still in the path of danger.

He had no time to move aside, no time to question his actions, and barely any time to let go of the now sufficiently placed vehicle before he felt the sharp bullets piercing his back, his arm, and his leg. Pain seared through his body, blood stains appeared on his clothes, and realization of his imminent death all confronted Quicksilver at once, but they did so in an almost gentle way. Perhaps this was the peace that the other Avengers felt as they fought.

Pietro was still standing, his body slow to take in the shock of his wounds. He sluggishly turned to face Hawkeye, who sat looking at him in astonishment, and his once-mocking line from their first meeting appeared on his lips.

"You didn't see that coming," Quicksilver said quietly.

Then his limbs lost their last bit of strength, and his body crumpled into the ashen earth. But as the last cords binding his soul and body were severed, he did not feel despair. Indeed, it seemed to Pietro that he had finally lived for the first time. He recalled with his dying thought the last sentence from a book he had once read, and although he didn't know why it came to mind, he felt that it had been written for him.

It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

So what did you guys think? I hope you liked it! That last quote is from A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, and it seemed to suite the situation and character very well. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading, and even a little bit of feedback would really make my day! Be sure to stick around; I have several other stories that I am getting ready to post soon!