Welcome to my first Avengers fanfiction!

I've seen Age of Ultron twice now and the ending completely destroyed me both times. I've been working on this idea for a while, pretty much ever since I saw the movie. A very important note: this is going to be a story with a happy ending. It's going to get really feelsy, but it'll get better. I promise.

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel or the Avengers.

Enjoy!

Years ago, Wanda had seen a star dying.

She'd been very young, only three or four. That was one of the only memories she had of the stable times, before the Sokovian government had collapsed. Her father had a friend was an astronomer. He worked at an astrology center that was filled with telescopes. Now, that building was just a bombed out wreck-all the telescopes had been pilfered for the necessary ingredients to make bombs and bullets. And yet she still remembered how those telescopes could see light years into space in any and every direction. She had-and still did, if she was being honest-found it amazing.

Pietro had run back and forth from telescope to telescope, fiddling with a knob here or a dial there as he tried to get the best view of the night sky. Wanda had stayed by his side, as ever. Even back then, they knew their job had been to look out for each other-and for Wanda that usually entailed making sure that Pietro didn't do something especially stupid.

Suddenly their father had scooped them up, one in each arm, as they giggled and squirmed futilely. "My little troublemakers." he said, planting a soft kiss on each of their brows, "Would you like to see a real star?"

He carried them over to a spot across the observation deck where his friend, Morris, was fiddling with a long telescope that extended far off the side of the railed in balcony. Wanda watched the city below them go by with interest. Cars whizzed past on roads that looked like slightly smudged pencil lines and buildings sparkled like Christmas trees.

Morris held her up to the telescope's level, pressing her eye to the eyepiece. "Do you see that, Wanda? That's a star."

It was massive. Wanda had to shield her eyes against its brilliant glare as it pulsed and contracted, giving off light and flame. "Why's it doing that?" she asked curiously. "Why's it beating?"

"Because that star is dying." her father said, holding Pietro out of grabbing distance of the telescope. "Hold on, Pietro! You'll get a turn too, but just wait a few minutes!"

"Technically, it's already dead." Morris said knowledgeably. "How far away do you think that star is?"

"I don't know. As far as 'Merica?" Wanda guessed.

Both men laughed. "No, it's a little farther than America. You can travel for years and years-for your entire life-and never even get close to this star. It takes a long time for the light to reach us so we can see this star-like how it takes a long time for you to receive a letter in the mail. This star is so far away that the light is already far behind it. In fact, it's so far behind that the star has already gone supernova. It has gotten so bright that it has burnt itself out, obliterating everything in its wake."

Wanda watched the star for a few more minutes. It didn't look like it was dead to her. "When will it go supernova?" She pronounced the unfamiliar word carefully, taking care to pronounce everything clearly.

"Not for years and years-but it will sure be a sight to see when it does. Now, why don't we give your brother a turn?"

Reluctantly she let herself be set down safely on the ground again. Immediately, she walked over the edge of the building so she could go back to watching the city.

Her father glanced at her warningly, but he still had his hands full with Pietro-who was a burning ball of energy in his own right. "Remember what I told you, Wanda?"

"Of course, Papa. No flying." Pietro had wanted to jump off the balcony to see if he could fly, but their father hadn't let him.

Now, while Morris was busy with her brother, he took a seat next to her and ruffled her black hair. Wand moved closer to him, relishing in the attention. She loved her brother dearly, of course, but it was nice to have father to herself every once in a while. "You are my little stars." he said. "You and Pietro. You burn so brightly. You shine with a light, an energy, that is all your own."

It was easy to think they were stars when there were high up above the city like that, or when they were outperforming and outshining the rest of the HYDRA volunteers.

And then one day, during the battle of Sokovia, Wanda realized that her father had been wrong that night. He'd forgotten something very important about stars.

At some point, after years and years of shining light, all stars went out.

Nothing lasted forever.

For as long as Wanda could remember, she and Pietro had had an unspoken connection. They communicated through looks, gestures, and feelings-not just words. Whenever Pietro slipped and fell while treading on a patch of ice on the daily walk to school, Wanda felt the pain in her legs. Whenever she got her hair pulled on the playground, Pietro reported bad headaches. She'd felt his pain over the years, just as he did-all those scraped knees, torn limbs, and twisted ankles from afternoons spent playing games in the streets.

And yet nothing she'd ever felt had prepared her for this.

It was pain in the purest sense of the word-pure, unadulterated agony-first in her back, then her arms, then in the backs of her legs, spreading like a wildfire.

She realized this wasn't her pain. She wasn't physically hurt. Which meant-

Pietro.

Where his presence usually was, calm and reassuring, now there was nothing-just that fierce but dull fire throbbing in her gut like a chained beast. That was why she fell to her knees and screamed like the world was ending-because in a way it was. Her brother, her other half, was being torn away from her. How could she survive something like that?

Just then, she heard Steve's voice in her earpiece. "We're ready to blow the joint, Wanda. Get out soon-before all the transports leave."

"Where's my brother?" she asked, struggling to keep her voice calm. "Where is Pietro?"

Steve hesitated for just a fraction of a second too long. "He took a few bullets for Clint. He…he's not doing well, but he's still alive."

She could read between the lines. Not for much longer.

The world seemed to move in slow motion, though she fairly flew through the deserted city streets. There was no one in any of the homes, schools, or open air marketplaces that crowded the city. In fact, the vibrant city that had once been her home now felt more like a ghost town.

The transport was just about to take off. Steve flagged her down and Wanda jumped on just as the exit ramp closed with a soft clank. She leant against the side of the transport to moderate the pain. She still felt like she was in some degree of agony, but for once she felt that was a blessing. It meant that her brother was still alive.

"Are you all right?" Steve asked with concern. They were flying toward the main helicarrier; they couldn't get there fast enough for Wanda's liking.

"Pietro and I have an emotional connection. To some degree, we fell each other's pain."

"Your brother is in the hands of some of the best and most capable doctors in the world. If anyone can save him, they can."

"And what if they can't?"

"Then Pietro will have died a hero." he replied without missing a single beat. "You both fought well today. You fought like Avengers."

Hold on, Pietro. I'm coming. She didn't really care about being an Avenger. She wanted her brother by her side.

Safe.

When they reached the main craft, Steve directed her to the sick bay. He promised to be there as soon as he could. Wanda practically ran to get there, passing entire families glued to the carrier's many windows as the watched their livelihoods and all their possessions get vaporized. It would take months, maybe even years, for them to rebuild their lives. And that process certainly wouldn't take place in Sokovia.

To think she'd almost fought against them.

The sick bay was crowded with people inquiring after their loved ones. Wanda looked in one glass window after another until she found the one she needed. Pietro lay in a near comatose state on a small white bed, surrounded by more doctors, machines, and needles than she could count. He looked dead.

She shoved her way to the door, where she was confronted from a very sleep (and caffeine) deprived nurse. "I have to get in there."

The nurse tried to stifle a yawn. "I'm sorry. Only doctors and other personnel are allowed inside at this time-"

"They're trying to save my brother. He is in that room. I have to be by his side." She saw her opportunity and ducked inside. Once there, she pushed past all the other doctors and nurses crowding that bed.

And then she was facing her brother and he was facing her and nothing else mattered. They were together at last-Pietro and Wanda, the way it had always been.

The way it was always meant to be.

Pietro was covered in blood soaked bandages. His eyes were glazed and glassy with pain, but when he found her hand and squeezed it he seemed entirely alert. "Sweet sister." he whispered in a thin and raspy voice.

"Don't you dare." she replied. "Don't leave me here alone, Pietro Maximoff."

He laughed quietly. "You know I don't want to. But I am beginning to wonder if I have a choice."

"Why did you have to take those bullets? Why are you always so reckless?" She wasn't being fair to him. She knew that. If things had come down to it, she would have done the same thing.

"I couldn't let his children grow up the way we did-without a father."

A single tear snaked its way down her cheek. "Pietro…"

"I'm sorry, Wanda. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't want to..." His eyes seemed to glaze again, probably from all the medication he was undoubtedly on.

"You're a hero. How can I possibly hold a grudge? I'm proud of you. More proud than I can say." She tried to hold in a sob. "I'm scared, Pietro. I don't want to be alone."

Tenderly, he wiped her tears away. "You won't be. You have the Avengers now. They'll look after you. And besides, I won't really leave you. He took her hand and rested it on her heart. "I will always be with you…right here…whenever you need me."

"Do you promise? No matter what?" The pain was beginning to ebb away. They didn't have much time left.

"I promise. Wanda, it hurts…" For a moment there was something almost childlike about his face and the fear in his eyes. She knew she couldn't make him stay-not forever.

"I know. You can let go now, if you need to."

"I'm scared, too. I don't know where you go after…I don't know what I'll be facing."

"You've always been so smart. So courageous. Just rest now. You've done so much. Don't worry. You'll be at peace. If there's some kind of heaven, or some other kind of paradise…you'll be admitted right away. You won't even have to wait at the door. Good bye, brother. I love you, so very much." She held one of his cold hands in both of hers, trying to transfer some of their heat into his.

He ran a hand down the side of her face, from her temple to her cheek. "I love you too, Wanda. See you…" And with that his grip slackened and his eyes unfocused. Wanda felt cold and numb. She felt as though her heart had been ripped out and crushed. A crushed heart couldn't function. She couldn't live with a crushed heart.

She heard the heart monitor begin to beep ominously. The room exploded into a hive of activity around her while she sank to the floor and lay there out of the way, prone. Everything was going too fast and yet too slowly. Things moved in fits and starts. The compressions and AEDs were administered. She could hear them…one, two. One, two. She dug her fingers into the tile floor, as if that could keep her anchored when the inevitable happened.

One, two…one, two.

He was still breathing, but he wasn't alive. The Pietro she knew and loved had already moved on.

And he would never come back.

At least he had waited for her, she had to think. At least she'd had a chance to see him again, and to say her goodbyes.

"Someone check his pulse…"

"He's flatlining…"

She wanted to pretend she was a small child again, back home in Sokovia with her parents and her brother, scared of a loud thunderstorm. She wished she could go to her bedroom and curl up under the covers of her bed where everything didn't seem quite so scary. Pietro would come with her and stay with her until the last peals of thunder and flashes of light had gone away. But already, that daydream was splintering around her and breaking into little shards. That wasn't reality now. Those memories had happened to some other girl. Not to her.

"Check it."

"Nothing."

She didn't feel much like an Avenger at the moment. She was just a young adult who had lost everything she cared about.

And then there was silence.

Total silence.

"Call it." someone said after about three minutes.

"Time of death…10:12 P.M."

Repeat: things will get better within the next chapter or so.

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