AN: I know it's been awhile... thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites! This is kinda a filler chapter so if it's boring, I'm sorry. In this chapter italics means dreaming. I'm going solely off what we know from the cinematic universe so I don't know if Pietro becoming enhanced is canon. I hope you like! PS: Reviews make me write faster ;)

Chapter 4: Fitful Sleep

For the first few hours after being rebandaged, Pietro was out like a light. His damaged body was overcome with such exhaustion, his mind couldn't even dream. But that didn't last. As the pain meds were absorbed by his rapidly repairing cells, the effect diminished and though Pietro's body still slept, his subconscious awoke….

"You know, I'm twelve minutes older than you." He looked at his twin and gave a cocky smile.

Despite the destruction and devastation around them, she gave a small laugh and smiled back. "Just go."

He lingered for a moment longer, watching his sister. Just weeks ago she never would have been this confident and self-assured. She turned away from him, taking her place standing above the core with red magic swirling around her fingertips. It still fascinated him; the powers HYDRA had given her. His enhancements made sense. Increased speed and physical stamina. But her's… he had no idea what that was. It scared him a little bit, though he'd never tell her that.

With one last look at her, he turned on his heel and sped away.

He groaned in his sleep. That was the last time he saw his sister. Before he "died." And the last thing he would have said to her would have been "I'm twelve minutes older than you." She was all he had in this world and he was all she had. And now she thought him dead. In his sleep, Pietro's brow furrowed and he shifted positions. He was still sleeping on his stomach, not having the strength to turn over in his sleep.

….She screamed with such emotion, such raw pain, such agony. A heart wrenching scream that must have left her throat raw. She fell to her knees, unable to stand, the pain too much. An energy blast radiated outwards from her body, fueled by sheer heartbreak and rage. It obliterated everything within a 100 meter radius of her. Her body gave out and she slumped back on her feet, still kneeling amid the wreckage of Ultron sentries. Her hands dropped down on either side of her body and her head fell, chin resting against her chest. For a heartbeat she stayed like that, letting the soul consuming sadness wash over her. And then she lifted her head and opened her eyes. There was such a fierceness there, such fury, she looked like a completely different person. As her hands clenched into fists, her nails scrapped against the concrete. Scarlet red magic churned around her. With her jaw clenched, she rose to her feet. She was the embodiment of rage, barely controlled. She took a step and Heaven help whoever it was she was heading for.

With a strangled gasp, Pietro jerked up in bed. His skin was drenched in cold sweat and the stiff hospital bed sheet clung to his arms. He pushed himself up on his elbows and forced his breathing to even out. Pietro's heart thudded against his chest. He couldn't get the image of his sister's enraged expression out of his mind. He somehow knew this was his sister's reaction the moment he "died," even though he hadn't been there to see it. He supposed he was seeing this now through their twin connection that had been enhanced when Wanda had undergone the HYDRA experiments.

Once his heart rate slowed and his breathing returned to normal, he heaved himself over with his right arm and rolled onto his back. Pietro grit his teeth and let out a hiss as his back hit the bed's surface. The pain relieving effects of his meds was wearing off but he still felt sleepy and sluggish. But he couldn't go back to sleep with the image of his sister in pain in his mind's eye. So instead, he forced himself to look around his room. It was dark now, all the overhead lights had been shut off. The thin strip of lighting right above the head of his bed had been dimmed. There was a red glow above the 'whooshing' door to his room that was the exit sign. The temperature had been lowered also, making it physiologically ideal for sleeping. The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft 'hum' of the machinery around his bed, remotely monitoring his vitals.

With the cool, dark air and the rhythmic hum, Pietro felt his body relaxing back into sleep….

He had just received his last treatment. The blue glow of the scepter was still burned into his retina. They were escorting him back to his room, which was more like a cell. A soldier had to be on each side of him, each gripping his upper arm, supporting his weight. He was weak, so weak. And in pain. This was the only time he regretted volunteering for this project. He had screamed while they had subjected him to the scepter's power. His throat was still raw. As they dragged him through the halls, they passed his sister. She was walking of her own accord, the doctor leading her and a soldier trailing close behind. When he was level with her, he raised his head which took a great deal of effort. He felt panic gripping his chest, strangling his heart, making it hard to breath. He couldn't let his sister do this. He couldn't let her feel that pain. They were twins but he was the oldest. He had to protect her. He was the only one who could since their parents died. With a crazed look in his eyes, he met her gaze. It took every ounce of energy left in his body but he planted his feet on the floor and fought the forward movement of the soldiers. "Wanda! Don't! Don't do it!" His guards forced him on, pulling him off his feet. He stumbled forward but craned his neck to look behind him. Meanwhile, the soldier behind Wanda had taken her by the forearm and hurried her along down the hallway in the opposite direction with the doctor. Wanda looked around to meet her gaze, her eyes wide, but they forced her along. The next thing he knew, he was shoved unceremoniously into his cell and the door was slammed and locked behind him. He faltered, still week on his feet, and collapsed on his hands and knees on the hard, concrete floor. The pain and exhaustion over took him. He looked up at his cot of a bed, just a few feet away. It seemed like a mile. His arms shook and he fell flat on his stomach on the cold floor and passed out…. When he awoke, he felt a strange, incessant energy buzzing through his veins. He felt as if every muscle was itching to move. Every nerve felt hypersensitized. He felt restless and antsy; like he had to get up and move, run. He opened his eyes and pushed himself off the floor. He didn't know how long he slept but he was surprised that he wasn't at all sore or in pain, especially seeing as he had slept on the cold, concrete. He stood and felt stronger, more powerful. He still felt the impulse to move. He figured it was probably his muscles feeling stiff from laying on the floor. Even though he didn't actually feel stiff. He decided to stretch his limbs, maybe jog in place for a minute and get his blood moving. He took one step and suddenly found himself on the other end of his cell. He blinked, confused. His cell was small, but not that small. He took another step and was flung up against the opposite wall. Another step. He crashed into the small table beside his bed. Another. He moved with super human speed and smacked into the thick Plexiglass wall that allowed the scientists to observe him. That's when it came rushing back to him. His last painful, excruciating treatment with the scepter. The final treatment. They one that would solidify him as an enhance being with super human powers. He brought his hands up in front of his face and surveyed them. What had he become? What had they turned him into? He dropped his hands and looked at the wall to his left. The wall that separated him from his sister. What had happened to her?

Pietro woke with a start. His vision was blurry and his limbs felt weak and heavy. The room was still dark and cool but something was different. There was someone standing over him on the right side of his bed. Blearily, he looked up into the face of the person beside him. She looked vaguely familiar but he was so sleepy he wasn't sure who it was. She smiled down at him and he realized she was holding his arm. He felt a slight poke and he had the hazy thought of someone giving him an injection of pain meds. He blinked once, his eyelids heavy, and on the second blink, he was asleep.

He felt a pain like he had never felt before. A raging fire across his back and chest, radiating down into his legs and across into his arms. His mouth felt like it was permanently clenched in a grimace of pain. His eyes were squeezed shut. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hand, breaking the skin. He felt the subtle trickle of warm blood down his wrists but that was nothing compared to the pain he was in. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted to go back asleep; fall back into the darkness from which he had awoken. But aside from the pain, there was a beeping. An annoying, persistent beeping that didn't stop. With each beep the sound seemed louder and shriller, driving him further away from the comfort of the darkness he was so trying to slip back into. He let out an agonized growl between his clenched teeth. The effort of even that small exertion caused the pain to flare stronger. The beeping intensified. But then, above that sound, he heard a voice.

"Oh my God, he's awake!"

Another joined it. "That's not possible."

"Look at the heart monitor. The brain activity."

"Oh God. Give him another dose of anesthetic. Double the first. STAT!"

"Double? But Dr. Short, that could kill him."

"He's different. Enhanced. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Double. Quick, before he comes to full consciousness and tries to move. He'll worsen his wounds if he does."

There was a sharp prick at the nap of his neck. And then, thankfully, mercifully, the darkness engulfed him, the pain vanished, his mind numbed, he felt heavy, and he slept.

Pietro knew he was awake but he didn't want to open his eyes. So he laid there, listening to the ambient sounds of the medical facility. The occasional roll of a cart or hospital bed outside his door, the hum of machinery, the padding of footsteps, the muffled P.A. system in the hall. The temperature had also risen and someone had pulled his sheet up to his chin. He felt comfortable despite the dull throb in his back that reminded him of his wounds.

Pietro still felt exhausted; like he hadn't slept at all. His sleep had been plagued with nightmares of his past. Terrifying reminders of everything he had been through lately. He wanted to fall back asleep but through the skin of his eyelids, he could tell the lights in his room had been turned on. He had no idea what time it was but morning had obviously come.

And then his stomach growled audibly. He wondered how long it had been since he had last eaten. He wasn't sure.

Sleep or food? Pietro's brain debated this for awhile.

His stomach won out. Pietro pushed himself up in bed and opened his eyes. He wiped the sleep and sand from the corners and barely stifled a monstrous yawn. Looking around the room, all he saw was his water pitcher. He wound have to call someone to bring him something to eat.

Rather than turn at the waist and reach over his shoulder to the call buttons behind him, Pietro scooted in a circle on his bed until he had turned a little more than ninety degrees around. He didn't want to strain his already aching back muscles. Or break open one of his healing wounds.

Facing the call buttons, he once again had the choice between the red button which called a nurse and the purple button that called Dr. Alexa. Pietro's finger hovered in midair for a moment while he decided. He depressed the purple button. It lit up indicating the call had gone through. Now he had to wait.

Pietro wondered if he was annoying Dr. Alexa. He hadn't once called a nurse for something and all his requests had been something perfectly capable of a nurse; nothing that required a doctor. But for some reason he didn't want anyone else. He didn't trust anyone else. He still didn't really know where he was or what was going on or how exactly he was alive. But for some reason he couldn't quite explain, he felt comfortable with Dr. Alexa, he trusted her. She had a sort of aura about her that was calming and comforting. Something he couldn't help but trust.

A few moments later, the 'whoosh'ing of the doors signaled the doctor's arrival. Pietro shuffled around in his bed so he was once again sitting forward.

Dr. Alexa gave him a smile as she fully entered the room. "Well, you slept late," she said. "You must have been sleeping really well."

Pietro bit his lip. "Um, no, not really actually."

Dr. Alexa stopped at the foot of his bed and raised an eyebrow in question.

"I had a lot of nightmares," Pietro elaborated, feeling embarrassed.

He noticed that today, instead of her usual dress clothes and white coat, Dr. Alexa was wearing dark blue scrubs with the SHEILD logo on her breast pocket. He wondered why the change in attire. She perched herself at the very edge of his bed, barely sitting on the mattress. Rather than press him, for which he was thankful for, she said, "Well, it's nearly one in the afternoon so you got some much needed rest anyhow."

He nodded. Despite the fitfulness of his sleep, he did feel much better than he had the day previously.

Looking up into Dr. Alexa's face, Pietro asked, "Did you come in my room last night?"

Dr. Alexa nodded a bit sheepishly. "Yes. I just wanted to give you an extra dose of pain meds. You… you needed some good sleep after seeing your wounds yesterday. That's a lot to process."

She seemed uncomfortable so Pietro gave another nod rather than saying anything else. He was saved from further conversation by another loud growl of his stomach.

The smile returned to Dr. Alexa's face. "I'm assuming that's why you called me. Hungry?"

A third nod.

"Okay, give me a minute and I'll be back with some food." Dr. Alexa rose from the bed and headed towards the doors.

Suddenly feeling like he was treating her like a maid, Pietro said, "Thanks."

Dr. Alexa paused and turned back to him. "No problem," she said, "It's my job."

The words felt like a stab in the gut. He remembered his sister saying that to Hawkeye during the battle with Ultron. His nightmares came flooding back. He didn't want to think about his nightmares again. They left him with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Especially the one where he had seen his sister's pain the moment he "died." He didn't want to think about that. They were the only ones each other had. He didn't want to think about his sister thinking he was dead, not knowing he was alive. He didn't want to think about her alone and heartbroken.

Dr. Alexa returned a few minutes later with a tray of food. There was a plate piled high with fruit salad, what looked like a turkey sandwich, and celery sticks. Beside that was a small bowl of chocolate pudding and a glass of orange juice. Dr. Alexa set the tray on the movable table and rolled it in place over Pietro's lap. He devoured the entire meal in less than twenty minutes just to keep his mind off his dreams. Dr. Alexa sat at the foot of his bed while he ate and looked over the tablet that monitored his vitals. When he was finished and pushed the table away, she looked up at him.

"Well," she said, "you up for some blood work and going over your vitals?"