Chapter 324: Movie Night

After Thor stepped through the portal with Loki, the rest had not lingered long.

Bruce went back to A.I.M. Betty had kept his office exactly as he had left it. Natasha and Barton returned to SHIELD with reports to file and missions waiting. Tony shut himself in his Malibu workshop, muttering at JARVIS about the Mark XI before the front door had finished closing. Carol had left before dawn for Maria’s farm, and word was she would be back in space within the week. Steve bought a motorcycle and pointed it east.

Harry and Sirius went home to a different kind of mess. With the reveal of the wizarding world imminent, Amelia was waiting for them at the Ministry, and the ICW was waiting after that.

Arthur simply went home.

—

The family of seven sat in the darkened living room that evening, bathed in the blue glow of the projection wall.

The request came before Arthur had even finished taking off his shoes.

Pietro and Elena were the most vocal. They demanded to see the battles. Wanda and Tristan backed their siblings with quieter but equally immovable solidarity.

Arthur had fully expected this. It was their unspoken tradition. Their ritual after every major supernatural event. It was family movie night.

Eve had also anticipated the request. She had compiled every piece of available drone and satellite footage into a seamless, chronological account of the invasion. It was considerably more thorough and detailed than what JARVIS had collected for Tony.

Winky prepared massive bowls of buttered popcorn, and the movie began.

They watched Manhattan first. The Avengers in action. Elena and Tristan cheered for their favorites. Tony, Hulk and Thor. Eve had expected this and smoothly edited more of their heroes’ flashy action sequences into the final cut.

Then came London.

The wizards on brooms moved in tight, ferocious formations. Spells punched through alien metal.

It was, frankly, the most thorough and beautifully organised beating in the whole film. Where the Avengers had been six strangers learning to fight together on the day, the wizards moved like a force that had trained for this. Because they had.

Harry, Neville, Draco, Sirius, and every wizard on those brooms were never really tested during the whole time. The Chitauri simply could not keep up.

"That is glorious," Wanda murmured softly, her eyes tracking the glowing spells.

She watched them fight flawlessly and felt the old pull. She could have been there. She was strong enough, and neither Arthur nor Eileen had explicitly forbidden her from going.

But in the end, she had made the quiet decision not to go.

Wanda glanced sideways at her twin brother.

Pietro was watching with bright eyes, leaning forward, his body practically vibrating with excitement. But Wanda was his twin. She could feel the thing coiling underneath it.

When the footage finally ended with Carol going supernova and blowing up the Chitauri mothership, Elena immediately demanded to see it again from the beginning.

"Tomorrow," Arthur said firmly, waving a hand to cut the projection. "After you finish your afternoon studies. Now it is time for bed."

"But Dad—"

"Tomorrow."

Elena huffed dramatically and flopped against the couch cushions, defeated but already planning her study schedule for maximum efficiency. Tristan patted her arm. She swatted him away.

And then, Pietro sat up straight.

As everyone’s attention turned toward him, he spoke the thought that had been eating at him all day.

"I should have been there."

The room went quiet.

Eileen looked softly at her adopted son. "Pietro. We discussed this."

"I know we discussed it." He gestured aggressively at the frozen, darkened screen on the wall. "But look at them! They fought. They helped save the world. While all I did was sit in a safe house and eat sandwiches."

"Pietro—"

"I am the fastest runner in America. I have trained in martial arts for years with Arthur. I have trained with Asgardian warriors. I have spent years preparing to be useful." His voice was steady but the frustration underneath it was not. "And the first time the planet was actually attacked, I was put in a basement like a child."

"It was a war," Eileen said, her voice gentle but immovable. "A war where any stray, unpredictable Chitauri energy bolt could have found you. You are fast, love, but you are not invulnerable. It was not safe."

"I am protected by magical artifacts."

"Which are a last resort," Eileen countered softly. "They are not a licence to walk onto a battlefield and tempt fate."

"But—"

"No."

Pietro’s jaw tightened. He changed tactics. "What about Wanda? She is stronger than most of the wizards and agents who fought. Why was she not allowed to go?"

"It was her own decision not to go," Eileen said simply.

Wanda nodded, looking at her lap. "It was too dangerous. Too many variables in a massive battlefield like that. My power and control is just not there yet."

Pietro looked at his sister for a long moment. Something in his expression shifted. He knew her better than anyone alive. He could hear what she was not saying.

"That is not the real reason," he said quietly. "You stayed because of me."

Wanda did not deny it. She just looked back at him.

"Sis, you did not have to do that. I would not have felt bad."

"I stayed to keep my younger brother company."

"By twelve minutes." Pietro muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Which makes you the younger twin. And my responsibility."

Pietro gritted his teeth. Just as everyone thought the topic had been successfully redirected, he looked down at his hands again.

"I just feel so useless," he confessed, the bravado completely gone.

"Do not be so down," Wanda encouraged, shifting closer and bumping her shoulder affectionately against his. "We will join the fight next time. Together."

"No. It will be the exact same story next time," Pietro said bitterly, shaking his head. "You have your magic. The wizards have theirs. The Avengers have their respective powers. But I will still be a normal human. There is always going to be a safe basement waiting for me."

Wanda did not have a good, honest answer to that.

Eileen turned her gaze to Arthur, silently asking for help.

Arthur, who had been sitting quietly in his armchair the entire time, finally spoke up.

"Pietro," Arthur said, his calm voice cutting through the lingering gloom. "If you truly want to be a superhero... I can make it happen."

Pietro looked up sharply. "Really? Is it something like the real Extremis to make me super strong? Or magic like Wanda’s?"

Arthur smiled a slow, knowing smile. "Something different. Something I am confident you will like more than either of those options."

Pietro’s eyes were suddenly shining brightly. All of his restless, vibrating energy returned in a massive rush. "I am ready. Let’s do it right now. Let’s make Pietro a superhero tonight."

"Not today."

"But—"

"I said I will make it happen. I did not say it would be instant. There is research to do first. Testing. I will not rush this." Arthur held his gaze. "But I will do it. You have my word."

Pietro held Arthur’s eyes for another moment. Then a grin broke across his face, wide and genuine and so bright it changed the temperature of the room.

"Fine," Pietro said, sitting back down. "I can wait." He paused. "As long as it is actually happening."

"It is happening."

The tension drained away. Elena, who had been watching the exchange with the rapt attention of a girl who sensed an opportunity, raised her hand.

"Can I get superpowers too?"

"Bed," Eileen and Arthur said simultaneously.

—

That night, Arthur cancelled every plan he had made for the foreseeable future.

The trip to Asgard had been first on the list for the morning. He had things to see Frigga about. He needed to discuss Death magic. He needed to explore his newly gained second tier of power. He had wanted to attend Loki’s trial and see his sentence handed down, and to explain to Frigga the bindings that had made her son mortal.

All of it could wait. He had more important things to take care of.

His son had asked for help.

Which only meant that his schedule for the next few days, maybe even weeks, was wiped clean.

He went down to the workshop, pulled the Sceptre off the wall, and laid it on the bench. The Mind Stone pulsed gently in its setting, the same patient yellow it had been pulsing with for billions of years.

It was time to work.