Author's Note (please read): 

Hi, guys! So, this is the final part. I am sorry that their are only three parts, but as I mentioned before, I actually wrote all three for English class, and my English teacher said he wanted me to do something different after I finished up with this part. However, I do hope that all of the parts have been long enough to keep you satisfied. The story is complete, though, so don't worry about that. I just wish I could have spread it out more. 

Also, in this part, their is some dialogue from the post-credit scene in 'Captain America: The Winter Solider', so I cannot take credit for those specific lines of dialogue. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!   

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Silence. Dead silence. The only thing filling it is the faint ringing sound in my ears, which can only ever be heard when it is too quiet for my brain to comprehend. My entire body feels as though every knife in Hydra's weapon arsenal has been thrust into me. And at this point, I'm pretty sure it has. I sit very still in my cell, afraid that if I move, the pain will come back, and it will never go away. 

My throat hoarse from screaming, I turn my head ever so slightly to look at the small, dirty sink in the corner of my cell. And then I hear it. The quiet sound of water droplets. It's almost as if my noticing it shattered the unbearable silence, but at the same time, it brought even more attention to how gravelly my throat is. Craving the cool liquid, I try to get up. However, the moment I move my arms, I realize that any attempts will be in vain. So, I can only lay here, listening to the water mock me. Every drop telling me that I am not strong enough. Every little splash reminding me that I am simply a weak, helpless girl and am likely to remain that way forever.

It has been a year since Pietro and I agreed to Strucker's project. One year since we agreed to be tortured in order to activate the X-gene. I often find myself questioning if this is all worth it. Relentless torture and, seemingly endless suffering, seems like a great deal to go through just to get revenge on one man. But, then I remember staring into the lifeless eyes of my parents. Eyes that would still be twinkling with life if it weren't for him. That is what drives me. That is what keeps me alive. The thought of getting my revenge on him. I want to be able to stare into his cold, dead eyes and know that he felt exactly what my parents felt.

"Tony Stark must die," I whisper, my voice cracking slightly due to the constant screaming and dryness of my throat.

"As much as I admire your hatred, I'm afraid that might be more difficult, now," someone says from behind me.

I quickly turn around, immediately regretting my actions as pain rivets throughout my entire body. Shrieking in agony, I collapse in front of the glass that separates me from everyone else. I can feel my whole body throbbing.

"Careful, Wanda," the man warns. "I would hate to see my strongest subject die simply because I spooked her."

Finding the strength, I lift my head to see Baron Von Strucker standing before me in his usual aloof demeanor.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"If I were you, I would watch the attitude. You've seen what happens when you get snippy with me, Maximoff," he says with hostility, sending me cold glare.

"Yes, sir," I reply, lowering my head in submission.

Strucker adjusts his monocle over his eye. He then glances down at me, but just as it looks like he is about to say something, he looks up.

"What did you mean when you said it would be more difficult to kill Tony Stark?" I ask, curiously.

He looks down at me abruptly, as if I had just interrupted his thinking. I expect him to send another scolding my way, but to my relief, it never comes. Instead, his face is graced with a light smirk.

"I am glad you asked, Ms. Maximoff," he replies. "You are aware that Tony Stark, in recent years, has become Iron Man, yes?"

"Yes, sir," I answer, quickly, wanting to know where he is going with this.

"Well, something occurred in New York a couple days ago. An Asgardian God known as Loki used something called 'The Tesseract' to open a portal, and he tried to use an army of aliens to take over the world," he explains, never once showing any emotion.

I can only stare at him, dumbfounded. That sounds less like reality and more like a crappy story written by a novice author who thought it would be a good idea to mix mythology with science-fiction.

Strucker chuckles at my expression.

"I realize it sounds absurd, but it is the truth," he says, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Alright, but what does that have to do with Stark?" I ask, still unsure if I should actually believe him.

"I was just getting to that, Wanda," Strucker replied. "In order to combat the situation, S.H.I.E.L.D. activated 'The Avengers Initiative'."

"The Avengers?" I questioned.

"The Avengers are a group of.....remarkable people, brought together by S.H.I.E.L.D., to fight the battles that normal people can't," he answers with a stutter, as if he found it difficult to call them remarkable.

I nod in affirmation and look down. I imagine that they are the kind of people Strucker is trying to turn Pietro and I into. People capable of.....remarkable things.

"Is Iron man part of The Avengers?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Yes," he replies. "The team consists of Iron Man, the recently thawed Captain America, Thor, who also happens to be Loki's brother, the Hulk, Black Widow, and Hawkeye."

I've never heard of the last two, but I am at least somewhat familiar with the rest. I obviously know who Iron Man is, and Strucker told me about Captain America. I vaguely remember something about Thor being able to lift a hammer out of the ground, and I remember hearing about the Hulk almost destroying Harlem in a fight with a creature just like himself.

Looking up in thought, I try to think of any reason why he would want me to know all of this. He's not usually the kind of person to just talk for the sake of it. If he tells you something, it's almost always important. Racking my brain for the answer, I am suddenly slapped in the face by the cold, hard reality that comes with this information.

"So, in order to defeat Iron Man, I would have to defeat all six of them," I state, my voice growing quiet.

"Quite likely, yes," Strucker responds.

I merely nod and put my head down. This is not what was supposed to happen. It is not supposed to be a battle. I want to take it slowly and enjoy it. I don't want to rush out of fear of being killed by someone else, before I can even get to Stark. I want to watch as his life slips away from him, and he is engulfed in the cold and unforgiving embrace of death. However, if these so called 'Avengers' feel the need to get in the way, they will all suffer the same fate. I will not be stopped.

"Then, The Avengers must die," I reply, coldly.

Strucker, then, kneels down so that he is at eye-level with me.

"I am so glad to hear you say that," he says, using a tone so wicked, it sounds as though it was never meant to be used by man.

Ignoring the shiver that runs down my spine, I say, "I need to speak to my brother."

Strucker stands up straight, again, putting his hands behind his back. Every time I see him, he is dressed the same. He wears a clean, black suit, without a wrinkle to be seen, shiny black loafers, and to top it all off, a small pin with the red Hydra symbol on it. I often wonder if they only chose the name 'Hydra' so that they could use the motto, "Cut off one head and two more shall take it's place." I have never asked, though. One thing I've learned here is that, if you're not careful with your questions, you will get beaten. The people that work here seem to have very little tolerance for those they feel are beneath them, and, as of right now, I am just a lab rat.

"Very well," Strucker replies.

He brings his hand up to his ear and says in a very harsh and demanding tone, "Bring me Pietro Maximoff."

I lean back on the cold concrete wall, contemplating what I should tell him. Pietro wants his revenge on Stark just as much as I do, but I have reason to believe that he will find the idea of eliminating the other Avengers to be....unnecessary. Unfortunately for him, I am stubborn. I always have been, and I always will be.

"Convince him," Strucker says, pulling me from my thoughts and back into reality.

The heavy metal door opens, emitting a loud creak. Two barrel-chested men walk in, carrying Pietro on their shoulders. Strucker walks over to the keypad and types something in. The glass of my cell begins to separate, and Pietro is flung into my cell just as soon as the gap is big enough. Without a second to lose, Strucker pushes another button on the keypad, and the glass closes before I can even blink.

As the door closes, Strucker turns around and looks right at me, saying, "Good luck, Ms. Maximoff."

"Are you alright, Pietro?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Just dandy," he mutters, sarcasm evident in his voice.

Pietro slowly sits up, trying not to cause himself more pain. I can finally get a good look at him. His arms and legs are bruised, and he has multiple large cuts on his face and forearms. On cut, in particular, looks especially bad. It looks as though the blade of a knife went right through his cheek, almost reaching the other side.

Even when I ignore all of the cuts and bruises, he still looks awful. His skin is dry and dirty. His hair is matted, and his usually bright, brown eyes appear dull.

"You look terrible," Pietro states, eyeing me up and down.

"So do you," I reply, smiling slightly.

"I don't understand why they had to actually throw me in here," Pietro says, "We volunteered for this."

I let out a light chuckle, saying, "I get the feeling that, after a while, most people want to quit."

"I can see why," Pietro mutters, looking down at the ground.

Silence fills my cell, once again. For one of the first times with Pietro, however, it is not a comfortable silence. It is an awkward silence, signaling to me that Pietro probably already knows why I want to talk to him.

"We can't, Wanda," Pietro says, quietly, looking up at me with sad eyes.

"We have to," I respond, kindly.

"The Avengers are innocent. They help people," Pietro states, firmly. "It's Stark we're after."

"And they will keep us from getting to him! If we want Stark, we are going to have to go through all of them," I say, trying to ignore the anger rising in my chest.

"No, Wanda. If we kill them, we are no better than Stark," Pietro replies in an almost parental tone.

At that, I explode, saying, "Don't you dare compare us to him! He killed our parents. He is responsible for the death of the two people in the whole world who actually cared for us."

"Yes, Wanda, HE is. The other Avengers are not. We have no right to kill them," Pietro responds, calmly.

I let out a frustrated sigh, running my hands through my coarse hair. I love Pietro, and I know that he is only trying to do what is right. Nevertheless, I need him to see this from my perspective. With The Avengers at his side, Stark will not fall.

"Look, Pietro, Strucker and I think-"

"Strucker is using you, Wanda. He wants you to kill The Avengers, and he is using your hatred of Iron Man to make you think that you want the same," Pietro states, anger starting to bubble in him, as well.

"Well, who's to say The Avengers are any different? People like them always end up hurting others," I shout, my anger exploding yet again. "Do you really think that no one got hurt when the Hulk totaled Harlem, or when Iron Man fought that guy with the electric whips? Can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me that nobody died when The Avengers fought those aliens? They hurt other people without even realizing it. People just like mom and dad."

Pietro remains silent for a long time after that. He just sits there, staring at his legs. Suddenly, without any warning, he wraps his arms around me. Recovering from the initial shock, I return the gesture, relieved that there is no more yelling. He feels warm, which is odd, considering that none of the cells have any source of heat.

We stay in the comfortable embrace for what feels like hours, until Pietro pulls away, saying, "Very well, Wanda. Stark deserves what's coming to him, and if the other Avengers get in the way, we will have to do away with them."

I smile at him, relieved that he finally sees this my way. No matter what happens, it is comforting to know that Pietro will always be at my side.

One year later:

I wake up in my cell, squinting my eyes at florescent lights. I imagine I passed out in the torture room, again. I would say this has happened at least a hundred times by now, and the fainting has, but there is something else this time. I feel somehow different. The pain is still there, but there is also an odd tingly feeling surging throughout my entire body. I have certainly never felt this before.

My attention is suddenly drawn, once again, to the sink in the corner of my room. For the past year, all it has done is mock me. Every drop is still a reminder that I am weak, for I have never been strong enough to go and get the drink that I always need to rid myself of a dry throat.

The dripping sound seems to get louder with every passing minute. I put my hands over my ears and squeeze as hard as I possibly can, but the noise somehow manages to seep through.

"Shut up!" I scream, my anger getting the best of me.

I jolt towards the sink, but before I can even reach it, a red flash of light flies from my hands to the sink, shattering it to pieces. I shriek, falling to the ground and backing as far from it as I possibly can. I can only sit and stare at it, too alarmed to even move.

"What did I just do?" I whisper to myself, looking down at my hands.

"You, Ms. Maximoff, just did something miraculous," a familiar voice says from behind me.

I immediately spin around to find myself facing Strucker, who looks happier than I, personally, have ever seen him before. He is not smirking, but rather, smiling. Now, it is not the kind of happy smile that you would see a person have on their wedding day. It looks more like the kind of smile that a kleptomaniac would have after they steal something, or a pyromaniac would have after they set something on fire. It's a twisted smile. Psychotic.

"Congratulations, Wanda. Both you and Pietro have transformed," Strucker says, sounding just about as happy as he looks.

"Into what?" I ask, still bewildered by what I did to the sink.

"Well, according to the tests we did while you two were unconscious, your brother has gained an increased metabolism and improved thermal homeostasis. Your abilities include neuroelectronic interfacing, telekinesis, and mental manipulation," Strucker explains, placing his hands behind his back.

I look up at him wide-eyed, now even more confused.

"He's fast and you're weird," he says, obviously seeing that I didn't know what he was talking about. "You're like....a witch."

Ignoring the comment, I ask, "Can I see my brother?"

"I figured you'd ask that," Strucker says, a smirk, once again, gracing his features.

As if on cue, the same two guards who always bring Pietro in enter the room, a struggling boy slung over the shoulder of one of the guards. The boy is tossed into my cell, the glass closing the second he enters, just as it always does. One thing, however, is not the same. Pietro. His large, doe brown eyes have turned into a vivid blue, and his once slightly curly, brown locks are now straight and silver.

"Pietro?" I ask, almost unsure as to whether it is him or not. 

"Yeah?" he responds, trying to recover from being thrown into my cell. 

"You look.....different," I say, cautiously.

"What do you mean?" he asks, his blue eyes staring at me with curiosity.

"Well, your eyes are blue, and your hair is silver," I state.

Pietro grabs a piece of his hair and tugs on it so that he can get a glimpse of it. After that, he shakes his head and checks one more time. I would tell him that he can't shake the color out of his hair, but I think he's already figured that out.

"Do I look different?" I ask, subconsciously running my hands through my hair.

"No," Pietro replies. "You look the same as you always have."

"Yes, it appears as though the X-gene has altered Pietro's appearance, but has left your's unchanged," Strucker says, making both Pietro and I aware of the fact that he never left the room.

"What now?" Pietro asks. "We've got our powers, so what is the next step?"

"An excellent question, Mr. Maximoff," Strucker responds. "I commend the two of you for your strength. Before you, only two people had ever made it this far. The rest have died. However, you are nowhere near finished. Now, you train. You must master your powers and learn how to control them. Hydra will determine when you are ready to take on The Avengers. But, I can promise you this: Before long, everyone will know of Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch."

One Year Later:

I sit very still in my cell, moving only my hands. I watch as the red psionic waves surround the wooden blocks, which are now in my control. They go where I want them to go, and they do what I want them to do. I am in control, and it feels good.

Recently, things around the Hydra base have been extremely hectic. Apparently, some guy who works for Hydra known as 'The Winter Soldier' went rouge and disappeared. On top of that, according to Strucker, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was killed, and S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer exists because a bunch of their agents really worked for Hydra, or something like that. Honestly, I don't care about Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D.. They could both disappear out of thin air, and I wouldn't bat an eye. I only care about The Avengers and, most importantly, Tony Stark.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Strucker walking with another man. The other man looks familiar, but I don't really know who he is. They are walking towards me, but I don't look at them. My focus is on the blocks. I do, however, listen to their conversation.

"Sir, if they find our research at Hydra-"

"Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D., two sides of a coin that is no longer currency," Strucker tells the man.

"What about the volunteers?" The man asks.

"The dead will be buried so deep, their ghosts won't be able to find them," Strucker replies.

"And the survivors?" The man questions.

"The Twins," Strucker says with a smile, looking toward my cell. "As you know, later, The Avengers will meet the Twins."

The two men walk right up to my cell, and Strucker looks directly at me.

"It is not a world of spies, anymore, not even a world of heroes. This is the age of miracles. And nothing is more horrifying than a miracle."

Just as Strucker finishes the sentence, I force the bricks to collide with each other, breaking them into hundreds of little pieces. I look Strucker directly in the eyes, and we just stare at each other. With his evil eyes boring into mine, I feel something familiar. Looking right back at him, I realize what it is. I am staring at the devil. The same devil I made an agreement with almost three years ago. Pietro and I, we are merely pieces in his game. We are his puppets, tangled in strings.

Two Years Later:

Never, in my wildest dreams, would I ever have predicted this. About two years ago, I wanted The Avengers dead, but now, here I am, about to recite the oath to become one of The Avengers. I didn't think anything would ever happen to make me like The Avengers, let alone join them. But, something did happen. Ultron happened. Ultron, who was created by Tony Stark, wanted to destroy the world and all of the innocent people in it. Pietro and I, upon realizing his true intentions, knew we couldn't stop him alone, so we joined The Avengers and fought alongside them. 

Sadly, I was the only Maximoff to make it out of the fight alive. Pietro was killed by Ultron. Although I miss him terribly, I am happy for him. He is with mom and dad, now. I have thought about trying to join him, but Pietro would never forgive me if I did. So, instead, I will stay here, and fight the battles that other people can't. That is my way of repaying Pietro for everything he did for me. I couldn't protect him, but I will avenge him.

I have not forgiven Tony, and I probably never will. Not only did his bomb kill my parents, but his robot killed my brother. I do, however, know, now, that both of those were accidents, so we have a steady alliance.

"It's time, Wanda," Steve says, holding a bible out in front of him.

I step up to Steve, or Captain America, with the rest of The Avengers behind him.

"Please place your left hand on the bible and your right hand over your heart," Steve explains.

I do so and begin to recite the oath. The oath is quite long, but I really do like it. It says a lot about what it means to be an Avenger. There is one part, however, the very last part of the oath, to be exact, that I will never forget. It is perhaps the most important thing I will ever say.

"While I live and until I die, I am an Avenger."