Novi Grad, Sokovia

Spring 2015

It had been decades since the old church in the heart of Novi Grad had been in use. And it showed. The façade was slowly beginning to crumble and the domed roof had long since begun to decay, the rafters and arches that supported it visible in places through the disintegrating tiles. Miraculously, many of the stained glass windows were still intact, but they were long faded, more disappearing as each year passed. The flagstones of the surrounding courtyard were cracked and lifting, shrubs and grasses straggling forth around them. Even the fence that had been erected to keep curious citizens out was beginning to sag and rust away, the scattering of flowers and notes pinned to it out of habit and tradition looking cold and withered beneath a dusting of late season snow.

It had been condemned and declared unsafe for as long as the Twins could remember.

But not only did no one seem to have the heart to actually tear it down, there simply wasn't the money to do so. So the church lingered, a decrepit, melancholic relic of days long past when Sokovia hadn't been the downtrodden, faded place it had become.

And allegedly, Tony Stark waited for them inside.

As they approached the old building, Nina was beginning to rouse in Pietro's arms, squirming with an adorably exasperated expression as she realized what was going on.

"You don't have to carry me. I'm perfectly capable of walking," she muttered petulantly when her wiggling wasn't enough to get him to put her down. Pietro chuckled. Wanda, meanwhile, shot the other girl a look that was both concerned and aggravated.

"You could hardly keep your eyes open, and you were shaking so bad you couldn't have walked far if you tried," his twin said dismissively, though there was little actual annoyance in it. The concern was much more evident. Nina huffed, weakly shoving at Pietro's chest.

"Well, I'm awake now," she insisted stubbornly. His chuckles continuing despite his serious mood and his focus on what waited for them just beyond the fence they were approaching, Pietro obliged. Gently letting her own, he still kept a steadying hand on her back, not at all surprised when she wobbled upon getting her feet beneath her. Wanda shot him an exasperated look, her eyes betraying a mix of worry for the blonde and impatience to get inside and confront whoever was waiting for them there. Worry gnawed at him too; for all her spirit, Nina was still so weak.

Which was why he couldn't help the surge of relief when, despite not shrugging off the casual arm he curled around her back, a flicker of annoyance did appear on her face at the gesture. It nearly set off his laughter again.

But quickly enough gratitude and exhaustion replaced annoyed exasperation and she was leaning into his supporting grip.

Something the vain, even chivalrous side of him basked in.

Though that too faded to be replaced with worry as she nearly fell when the three of them slipped through the gap in the fencing surrounding the church, Wanda only barely managing to keep Nina on her feet as the blonde made it through. This was a girl who had managed to take on three grown men—mercenaries, and highly trained ones too—and hold her own. That she was so weak she could barely slip through the fencing without help?

Worried really was an understatement.

As he followed Wanda and Nina through the fencing, he saw his twin growing serious as she looked up to the crumbling church. Abruptly Pietro's own features took on a grim cast, his jaw clenching as purpose and resolve surged up in his chest. Though, there was a healthy measure of anticipation there too.

'The Iron Man,' the boy had said.

Iron Man.

Stark.

They were about to come face to face with the man ultimately responsible for tearing their world apart, destroying their lives. Pietro felt his simmering anger for the man rise to vibrate in his chest. This was their chance. This was their chance to make Stark pay.

There was plenty to look forward to.

It was evening, the sun already long set, but it wasn't all that dark out, the city around them, dim as it was compared to the great metropolises of Europe and the United States, was more than enough to light the way.

The interior of the church was no different. Dim and shadowed, the candles ranged through the cavernous-feeling nave did little compared to the streaks of ambient light from the city around it that seeped in through the windows and the crumbling ceiling. Dust hung and danced through the dull beams, clinging to the stone and making the air thick and stale. The floor, once smooth and painstakingly laid, was uneven and coated with dead leaves and other decaying refuse, all covered with a thin layer of grey snow. It was a dismal-looking place, that was for sure, and it felt just as neglected as it looked. Pietro's skin nearly crawled at the atmosphere lingering within walls of the ancient structure.

And on the centre of the dais at the centre of the church, was a large, throne-like chair, just as dusty and cobwebbed as the rest of the structure, the intricate carvings on the finials and across the body appearing just worn and miserable by time and neglect.

But it wasn't the church they were there to see.

It was the person sitting in the chair that immediately drew and held their attention. He sat with his back to them, obviously waiting patiently for them to appear, positioned in such a way to make some sort of theatrical introduction, most likely. He was precisely who they had come to meet.

It was odd, though. One thing that was widely known about Stark was that he was an arrogant bastard. He flaunted his fancy Iron Man suit.

So why had he draped himself with an old, dusty red swath of fabric—one of the old brocaded vestments from the church's golden days, perhaps?—hiding his beloved suit?

And why would he even bother to seek them out like this in the first place? Pietro frowned as the thought struck him. What possible reason could Stark have to track them down? As Nina shivered beneath his arm, his sister's words about the Avengers possibly looking for the slight blonde came back to him: could Stark be here for Nina?

But no, Stark couldn't possibly be here for Nina. She'd given no indication that she knew any of the Avengers. Wanda had made sure of that, having questioned Nina to find out what she knew about why she'd been taken by Strucker; as far as she knew, she was a nobody who lived alone with her mom, who was a ballet mistress in Vienna. There was no way Stark would give a fig for Nina.

Something was off. Glancing to Wanda, he knew she felt it too just from the way she held herself as she edged closer to the man on the dais.

"Talk," Wanda finally demanded, not interested in waiting patiently for him to realize they were there or to start speaking first. "And if you are wasting our time..."

"Did you know this church is in the exact centre of the city?" The Twins both started at the interruption, bewildered by not only the bizarre non-sequitur but by the fact that it was spoken by a voice that did not sound at all like the Stark they'd seen on TV. "The Elders decreed it so that everyone could be equally close to God. I like that. The geometry of belief." Pietro glanced to Wanda for direction, trusting that she'd be able to gain some insight that he couldn't thanks to her abilities. He didn't expect the frustrated frown of concentration he saw on her face. Unease tried to take root in his belly, but he ignored it. The figure on the chair made an absent gesture as he spoke, his metal hand gleaming softly in the light from the city before he seemed to hunch in on himself. "You're wondering why you can't look inside my head."

"Sometimes it's hard," Wanda countered, her voice cool and unshaken as her blue-green eyes glowed briefly scarlet, "but sooner or later, every man shows himself."

"Oh, I'm sure they do." Without warning, he stood, the thick draping sliding dramatically to the ground with a puff of dust. Wanda's eyes went wide with astonishment as she took a step back while Nina gasped in surprise as she inadvertently pressed closer against Pietro's side, her own blue-grey eyes widened in fear. Pietro could barely believe his own eyes, his mouth parting with shock.

It wasn't Stark...it was a machine...a robot...a big, gleaming robot with intelligent, gleaming red eyes.

The robot studied the three of them with its keen, oddly emotion-filled gaze. "But you needed something more than a man. That's why you let Stark take the Sceptre." Pietro glanced to Wanda, surprised at the lack of surprise on her face as she nodded slowly.

"I didn't expect," she started before faltering, nodding pointedly in the robot's direction instead of saying 'you'. Though not quite able to bury her unease before restarting, her voice was still more assured than it had been as she continued. "But I saw Stark's fear, I knew it would control him, make him self-destruct." Pietro gaze didn't leave his sister as she spoke, a faint welling of guilt brushing away his earlier annoyance that Wanda had held him back from Stark at the base.

Really, he should know by now to trust her, he silently reprimanded himself. He should have figured she had a good reason for letting Stark go when they had both been dreaming of confronting him for so many years.

The robot nodded solemnly in understanding, stepping down from the dais to pace absently around it.

"Everyone creates the thing they dread. Men of peace create engines of war, invaders create avengers, people create...smaller people? Uh...children! I lost the word there," he exclaimed with a laugh. Nina frowned in confusion, shifting uncomfortably against his side while Pietro and Wanda exchanged equally bewildered glances. This was so odd... "Children. Designed to supplant them, to help them...end." It was said in such a...final way. Pietro tenses as anticipation bubbled up in his chest again.

Next to him, his twin's face grew hopeful, her sharp eyes lighting up despite the shadow of wariness that lingered over her features.

"Is that why you've come? To end the Avengers?" she asked, sounding almost doubtful in her attempt to control her own growing excitement.

But Pietro knew better. He knew her too well to misread her reaction.

Oddly enough, the robot seemed to understand too.

"I've come to save the world. But also, yeah."

With a gesture the robot motioned for the three of them to follow him, his long metal legs striding confidently away from them as he exited the church. With a final, enquiring glance, Pietro inhaled deeply as Wanda nodded, her expression eager and thoughtful. She wanted to follow.

And Pietro would be lying if he said he didn't want to as well. Nina, meanwhile, was glancing nervously between the two of them with bright, wary eyes, her face growing paler with each passing moment.

Without a word, the three of them crossed the nave of the decaying church, following the robot out. It was certainly not what Pietro had been expecting when they'd approached the crumbling building in the first place, he mused as he helped Nina navigate the shallow stairs at the back of the church. Not in the slightest.

But he had been right about one thing...they'd been given a chance to make Stark pay.

And he and Wanda were taking it.   

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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