"So… can I open my eyes?" Pietro asked, his voice shaky despite trying to sound casual.
"Yeah," Luke replied.
Pietro cracked one eye open and immediately gagged.
Blood was everywhere. Not just splattered, but painted across the street. Organs lay strewn among the rubble like something had violently emptied human bodies and forgotten to clean up afterwards.
Chunks of flesh clung to broken walls, pooled in cracks in the pavement, and dripped slowly from twisted metal.
His face turned green instantly.
He'd seen dead people before. Sokovia didn't exactly offer a peaceful upbringing. But this—this wasn't gunfire or collapsed buildings or bodies under debris.
This was people turned inside out.
His stomach lurched violently. He felt like puking.
"Hold it," Luke said, "Don't puke while standing next to me. If you start, I'll start, and then it becomes a chain reaction."
Pietro slapped a hand over his mouth and forced himself still, swallowing hard as he stared at the absolute massacre.
"Ummm, sir, if you hand over my sister, I will disappear from your eyes and be grateful for your eternal help," said Pietro, voice tight.
This wasn't bravado. This was survival instinct screaming at him to de-escalate.
He was genuinely terrified — anyone would be after seeing an entire squad of armed men explode in less than a second.
And right now, his unconscious sister was in this man's arms. That alone made his nerves spike even more.
Luke adjusted his hold on Wanda, making sure her head rested securely against his shoulder. "No," he said simply. "You and your sister are coming with me."
He had already decided—now that he'd encountered them, he wasn't leaving these two behind. They were coming with him to New York, whether they liked it or not.
That surge of chaos magic wasn't something you could hide. Anyone sensitive to it—anyone hunting for power—would have felt it.
And there were plenty of enemies on Earth who would kill to claim something like that for themselves.
Leaving Wanda and Pietro here, in the open, was practically inviting those predators to come knocking.
Pietro stiffened. "What? I—I'm not com—"
The protest cut off mid-sentence.
Pietro's eyes widened as the ground started shrinking beneath him.
"What—what—WHAT IS HAPPENING!?" he shouted, legs kicking uselessly as his body rose into the air like someone had turned off gravity just for him.
Panic took over instantly. He twisted midair, arms flailing, eyes darting everywhere except at Luke—like not looking directly at the cause might somehow fix the situation.
Luke floated calmly beside him with Wanda in his arms.
"I DIDN'T AGREE TO THAT!" Pietro yelled, voice cracking. "I didn't say yes—I didn't even finish my sentence!"
"You will," Luke replied, tone flat. "Unless you want trouble finding you again tomorrow. Trust me. If I leave you here, your fate tomorrow will be far worse." "
Pietro swallowed hard. Right. That shut his mouth quicker than any threat.
Still, he flailed. "C-can you at least put me down before we talk about this!? I hate heights! I HATE HEIGHTS!"
Luke glanced lazily at him. "Relax. If I planned to drop you, you'd already be a red stain on the pavement."
"That does not help!"
Luke shrugged. "Then stop panicking. You'll get used to flying eventually."
"I will never get used to this!" Pietro screamed as he drifted higher, panicking and grabbing onto Luke's leg like it was the only solid thing in the universe.
They were already far above Sokovia, flying straight toward New York, the ruined city shrinking into a patchwork of lights and shadows beneath them.
"Ummm, mister," Pietro said, voice shaking as he clung tighter, "may I ask why you are taking us with you? If you are doing this for money—we're poor. You can't get anything from us!"
Luke sighed. "Money is the last thing I need."
Pietro blinked. "…Then why?"
"Your sister awakened a dangerous power," Luke replied, adjusting Wanda slightly in his arms. She was still unconscious, her breathing steady.
"So you want that power?"
His tone said everything — fear, suspicion, and the instinct of a brother who had learned long ago that nobody helped for free.
Luke shook his head. "No. I want to help her control it before she becomes a danger to herself and everyone around her."
Pietro stared at him, wind whipping his hair, completely unsure whether to trust him — but also fully aware he didn't have many options while floating thousands of feet in the air.
"So… mister, how are you able to do all this?" Pietro asked, still hanging onto Luke's leg like a terrified cat. Curiosity leaked through the fear — he genuinely wanted to know how any of this was possible.
Luke shot him a side-eye. "Magic. And a bunch of other bullshit you wouldn't understand."
Pietro made a face. "Magic?"
"Yes. Magic." Luke nodded. "But stop calling me mister call me Luke. Makes me sound like someone's uncle."
"Oh—sorry. Luke, then."
"Better."
"Still… this is crazy. People don't just fly."
Luke gave a small shrug mid-air. "People also don't freeze reality by accident, but your sister managed it."
Pietro swallowed. "Fair point."
"And stop holding my pants, you idiot," Luke said, looking down with an annoyed glare as Pietro clung tighter with every wind gust. "They're literally slipping."
Before Pietro could apologize, Luke kicked him off.
"HEY—!" Pietro yelped as he drifted a few meters to the side, now floating on Luke's telekinetic hold instead of clinging awkwardly to him.
"…You could have just said it nicely," Pietro muttered under his breath, still drifting awkwardly beside him.
"Said it nicely?" Luke snorted. "You should be ashamed to be hanging off a man's pants like that."
"I—I wasn't trying to! I thought I was going to fall!"
"You weren't," Luke said. "Next time just float where I put you."
*****
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