"That's a pretty big bridge."
Wanda nodded in agreement with her brother. The two continued to look over the Golden Gate Bridge from the Golden Gate View Point. The Maximoff siblings stood by each other as they looked at the red engineering marvel. "It's beautiful."
"So, where to next?" Wanda looked over at her brother and smiled, but she was confused as to why he gave her a frown. "What's the matter?"
"Wanda." Pietro said quietly. "Enough. Just talk to me."
"..." Wanda's smile disappeared, and she looked back to the bridge. She stayed silent until she took a deep breath and sighed. "I spoke to Stark."
Pietro's eyes widened, but to Wanda's surprise, he sighed and looked down at the water. "...I see. About what?"
"I told him that I wanted to talk." Wanda said as she grabbed her brother's hand. "It's time we moved on from our hate. It's time we leave that behind and move on with our lives."
"I want you to come with me to talk to him next week."
Wanda waited for his response, turned his head to him, and watched his face. She was expecting him to refuse. To get angry or simply run off and ignore what she said.
"...okay." Pietro nodded and looked at her with a small smile. "I've been thinking about all that myself, too. Amy has been helping me go through my anger towards Stark."
"You're right, for us to move forward. We have to let that go." Pietro held her hand tighter. A second later, his phone beeped. Pulling out his phone, Wanda peered down at his screen and smiled at the wallpaper of Amy and her brother smiling and holding a colossal burger between them.
"Ah, I see." Wanda smiled mischievously. Pietro noticed her smile and quickly put his phone away.
"Don't say a thing, sister."
"Fufu, of course, brother."
•••
"Here, how's that feel?"
Amy spoke in Hindi as she smiled at the older woman sitting before her. The woman looked amazed, and her smile brightened as she stood up and looked down at herself in awe.
"Unbelievable! The pain in my stomach is gone! Thank you so much!" The woman brought her hands together and bowed slightly.
"Think nothing of it. I'm just glad you're doing better." The woman nodded and left the small hut. Amy smiled and motioned to her next patient, a young boy who entered the tent and smiled at her.
"Chamuel!"
Amy smiled at the mention of her original name. She was currently in Kolkata, helping the sick and injured in the small town she was in. Today wasn't her first time here. This region was impoverished, and the people had a tough time getting medicine and doctors.
"Aakesh!" Holding her hands out wide, Amy smiled and hugged the young boy. Letting him go, she looked down at his dirty old clothes, which made her frown. Aakesh was a nice, lively boy, and she always enjoyed spending time with him. After all, she was there when he was born.
"Look how big you've gotten!" Amy smiled, pushed her sensory abilities out, and inspected the boy. It seemed like he had a mild case of pneumonia. Placing a hand on his chest, she started the healing process. "How's your mother?"
"She's doing okay! We're staying with my uncle, Mahit." Aakesh's breathing started to improve. His chest was now contracting and expanding without issues.
"That's great!" Amy lifted her hand from Aakesh's chest. "There! Good as new!"
Aakesh smiled as he took a deep breath, his lungs working as they should, with nothing to obstruct them. "Thanks, Chamuel! I always feel better whenever I see you. You have the magic touch of Lord Dhanvantari!"
Laughing at the comparison to the old god, Amy stood up and walked with the young boy outside. He was her last patient of the night, so she grabbed something to eat. She looked down at the now energetic boy as he told her his tales of adventure and childish stories with his friends. Looking up, he saw Aakesh's mother wave at her.
"Lakshmi!" Amy waved back and embraced the woman when she got close enough. The older woman smiled and held her shoulders when they let go.
"Chamuel! It is so nice to see you once more!" Lakshmi then looked down at her son and smiled gratefully at his improved breathing. "Aakesh, your breathing! It's improved!"
Smiling down at the two family members embracing, Amy saw Lakshmi wipe a small tear away. It must've been hard for her to watch her son's health deteriorate without being able to help. Amy felt a hint of frustration at the fact that this nation didn't prioritize helping those in need but focused on lining top officials' pockets.
"Thank you so much, Chamuel! I don't know how you do it, but we can always count on your help whenever you visit." Amy nodded and talked more with the woman until she and her son waved goodbye and headed home.
Amy stood in silence and looked around at the poor and chaotic state of the town. Shaking her head, she walked to a small food stand and bought two grilled tandoori chicken skewers. After paying the man twice what the skewers cost, Amy walked away and sat down in a relatively clean sitting area.
"Hi, is it okay if I sit?"
Amy stopped mid-bite and looked at a man in an old brown suit and purple dress shirt. He had wavy black hair, a bag over his shoulder, and a small bowl of aloo tikki. He was American.
"Of course, I could use the company." Amy waved at the empty seat across from her and nodded. "So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"
The man looked surprised, glanced down at his food, and poked it. "I'm a… doctor, and I heard several people here were sick and needed help, so I came to help."
Amy smiled and nodded; he was telling the truth. This was surprising to her. Usually, American doctors wouldn't risk themselves to help those in poorer countries for altruistic reasons. So, seeing one was refreshing. Sure, he must have his reasons, but ultimately, he was helping people.
"You got a name, Mr. Doctor?" Amy asked as she took another bite and looked up at him. He seemed to hesitate for a second but then spoke.
"It's Bruce."
Amy nodded and looked at the man. "Well, Bruce, I'm Amy. Thanks for coming to help these people. They need all the help they can get."
Bruce nodded and smiled. "From the stories I've heard, it seemed like these people were in good hands. They told me about a blonde woman capable of healing any wound. They say you have a gift with healing. Are you a doctor, too?"
"I wouldn't call myself a doctor, but I know a thing or two. Would you like to swap notes?"
•••
"How am I supposed to find him?"
Eric hobbled over to his computer and looked down at a blurry picture of Vengeance on a social media website. The photo was taken by someone who was being mugged but was saved by the vigilante. This person managed to take a picture before running off.
Gulping, he stared at the man in the hood with the same level of fear he would have towards Zemo. No, he feared the purple-masked man more because he was more willing to do what it took to accomplish his goals- even if it meant killing those innocents that got in his way. Vengeance, on the other hand, only went after those who attacked people or were criminals who had committed great crimes.
"Even if I do, how do I get him to return the vial?" Eric asked no one from inside his penthouse room. Looking over to the full-body mirror in the corner of the room, he saw his face.
Bandages and still-healing bruises lined almost every corner of his head. Zemo ensured he learned his lesson and instilled a sense of urgency to retrieve the vail that could push one's human limits to those of a god. Because if he didn't, his family would suffer the consequences.
"I'm so screwed." Eric whispered as he gritted his teeth and rested his forehead on his desk. He lay there trying to search his brain for ideas on finding the vigilante.
Heck, even all of the LAPD couldn't find the hooded man. How was he, a man with little other than his father's money, supposed to find the vigilante? Looking back up at the picture, he scrolled down to the comments and found several replies.
Several comments called the man a criminal who should have been locked up a long time ago, while the vast majority of the comments regarded the man as a hero who did what the police never could: Put a real stop to criminals and protected the streets and instilled fear of committing more crimes into anyone. Less the vigilante come for them as well.
"A hero." After reading a comment that was heavily liked, Eric felt an idea pop into his mind. If Vengeance was someone who stopped criminals and protected the innocent, then shouldn't he come running if something grand were happening that endangered the lives of several innocents?
"A hero will always come running… to save the day." Eric then started typing on his computer and searched for heavily populated areas. Smiling, Eric found the perfect spot: the Melrose Ave Shopping District.
Standing up, Eric walked over to the corner of his expensively furnished office and crouched beside a black safe. Entering the code, Eric opened the door and looked inside. A red and purple vail sat on the topmost shelf; the words' failure' rested on the vial. Gingerly grabbing the vail, Eric swallowed a lump of spit and looked down at the volatile substance. A substance he helped create.
This was the previous experimental vail of the ionic particles. When it was tested, it gave the poor subject all the powers and abilities that were intended. But after two hours, the man- the test subject had an extreme reaction. The ionic particles seemed unstable and continued to generate excessive amounts of energy, so much so that his body was overwhelmed.
The subject ended up exploding with the force of a miniature atomic bomb. He and his team of scientists were all lucky enough to have the forethought of placing the man inside a bomb-proof room capable of handling that much energy. However, it rendered the room unusable due to the extreme amount of damage the explosion caused.
Calming his shaking hand, Eric calmed his breathing and placed the vail back into the safe. No, he banished the thought of using the vail himself to force Vengeance to give back the vail. It was too dangerous, too extreme. If things went south, he would be the reason thousands of lives would be lost.
"But… if it's me or my family, then I have no choice." Eric whispered and refused to allow his family to die due to his mistakes in agreeing to work for a crazed madman. He didn't spend years upon years becoming the scientist he is today to be reduced to a simple henchman.
"So what am I going to do?" Eric asked, leaning against the cool wall and looking at the ceiling.
Using the failed batch of ionic particles would be a last resort; he had to think of other ways to attract Vengeance's attention. Eric just had to be creative and consider all the possible scenarios.
"One week… you couldn't have given me more time?"