It seems that sneaking out of the country is easier than we thought. Like, a lot easier. Wanda and Pietro have their papers and all that, so all they have to do is buy plane tickets. Something made easy with all the money they've got on behalf of Stark. Wanda purchases an extra seat, and convinces everyone that I'm not sitting there and that it's still empty. Of course, it's a lot of work to convince a plane full of people that they don't see something for 12 hours straight, but she seems to manage.
According to them, no one should notice we're missing for about another 6 hours. By the time they're missed at breakfast, we'll already have crossed through Romania and into Sokovia. However, when Peter gets back from school- which would have been about an hour into our flight- he'd realize I was missing. He'd probably talk May out of her 'decision' to let me go.
Knowing this means that it's no shock when we get off the plane and turn our phones back on to find upwards of 200 calls from Peter between us. I grimace and start listening to the messages, Peter going from curious to concerned to panicked to- "Why are you...why are you on a plane?"- resignation.
"...For some reason, May thinks it's alright. But Wanda was there, so I don't know. Tell them that I'm meeting you guys in Sokovia on Sunday, and don't do anything stupid, alright? Please? When Mr Stark finds out we're all dead," I frown as I listen to Peter's message, and Wanda looks at me expectedly.
"Peter's coming," I say simply, sliding my phone back into my pocket. "But Tony doesn't know that I went with you guys yet,"
Wanda and Pietro glance at each other, Wanda's eyes flashing red. Pietro grins suddenly and turns back to me, exclaiming in English- "Then we have two days before the buzzkill comes to kill the fun!" -And starts to practically shove Wanda and I towards the airport doors.
__
Between having the fastest man on the planet and a teleporter both set on making their way to the hotel as quickly as possible, we made fairly good time. I haven't attempted taking people again yet, but I made quick work of our bags, Pietro arriving behind the hotel with Wanda in tow a split second after I did. Apparently they'll stay in Romania the first night, and we cross the border in the morning. Which means that they cross the border in the morning, and I just port to somewhere in Sokovia.
Sokovia.
I'm going to Sokovia.
Supposedly my home country.
And I'll be surrounded by people that speak my language.
"You know, two days isn't much time to show her around," Wanda tilts her head, considering. "Should we go cross the border today?"
She looks at Pietro and I.
I shrug, looking to Pietro. He tilts his head back and groans, but agrees. We have been awake for nearly 20 hours, but some coffee will help.
Quickly settled, Wanda goes to the desk and tells the clerk that we need to cancel our reservation, leaving Pietro and I by the entrance.
"You don't have to come with us for this, you know," He says in Sokovian, earning odd looks from the Romanians in the room. "We go to the...facility first," He spits out the word in disgust.
"Where you and Wanda were..."
"Yeah. Wanda takes it hardest, my little sister. It's like she feels all the people that suffered there-"
"-And lives through it again each time," I finish breathlessly, watching her with new admiration. She still goes there, and she remembers all the people that Hydra hurt. I've read the files. It was a lot. A lot of pain, a lot of suffering, a lot of things that never should have happened.
"It is hard to watch," He mumbles. I can imagine.
"I'd like to come," I say suddenly, turning to look at him. "I'd like to see this place. Or what's left of it. I'd like to be there for both of you," I tell him seriously. They are my friends.
"Alright!" Wanda says cheerfully, coming back over. I immediately erase the conversation with Pietro, straightening up.
"Onto Sokovia?" I ask.
"Onto Sokovia!" She declares, laughing and pointing out the doors. The border is only a few blocks from the hotel, but that doesn't stop Pietro from glancing at Wanda, nodding to an alley, and declaring-
"Race you there,"
Leaving me to quickly gather all of our things and port to the station. A station I haven't actually been to before. But I know what it looks like and where it is, thanks to the twins making me examine a stupid amount of photos in the event that some leftover Hydra goons found us on our way. Hydra may be over, but the people behind it are looking to pick up the pieces.
I land in front of the building, popping into a crowd that thankfully doesn't notice me, and immediately shove my way through to the main entrance.
"I win," I say to Pietro, crossing my arms over my chest.
"You can't prove that," He mutters, matching my posture.
"You can't prove that I didn't, either,"
"Enough, you two," Wanda shakes her head, and her fire tugs both of us a little bit apart.
"Pietro, come with me," She grabs his sleeve and tugs him towards the building. "We should get through in just a few minutes because we're citizens, and then it's onto the castle!"
I watch them walk into customs and scope out the other side of the gate, memorizing what it looks like. That way, when I step back into a secluded street, I can port there without hurting myself. I land on the other side of the metal gates, and I take a deep breath.
I'm in Sokovia.
I pivot on my foot, taking it all in, but I don't move from where I ported to.
Sokovia.
I want to say that it's beautiful, that I remember everything about it, that suddenly my life comes rushing back, but none of that is true. It's hideous. There's rubble and discarded bags all over, shops that are closed with signs in both Sokovian and English saying it was abandoned by the owners. It's been almost two years since Ultron threw the center of the city out of the sky, but it looks like it's never recovered.
Still...I feel like I do know this place.
When Wanda and Pietro come back out a few minutes later, grumbling to themselves, I'm still taking in the entrance to the city.
"What's wrong?" I ask, wrinkling my eyebrows. Pietro spits out a string of Sokovian curses and Wanda smacks him.
"They're calling us traitors," Wanda replies, almost boredly.
"And freaks," Pietro mutters.
"It's no matter, we got in, and we have every right to be here," Wanda says soothingly. I nod slowly.
"Did it use to be prettier?" I ask bluntly, not bothering to find a better way to word it. Pietro smiles ruefully.
"It used to be brilliant," He murmurs, looking around.
"A city of lights and colors, festivals every week," Wanda smiles to herself, her nose crinkling.
"Flowers strung on every corner. They always made my eyes itch," He stares into space, but doesn't seem bitter. I feel bitter. I feel bitter that I didn't get to know this. Or worse, that I did once.
"Let's drop our things off so that we have time for the castle," Pietro says suddenly, collecting two of the three bags. Wanda takes the last bag, and I anxiously tuck my hands into my pockets in an attempt to keep them to myself.
The next hour passes in a blur of dirty looks and thinly-veiled insults, and we're finally in front of what remains of the castle. It's huge. Once, it must have been pretty. But then it became a fortress, and then it fell apart.
And with a growing feeling of horror, I begin to feel certain that I recognize it.
Wanda walked inside first, hesitantly, but she wanted to be first. It only took a few minutes before she was practically in a trance, eyes shining with tears. Pietro placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, whispering to her, and told me that I could explore. I forgot my valiant intentions of staying by her side in a split second because I know this place.
So I started walking.
And I knew where I was going.
For the first time in my life, I remembered something. And it's the inside of a human experimentation facility.
I walk, and I know where to turn. I don't know where I'm going, but I know how to go there. I round another corner and find myself in a room missing two walls and a ceiling. My knees buckle.
This was my room, something whispers. This was my room. This was my room, this was my room, my room, my room, my room.
A blur of memories hits me. My memories. And they're all full of pain.
Injections. Needles. Needles I was too young to understand. They poked. I called them pokers.
Needles in my arms. They didn't want to go into my skin. So they forced them in. Over and over and over. They left scars. The rows of small scars left on my forearms.
Running. Porting away. I tried to escape. Over and over and over. I'd expel the drugs they gave me too quickly to keep me in submission, so they turned to-
Pain.
And who better to deliver it than another little girl, perpetually full of drugs, eager to use the new power coursing through her veins.
It burned.
Burned like fire.
Red fire.
That burst from her fingertips, wrapping itself around my brain and every inch of my skin and squeezing until the world melted away. Until I'd plead, begging for my life, hoping that someone would take mercy on me and make it stop.
I'm thrust back into reality and instantly on my feet again, running down the halls. I remember these corridors. I remember the soldiers that walked in them and the scientists that owned them and the children that were herded through them- and I remember the way to the girl's room.
Attached to another. Glass walls for easy observation. Scuff marks on the walls.
The girl stands there now. A few years older. But the same.
Except now, she feels. She cries.
Not for the pain that the others felt, but for the pain that she inflicted.
My eyes are wide, I'm breathing hard, but I'm not panicking. Everything falls into place. It all makes sense. Wanda slowly turns around to face me, and she tilts her head cautiously.
"Sonder?-" She starts to say, but she doesn't get the word out before I begin to move. I throw my arms out from my chest, and a shimmery purple force field unwraps from me. I arch my back in the effort, gasping for air, and I throw it around the room, whipping it into the shape of the walls. And I stare at Wanda. My mind laid bare for the first time in many years, bare to the girl who tore me apart, over and over and over again.
"I know you," I repeat, my face contorted. I remember everything. And as Wanda can't help but delve into my thoughts as well, she fills in the blanks.
"You-" Wanda's voice cracks, her eyebrows furrowing. I feel a sudden shock, like static, and whip around to see Pietro running into the force field, confused, trying to get in. "You were here," She says.
"They took everything from me," I say slowly, staring at the floor. "They took me from my family. They probably killed my family,".
"They took my life. They took my name," I say bitterly, and see Wanda searching her thoughts- and then mine. Of course she doesn't remember me, she was drugged for months straight, tortured dozens of us. We called her the Witch. They made her the Witch. They made me into this, and when I did escape, withdrawal knocked the memories out of me. And I was one of the lucky ones.
"Rosan," She whispers, breathlessly, staring at me.
"Rosan Hendry," I nod, lifting my gaze from the ground. "And I was raised here too, Wanda,"