Sometimes feeling no pain was worse than feeling everything, and understanding that, Tate’s own heart ached with sympathy for his best friend. It wasn’t fair, and although he wasn’t sure because of previous circumstances, he couldn’t imagine a time where the twins were ever apart, at least not for this long. It was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. If Tate wasn’t so focused on comforting his cell mate, he’d have felt an uncontrollable amount of anger about the situation.
Guilt took Tate over when he saw Pietro begin to cry, but he knew honesty was best. So he didn’t apologise, despite feeling a need to. It was the first time he’d noticed Pietro show his intense sadness, he’d been so… strong, for lack of a better word, up until this point. He’d actually supported Tate instead, after the Capitol Gala had left him confused and uncomfortable. But now the bricks had shifted, and everything he’d been pushing away had surfaced. And Tate, being Tate, knew he had to do anything he possibly could to make that hurt go away. He’d go so far as punching a guard if he had to, although the consequences of that would be severe. “Yeah, man. I’ll spend all day tryin’. All week if I have to. Anythin’ for you.” Their eyes met, and he gave a small nod of determination, as if it would actually work. If not… he’d lied often enough before. And this time it would be for a good cause, right?
He’d placed an unbelievable amount of focus on Tate in an attempt to shift his thoughts away from his grief, to allow himself to at least breathe for a second. Pietro felt as if he were drowning underneath the weight of it, the pressure on his heart nearly crushing him entirely. But he raced through those thoughts and cast them aside, watching Tate closely instead, noticing every vowel that shaped his lips, every hair out of place, every crease of his concern. It all played in slow motion to Pietro, and even though his vision was blurry from the tears, there was something in Tate’s expression that showed determination, and truth. At least, truth that he’d try.
Pietro eventually nodded the slightest in return, of course choosing to trust his best friend. Even if Tate hadn’t been his closest friend, it was likely the speedster would have trusted in the words anyway, desperate enough to fall for anything, if it meant receiving some peace of mind. If it meant believing Wanda was okay, and on her way to find him. Once again, his gaze shifted from Tate back to the hole in the wall, staring into its centre. “... You will tell her I love her, da?” He asked, just as weakly as before, hand tightening around Tate’s.
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