They had never really looked alike. Even as children the differences in appearance had been huge. So big that some people hadn't believed them after they told them they were siblings, twins even. Where Wanda was dark, warm and welcoming, he was pale and cold, with awful colorless hair that made him stand out in a crowd. In his head he and his sister were so obviously two halves of a whole, that it upset him every time someone did not see them that way. But Wanda had always been there to cheer him up and remind him that what others thought didn't matter, as long as they had each other. That's all they would ever need.
Now she was gone. Again.And maybe this time he wouldn't be so lucky to find her again. Perhaps she really was-Pietro slammed his head back against against the wall of the cheap motel room he'd rented for the specific purpose of hiding from the world. He couldn't finish that thought. There was no way he would allow himself to think like that. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the only person in the godforsaken universe that didn't make him feel like a complete waste of space was gone.
He looked around. The tiny room was disgusting, even if he ignored the puke colored carpet and the faded flaky wallpaper. The mess of empty bottles and half-eaten take-out cartons was his own doing, but it annoyed him nontheless. Though the thing that bothered him most wasn't the filth, but a mirror across the room, that reflected a reality that Pietro didn't want to see.
He looked pathetic. Unwashed and unshaven he looked every bit the failure that he was. Every couple of seconds he took another gulp from a bottle of liquor. He was quite drunk, which was an accomplishment for someone with a metabolism like his. It had taken an ungodly amount of alcohol to numb the pain he felt just a little. The mirror showed his bloodshot eyes, desperately dissecting his reflection in search of something. Something that reminded him of his sister. That showed she wasn't completely gone.
But he could only see his father, who had done so much to be undeserving of that title. Pietro was his spitting image, no matter how much he hated it. In more than looks alone. After all, he was a shitty father as well. There was nothing of Wanda's light, her softness, her power, her courage. Everyone agreed that Wanda had always been the better twin, in every aspect. Pietro was just everything Wanda hadn't been. But when she was next to him, she made him better. She completed him and made him acceptable.
For starters, she would have never allowed him to sit in some shithole and wallow in self-pity. He could almost hear her scolding, telling him to get up and get over himself. She would've teased him about how he looked and smelled, only to hide the worry she felt. Pietro couldn't stop the half-smile from appearing as he imagined his sister standing next to the bed, alive and well and concerned about him. Together, like they were supposed to be.
Pietro sighed, and looked at the liquor bottle in his hand, before putting it down on the nightstand and got out of the bed. A lot slower and clumsier than he normally would have, but it was a start. He shook his head a couple of times to get rid of the dizziness that overtook him. It was time to face the world again. But first he really needed a shower
