[Not for the first time, he wishes Kyrie was here. For a different reason than usual. Not to unload Wanda on her -- neither of them needed that -- but she'd know just what to say. How to give someone hope when things were desolate. She'd always done that for Nero, he couldn't imagine her not having that effect on anyone who met her. He hadn't met a damn soul who didn't like Kyrie.
He was just. Not built for this. Kyrie and Nero both shared the same sorrow -- the loss of a brother -- but maybe Kyrie could make memories into strength rather than weakness. And Nero always took his pain and carried it, sometimes for years, let it tug him in a thousand directions, let it tear him apart, until he could refine it into violence towards something that deserved it.
Nero shakes his head. How fucking close it comes to him, too. Pietro. Credo. Were they just too weak? Maybe in his case. He knew way better to think Wanda was weak, even beyond her magic.
Somehow it digs at him, deep in his chest, to hear it. You remind me of him. Because whether she's read his head or not, he's had the same damn thought.]
Yeah. Me too. [His hold is still gently firm on her, and though the touch she gives him is surprising, he just sort of. Blinks.
S'been a while. Maybe not even since their mom died. She might've been the last person to do that.
Forget the bed, already.] I mean... I had a brother. Credo. [Adoptive, yeah, but Nero had never cared about blood. Not until recently, huh?] He was killed. [Because I wasn't strong enough.] And it's funny you say that, 'cause you remind me of him. [Nero sniffs, nudging his nose with a fist. An old tick from a younger version of himself, when all he'd known was Credo, Kyrie, and the Order, never quite grown out of.] He never missed a chance to give me shit, either.
[Maybe his tone says enough that he doesn't mind it. That he's glad she's here, too. That he can have those memories and not be torn apart by them.]
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He was just. Not built for this. Kyrie and Nero both shared the same sorrow -- the loss of a brother -- but maybe Kyrie could make memories into strength rather than weakness. And Nero always took his pain and carried it, sometimes for years, let it tug him in a thousand directions, let it tear him apart, until he could refine it into violence towards something that deserved it.
Nero shakes his head. How fucking close it comes to him, too. Pietro. Credo. Were they just too weak? Maybe in his case. He knew way better to think Wanda was weak, even beyond her magic.
Somehow it digs at him, deep in his chest, to hear it. You remind me of him. Because whether she's read his head or not, he's had the same damn thought.]
Yeah. Me too. [His hold is still gently firm on her, and though the touch she gives him is surprising, he just sort of. Blinks.
S'been a while. Maybe not even since their mom died. She might've been the last person to do that.
Forget the bed, already.] I mean... I had a brother. Credo. [Adoptive, yeah, but Nero had never cared about blood. Not until recently, huh?] He was killed. [Because I wasn't strong enough.] And it's funny you say that, 'cause you remind me of him. [Nero sniffs, nudging his nose with a fist. An old tick from a younger version of himself, when all he'd known was Credo, Kyrie, and the Order, never quite grown out of.] He never missed a chance to give me shit, either.
[Maybe his tone says enough that he doesn't mind it. That he's glad she's here, too. That he can have those memories and not be torn apart by them.]