*17* - Fake Bombs Away!

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
                          
"You say we're what now?" I ask. I'm lucky I'm able to speak. 
                          
The idea just seems so...impossible. I grew up an only child. There's no record of another Taylor daughter. It's only been the three of us: myself, Dad, and Mother.
                          
"You're related," Tony repeats. "I don't see what's so hard to understand about this."
                          
"You don't see...?" Gen looks like she's about ready to go into a rampage. "Well, I guess since you've never had a bomb dropped on your head, you wouldn't."
                          
"Um, does everyone forget I had to carry a nuke through a portal to save New York?"
                          
"I don't remember this breaking plot twist being about you, Stark. This... this is a fake bomb to drop."
                          
I shake my head. "Gen and I aren't related."
                          
"Genetics beg to differ." Tony gestures to the screen of information.
                          
"That's a bunch of bullshit that wouldn't make sense to us," Gen protests. "You could make anything up if the people you're talking to don't understand it."
                          
"I'm not making this up. And it's hard to disprove. I double, triple-checked to make sure I wasn't reading something wrong."
                          
"I think you need to check a fourth time, Stark."
                          
"We never met each other until we joined with Hydra," I cut Gen off before she can rant. "I've never had siblings. Mother and Dad told me I never had a brother or sister because their work kept them so busy."
                          
"Nobody said you shared a mother," Tony says quietly.
                          
I get what Tony is implying, and now I'm pissed. It feels like an accusation, what he's trying to say. "Oh, no, there's no way my father cheated. He loves my mother. He would never..." 
                          
Tony has to be lying. He can't be insinuating that my dad, who married my mother out of love, cheated on her. He couldn't have.
                          
"My guess: it was an accident, something that didn't intend to go that far," Tony says. 
                          
"Speculation means nothing without evidence," Gen says coldly.
                          
"You're the evidence, and so is Rory. Kind of hard to disprove you and the tests. You point to the same conclusion."
                          
I don't want to hear this. Genevieve Scott is not my sister. My dad did not cheat on Mother. He loves her. He would have never done something like that to betray her.
                          
 Now it makes me wonder if Mother knows. My guess is no. 
                          
"Look, you two can deny it until it's raining aliens again, but it's true. You're sisters, well, half-sisters."
                          
I look at Genevieve and realize she has yet to say anything on this issue. I can see the gears in her head turning, like she's pulling herself into the past and trying to see if Tony is right. I'm not doing that, because I know what's true. My mother and dad are married, Genevieve is not my half-sister. This information is wrong.
                          
"I'm just the messenger," Tony says. "I even had Bruce double and triple check my work. We did all the right tests, even double did them so we were absolutely sure we were seeing things correctly. The results were the same."
                          
I'm tempted to mouth off to Tony, but right now words can't come out. I'm not even sure where I would start. How about 'why would you say something like that?' Let's start there. 
                          
Genevieve walks out without a word in tense silence, and I'm left in the lab, stunned. Tony looks at me pitifully, and I feel tremors in my body.
                          
I shake my head. "Why would you say something like this? I thought you were my friend."
                          
"Snowflake, I am. Believe me, I didn't want to tell you, but you had a right to know. And unfortunately, so did Genevieve. I'm sorry."
                          
I sniff. "If you were my friend, you wouldn't have said a word in the first place."
                          
"But then that'd be lying. It's pointless to build a friendship and then tear it down with something so big. Aurora—"
                          
"Just," I wave him off, putting a fist to my mouth, "I can't be in here." I rush out of the lab, leaving a crestfallen Tony in my wake. 
                          
Instinct leads me back to my room. Along the way, I feel my lungs being deprived of air. My mind can't think straight. 
                          
I shut the door, and now I'm actively hyperventilating. I feel like puking is an appropriate response. Tony's wrong. Dad would never do that to Mother. He wouldn't. Tony's lying. He has to be. 
                          
I slide against the door, curling my knees to my chest. A ferocious headache has formed in my skull, and it's painful. My mind mockingly plays around with the idea that Genevieve and I really are related. She's a few years older than me, I know that much. Was this before they married? Was this during?
                          
My mind pulls me away from reality for so long that I don't know what time it is when I hear rapid knocking against my door.
                          
"Rory?" It's Pietro. "Rory, open up. You weren't at dinner."
                          
"Not hungry."
                          
"Open the door."
                          
Irritated, I get off the floor and let him in. He brings no food, which is a disappointment because now I'm thinking about how I haven't eaten. His face is covered in worry, and I turn and walk away from him, allowing him inside of the room. "Who sent you?"
                          
"Nobody. What is going on with you, Rory? What's upsetting you?"
                          
I lick my lips. "Nothing, Speedy."
                          
"It's not nice to lie."
                          
I cringe. I focus my concentration and create a small, snowy tornado in the palm of my hand. I stare at it numbly in hopes that Pietro will take the hint and leave me alone. His concern is a nice gesture, but it's not wanted at the moment. 
                          
"What happened, Rory?" he presses.
                          
"Don't you take silence as a hint to get lost?" I ask hostilely. 
                          
"Where is this anger coming from?" He's now in front of me. He notices my creation in my hand. "You make beautiful things."
                          
"Pietro, I'm really not in the mood for flattery."
                          
"Well, can you stop acting sour and actually tell me what's going on? You were MIA all day, and so was Genevieve."
                          
I scoff. "If you wanted to know so badly, you should have asked Tony. He could have told you."
                          
"What does Stark have to do with this?"
                          
"You wouldn't get it."
                          
"I'd like to try and understand," he insists. He closes my hand, and the snow tornado collapses. He pushes my chin up so I'm forced to look at him. "I know, I'm a pest, but damn it, Aurora, I can feel something's wrong, and I will be a pest until I know what the reason is."
                          
I sigh. "You want to know? Apparently, Tony claims that Genevieve and I are related. Like half-sisters related."
                          
Pietro initially says nothing, but I know he's processing my words. "And he has proof?"
                          
"According to him, he and Bruce ran the same tests a few times to be sure. But yeah, apparently he has proof."
                          
"And you believe this?"
                          
"I don't want to, but when it's staring me right in the damn face..." I rub my face. "I don't know what to think, Speedy. I don't know what's worse: the fact that my dad possibly has another child, or the fact that I had to find out through Tony Stark of all people."
                          
Pietro pulls me to his chest, and I put my face into him. His hug isn't tight, but I feel the comfort in it. I wish it'd help lessen the headache. 
                          
"If Genevieve didn't want out before, she'll definitely want out of this place now," I moan. "If our goal was to gain her trust, Tony just obliterated any hope of that happening."