a.n: i've mentioned this before, but i'm really not happy with the pacing of this story … . which explains my following statement: the amount of self-control it took to get myself to sit down and focus on this is dedicated to Scribbler. not the chapter itself, however. i do not think it is worthy of a dedication…
"Crap," Lance burst after a moment, taking off after the rather disoriented blonde.
The group stared after Lance for a beat or two, then each teen turned to Todd for an explanation. He didn't seem to notice.
"What's wrong with chocolate?" Scott finally asked.
"Think about it, yo." Todd said patronizingly to the leader of the X-men while rolling his eyes. "Pietro's annoying enough on his own, you don't even want to think about him on a sugar high. I don't think we've have anything caffeine at the Brotherhood for months, yo."
"Oh." The group of X-men chorused monotonously.
They had heard many stories of life at the Brotherhood, not many of them usually included Pietro however, the boy having been a sort of tabooed subject. Perhaps it was a sick sort of curiosity, but the entire group was suddenly hit with a deep need to watch the drama unfold, and slowly filtered out of the room and moved down to the kitchen.
There was quite of bit of mysterious and slightly disturbing sounds echoing throughout the hall the lead them to the kitchen. It grew louder as they drew closer, and they could identify it as cupboard's being opened and closed at a rapid pace.
A loud crash just before entering, and Scott had to quickly subdue a feeling of dread, unaware that many of his companions were doing the same.
"No! No, I can have it!" Pietro was crying, trying to yank what looked like a bag of multi-colored, happily wrapped chocolate bars from Lance, which didn't work all that well, since he couldn't even get a proper grip on it.
"No." Lance said flatly, easily keeping the chocolate out of Pietro's reach.
"You power freak; you just want me to get your 'permission' to do anything!" He fixed Lance with an unimpressed stare. "Come -on-, I never get to have it!"
Jean had to literally stop herself from laughing at the sight; Lance had his foot calmly pressed against Pietro's chest as he pushed the lanky blonde away from the large bag of candy bars that he seemed rather set on devouring. Adding extra protection by holding the desired candy over his head.
Evan had no idea there was a stash of candy at the mansion, and ruefully wondered how Pietro had gotten a hold of it so quickly, especially without his mutation.
He said nothing about that, as none of the slack-jawed teenagers did, too stunned to do more then stare.
"Give it to me." Pietro snapped, and neither was really sure if it was because of the especially high jump or because Lance just gave in, but in either case, Pietro got the snacks.
Holding it close to his chest, he ripped open the bag, which seemed to be leftovers from Halloween.
With an annoyed rolling of eyes, Lance left the room, muttering something to the effect of, "Fine, gorge yourself and turn into Freddie if you want to."
A few of the older students followed, but Jean stayed behind along with Evan and Todd, really too nosey for her own good. And it would only make sense that Evan was the first to build up the courage to comment, he had known Pietro the longest after all.
"You act like it's gonna get up and walk away." Evan laughed at the way Pietro almost cradled the bag close to his body, almost shuddering in pleasure as he quickly yanked the wrapper away from the chocolate.
"Whatever Daniels." Pietro said offhandedly, munching happily on his Crunch bar. "I'm just enjoying myself -- and at least I'm not the one who has an unnatural obsession with my aunt's bathroom supplies."
The expression on Evan's face clearly stated there was more to this story then Pietro had said. Well, there would almost have to be.
Jean started at the sudden anger felt by Evan, but Pietro seemed oblivious to it, eating his food with enough joy that Jean could practically feel it.
"At least before you had an excuse," Evan muttered angrily. It looked as if he were torn between anger and disgust.
Pietro's back stiffened visibly. He slowly turned to face Evan, eyes immediately darkening in anger. Didn't miss that. She could feel his frustration more the anything else. She supposed she could understand, he had just woken up, after all.
And for the first time, Jean noticed the extreme difference in the two. When one thought of comparing the Brotherhood to the X-men, one usually thought of Lance and Scott. Both an embodiment of their establishments beliefs. Both so contrasting, it was easy to compare the two; easy to see where the line was drawn.
On a completely different level, it seemed that it was just as simple with these two. Pietro, undoubtedly forced to grow up at rate that was unnatural, along with the rest of his teammates. Dark and dangerous when he needed to be, deadly serious when it came to his pride and principles.
Evan, on the other hand, raised with a sense of acceptance and hope. The scuffles obviously didn't mean as much to Evan as they did to his opponents, his consequences not nearly as dire, mentally or psychically.
Pietro suddenly reminded Jean of a duck, calm on the surface, but with unresolved anger boiling and churning around inside, ready to find the perfect outlet. He kept such firm control over his emotions, didn't he? Clamped down everything until moments like these arrived.
"And just what is that supposed mean Daniels?" He hissed.
Jean was perfectly silent as Evan shrugged one shoulder lazily. "You're acting like a two year-old, Maxi." Evan enjoyed using the nickname, and the sudden flash of woman's menstrual product flashed in Jean's mind, told her exactly why.
Pietro didn't seem to make the connection, his glare unwavering in intensity.
"Going on about candy like that," Evan continued, and Jean wondered if he was aware of the sort of anger these words were making. "When you were all hyper, at least then I could sort of blame it on your mutation, but I guess I was wrong."
Jean could see the fight that ensued coming, but she could really do nothing to stop it. Not if she wanted her new source of grand entertainment to discontinue, anyway.
She watched with avid interest as the insults grew in anger and it didn't take long for the physical blows to come.
Pietro had taken some hard knocks in his life. Some, he didn't care to think about, and some were just strange.
Some were life-altering and some were just stupid.
But none could come close to biting nearly as badly as this one.
"… So, can you even do one push up?"
"Shut up." He bit defensively, sitting on the X-men couch, a ice pack pressed against the entire left side of his face, where he had been completely unable to defend against Evan's attack. It hadn't even been all that -good- of a hit, either.
"I don't think he can. How about a pull up? If I knocked you over, how long would it take you to get back up?"
"I can't believe the sedative was that strong … can you lift this book up?"
"Leave me alone."
"How long do you think it'll last?"
"I don't know, but eating all that chocolate can't be helping."
"Shut up." Pietro gritted out again, curling one arm around his 'bag of fun' protectively. He was going to Surge, too, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He had missed the sweet tastes of fatty fluffs of unhealthy food for far too long to give it up at the only chance he was bound to have for some while.
"So, he can't run and his arms are about as strong as spaghetti." Todd assessed officially.
"I think you should remember that this is a -temporary- state of being for me. Whereas for you, when I get fixed we will no longer be on equal ground and I -will- kill you."
Todd, who had tuned out sometime in the middle of that, just rolled his eyes, "Right, whatever yo. Seriously, can you lift up this book?"
Pietro wasn't entirely sure, and didn't want to test it out.
He stood and stormed out of the room, not really sure where he was headed, but he was definitely -storming- there.
You could have -such- power, dear child . . . if you were just to come to us. Anything you wanted at all, little one. Any hope, any dream, any desire . . .
It could be so sweet, dear child, if you simply let go and allowed us in, dear child. Little one, there is so much you do not understand, but we are willing . . . become one with us.
You will not need to fear a mortal death, all will be grand. Come with us, our dear child. We could show you wonders and marvels beyond any you could possibly imagine.
You possess the talent, little one, you have it in you. We could set it free, dear child, allow you to wander in lands and travel in places only your dreams could lead you . . .
If you only listen to us, little one . . .
Little one . . .
Little one . . .
Wanda . . .
Wanda . . .
"Wanda!"
"Wha--" Wanda chocked out, straightening in her bed immediately, every muscle in her body tense as she prepared for large, muscled arms to jerk her body around, to calm her down from a nightmare that could surely have disastrous affects on her mental health. It took a moment of deep, panting breathes to realize that she was no longer in the asylum.
She met the concerned blue eyes that were perfect reflections of her own. "Pietro," She said slowly.
"Uh . . . Yeah." He said, suddenly uncomfortable, and creating as much distance between himself and his sister without falling off the bed. "You were doing the whole . . . you know, nightmare thing, "
He winced inwardly at his 'Kitty-grammar' but Wanda said nothing about it. Just like he didn't ask why Wanda was taking a nap at lunchtime. Although the answer (she was in the infirmary all night) would've pleased him. Had she told him the truth, that is.
"Oh," She looked a little confused. She stared at Pietro's face for a moment longer, as she were trying to place it. "Goodnight."
Convinced the odd words were nothing more then a dream, she shook her head. If she could have anything she wanted . . . Well, Pietro would sure be a different person, that's for sure. Not a mini-me of her father. Her twin, the twin that she remembered . . .
.
"Crap," Lance burst after a moment, taking off after the rather disoriented blonde.
The group stared after Lance for a beat or two, then each teen turned to Todd for an explanation. He didn't seem to notice.
"What's wrong with chocolate?" Scott finally asked.
"Think about it, yo." Todd said patronizingly to the leader of the X-men while rolling his eyes. "Pietro's annoying enough on his own, you don't even want to think about him on a sugar high. I don't think we've have anything caffeine at the Brotherhood for months, yo."
"Oh." The group of X-men chorused monotonously.
They had heard many stories of life at the Brotherhood, not many of them usually included Pietro however, the boy having been a sort of tabooed subject. Perhaps it was a sick sort of curiosity, but the entire group was suddenly hit with a deep need to watch the drama unfold, and slowly filtered out of the room and moved down to the kitchen.
There was quite of bit of mysterious and slightly disturbing sounds echoing throughout the hall the lead them to the kitchen. It grew louder as they drew closer, and they could identify it as cupboard's being opened and closed at a rapid pace.
A loud crash just before entering, and Scott had to quickly subdue a feeling of dread, unaware that many of his companions were doing the same.
"No! No, I can have it!" Pietro was crying, trying to yank what looked like a bag of multi-colored, happily wrapped chocolate bars from Lance, which didn't work all that well, since he couldn't even get a proper grip on it.
"No." Lance said flatly, easily keeping the chocolate out of Pietro's reach.
"You power freak; you just want me to get your 'permission' to do anything!" He fixed Lance with an unimpressed stare. "Come -on-, I never get to have it!"
Jean had to literally stop herself from laughing at the sight; Lance had his foot calmly pressed against Pietro's chest as he pushed the lanky blonde away from the large bag of candy bars that he seemed rather set on devouring. Adding extra protection by holding the desired candy over his head.
Evan had no idea there was a stash of candy at the mansion, and ruefully wondered how Pietro had gotten a hold of it so quickly, especially without his mutation.
He said nothing about that, as none of the slack-jawed teenagers did, too stunned to do more then stare.
"Give it to me." Pietro snapped, and neither was really sure if it was because of the especially high jump or because Lance just gave in, but in either case, Pietro got the snacks.
Holding it close to his chest, he ripped open the bag, which seemed to be leftovers from Halloween.
With an annoyed rolling of eyes, Lance left the room, muttering something to the effect of, "Fine, gorge yourself and turn into Freddie if you want to."
A few of the older students followed, but Jean stayed behind along with Evan and Todd, really too nosey for her own good. And it would only make sense that Evan was the first to build up the courage to comment, he had known Pietro the longest after all.
"You act like it's gonna get up and walk away." Evan laughed at the way Pietro almost cradled the bag close to his body, almost shuddering in pleasure as he quickly yanked the wrapper away from the chocolate.
"Whatever Daniels." Pietro said offhandedly, munching happily on his Crunch bar. "I'm just enjoying myself -- and at least I'm not the one who has an unnatural obsession with my aunt's bathroom supplies."
The expression on Evan's face clearly stated there was more to this story then Pietro had said. Well, there would almost have to be.
Jean started at the sudden anger felt by Evan, but Pietro seemed oblivious to it, eating his food with enough joy that Jean could practically feel it.
"At least before you had an excuse," Evan muttered angrily. It looked as if he were torn between anger and disgust.
Pietro's back stiffened visibly. He slowly turned to face Evan, eyes immediately darkening in anger. Didn't miss that. She could feel his frustration more the anything else. She supposed she could understand, he had just woken up, after all.
And for the first time, Jean noticed the extreme difference in the two. When one thought of comparing the Brotherhood to the X-men, one usually thought of Lance and Scott. Both an embodiment of their establishments beliefs. Both so contrasting, it was easy to compare the two; easy to see where the line was drawn.
On a completely different level, it seemed that it was just as simple with these two. Pietro, undoubtedly forced to grow up at rate that was unnatural, along with the rest of his teammates. Dark and dangerous when he needed to be, deadly serious when it came to his pride and principles.
Evan, on the other hand, raised with a sense of acceptance and hope. The scuffles obviously didn't mean as much to Evan as they did to his opponents, his consequences not nearly as dire, mentally or psychically.
Pietro suddenly reminded Jean of a duck, calm on the surface, but with unresolved anger boiling and churning around inside, ready to find the perfect outlet. He kept such firm control over his emotions, didn't he? Clamped down everything until moments like these arrived.
"And just what is that supposed mean Daniels?" He hissed.
Jean was perfectly silent as Evan shrugged one shoulder lazily. "You're acting like a two year-old, Maxi." Evan enjoyed using the nickname, and the sudden flash of woman's menstrual product flashed in Jean's mind, told her exactly why.
Pietro didn't seem to make the connection, his glare unwavering in intensity.
"Going on about candy like that," Evan continued, and Jean wondered if he was aware of the sort of anger these words were making. "When you were all hyper, at least then I could sort of blame it on your mutation, but I guess I was wrong."
Jean could see the fight that ensued coming, but she could really do nothing to stop it. Not if she wanted her new source of grand entertainment to discontinue, anyway.
She watched with avid interest as the insults grew in anger and it didn't take long for the physical blows to come.
Pietro had taken some hard knocks in his life. Some, he didn't care to think about, and some were just strange.
Some were life-altering and some were just stupid.
But none could come close to biting nearly as badly as this one.
"… So, can you even do one push up?"
"Shut up." He bit defensively, sitting on the X-men couch, a ice pack pressed against the entire left side of his face, where he had been completely unable to defend against Evan's attack. It hadn't even been all that -good- of a hit, either.
"I don't think he can. How about a pull up? If I knocked you over, how long would it take you to get back up?"
"I can't believe the sedative was that strong … can you lift this book up?"
"Leave me alone."
"How long do you think it'll last?"
"I don't know, but eating all that chocolate can't be helping."
"Shut up." Pietro gritted out again, curling one arm around his 'bag of fun' protectively. He was going to Surge, too, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He had missed the sweet tastes of fatty fluffs of unhealthy food for far too long to give it up at the only chance he was bound to have for some while.
"So, he can't run and his arms are about as strong as spaghetti." Todd assessed officially.
"I think you should remember that this is a -temporary- state of being for me. Whereas for you, when I get fixed we will no longer be on equal ground and I -will- kill you."
Todd, who had tuned out sometime in the middle of that, just rolled his eyes, "Right, whatever yo. Seriously, can you lift up this book?"
Pietro wasn't entirely sure, and didn't want to test it out.
He stood and stormed out of the room, not really sure where he was headed, but he was definitely -storming- there.
You could have -such- power, dear child . . . if you were just to come to us. Anything you wanted at all, little one. Any hope, any dream, any desire . . .
It could be so sweet, dear child, if you simply let go and allowed us in, dear child. Little one, there is so much you do not understand, but we are willing . . . become one with us.
You will not need to fear a mortal death, all will be grand. Come with us, our dear child. We could show you wonders and marvels beyond any you could possibly imagine.
You possess the talent, little one, you have it in you. We could set it free, dear child, allow you to wander in lands and travel in places only your dreams could lead you . . .
If you only listen to us, little one . . .
Little one . . .
Little one . . .
Wanda . . .
Wanda . . .
"Wanda!"
"Wha--" Wanda chocked out, straightening in her bed immediately, every muscle in her body tense as she prepared for large, muscled arms to jerk her body around, to calm her down from a nightmare that could surely have disastrous affects on her mental health. It took a moment of deep, panting breathes to realize that she was no longer in the asylum.
She met the concerned blue eyes that were perfect reflections of her own. "Pietro," She said slowly.
"Uh . . . Yeah." He said, suddenly uncomfortable, and creating as much distance between himself and his sister without falling off the bed. "You were doing the whole . . . you know, nightmare thing, "
He winced inwardly at his 'Kitty-grammar' but Wanda said nothing about it. Just like he didn't ask why Wanda was taking a nap at lunchtime. Although the answer (she was in the infirmary all night) would've pleased him. Had she told him the truth, that is.
"Oh," She looked a little confused. She stared at Pietro's face for a moment longer, as she were trying to place it. "Goodnight."
Convinced the odd words were nothing more then a dream, she shook her head. If she could have anything she wanted . . . Well, Pietro would sure be a different person, that's for sure. Not a mini-me of her father. Her twin, the twin that she remembered . . .
.