A/N: I must confess that despite the show's admittedly noticeable flaws, the writing had caught my attention in a good manner, and I could not bring myself to stop watching. In this I attempt to expand on the cliffhanger left at the end of Season 1 with some plans that the writers had announced but regrettably not been able to do, as well as fix some notable issues I've heard complaints about. Who knows, maybe I will cross over into another part of Marvel, maybe not.

"Forget it, father."

The man who stood before him had once been a tall and imposing man, even if age had clearly began to catch up with him; before today he had stood as a being of pure majesty and power and could even have been called a messiah by the creed of certain fanatics.

Today, his now rugged hair had now gone white at the edges; his face was drained of practically all remaining colour and his posture had since degraded to a hunch. The only sign he had once been a king was his now tattered and sodden cloak, his helmet long since lost in the ruins of a city.

"What did you say, Pietro?"

"I said that the Brotherhood no longer answers to you, father."

The statement was short and blunt, also carrying the cold undertone of malice. Somewhere in the sentence, Magneto sensed that Pietro had changed rapidly in the span of a few days. In the last few days away from Genosha, he had also become aware of the fact that his son had been bottling up his emotions for some time and that if he did not release them soon he would end up being unable to control them.

"What is the meaning of this defiance, my son?"

Before Magneto could even blink, he found himself staring at a shaking fist barely a couple of millimetres away from his face. He stared in a mix of disbelief and worry at his son, whose face now made no effort to disguise his rage.

"Defiance... DEFIANCE!" The first word barely came as a whisper, but by the second Quicksilver had completely lost his patience, as well as the leash on his short temper. Now Magneto found himself violently flung aside, and the only thing shielding him from breaking a couple of bones or permanent brain damage was the thankfully new sofa that cushioned his impact.

"All I asked for was acceptance and for you to show some understanding and concern! Is that too much for any child to ask of their parent? Apparently in your case the answer is yes!"

Magneto raised a hand, lowering his voice as he did so.

"Pietro, please. You're not well..."

"Of course I'm not! I'm forced to stay on American soil to do your dirty work while you cart my two sisters off to your self-described utopia! And I can't even be given a completely competent team as you stick me with a useless coward and only three other members! How is that meant to combat a man who could gut us all without dying, a girl who can turn intangible at the drop of a hat, a teleporting acrobat, a man who can send me flying across a city just by looking at me, a world-renowned biochemist and a woman who can conjure any form of weather she wants?"

This time his son left no gap for response, taking a quick breath and continuing straight on. By now, a vein in his head was becoming even more apparent and his blue eyes now resembled a glacier, cold and practically emotionless save for the hate that had now surfaced.

"For peace, for equality, for mutants! That's the slogan of your paradise, but for some reason your son picked the short straw and misses out on it all! Then again, after the times you set the MRD on me before you decided mutants needed a better anthill and sent the sentinels to burn your old one for you, I guess I'm glad! Glad that I know my father is only my father in the biological sense!"

By now Magneto was unconsciously backing away, desperately feeling for something metallic that he could use to force his son away. This time the punch connected with his face and he found himself hitting the door, wincing.

"Next time you speak to me; don't refer to me as your son!"

With that last word, Quicksilver pulled him away from the door, waited a moment for the now nervous Avalanche to pull it open and finally pushed the man he had once called his father out of the safehouse. The door then slammed shut, almost falling out of its frame from the force.

In that single moment, Magneto realised that it was too late to mend the damage he had inflicted to his son, and that Pietro was sadly right. In his visions of godhood and salvation, he had sadly lost the last few remaining ties to his offspring, and now that Lorna and Wanda had both disowned him for the recent attempts to provoke a war, there was nobody left that would care where he ended up the next day.

"The best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy..." He mournfully recited, and in the midnight moonlight a single tear slid down his face.

It would sadly be followed by many more to come.

The Rasputin Farm, Russia

Ilyana found herself shivering violently as the blizzard swept over the small farmland that she had called home for her entire life. She pulled the blanket tightly around her small, frail body, praying that the cold would relent and grant her family some peace, as well as for the safety of her parents who were trying to desperately earn money to send home. Her brother crouched over her, desperately but impossibly trying to stop the chill from ravaging her body.

If not for Piotr's return, Ilyana knew that her family would barely have made it through the first couple of days. Despite the initial help and prosperity that her brother had brought, the family had simply not been able to make enough money in comparison to the new hydroponics facility that the Russian government had been promoting for the last few months. Eventually the few farmhands that had not left for the cities had been let go, and even her brother's unnatural strength seemed to be fading now, partly from the depression that was coming with each hopeless day.

"Piotr, I thank you for your help, but you must get some rest. I cannot have you trying to shield me from the cold all evening."

Her brother refused to show whether he had understood what she said, standing as still as a statue.

"Brother, we cannot stay here for much longer. It is barely the beginning of winter, and we know that neither of us can withstand the cold for much longer. We must consider moving to the cities."

His eyes opened slightly in surprise. For her entire life Ilyana had been seeking every opportunity to avoid the cities, even going to the length of accidentally falling in the livestock manure once. It had been a strong aspect of her younger personality. Now she was willing to venture into a city if it meant survival, despite the risk of the pair of them being discovered.

"Ilyana, has the freezing weather warped your sense of logic? The last thing that we need at this time is another angry mob headed in our direction. And if the mob doesn't get us, the government will end up sending their own version of the Mutant Response Division our way. I may be indestructible, but that doesn't mean I can fight off every single member of the Russian government that comes my way."

Ilyana sighed. "At least you can hurl a couple of corrupt politicians through the window."

Piotr did not smile at his sister's joke, too contemplating of the situation. Did he wish to compromise his family's security and risk his status as a mutant being discovered, or did he desire keeping his younger and frailer sister alive and well?

His trail of thought was disrupted by a repeated thumping on the door, and he urged Ilyana to hide behind something. She slowly did so, coughing slightly along the way. Carefully approaching the door, he subconsciously prepared to transform in the event of trouble and pulled it open.

"This is the residence of the Rasputin's, is it not?"

The man who stood before them stood at an imposing height, with a coat that barely fit, as well as a hat that was pulled down tight and sunglasses that didn't seem to suit him. His pale skin seemed to shine in the near total darkness, and there was something resembling a goatee on his chin.

In a single moment, Piotr transformed out of sheer panic. Despite the disguise, it was obvious as to who had chosen to enter their household. A man such as this always carried an air of superiority, and the smugness was still detectable despite the fact most of his face was obscured by the sunglasses and the pulled down hat.

"Ilyana, RUN!"

Now as Colossus, Piotr swung at his opponent, pulling his right fist back as if ready to punch forward. His opponent ducked as expected, only to collide with his knee. Despite the injury, Sinister rose up with the smugness still on his face.

"What are you so amused about?"

"Did you really take me as stupid enough to try assaulting your house on my own?"

In that moment, Colossus felt the impact as a pair of adamantium wings collided with his chest, and he looked up to see a vaguely recognisable face staring at him in a cold and emotionless manner. Even with the modifications, it was horrifyingly obvious.

"Warren?"

"The man you know as Warren Worthington the Third is no longer able to acknowledge that he existed. Now all that remains is a secondary personality that he refers to as Archangel. Completely loyal to the Marauders and more capable in combat than Angel ever was," the scientist coolly remarked.

As soon as his master finished speaking, Archangel's wings expanded to reveal dozens of sharp blades, and Colossus narrowly dodged out the way of the first swoop. This unfortunately left him completely unprepared for the return strike, and he suppressed a grunt of pain as one blade slashed across his shoulder.

"I also forgot to mention he's considerably more ruthless."

Preparing to ascend a second time, Archangel descended once again, and this time Colossus made no effort to dodge. Instead, he picked up the nearest object available and slammed it in Archangel's face. In this case, it was Sinister, and his servant barely withdrew the blades in time to prevent him impaling his master as they both fell. Taking advantage of the distraction, Colossus grabbed both his wings, using his own weight to prevent his opponent rising. As he felt his former friend trying to rise, he reluctantly but firmly dealt several punches to the back of his head, seemingly giving him mild concussion.

"Not so strong when you can't use the air to your advantage, are you, Archangel?"

"Once again, Piotr, you seem to have lost several IQ points since we last met. Or is desperation kicking in now that you've realised we might be after your sister, who cannot actually get very far in the cold? Telling her to run can't be good for her physical condition."

Colossus immediately released his opponent and tried to reach the farmhouse, only to feel a sudden sense of dizziness and nausea threatening to overcome him. Tapping into the willpower Charles Xavier had revealed to him, he attempted to rush forwards and push into the house, only for an incredibly muscular man to block his path and slam into him chest first, causing him to stagger. Before he could completely regain his balance, a third man slammed his hands together and the resulting seismic wave sent him sprawling before the muscular lackey jumped on top of him, landing with his midsection.

Now unable to fight back, Colossus felt Sinister's fingers grabbing hold of his head and forcing it up. His hands were smooth and cold, just like the skin of a dead snake.

"Believe it or not, Piotr, I was actually going to talk to your family on civil terms, though seeing as you were the first to raise a fist my way I believe I now have the excuse of self defence." Despite everything that happened, Sinister was still acting as if the two were an arguing parent and child.

Colossus growled for a second, seeing yet another of Sinister's henchmen march through what was now left of the farmyard with his sister being dragged along reluctantly. As the man walked out, two others followed, completely identical to the first and similarly equipped with stun guns. For a second, the man pinning him down struggled to contain him before he felt a second wave of nausea.

"Quit the nice guy act, Sinister. I haven't got time for your games, and if you think that you can touch a hair on Ilyana's head, you'd better be sure that you don't care about me kicking you into the ground."

There was nothing but mild tutting.

"Piotr, please. I'm sorry we had to settle our differences through a fistfight with my Marauders, but there is still a chance for post-conflict diplomacy. In any case, as Blockbuster is presently keeping you occupied, you may as well listen, for there is an added benefit to you and your family."

As if to show his point, he gestured to the lackey who seemed to have cloned himself, and the two clones guarding Ilyana seemed to merge straight back into the first, dropping their weaponry as they did so. The man was wise enough to leave his hand off Ilyana, but still kept a careful eye on her.

"I simply ask that you hear me out, Piotr. I promise that we shall inflict no further damage on your household, or to your sister."

Taking the pause as his cue, Sinister began...

After enough consideration, I decided I would leave the chapter there. Submit any criticism (or hopefully praise) you may have in a review, but in the case of criticism please make it constructive and polite.

This has drained me so far, I hope you have had a good time reading.