"- 'Cause if I were you, I wouldn't be in this mess," Todd said, springing up. "I woulda already told Daniels-"

"What? Told me what?" Evan, who'd maintained a polite distance from the two while they talked, now drew closer at the mention of his name. "What's going on? What do you need to tell me?"

"Uh . . tell? He didn't say tell." The speedster's mind whirled as he wedged himself between Todd and Evan. "He said . . . uh . . . sell. He wants to sell you some . . . uh . . . candy. You know that sale going on at school?"

"Yeah . . ." Evan said slowly. "But I thought it ended last week."

"Oh, um, did it? Well, then . . . I guess you don't want to buy any," Pietro said with a chuckle that was swallowed up by the wind. "Oh well. Too bad. Well, gottagobye!" He grabbed his teammate's arm and set about dragging him down the steps.

"No way," Todd said, hooking one arm around the railing, holding on with all his strength. "I didn't come all this way for my health, yo. I'm missin' the Undertaker's steel cage match against Val Venis for this, and nobody's going anywhere before I speak my mind. Daniels!" Todd snapped suddenly at the X-Man. "I got some things to say to you, 'cause your attitude is working my nerves, yo."

Evan's eyebrows shot up. "Me? What? What'd I do?"

"What did you do? What did you do?" Todd eyes became pinpricks in his broad, olive-skinned face. "Huh. He wants to know what he did. Tell him what he did, Quickie."

Two sets of eyes turned his way. Pietro, feeling his knees about to give way, leaned on the banister for support.

"Uh . . ." Pietro's mouth worked soundlessly for a few seconds. "I-I-I-Idon'tknowwhatyou'retalkingabout.Toddwhatareyoutalkingabout?" I should run. Yeah! Run! Get out of here! I'm Quicksilver, dammit. It's what I do. Pietro stared down in his feet in dazed confusion. Um . . . why aren't I running? Feet? Hello? "Um . . ."

Todd rolled his eyes, mouthing "wimp" at Pietro before turning back to the X-Man. "Fine. I'll tell you. I was in the parking lot when you and Fuzzbrain had your little conversation today."

"What? When?" Evan tilted his head, trying to remember any prolonged conversation he'd had with Kurt that day. The only thing that stuck out in his mind was an argument he'd had with the German boy at breakfast about which was better out of Canadian or regular bacon.

"After the game. You told Blue Boy you found a note in your locker."

"Yeah . . . so?" Evan eyed him warily. "What were you doing eavesdropping anyway, Toad?"

The shorter boy bristled, hopping up until he was face to face with the blond.

"First off, watch your fucking mouth. "Toad" ain't here, yo. I ain't in battle gear. But I can be real fast, if that's what you wanna do." Green eyes shone dangerously.

"Uh, Todd . . ." Pietro cut in nervously, noting his friend's rigid posture. "Let's just go, all right? I've got this huge rip in my shirt, and it's getting cold, and my arm hurts, 'cause I hit it on the ground - . . .When Evan fell on top of me. Oops. Not gonna think about that. Not gonna!

"-- And we've got homework . . . and the old Star Search reruns are coming on . . ." And he's not listening to a word I'm saying. And I still can't get my feet to move. His thin shoulders sloped forward. And this is gonna get veryveryveryvery bad.

"Don't piss me off, 'cause I ain't in the mood," Todd said, continuing to ignore Pietro. "You're fucking around with somebody's emotions. And I'm not happy about it."

A shiver went through Evan as Todd continued to stare him down. Wind's picking up, he thought, burying his hands deeper in his jeans pocket. He wanted to turn away from the young mutant's intense, almost crazed, look, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop looking at him. Watching Todd watch him, Evan was conscious that the shorter boy not only looked angry, but he looked focused, too. I've seen that look before, Evan realized with a start. Asteroid M . . . 

On Asteroid M. He had that same look. And we were fighting for our lives.

Evan trembled again, shaking his head in an attempt to dispel the memory of Magneto's "sanctuary." "Playing with emotions? I don't understand. Whose emotions?'

"The person who sent you the letter. Who else?" Todd replied. "How would you feel if you poured your heart out to somebody and they just stepped on it like it's trash? Huh? How the hell would you feel knowing that the person you want to love you is going around telling people that your feelings are a joke? How the hell would you feel, Daniels?"

"I . . . I dunno." Evan said softly, cowed by the anger in Todd's tone. "I . . .guess . . . bad."

"Bad? Bad?! More than just bad. You'd feel like you're nothing. Like less than nothing. Like shit!" Todd roared. Several people exiting the library aimed curious stares at the trio. "Just like shit. And that's just how the person who wrote you that letter feels. Like shit."

Evan was rendered speechless for a time, contemplating Todd's words. "But . . . but . . . I don't get it," the blond said finally. "Even if it is legit, which I don't buy, what do you care about it?"

Todd stood quiet for a second or two. "What a friend of yours told you about some guy they liked . . . some guy they wanted to get close to? So they try to get his attention, right? Send him a nice little note - nothing fancy, just a little something." Todd flung his hair out of his eyes. "What if that friend of yours - say it was Kitty or Jean or Roguey, or even Fuzzface or Shades - was trying to get somebody interested in them, and having to listen while that person went around saying that it was some gag? You'd be mad, right? It'd make you mad, wouldn't it, if you had a friend getting their heart broken because of some dumb shit?"

"I . . . well, I guess . . ." Evan glanced over at Pietro, who was fidgeting beside him. "I mean, sure I'd be . . ."

"That's why I'm fucking ready to pop, yo. 'Cause the person who likes you? It's a friend of mine . . . and I don't like it when my friends get played."

A jolt went through Pietro from top to toe. No . . . no . . . He wouldn't. He couldn't! "Uh, Todd -"

"A friend of yours?" Evan said with a befuddled stare, leaning closer to Todd. "Who?"

Todd turned a little away from Evan then, his gaze curving over the area. Trees trembled in the stiff breeze, and stragglers fanned out across the quad like foot soldiers, fighting their way through the chilly gusts of air. Todd stood looking out into the expanse of trees and grass for a time, before he turned back to Evan, who was eyeing him with equal parts impatience and anticipation.

"Tolensky? You gonna tell me or what? Who is it?"

Todd nodded a little, and Pietro, conscious that he had been holding his breath for some moments, felt his stomach drop. No . . . he won't do it . . . he can'thecan'thecan't-

Pietro's breath left him in a whoosh when Todd turned to look at him, the younger mutant's eyes sparkling in his otherwise impassive face. Slowly, Todd raised a hand, almost as if he were the Pope conferring a blessing, and extended two fingers at his housemate. At that moment, the wind died down.

"Pietro -"

Todd's voice was quiet, but it seemed to carom around the quiet square. The silver-haired boy might have wondered at that, but at the sound of his name, a sudden screeching noise assaulted his ears, and he stumbled backward. The world tilted sharply then, and Pietro became aware that air had taken the place of the concrete stairs under his feet. A strange wind whistled in his ears, and he would have wondered at that, too, but a tugging at his left foot and a sudden, sharp pain in his head prevented all thought. He thought he heard someone call his name - Todd? Evan? Both? - and a rush of footsteps, but he couldn't be sure. A looming darkness descended all at once, clouding his brain, and soon he heard nothing at all.

~*~

Color, bright bits of color, swirled kaleidoscope-like inside Pietro's head. He lay mesmerized by the show going on behind his closed eyelids, a bit frustrated to find that every time he concentrated his attention on one of the dancing colors, it retreated farther back into his brain. He was jostled out of his repose when a hand brushed his brow gently, leaving a trail of pinprick-like sensations in its wake, like miniature firecrackers on his skin. A soft, slightly damp hand stroked his forehead, and he squirmed fitfully, attempting to get away from the clammy hand.

"Tabby? That you? Cut it out," Pietro groaned, tossing around. How did my bed get so hard? "I'm trying to sleep here."

"Tabby? Awww man . . . I think he's delirious, yo." A strangely high-pitched, tremulous, and un-Tabby-like voice sounded near his ear. "Pietro? Pietro! Can you hear me?"

Todd? Pietro struggled to open his eyes. The pale face of his teammate swam in and out of his line of vision. How'd he get so tall? The speedster gaped up at Todd for a few moments before he realized that he was not in his room at all, and Tabitha was nowhere to be seen. He was, in fact, lying on a bench under a very large linden tree in the library's quad. Todd was standing - no, crouching, really - at his side, the younger teen's face drawn in a mask of worry.

"What . . . where . . ." Pietro began uncertainly. His mouth felt as if it were full of cotton. "What . . . what happened?"

"You're alive!" Todd threw his arms around his teammate's neck. "Scared me to death. You all right?"

"Huh?" Pietro fidgeted in Todd's embrace. "What? I don't remember . . ."

"No! He's got amnesia!" Todd's face tightened, and for a moment, Pietro thought the boy was going to burst into tears. "Quickie, you remember me, right? Who am I? Where are we? How many fingers am I holding up?" Todd raised a webbed hand, waving two fingers in Pietro's face.

"Todd, knock it off," Pietro said, pushing his hand away. "Just tell me what happened. We were talking, and then --"

"--You dropped, man. Like a ton of bricks."

Pietro sat up quickly and regretted it immediately as his head began to pound. His vision went wonky for a moment, but not before he caught sight of blond hair and brown eyes. Evan was standing behind Todd, watching his longtime rival with concerned eyes.

"Oooh." Pietro pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Feels like a ton of bricks dropped on my head. Will someone please tell me why I feel like Fred just sat on my skull?"

"You . . . you . . . fell, yo." Todd untangled himself from Pietro's neck. "Down the steps . . .  and you kinda hit your head."

"Fell? Steps?" Pietro's eyes darted around and came to rest on the looming library and the pyramid of stairs leading up to it. "Down those steps? I fell down those steps?"

Todd nodded. "You just . . . kinda blacked out or something . . . and bam! I almost had you." He looked down, swiping furtively at his eyes, before turning a haunted, penitent face back on Pietro. "But not in time to keep you from hitting your head. I'm sorry, Quickie. I tried. I -"

"Todd, chill out. I'm all right." Pietro had no idea what Todd was talking about, but the dark, desperate expression of the mop-haired boy made Pietro want to just forget about the entire incident - whatever it had been - as quickly as possible. "How long have I been here?"

"About five, ten minutes," Evan said. "You scared us, man. We weren't sure if you had a concussion or not. Maybe you should go to a doctor or something."

"No need. I'm okay." Pietro said, running a hand through his hair. He felt no lumps or sore spots on his head - a good sign. He tentatively touched his hairline and forehead - still no bumps or cuts that he could discern.

"Don't worry; your face is fine." Evan smirked. There was no unkindness in the blond's expression, however. Rather, it seemed as if he were indulging the vanity of his rival. Pietro picked up on this and smiled uncertainly, swinging his feet off the bench.

". . . Your arm is kinda messed up, though." Evan continued, pointing to Pietro's left arm. The speed demon look at it in surprise - the sleeve of his sweater was rolled up nearly to the shoulder, and a piece of gray cloth was wrapped tightly around his upper forearm, discolored with dried blood. Beneath the makeshift bandage, a wound of unknown size throbbed fitfully, but it was not overly painful. He lifted his arm tentatively, and was soon satisfied that the cut was the worst that had been done to it. Pietro regarded his arm with interest, fingering the ragged cloth of the bandage and pulling at a few loose threads.

"Sorry about the band-aid; I know it looks kinda whack. It was the best we could do. And I had to use one of my spikes to cut it." Evan sat next to Pietro. "So I guess we're even . . . as far as the shirt thing goes."

Seeing Pietro's confused look, Evan pointed to the right sleeve of his gray sweater, from which a long strip of material had been torn out, and he indicated Pietro's own shirt, still torn from their earlier encounter. A little beyond the bench, Pietro saw a discarded bone fragment with a piece of fabric still sticking to it.

"Thanks. I think." Pietro said, glancing at Todd again. The younger boy's face still had a punched-in, scared look to it, but he seemed to have calmed down some. "It's absorbent, at least."

"Yeah." Evan looked Pietro full in the face. "Um . . . you sure you're all right?"

"I'll live," Pietro said with a grimace. "A dip into Lance's stash of painkillers, a little rest and I'll be . . . whatever."

"All right." Evan continued to gaze at the snow-haired boy. Pietro, feeling a little shy under the intense brown eyes, wriggled in embarrassment.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing. Just . . ." Evan hesitated, not breaking his stare. "Uh . . . sorry to have to tell you, but it looks like I spoke too soon: You might be getting a bruise right there." He pointed to Pietro's forehead.

"What? Where?" Pietro started in alarm. Any sort of discoloration looked hideous against his ivory skin. "Where?!"

"Here." Evan leaned forward and ran a thumb along a stretch of skin right above Pietro's left eyebrow. Startled, Pietro felt the prickly, fireworks-like sensations return, but this time, he didn't try to squirm away. He closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of the dark-skinned boy, relishing the series of tremors it sent down his spine, clear through to the soles of his feet and upward to his scalp. Pietro savored the short-lived contact, realizing just how fleeting a second could be.

". . . A small one," the blond was saying.

"Hmmm?" Pietro reluctantly opened his eyes, his skin still tingling where Evan had touched him. "What?"

"It'll be a small mark," Evan repeated. "No one'll even notice it, probably. Maybe if you hide it with your hair, like this -" He ruffled a few of the creamy strands forward, and Pietro nearly melted through the bench when the strong fingers gently raked his scalp. "Yeah. Now I can hardly see it."

"Uh . . . okay." Pietro felt his body become light, buoyant, almost weightless. He swore he could feel his feet coming off the ground. Soon, he'd be airborne, he thought giddily, floating . . . flying . . . carried aloft by the memory of Evan's fingers in his hair - even though he hated to have his hair in his face.

"Pietro? I think we should go home, yo."

Todd's voice brought the speedster back to Earth with a thud. Pietro looked over at his friend, who, observing the exchange between the other two boys, was shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "You need rest."

"In a minute, Todd!"

The younger boy's wide eyes let Pietro know that his tone had been harsher than he intended. "I just need to sit here for a sec and gather my thoughts. Then we can go. All right?" he asked in a softer voice.

"It's just that Tabby and Fred saw me leave, and they asked a lot of questions. I think that if we're not back soon, they might get worried and come looking for us. That might not be too good." Todd glanced at Evan.

"Mmmm. I get your point," Pietro said gravely, adjusting the bandage, which was slipping a little. "All right, tell you what - you go on ahead. If Tab and Fred ask, you don't know where I am, and you haven't seen you-know-who." Pietro saw Evan perk up at the last part of his statement, but decided to ignore it for the moment.

Todd blinked. "That part's true. I haven't seen, uh, you-know-who. Did you?"

Pietro shook his head curtly. "Nope. Lost him. But there'll be other chances. But anyway, if they ask you if you've seen him, you won't be lying when you say no."

"Yeah, but. . ." Todd paused, swallowing hard. "I don't wanna just leave you here alone. I mean, what if-"

"-I'll be here a little while," Evan cut in. "I mean, at least another half-hour or so . . ."

Todd looked at Pietro, who shrugged slightly. "I'm just going to sit here for another few minutes and just wait for my brains to completely settle back in, that's all. I'll probably be home before you, Toddie." Pietro grinned at the boy.

"Well, if you're sure, yo . . ." Todd still sounded unconvinced.

"I'm positive. Go on. Maybe you can get home in time to catch some of the Undertaker match."

"Hey, yeah!" Todd brightened. "It is the main event. Maybe it hasn't even started yet!" He stared hard at Pietro. "But it'll be on again on Sunday. I could stay--" He stopped short, grinning in spite of himself at Pietro's exasperated expression. "All right, all right. I get it. I'll see you at home, yo. Later Daniels," he said to the black teen. "And, thanks."

"It's cool," Evan replied. "I appreciate what you said, though, man. I . . . I hope something comes of it."

Todd's eyes flicked over to Pietro, who was tucking in a loose end of his bandage. "Yeah," the brown-haired boy said softly. "So do I, yo. Later."

Pietro looked up then, and he and Evan watched in silence as Todd walked away, gradually melting into the shadows.

"I'm fine, Daniels," Pietro said when Todd had totally disappeared from view. "You don't have to stick around doing your X-Men/Boy Scout routine keeping an eye on me."

"It's cool, really. I've gotta be here anyway." Evan glanced at his watch. A half-hour until Kitty was due to return.

"Mmmm." Pietro was only half-listening. His attention was focused again on the library, now illuminated by the light shining from the lamps on either side of the building. "Daniels, what really happened up there?"

"Huh? What happened up where?"

"There." Pietro nodded at the mountain of stairs. "The way Todd was acting, it was like he pushed me himself. Why was he acting so freaked out?"

"What do you expect?" Evan asked. "I think I would be, too, if one of my friends took a header off, like, three flights of steps. It happened the way Todd said. We were all up on the steps, and I saw you take a step back. You must've lost your balance or something, because you screamed and then you kind of . . . passed out, it looked like -"

"I what? I screamed?" Pietro was shaken when Evan nodded. He thought back to the events just before his tumble and seemed to recall a weird screeching sound in his ears. . .

A weird sound in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered. That was me. Wonderful. "Oh."

"But you know what was strange?" Evan went on with a frown. "Me and Todd turned around just as you were falling, and it was like . . . like . . . bizarre. I mean, you were falling the way that you run when you're using your powers. Like in double-fast time. By the time we had even turned around, you were nearly on the ground. Then Todd tried to catch you-"

"What? How?" Pietro asked, puzzled. "If I was going so fast-"

"With his tongue," Evan replied. "He got your foot, and was able to sort of deflect you so that you fell more on your side than on your head. When we got to you, we thought you were knocked out, but you were muttering the whole time, so we figured you were just stunned. We carried you over here, bound up your arm and just waited for you to snap out of it. But if you hadn't gotten up when you did, you were going to the hospital, man."

"Ahhh . . ." Pietro cupped his chin thoughtfully, Todd's haunted eyes coming back to mind. You saved my life, Toddie, probably . . . why were you looking at me like that? "No one saw him do it, did they? I mean, the tongue thing . . ."

"Doubtful." Evan shook his head. "It's dark, and this place is pretty much deserted. And it happened so fast."

"Right. Well." Pietro stood uncertainly, ignoring a renewed throbbing in his head. "Thanks, for, uh . . . yeah." Pietro's eyed the blond out of the corner of his eye. "Um . . . I mean, I guess . . . uh . . . seeya." He prepared to speed away before he became even less coherent. The combination of a pounding pain and Evan's being so close was having an adverse affect on his brain..

"Hey, Maximoff. One thing."

Pietro looked around. Evan was standing up, looking at him with a slight smile.

"Yessss?" Pietro shifted uneasily.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm . . . sorry. . ." Evan halted, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. "About, you know, what happened."

"Don't worry about it. It was an accident."

"No, I'm not talking about that." Evan shook his head. "I mean . . . I mean about the letter."

Pietro felt the blood drain out of his already-pale face. "The . . . what?"

"The letter," Evan repeated with a bigger smile. "I'm sorry I said what I said about it . . . I didn't know-"

"W-What?" Pietro was sure he was going to faint again. The image of Todd standing on the steps pointing at him slammed into his head. And Todd had been saying something . . .

Pietro.

Who is it? Who wrote the letter?

Pietro. Pietro. Pietro.

"Pietro?"

The white-haired mutant jumped as if he had been goosed. Evan was looking at him oddly.

"You didn't know?" Pietro said faintly. "Didn't know . . . what?"

"Anything." Evan shrugged, and then stopped, chagrined, almost as if he expected Pietro to make some smart remark. Pietro stood mute, though, staring straight ahead. "But now I do, man," Evan continued. "Todd told me all about it."

"Uh . . ." The old urge to flee came upon him. "He . . . did?"

"Look, don't be shocked. I'm glad he said something." Evan walked over to him and rested a hand on the thin teen's shoulder. An eyebrow rose almost imperceptibly as he stared into Pietro's darkening blue eyes. "The thing I want to know is, why didn't you?"