Wow, you came to chapter one! Go you!
I Turn The Light On and There's Nothing Left Redeeming
Kelly
li_luva_2000@yahoo.ca
`*~Chapter One~*'
Pietro wasn't sure why he was here. It wasn't that he liked school, and he didn't even feel like reassuring himself that the entire female population of Bayville high wanted him today. In fact, he just felt like curling himself into a little ball and crying. Which is exactly what he would have done if he'd stayed at home. So he was here.
Daniels was behind him in the cafeteria line. He spoke under his breath. "What's wrong Maximoff? You look a little tired. Up all night jerking off again?"
Pietro felt his breath catch in his throat. He would not break down in front of the school, "Why don't you fuck off Evan?"
"What if I don't feel like it?"
"And what if I feel like bashing your fucking head in?" He was yelling now. People were starting to stare. One of them luckily turned out to be Lance, who grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and dragged him out of the cafeteria.
"Alright Pietro, you're going home."
"But . . ."
"Do you really want to get yourself killed by the X-freaks? I know there's something going on with you, and I know you're not ready to tell us, but you're doing yourself more harm than good going about solving your problems this way. I'm taking you home." Pietro was too worn out to argue.
Lance pulled the blanket over him and went back to school, leaving the house horribly quiet and empty like the growing pit in Pietro's stomach. He pulled the pillow down over his face to block out the roar of silence, to block out the blinding red flashes of hate which pulsed through his brain. Pietro screamed - nothing in particular, just animalistic feral howls which rang out, reverberating through his nearly bare room. He was so alone.
Pietro quietly removed a small picture frame from the drawer in his bedside table and looked at the two people. They were laughing at him. Laughing at his sorrow, his loneliness. Laughing at how his life had turned out.
He threw it hard into the ground, hearing the glass shatter satisfyingly. Who was laughing now, huh? It wasn't so damn funny anymore, was it? Pietro began to shake with rage, balling his fists until his knuckles went white. He had to go for a run.
*~*~*~*
"Pietro?" called Lance into the dark room. He hoped he was okay. Lance had never seen him like he was at lunch today - so full of fury and anger. When Pietro fought, he did it for the thrill, the tease. He always looked as if he were having the time of his life - but not today. Today he looked ready to fight his last battle, not caring who won.
Lance wished he knew what was wrong. It wasn't like Pietro to be so emotional, he was usually as aloof about his feelings as the rest of the Brotherhood. To see one of them break down threatened all of their frail facades. Lance cursed as he stepped on a piece of glass in his sock feet. He fell forward onto the bed which, to his disdain, was empty. Pietro had gone. He picked the piece of glass out of his foot and watched the pool of blood spread in a dark circle on his grey sock. It dripped onto the floor. Fplit, Fplit, Splat . . . Lance looked down at the blood hit something other than carpet, a photograph.
Lance turned it over with interest, wondering what had caused Pietro to break the frame. There stood a boy and a girl, both no older than ten, by a beach. The boy was unmistakably Pietro; the cocky grin, the bright green swim trunks, the short silvery hair. He stood in front of a large, elaborate sand-castle, his pride evident, his arm swung amiably around his companion. It was the girl who caught Lance's attention. She was painfully thin like Pietro but the smile she wore was more reserved, thoughtful. Her thick, curly brown hair was tied up in a loose pony-tail which trailed down the small of her back. She was waving at the camera.
Lance was puzzled. Pietro never usually got this tore up over girls. A one night stand was his idea of a committed relationship . . . Yet something about the two smiles told Lance that this particular girl was more than just some summer puppy-love. To have kept a picture of her this long, she must have meant a lot to him. Lance found a note on the bedside table scrawled in hasty block letters: GONE FOR A RUN. SEE YOU WHENEVER. Lance shuddered, when Pietro "went for a run" he could be gone for days. If he was this upset, Lance didn't want him to be alone. The scene at lunch had scared him.
"What's up, yo?" asked Todd solemnly, narrowly avoiding the broken glass and sitting on the bed beside Lance. He glanced at the empty bed and nodded to himself. "He's gone?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Todd, Pietro, and Lance were the closest members of the remaining Brotherhood. Fred was just too plain preoccupied with food for him to have really payed attention on those nights they used to sit up talking, and Tabby was too new. Rogue . . . well, she used to care, she used to be there for them. But things change. People change. Lance knew that Pietro's absence would be more of a blow to Todd than it was even to him. Todd had never had many friends growing up, so losing one was like losing a quarter of the friends he'd ever had. He'd locked himself in his room for a week after Rogue left.
Lance didn't think he himself could take it if Pietro planned on leaving for good. Their world had been literally turned upside-down after Mystique disappeared. The shambles of what they used to represent fell down and all they had was each other. Without that, where were they? A peculiar sound escaped from Todd's mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to cry. Lance bit his lower lip and concentrated on being strong. If Todd started crying he knew he would lose it. Lance didn't entirely trust himself to speak, "We're going to find him. It'll be okay."
Todd's shoulders shook once, then he looked up, completely composed. One thing they had all learned early in life was how to hide pain. He laughed unnaturally. "Yeah," he agreed, rising slowly from the bed, "let's go find the hyperactive freak." Lance felt his stomach tense.
*~*~*~*
Kitty stared at the phone in disbelief, "He just ran away?"
Rogue paused in the doorway. She usually left their room when Kitty was talking to Lance to give her some privacy, but this caught her attention. She listened harder.
"No, of course I understand . . . he's your friend . . .we'll go see the movie some other night . . . yeah . . . do you need any help? . . . fine, you don't have to snap at me! . . . no, don't be sorry. . . I know this is hard on you . . .yeah . . . good luck Lance, love you. . .bye." She hung up the phone and sighed. "Stupid Pietro."
Rogue reentered the room with curiosity. "What's up Kit?"
"It's Lance. Pietro, like, up and ran away or something, so he's going to look for him. Poor guy, he's worried sick."
Rogue had to sit down, "Pietro ran away?"
"Yeah, Lance said he's been acting weird all week," replied Kitty calmly, flopping on her bed. Rogue found herself hating her indifference.
"Weird in what way?"
"Like bad dreams and stuff. I dunno. Lance had to take him home at lunch, then when he got back after school he just found a note that said he'd gone for a run."
"A run? I . . . I gotta go Kitty," she felt her chest tighten, "I have to help them." She pulled a dark green hooded sweatshirt over her tank top and laced her boots up hurriedly.
"Do you want any help?"
"No, it's a Brotherhood thing . . ." Rogue raced out of the room and down the stairs.
Kitty sighed again, "That's what Lance said."
*~*~*~*