"I've learned that time can heal all wounds, but the reminder of a scar will stay . . ." -New Found Glory.
Deep eh??? OooOOOoooO I thought it fit nicely . . . Wanna hear something exciting? Red Witch reviewed one of my BOM humors and she liked it! *Squeals* She's my hero!!! Without further adieu, (and since it seems the very life of Medusa depends on it lol) here's chapter three.
Oh, a certain silver haired muse of mine reminded me to tell everybody that I don't own him or anyone else in this story . . . damn . . . Wanda and Pietro's past is semi-cannon to the comic, I had to change it a bit for the X-ev universe though ^_^
I Turn The Light On and There's Nothing Left Redeeming
Kelly
li_luva_2000@yahoo.ca
`*~Chapter Three~*'
Todd fiddled with the passenger seatbelt, watching Lance nervously. White knuckles gripped the Jeep's steering wheel and the speedometer was up to 65, they were still in the city. He was muttering under his breath, "Miss perfect . . . fucking pickle up her twat . . . I'd like to . . ." He took the corner sharply and Todd could've swore the jeep was only on two wheels.
"Lance, calm down, we'll find him. Jean's a bitch, we all know it, you can't let her get to you."
Lance sighed and shook his head, clearing his thoughts, "Has it ever felt like the whole world was against you?"
"Has it ever felt otherwise?"
"Don't be cynical Todd."
"I'm just being truthful Lance." Todd's dad was an alcoholic . . . it was the same old story - foster kid, victim of circumstance and all that shit that people told themselves so they could sleep better at night. Looking back now, it was no wonder they all joined Magneto and Mystique so blindly. They were just scared little kids running away. That was all they knew how to do.
Magneto had promised Todd a house where he didn't have to be afraid of what he really was . . . but most importantly, he had promised him a family . . .a family! It might not have seemed much to most people, but to Todd it was the world. He'd gone through life as a dog, beaten but coming back for more just to be accepted and loved. He bit his lip and forced the memory down, it was too painful.
"The truth is overrated," Lance slammed his fist down onto the wheel, "Why did he go Todd? Why didn't he just talk to one of us? We always used to talk before . . ." he didn't finish the sentence.
"Before she left?"
"Yeah." It was a sore subject for them.
"Maybe he just needs to be alone for a bit Lance. Maybe we're really not helping at all by trying to find him. He'll come home when he's ready, we can't force him back before."
"Another hour . . . then we'll go back, I promise." He was taking this hard.
*~*~*~*
Pietro's head was in his hands and she didn't catch the muffled reply.
"She was what?" Rogue repeated her question.
"My sister," he exclaimed bitterly, fighting an unsuccessful battle against his tears. The salty drops traced shimmering paths down his cheeks, "My twin sister."
Rogue felt her jaw drop, "You have a sister?" Pietro sobbed loudly. Rogue realized how rude she had sounded. She was just so shocked. She held his trembling body in her arms, "Shh, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Pietro." What could she say? There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but this wasn't her place for curiosity. This had been eating away at Pietro for a long time. He needed someone to be there for him. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No . . . yes, I don't know. I can't tell you. . ." Pietro blurted resentfully, "It's hurts too much. You don't understand . . ." He hid his head in her shoulder and she rubbed his back softly. They sat in the awkward hug for a while, Rogue wasn't really sure how long. Pietro clung to her with needing in his strong grasp, clutching at her with a fervor as if she might leave him if he let go. He sat up suddenly and stared directly into her eyes, "I could show you though."
Rogue was confused, "What?"
He was removing her glove, "You . . . you absorb memories too, right? Well, if I concentrated hard enough, and if you didn't touch me very long, I'd still be okay and you would know, wouldn't you? You would know." There was a desperateness to his tone. He needed someone to know. Rogue could feel the urgency in this yearning, he couldn't be alone with his secret any longer.
She had never tried anything like this before. Well, that wasn't entirely true, there was that time she had taken Kitty's dance moves . . . this wasn't that different, was it?
"Please Rogue."
She had to do it. She carefully finished taking off her glove, "Are you ready?" He nodded and closed his eyes. She brought her index finger to his soft cheek and pulled away as quickly as she could. At first he appeared okay, but the cold and lack of sleep had taken it's toll on the boy and the contact was too much for him to handle. Rogue felt him go limp in her arms and tried to stay with him, but the weight of Pietro's memories was too great for her to handle. She was slipping away from the train yard at an alarming pace.
*~*~*~*
Rogue . . . or more accurately Pietro, was sitting around a fire, a small bowl of crushed fruit in his hands. An elder woman sat down beside him and smiled warmly, "Where's that sister of yours? You two are always together."
Pietro shrugged, much more interested in his food than his sister at the present moment as seven year olds were apt to be. "I think she went to help Marya with the bread." He always called his adopted mom by her real name, though Wanda insisted on referring to her as ‘Mother.' He admired her ability to just accept and love unconditionally, he found it hard to trust them. He found it hard to trust anybody, actually. At only seven he was hardened to the ways of the world, a fact which was hard to believe as they were the favorites of their gypsy band.
Everyone loved him and Wanda - her quiet gentle manner, his quick-talking charming ways. They were constantly bringing the twins little treats and trinkets and telling them how cute they were. They were the pride of their parents too, Django and Marya Maximoff, and spoiled accordingly. They had lost they're own twins before they had adopted Wanda and himself. Pietro felt bad for them, but it only made him hate the world all the more. It was so unfair. They had lost their children, he'd lost his parents . . .or maybe they just didn't want him. He was so different from the other kids he knew. He was a freak, he cursed his silver hair everyday. No wonder his real parents left him. He fought back the sudden urge to cry.
Pietro nearly screamed as a cold hand was placed on his shoulder. Smiling brown eyes looked down on him, "Come on P, papa needs our help with the fire wood." Pietro obediently followed his sister.
*~*~*~*
"Thieves!" The mob chanted hatefully. Pietro, Wanda, Django, and Marya huddled together in their wagon, silent except for his father's heavy breathing. This was all Pietro's fault . . .
Long gone were the days when the gypsy way of life was rich and prosperous, full of food and drink and revelry. Every day was a struggle to survive. Pietro has been stealing bread to help feed his slowly starving family. Django was too old and Pietro couldn't bear to involve Wanda with this dangerous task, so he'd been doing it on his own for about three months now, just after he'd turned nine. Maybe the bakery he stole from had gotten a little sharper, or maybe he'd just gotten over confident, but either way, they'd seen enough of him to tell he was a gypsy and had come after their group.
Smoke stung his eyes, they were burning something nearby. Wanda coughed loudly. Django bowed his head in relent, "They'll burn us alive. We must run."
They crept from the only home they had ever known, hoping to make it to the dense forest unnoticed in the confusion. Luck wasn't with them and someone saw their retreat, yelling foul names Pietro would never repeat. They formed a horseshoe around the family, closing in, threatening to make an circle around them so that they had nowhere to go. Marya spoke in a calm and quiet voice, "Pietro, take your sister and run. We'll hold them back as long as we can."
Pietro dashed off in the direction of the woods, but paused as he realized Wanda was not with him. She stood beside their parents, frozen in fear at the advancing throng. Pietro grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back with all his strength, going so slowly as she refused to move. They were never going to get out of here. Wanda fought back violently against him, kicking and thrusting her elbows back. Tears streamed down her face, "Mother! Papa! Papa please, I won't leave you!"
Pietro himself was sobbing, fighting, straining as the mob closed in on Django and Marya, so close to where he stood. They had to get away. The people he had come to know as his parent's screamed, their cries piercing Pietro's soul, as the townspeople began to tear at their flesh like voracious animals, beating and hurting and killing them slowly all for the sake of some stupid bread. Pietro's head began to throb - the flickering torches, his sister's cries, Django and Marya's useless screams, and the blood . . . the blood . . . the crowd bathed their hands in it greedily, it covered their clothes and splashed up upon their faces, the blood that was soon to be his . . . Wanda's - he gave one last futile tug at his sister's waist. Almost instantly he was about forty feet into in the forest, the camp was nothing but a dull glow in the distance. Wanda looked at him.
"How did you do that?"
Pietro didn't know . . . he just didn't know. He'd never moved that fast before in his life. He'd never even seen anyone move that fast before. His small headache was now an intense pounding on his temples. He doubled over and retched. Surrendering to the darkness which crept up on him, Pietro passed out.
*~*~*~*
More of my sweet little P's story in the next chapter! Hope you enjoyed this one!
GUESS WHAT??? I got a special guest appearance in Ramsey's fic "PICK YOUR OWN EVO CHARACTER"!! The URL is http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=644364&chapter=7 Go check it out, if you can handle the NC-17!! I get all four BOM members at once!! It's what I do in my spare time, really. *Squeals and dances around*