Once upon a time there was a girl named Kelly . . .

Kelly treated her muse well, she really did. Sure, she made have made his past a living hell and all, but most of the time he only had to work on weekends and she gave him all the Pixie-stix he wanted . . . it was a good arrangement. Unfortunately, Kelly was freed from her 8-2:30 prison and actually didn't have to go to work that often for a week - so, P had to work a smidgen harden then usual. So did he bear down and help with the load? Hell no!

He ran at the first chance he got, leaving poor Kelly without a plot for a good part of two days. Fortunately for her, she met up with Todd and he helped her write a cute little song fic starring him. Pietro read it, got insanely jealous, and came back. The End.

The Moral of the Author's Note: Revenge is a dish best served with slime. ^_^

BTW, lots of bad words in this chapter . . . I'm sorry, I was listening to more MGB :) But it is super duper long . . . yay!

I Turn The Light On and There's Nothing Left Redeeming

Kelly
li_luva_2000@yahoo.ca

`*~Chapter Five~*'

The windowless room was dark and cold and featureless save the unopenable chrome drawers which lined the walls. He felt like he were in a morgue. One small flourescent light hummed in the far corner. There were no chairs, no tables, no furniture whatsoever. It was creepy. There wasn't a distinguishable door. As far as Pietro could calculate, they'd been in here for a little over three days. He refused to sleep, sleeping had been what had brought him to this room and God only knew where he'd wake up if he allowed himself that weakness again.

Wanda dozed under the light, faint from the lack of food and water. She claimed the light was the only place she felt safe. Pietro himself preferred the far dark corner. They had stopped bothering to speak after the second day. Speculation was useless and required more energy then either had. Besides, Wanda had been unnaturally quiet since the fire incident. Neither knew the white-haired man with the cold black eyes who had ‘rescued' them, Pietro wondered now if it would've been better to die swiftly at the hands of the village mob then slowly here in the hell of some maniac. His eyes darted around restlessly. He narrowed them at the cameras he heard swiveling mechanically, sweeping the room. They were too high for him to reach but he hated them viscously. Someone was taking pleasure in their torture.

Pietro's hair was greasy and his stomach growled constantly as if it were eating itself. He smelt of his own urine. He raced back and forth across the length of the room in a nervous frenzy, he didn't know how much longer he could take this before he snapped. Someone was breaking their will. Someone, someone, anyone . . .? He laughed, he wasn't really sure why, but he found this all hilarious. He was going to die in a big sardine can! After flying away on a big metal frisbee! He laughed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

The laughter turned bitter, the tears real. What did they want of him? The townspeople had been right, he and Wanda were freaks. He had always wanted to believe his speed was some sort of divine gift so he could escape from his dark thoughts, but now he realized it was nothing more than a curse. A CURSE! He had been naive to believe that the strange man had wanted to save him, all he had wanted to do was persecute the two preternatural pre-teens for his own sick freak-hating pleasure. He felt a hatred bubble inside him more fiercely than ever before. It was only a curse if he let someone tell him it was a curse.

"FUCK YOU ALL!" Pietro screamed to no one in particular, "I AM BETTER THAN ANY HUMAN OUT THERE! I'M FASTER AND SMARTER AND YOU CAN'T KILL ME IF YOU CAN'T CATCH ME AND IF I GET TO YOU FIRST! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

It was as if his ranting had been the magic words. An entire metal wall swung open revealing a lavish room decorated with red velvet curtains and oriental tapestries. Pietro's bare feet sank into the plush carpet. In the center of the room stood a table overfilling with bowls and baskets and plates of food of all sorts. He ran back into the cold metal prison and dragged a fatigued Wanda into this paradise. Her eyes lit up and she began to gorge herself. Pietro smiled to himself, watching her eat for a bit before starting.

The dining room connected to a small but equally opulent two bed bedroom and bath, with no other doors leading outside this little complex. Still, he reflected that having access to three rooms, four including the ‘morgue', was better than being stuck in one. He allowed himself to sleep.

When he and Wanda awoke, there were clothes laid out on the table and more food, this hot and in covered dishes. They ate and then changed. Pietro's outfit consisted of silvery basketball shorts, a white sleeveless jersey, socks, a badly needed change of underwear, and some sneakers. Who had these come from? The white-haired man, obviously enough . . .

But why? What had happened that he changed his mind so drastically to go from torturing him and his sister to rewarding them? It took him until noon to find the two other gifts that had been mysteriously left for them in the sardine can - a book entitled "Hexes and Spells Of Eastern Europe" and a heavy duty treadmill.

*~*~*~*

Pietro lay on his bed, thinking. He'd been in this little apartment with Wanda for about a month, as well as he could figure. Their mystifying benefactor continued to leave them little gifts and presents, like the gypsies used to. Pietro ached with homesickness but realized that he could never go back to any of his old places. He belonged here now with his sister. They'd grown even closer over the past month. If one said something, the other was thinking it. It was as if they had really become one mind.

They throve under their invisible tutor. Not only had they been studying different languages, math, and science, they were continually improving on their powers. Pietro could control his speed like never before, being able to use it in small, regulated bursts as well as for extended periods of time. After a few weeks of setting random things on fire, Wanda had improved her "hexes" and could do a variety of things, including the rapid rust and decay of both inorganic and organic materials, deflection of objects in flight, and of course spontaneous combustion. Pietro was so proud of her. Their powers /were/ a gift and he wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. Well, except one . . .

Pietro wished he knew his real parents. Perhaps the best gift the man had given to them was a faded old photograph of their biological mother, at least that was what the note had said. "Magda" was scrawled across the back of it and the edges were torn. Half of it was completely gone, all they could see of the other person in the photo was an arm around her shoulder. They had put it beside their beds and kissed it every night. It was stupid, but Pietro couldn't help himself, it was like he was missing a part of himself without his parents.

A gasp from the next room brought him out of his thoughts. Wanda often awoke before him and was usually the first to check out the "gift du jour". The only other time she had gasped like then was when they'd gotten the aforementioned picture. Pietro raced from their room, dragging half of the sheets with him. "What?"

Wanda silently held up a note and what was obviously the other half of the photo. It was the man. They were going to see him later that day. Pietro was finally going to meet his father.

*~*~*~*

The room they were brought to was even more exquisite and twice as large as their little apartment. A flickering fire burned in the hearth, making the room comfortable and warm. After spending so much time in their nippy little abode, the heat made him drowsy. A window looked out onto large, spacious snow-covered grounds.. Pietro hadn't seen trees in such a long time. The woman that brought them smiled, a look that seemed unnatural and almost painful to her, and spoke in a language he recognized but wasn't comfortable speaking yet - English.

He just shook his head and tried to return the smile, though he was a little taken aback by her looks. Blue skin contrasted brightly with shocking red hair. She nodded and gestured to two wing-backed chairs, motioning for them to sit before leaving.

Wanda sighed, "Pietro, I'm . . ."

"Scared?"

"Yeah."

"Me too. I mean . . ."

"We don't even know the man . . ."

"We've waited our whole lives for this and . . ."

"I don't even know how to react . . ."

"Or act or what I should say. I'm scared too."

"There's no reason to be afraid of your father, Pietro," came a calm, emotionless voice. "Fear is weakness, and you are both too strong for that." The white-haired man ran his finger over Wanda's cheek, "Much too strong." He took a seat across from them. Pietro instantly disliked him, his cold black malevolent eyes staring back at them. Wanda turned her gaze to her lap. "My, aren't my little students progressing nicely. I've been watching, you know, waiting for the day when you would be strong enough to serve me. But I simply cannot leave you to train on your own any more." Pietro let out an almost inaudible sigh. The man narrowed his eyes and stopped in the middle of his little speech, "Problem?"

"No. But we've been doing just fine on our own," he snapped harshly.

"So much bitterness, Pietro," he smirked and pulled a metal TV stand closer, "Does this look familiar?"

Pietro saw himself on the screen in black and white, dirty and half out of his mind. "FUCK YOU ALL! I AM BETTER THAN ANY HUMAN OUT THERE! I'M FASTER AND SMARTER AND YOU CAN'T KILL ME IF YOU CAN'T CATCH ME AND IF I GET TO YOU FIRST! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU ALL! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

"You were so right, Pietro. You are better than any human. You and your sister are homo superior - mutants if you will. I am too. I have the ability to manipulate and generate magnetic fields, they call me Magneto. Out in the real world we are persecuted for our powers, but we are better, and we will rise." Pietro found himself captivated by the man's words, "Your mother, was . . . normal, as the standard goes . . ." He hung his head, "I didn't want to leave you. My powers were just starting to manifest when she became pregnant, she ran off in the middle of the night . . . she was afraid I might hurt you . . . she was the one that hurt you, keeping you from me!" His voice rose, then softened, "Thirteen years I searched for you, my children, my beautiful perfect children . . . I found you and I saved you and I showered you with gifts and all I get from you is hatred . . ."

His father was right, Pietro was wrong. "I'm sorry. We owe it to you to help you." Pietro hung his head at disappointing this man.

"Father, can I talk to P alone for a minute?" The previously silent Wanda asked.

His father smiled indulgently, "Of course dear." He got up to leave.

She cleared her throat, "Actually, can we . . . um . . . go out to the yard? It's been so long since I've been outdoors."

He raised his eyebrows, then sighed, "Alright." He led them down a long flight of stairs to a heavily locked door, and let them outside.

She thanked him dully. As the door closed, she hit Pietro on the back of the head. "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, you can't tell me you're buying all this "My beautiful perfect kids" crap! Something's not right Pietro, I can just feel it."

"Maybe you just don't want it to be right! Maybe you want us to stay screwed up forever!"

"You don't think our life's going to be screwed up if we stay with Mr. Let's Kill Humans?"

"At least he's family!"

"I'm family too P. And I didn't have to starve you for three days and then lock you up for a month for you to know that! His story just doesn't add up. Why would our mother run if there wasn't something wrong with him?"

"Why did the whole town try to kill us when you set that stand on fire? They're afraid of things they don't understand!"

"Yeah, well I'm more afraid of him! Come on P, let's just leave. With you running he'll never find us. We'll be alright, just you and me P, we'll be together."

"And what's going to happen the next time our powers get out of control, huh? Are we just going to run again? I'm sick of running Wanda!"

"And I think it's time we did! I'm leaving! Now. If you want to stay then stay!"

"I'll just follow you. I'll bring you back! He can help us with our powers Wanda!"

"My power is just fine as it is!" She put her hands to her head and closed her eyes. There was a blinding red flash. Pietro screamed as it's light and heat washed over him, bathing his leg in agony.

"Please . . . help me . . . please . . ." But she was gone. He writhed in agony, she had broken his leg. He bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood with his teeth. It hurt so bad. The white hot pain surged through his body, screamed through his mind. She disappeared into the forest on the edge of the property. "Wanda . . ."

The door opened. "She's gone Pietro." Magneto carefully lifted his from the cold ground, mindful of the offending appendage, "Let's get you up to the infirmary."

Pietro stayed with Magneto for another two months while his leg healed. Wanda had broken it three places and he was in traction for the first four weeks, heavily medicated and in intense pain. After that he spent his days with the blue woman in the hospital ward, learning English. He was going to be sent to a foster home in New York. Magneto had left the house to go somewhere and do something. Pietro didn't know and didn't want to know. He prayed it didn't involve Wanda.

Pietro hoped she was happy now . . . that she didn't have to run anymore . . . he missed her so much it ached. He cried every night and kissed a different picture before he went to sleep, a photo of him and Wanda when they had been living with Thomas and James. It had been on one of their trips to the beach . . .

*~*~*~*

Rogue felt cold and groggy. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. Pietro stirred in her lap and moaned, but didn't awaken. She pulled the wool coat more tightly around him, and sighed. She'd always seen Pietro as cocky, a bit shallow - but he had so much depth he had to hide it or it would have consumed him alive way before tonight. It was a wonder it had taken him this long to break down.

She carried him with great difficulty to her car, rubbing her hands briskly to warm them up and cranking the heat. Pietro leaned on her shoulder and snored softly as she drove down the familiar street to the familiar house and the familiar people she had tried to forget when she'd joined the X-Men. She pulled into the driveway.

*~*~*~*

Lance paced back and forth in the boarding house's kitchen, mumbling to himself. Fred and Tabitha were sitting at the kitchen table watching him and Todd was currently crouched on the Formica counter, bouncing his leg in anxiety.

"You're going to wear a groove in the floor, Rocky."

"Shut up, Tabitha! I'm thinking," he snapped. Tabitha sighed, he never called her by her full name until he was really upset, usually it was just Tabby. This was probably not the best time for her to be making jokes, though. She couldn't help it, it was how she had been taught to deal with problems. Whenever something got bad, you joked about it. Lance stared down at the floor. "Why hasn't he called yet? What if he's hurt? Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, . . ." His pacing became more intense.

The phone rang and Todd dove for it. "Hello? . . . NO THIS IS NOT MARIO'S FUCKING PIZZA . . . OH YEAH, WHY DON'T YOU GO SCREW YOURSELF? . . .MAYBE I WILL JACKASS!" They stared at him as he hung up the phone, "Wrong number."

Lance looked up, "Did you hear a car?"

He vaulted over the kitchen chair and sprinted to the front door, the rest of the Brotherhood close behind. He was shocked to find Rogue sitting in her car in their driveway undoing her seatbelt, a sleeping Pietro leaning on her shoulder. He paused on the porch as Rogue exited the car, carrying their friend wrapped in what he assumed to be her coat. She looked at him, questioning with her eyes whether or not she should really be here. Lance nodded and she followed him into the house without a word.

Once inside, Lance took Pietro from Rogue. His body was trembling and his lips were tinted dark blue. Rogue didn't look much better herself, he realized. He spoke quietly, but with authority, "Fred, go put on the kettle. Todd, get the spare blankets and the comforter off my bed. Some dry clothes for P and Rogue too, eh? Tabby, get the portable heater Mystique left from your room and bring it down to the den." They left without a word, Rogue had forgotten how good of a leader Lance had really been. He smiled shyly at her, "Thank you. It's nice to know you still care."

"I never stopped caring."

"Yeah, well . . . let's get you two warmed up."

*~*~*~*

The entire Brotherhood fell asleep in the den that night - old and new members, long-lost friends and misguided enemies. None of them minded, in fact, it seemed quite natural. Pietro slept soundly, his dreams undisturbed for the first time in months. Rogue's last thought before drifting off had been, "Maybe you /can/ go home again . . ." This felt right like the X-mansion never had . . .

The ring of a doorbell at 3 AM jolted them all out of a dead sleep. Lance fell out of the arm chair with an unceremonious thump and stumbled to the front door, yanking it open. "Yeah?"

*~*~*~*

Kelly: Okay, okay, I'm such a horrible writer, I should stay away from angst with a twenty foot poll . . . at the end it almost seemed like I had wrapped it up, didn't it?

P: Kind of, I was actually semi-happy and then BOOM, two sentences and I'm back to being screwed! Why do you hate me?

K: ‘Cause you're soooo darn cute!

P: That doesn't even make sense . . . Go to bed, it's 1 AM and your starting to scare me.

K: Oh fine. Whatever. Hey guess what, I got mentioned in Psychodelic Barfly's fic!

P: For the love of God! Go to bed, no one cares!!!

K: You're just cranky ‘cause I cut off your Pixie-stix supply!

P: No, I'm cranky cause you chained me to the wall!

Chapter 6