I'm back from the dead! Seriously, how many years has it been? Rip Bullet, I still hope to revive you one day. Anyways, this is my reintroduction to fanfiction. We'll get to see how things would be different if Pietro had grown up with the X Men. I'm also going to be writing a lot about mental health (poor Pietro is really going through the wringer this time), so if that's something you don't want to read about, click away now. I'll also be posting warnings before every chapter, so there will be adequate warning. And with that, let's begin.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Pietro Maximoff had been running away his whole life. He'd run from Marya and Django when he discovered that they weren't his true parents, the only thing bringing him back the smell of smoke and the thought of his sister. When his father appeared to wreak unholy justice onto the close-minded villagers, Pietro had run from him too. He supposed that was a common theme in their relationship.

Anytime when the pressure of being the son of a mutant terrorist became too much to bear, for they both knew despite Erik's attempts to hide his double life, he would run again. When Wanda's powers emerged, each time more violently than the past, he ran. And on that rainy day when he was nine- I'm not thinking about it. I won't think about it.

So, when Pietro discovered that his most recent foster home was filled with abusive assholes (just like the last three), he ran. He left in the middle of the night, packing no things without the slightest hint of regret.

"What do I have worth taking anyway?" The 12-year-old muttered to himself. Still, he was regretting not bringing at least a jacket as the cold November air bit through his thin T-shirt.

I don't even know where I'm going, Pietro thought numbly. Normally he would use his super speed in cases like this, but he had enough experience to know he would need all the energy he could get for the coming months. Not only was winter fast approaching, but any food Pietro consumed would have to be stolen. The fact that his metabolism was so much faster due to his mutation only made matters more complicated. There's a good chance I'll die.

Strangely, the thought didn't bother him.

Shaking off his suddenly dower mood, Pietro decided to focus instead on where he was going. He had no destination in mind; the goal was simply to be anywhere except where he was. For the time being, he simply trudged along the side of an empty highway.

"God, I hope it doesn't rain," Pietro spoke to himself while glancing up at the sky to assure there were no gathering storm clouds. Wait a second. What is that?

Whatever was hovering in the sky far above definitely wasn't a bird. In fact, it looked disturbingly like a human. Then again most humans didn't have wings. The most disturbing fact, however, was that whatever it was seemed to be following him. Come to think of it, how long had that thing been above him without him realizing it?

Screw saving energy, I'm speeding out of here. Pietro could be ten miles away from here in a second. As a matter of fact, the silver-haired boy would be ten miles away by now if it weren't for the hand now gripping firmly to his collar.

"Don't even try runnin', kid." Okay, now he was really starting to panic. He was either about to be kidnapped, or worse: the cops were here to put him back in foster care. Maybe he could talk his way out of this?

"Let me go!" That'll show 'em. "I haven't done anything wrong. This is kidnapping!" When the grip on his shirt only tightened, Pietro started to involuntarily struggle, pulling against his assailant.

"I believe you're scaring him, Wolverine." An African woman with long, white hair walked into view, pushing a bald man in a wheelchair. Well, at least with the way these people were dressed they definitely weren't cops.

"Angel said he was about to make a break for it," Wolverine (that had to be a codename, and a lame one at that) grunted, not loosening his grip on the 12-year-old's clothing. Who are these people? And why are they all dressed so weird? Studying the man in the wheelchair, a vague memory struggled to make itself known. That bald dude sort of looks like-

"Uncle Charles?" There had to be some kind of mistake as the man smiled warmly at the recognition.

"Ah, Pietro," He said warmly. "I was hoping you would have remembered me, though it has been quite some time since I've seen you." Pietro stopped any of his half-hearted struggling as he truly took in who was in front of him. Charles Xavier, his father's best friend, the one who had been such a common face to his childhood before simply disappearing, was right in front of him. In a wheelchair!

"What happened to your legs?" Pietro blurted out. One of the unfortunate side effects of his mutation was that he often said the first thing that came to mind, appropriate or not. If this were any other person, he wouldn't care. But this was Charles, the man whose presence alone was enough to make Pietro wish to be something better. The man had a way of inspiring greatness in everyone. A wave of overwhelming guilt came over the silver haired boy. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did you say that? Now he'll just leave and you'll never get the answers to any of your questions. Contrary to Pietro's internal monologue, Xavier took on a wistful, solemn expression, as opposed to the one of anger he had expected.

"It… is a long story," Xavier explained after a moment. "One best left for another time. I believe we have more pressing matter currently." Pietro nodded absentmindedly, focusing on the fact that his uncle didn't seem to be upset about his rude question. "Pietro, you and I both know that it isn't safe for a boy your age to be wandering about without any sort of adult, especially one with your gifts."

"So what?" Pietro snapped, defensive. The fact that this Wolverine guy was still holding onto his shirt with a death grip was starting to really piss him off. Not to mention how upset the implication that he couldn't take care of himself made him. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he was only upset because of how tired and hungry he was.

"I mean no offense by my statement." Xavier spoke with an ever patient tone, his eyes betraying nothing. "And I apologize for the way we revealed ourselves. We simply feared that you would run before we had a chance to speak."

"Then why do I still feel like a captive?" Pietro made a strong attempt at keeping the pout out of his voice, but in the end failed miserably. He was hungry, tired, and now to top it all off, confused beyond belief. With a wave of his hand, Charles ordered Wolverine to let go of Pietro.

"It was never my or any of my colleagues intentions to make you feel that way, Pietro. We simply wished to extend an invitation to you. I run a school for mutants, to help them learn to control their powers and use them to contribute to society." Pietro thought about what Xavier was offering, trying to grasp the trap.

"Why would I want to go to your school? I already have control over my powers."

"That may be," Charles Xavier conceded. "But what I am offering is more than just an education. I am offering a home, a place to flourish while you discover yourself. And more than that, I am offering a family." Pietro considered everything Charles had said. He didn't really care about the family or school stuff, but it would be nice to have a safe place to come home to every night. And it sure as hell sounded better than any of his foster homes.

"Okay," Pietro finally spoke. It had felt like hours of thinking to him, but in reality only a minute or so had passed. "Say I come to your school. What are the chances of my father finding me?"

"I have no doubt that Erik will know you have joined the school almost immediately. But it is your choice on whether or not you want to see him or not, and should he try to be more… forceful, well, that's what the X-Men are for."

X-Men? Oh, all of these weirdoes. I don't think they'd stand a chance in a fight against Dad, but… I just can't help but trust Uncle Charles.

"I'll… do it." It wasn't normal for Pietro to hesitate, but to be fair to him, it had been an extremely rough day. For liabilities sake, he quickly tacked on, "But if I decide that I don't like it there, I'll leave." Without telling you, he added just to himself.

"It seems we are in agreement." Charles Xavier had one of the most genuine smiles in the world. It was almost painful to look at. "Well then, how would you feel about going home and getting some food in you? Introductions can wait until after you're well enough rested."

Pietro couldn't agree more.

This is really more of a prologue than a first chapter, BUT... yeah, I got nothing. Don't expect regular updates on this one, because I'm a broke college student. The goal is every two weeks. Just so you're prepared, this is going to be a long one. I've already got ten chapters planned and we haven't even got to the start of the show yet.

See you next time~