Author's Note: So this is what I do when I get writer's block for some scripts I'm writing. Absolutely useless, yet absolutely fun, I'm posting it solely for my own joy. I have a million ideas on how to expand on this, and very little time. So I can't promise any thing, and won't say I'll update more on this. But enjoy!
So this is a random collection of stories and pieces (maybe connected, possibly not) about the Acolytes and other minor characters from X-Men: Evolution. Mostly concentrating on the characters of Colossus, Pyro, Gambit, Berzerker, Multiple Man, Sunspot, and the Morlocks. Welcome to Pandora's box of vignettes.
Summary: "We can do no great things, only small things with great love." - Mother Teresa : The story of Piotr Rasputin's recruitment by Magneto.
Notes: -Any text in lines like this are meant to be spoken/written word in Russian.-
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this piece. They are the property of Marvel Studios.
Chapter One: Salvation
It was funny how the weather seemed to reflect the mood. Granted, if it had been sunny out, he would have felt cheated by the weather, as if the earth had no feeling for the emotions of its inhabitants. Yet the rain that pelted the shuttered windows, as accurate as the mood was, only increased his animosity towards the forecast. He felt bad for the rain. Rain was celebrated for bringing life and rejuvenating the land, yet the only thing that he could think about the droplets falling from the sky today was how the sun would be better for her.
Illyana Nikolievna Rasputin had always been a sickly child, prone to the cold winter's chill and the summer's heat. While she received what care she could, the fact was that the collective's doctor was ill-prepared for the frequency at which her attacks came. And as Illyana grew older, so did the severity of her sickness, whatever it was. Piotr was always one to worry, and in this case, he had been right to frown when his sister had complained of a weight in her chest. Pneumonia was not easy to over come, and even harder to bear was the wheezes that issued form his sister's mouth with each rise and fall of her chest.
With all of his powers, Piotr could do nothing. And that was why the rain generated animosity in him today. Piotr himself could do nothing, yet the only other alternative to medicine, warm weather, was not there to take the protector status that Piotr could not fulfil. Ever since he had saved his younger sister from becoming yet another victim to the vicious columbine of the collective tractor, Piotr had seen himself as a protector of not only his younger sister, but of the collective itself. When they had to work longer hours, it was Piotr who offered to take the harder, more laborious tasks. Instead of a horse, it was Piotr who pulled the plow. They had been promised another horse three months ago, but had yet to see the government provide. As a protector, Piotr knew he was doing good not only for his family, but the collective as well. Yet the problem with being a protector was that he could only protect others so far.
Protection would not provide Illyana with the medicines she needed, or the care that she required. No matter how hard he tried, how often he transformed, or how often he proved his strength and loyalty, the fact was that Piotr's powers would not create something from nothing. And that was the power that Piotr wished most for. Granted, he knew that power was dangerous in the hands of one person. He desperately clung to the idea that he would use the ability to create only for good purposes, but he knew that it would only be a matter of time before power sang the right chord to entice him down a path that would be harder to ascend than descend. And no matter how hard he wished or reasoned with himself, Piotr knew that there was even less of a chance of actually getting said power of creation.
So here he sat, doing the only thing he could do for Illyana – hope. For while Piotr was a protector, he couldn't help but hope that somewhere there was someone, another mutant, who was more powerful than he; someone who had the power to heal others, or create medicine, or even a famous, powerful doctor. He didn't believe in God, and he wasn't about to pin hope in mystics. But if he was able to exist with his powers, then perhaps there was – dare he say it? – a saviour of sorts for Illyana. Nothing could make Piotr happier than the idea that someday, whatever plagued his sister, would be eradicated from her small, beautiful form. Visions of a saved Illyana flashed through Piotr's broodiness. She would become a teenager unrivalled in beauty. Young men from other collectives would vie for her attention, yet Illyana would say no to each and every one, because she knew that something better was destined for her. Piotr knew this was certain, and was determined that Illyana would think so as well. If he had to, Piotr himself would keep off the young men! Yet Piotr was sure he wouldn't have to for long. Because word of his sister's beauty, intelligence, and strength of character would reach the far cities, and other countries, and like a fairy tale, a prince, or a man who treated his sister royally enough to be a prince, would come and sweep Illyana off her feet. Piotr would be satisfied, seeing his sister married, knowing that she would be alive to bear children and make a life for herself. Illyana would be free of the prison of her sick bed. And Piotr would rejoice.
Illyana enjoyed fairy tales such as that, and Piotr wasn't one to say no to his sister. That was why he drew picture after picture for her. Such as the one he was drawing now. It was a simple pencil drawing, but he knew it would please Illyana. She always dreamed of being a princess, like Anastasia, but only in drawing would Illyana have the riches any little girl dreamed of. Riches were not everything, as Piotr well knew, yet his little sister's desires were normal, and Piotr was not one to discourage his sister, especially when she smiled so. So here he sat, drawing his sister a picture of herself in the most fanciful dress he could imagine (which was not up to his sister's standards, he knew, but he was not of the right gender for such imaginings, he argued!). Drawing helped him ignore the headache he had from the day's work – he always seemed to be getting headaches after using his powers for so long, for so many days in a row. And of course, when his drawings influenced such white, wide smiles from his sister, he couldn't help continuing whatever had made her soul flash so brightly.
The evenings after dinner were often quiet, and while the light was good, Piotr sat by the window and drew, as his parents warmed themselves by the day's portion of lit firewood. Thus, as Piotr added a bow to his sister's hair, glancing at the object of his affection burrow unconsciously into the blankets as she slept, the knock at the door was a cause for everyone to freeze. The last time there had been late evening visitors to someone in the collective, the Vladimir Ivanov had not returned with the officials he had left with. Looking at each other, Piotr rose to answer the door, but was staved off by Nikolai holding out a halting hand. Watching carefully as Nikolai hunched over the door handle, Piotr didn't miss the deep breath his father took before he opened the door.
-Can I help you?- Nikolai had once had a lovely voice, or so the other women told Piotr's mother. Piotr didn't know if this was true, as he was not particularly inclined to listen so closely to another man's speaking voice. His father's voice was course now. But he had to admit, Piotr could tell, when his father sang, that Nikolai once had the singing voice of the devil himself, much like Mikhail had.
The man at the door, however, would not have been interested in this petty information. In fact, the man's appearance was enough for Alexandra to give a small gasp and stand creakily, and for Piotr to clench a fist as he stood, the drawing forgotten on the chair. The man's features were obscured in shadow, though an ominous cape was visible from beneath the man's helmeted face. Glowing white eyes smouldered at the Rasputin family.
"Good evening, Nikolai Rasputin." The mention of Nikolai's name by the stranger was enough to have Piotr move further from Illyana's bed and closer to his father.
Alexandra nervously skittered behind Piotr and to Illyana's bedside, whispering quick, quiet words to the sick child. Nikolai took a step back, but like the Rasputin men of his line, kept his nervous features masked. -Who are you? How do you know my name?-
"I regret that I do not know Russian myself," the man continued. Without invitation, he glided inside. Beckoning with two fingers, a nervous, small man clutching his cap beneath his mitten-clad hands stepped in and nodded to Nikolai and Piotr.
-I am Yenik, and I have been engaged to translate.- Yenik nodded again, and looked to the man in the helmet. There was no man by that name in the collective, and the invasion of yet another unknown into the house was not accepted well by Piotr or Nikolai.
"My name is Magneto, and I offer a chance for your son, Piotr, to advance help humanity, and to help his own kind."
Nikolai regarded Magneto warily, glancing briefly at Piotr, before looking at Yenik. -His kind? There is nothing wrong with Piotr – he is human, and he is himself. I don't understand what he means.-
Magneto took off his helmet to reveal an older man – much older than Piotr had thought him to be – and looked carefully at Nikolai with sharp blue eyes. "Piotr is special, Nikolai Rasputin. He is a mutant, an exceedingly gifted young man, and he deserves a chance to let his abilities shine as they are meant to."
Piotr was not sure what to say about what was being said about him. He didn't consider himself gifted to the extent that this man was saying he was. Nikolai seemed to be in the same boat, as his posture only straightened, bringing the older Russian to his actual height. -Piotr has family here who appreciate him, and he has promise to be head of the collective someday.-
The next sentence from Magneto seemed to cause Yenik some problems, as the smaller, nervous man had to ask twice for clarification in hushed tones. But he finally managed to translate the mysterious man's words. "Do you really wish for you son to live out his life here? There is a world out there that promises more than a simple farm life can ever promise to a strong, fine man such as Piotr. He would have opportunities never available to him beyond this collective: science, art, medicine. All of that is open to him."
Nikolai paused at those words, and his next words were so slow that Piotr was unsure exactly what his father was thinking. -How would this be open to him, exactly? And what do you want from him? And who are you, exactly?-
Magneto smiled, and while it was not unkindly, it made Piotr nervous. "Like I said, my name is Magneto, and I am a mutant like your son."
-There is no one like my son.- Nikolai interrupted, slashing his hand in the air to emphasize his assurance on this fact. -He is one of a kind.- The statement was made proudly.
"I'm sure he is," Magneto said kindly. "I can assure you, though, that I am similar to your son in many ways." And with this, Magneto raised a hand slightly, making a light fist. It was the first time that Piotr noticed the slight hum that seemed to radiate from Magneto. And with the hum, the silverware in the cupboard flew out and circled the caped man, all while Magneto rose half a meter into the air. Alexandra gasped again, crossing herself, and even Nikolai had to let a look of surprise through his stone exterior.
"As you can see, I am gifted myself," Magneto continued. "I am offering a home to your son that would allow him to learn to use his powers to the fullest potential. Along with that home, I offer the chance of a life time – to learn and study whatever he wishes, and to build a place for himself in the world that would allow him to flourish. I am offering your son a chance to grow into whatever he dreams to be, Nikolai Rasputin. And all I ask is that he come with me."
Caught off guard, Nikolai couldn't help but look from Yenik, to Rasputin, to Piotr. Piotr could see his father was not sure what to say, and in the ensuing silence, Piotr stepped closer to his father, towering him. -My place is with my home, sir, with my family.-
"Your loyalty to your family is admirable, Piotr," Magneto said smoothly, moving his hand to rest the silverware on the table and floating to the ground himself. The blue eyes pierced Piotr. "What of your sister, though?"
Now it was Piotr's turn to blink. -Illyana?-
"Yes, Illyana," Magneto continued. "She is sick, and has been for awhile. Medicine is not available to cure her, and what she needs is not cheap, even in America."
-America?- Nikolai let his awe at the word show through as he said it. -Piotr would be going to…America?-
America was a dream of golden opportunities. Piotr had always been happy with his family, but after a life of collective work, his parents had both been developing small, unspoken seeds of hope that things would change for their children. The Soviet Union was no longer as strong as it had been in it's glory years, even Piotr knew that on some level. The Western world was the place for advancement and power. To Piotr, however, America held little value unless his family was there with him.
"Yes, and he would be well cared for," Magneto assured. The older mutant looked at Piotr with his blue eyes, and locked the Russian mutant's gaze with his next words. "I would be willing to provide education, accommodation, food, and opportunity."
-Opportunity for what?- Piotr asked, uneasy. He didn't like the way Magneto was not saying the price tag on this list of promises. -And what would I be doing?-
"Mutants are not appreciated or accepted, Piotr. You have been lucky in your life in the fact you have not been hunted or cursed for what you are. Others have not been so lucky. They need someone to help them, to rescue them, to be the factor that saves them. I can not save everyone alone, Piotr. That is why I need you to help me. To help me save those who can not save or even speak for themselves."
With Magneto's words, Piotr's gaze wandered back to Illyana, and he watched his younger sister blink sleepily at Alexandra. A chance to save…to be a saviour to others; a role that Piotr was unable to fulfil for Illyana. What difference would he make in the lives of others? He could not even save his sister…
Magneto noticed the thoughtful look that flickered in Piotr's look. "Your sister is sick, Piotr, but she can be saved. I can give her medicine, medical treatment unparalleled by any doctor available here. And I can cure her. She can live the life that she wishes to live, and flourish. Join me, and I will save her, just as you will save others."
Piotr's brow furrowed in thought. Alexandra's breath had caught at this promise from Magneto, and she looked at Piotr. Both knew that the other was thinking of Illyana's future. And both knew the cost of saving her. Piotr's reply was slow. -And what of my family?-
With a sigh, Magneto gave Piotr a sympathetic look. "Sometimes, sacrifice is necessary. I can not guarantee that you will see your family again soon. But if you desire to provide for them, I will make sure that your sister is seen to, and will do what I can to bring your family to a new life in America."
Piotr looked at Nikolai, then to Alexandra, then back to Yenik and Magneto. -I wish to think this over.-
"I will not be back, Piotr. I'm afraid I must have your answer by tonight." The statement was sobering. "I will wait outside. Good evening, Nikolai, Alexandra." With a swish of his cape, and with his helmet replaced, Magneto was gone in three quick strides.
Yenik's head bobbed in farewell and the small, nervous man scrambled out after Magneto. As the door closed, Piotr looked to his mother and father, torn within himself over what to do. Illyana would be treated, cared for…his parents moved to America. Or he could stay here, and be with his family. His parents were not young, even he knew that. Alexandra had wrinkles in her beautiful face, and her hair was turning grey. His father had a hunch to his walk after a long day, and his hair had long ago acquired streaks of white. And Illyana was in no condition to provide for the family…
-My place is here with you, father.- Piotr's voice was almost lost in the dying fire's crackles.
-Son, you have been the child I have always wanted. Strong, hard-working, and proud to be a Russian.- Nikolai placed a hand on Piotr's shoulder, looking up at him. -I could not have asked for a better son. And that is why I want you to decide for yourself. Son, this is the chance of a life time. You can stay here, with us, and we will be proud of your choice. Or you can go, and we will be proud of your choice as well. Do not think of us, son. We can take care of ourselves. With him, you have a chance to learn, to grow, and to be in America! A chance at knowledge is invaluable, Piotr, and I would not have you throw aside such a chance just because you are afraid that your father can no longer provide.-
Piotr nodded, and glanced at Illyana. Alexandra stepped forward, Illyana long since gone to sleep once more. -Piotr, I can not love you more. Please, son, do not base your decision on us. Either way, you are fulfilling our hopes.-
-If I go, I can give Illyana a chance at the life she deserves.- Piotr said slowly. He was unsure of what he wanted. No, he was sure of what he wanted, he told himself. But he was conflicted. For once, the selfish side of him had risen. He did not want to leave his family.
-Illyana will live, son.- Nikolai assured Piotr. -You are selfless, son, a trait that is not acquired by many, and displayed by even less. But this is not about Illyana, it is about what you want.- Alexandra nodded in agreement.
No matter how many times Nikolai assured that, however, Piotr couldn't help but think that this decision was about the family as a whole. Piotr was just turned nineteen, and while he was of legal age to start his own household in the Soviet Union, he had stayed with his family. He had never found anyone, and was too concerned about his sister and aging parents to think about leaving them now, no matter his desires. Now…here was a chance to save his sister, and perhaps gains something himself too. The fact that he was taking into account what HE wanted to do was enough to send both excited shivers and tremors of disgust down Piotr's spine. He was determined to make the right decision; the decision that would benefit the family the most. And to him, at that moment, that decision was to leave.
-I think…- Piotr faltered, glancing once more to Illyana and the unfinished picture on the chair next to the window. -I wish for Illyana to have a chance to live without illness. I do not want you, father and mother, to grow old here, working every day. I want to see you happy, and I can not provide you with your hopes.-
Nikolai nodded. -Son, do not base your decision solely on us.- Yet his face shown with pride.
Piotr raised up a hand to indicate he was not finished. -What I want is what is best for the family. And I see the best chance for this family in this man, Magneto. I will go, with the promise to see you three once more.-
-Oh, Piotr!- Alexandra burst into tears, and embraced Piotr in a dramatic sweep of emotion. Nikolai held his own emotions back, as he always had, and clapped Piotr on the shoulder. Piotr put his arms around his mother, and could have sworn that his father's eyes had a sheen to them. But Piotr's gaze was held by Illyana's sleeping form.
-I will come back, someday, I promise mama, papa.- The older terms of endearment were not lost on the two parents, who smiled at their son, bursting with pride at his selflessness. Opportunities were unfolding themselves like flower petals, and it was the thought of their son with a proper education that made the Rasputin elders puff out their chests with pride.
For Piotr, however, there was a pit in his stomach, as the desire to stay was forced into a knot of embitterment, and buried beneath altruism. Moving to Illyana, Piotr put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and was surprised when the girl woke up. Part of him hoped dearly he hadn't disturbed her, and the other part, related to the buried bitterness, relished the fact he would get to say goodbye.
Illyana blinked her beautiful, crystalline blue eyes at Piotr, and grabbed his hand, as if sensing his departure. -Brother, what is going on?- Her short sentence was followed by a chesty cough, and in that instance, Piotr knew that no matter his own feelings, he would not regret his decision.
-I am going away for awhile, Illyana. I have been offered a great chance to help others like me, and to get medicine for you.- Piotr's voice dropped a bit as affection crept through his carefully arranged face.
The girl's eyes widened, and she looked to Nikolai and Alexandra. -Is it true, mama, papa?-
Alexandra moved to her daughter's side and stroked her blonde hair. -Yes, dear one, it is. Your brother is making a great sacrifice for us, and for others. He will be back one day.-
-Yes, one day.- Piotr could only echo. It was getting hard again to keep that bitterness down.
-I don't want you to go!- Illyana shouted, causing a cough that she attempted to fight through. -W-What about my picture you promised me? And who will tell me stories?-
-I promise, I will be back to finish this.- Piotr reached over for the unfinished princess picture and handed it to Illyana, putting it in her hand and placing his other hand over hers. -One day, I will come back and finish that picture for you. And I will draw you hundreds more. I promise.-
Illyana was quiet, tired, and upset. She found the strength to hug Piotr around the neck, hanging on and burying her face into the curve of his shoulder, trembling slightly. -You promise?-
Piotr hugged her back, whispering, as that was the only level he dared to talk at at the moment. -I promise, little snowflake. I promise.-
-Kiss on it.-
The door opened in the background, the knock lost in Piotr's whirling mind, and suddenly, a hand was on the Russian mutant's shoulder. It was not Nikolai, however, but Magneto. The sight of the now helmeted visage caused Illyana to shrink slightly, and lapse into coughing. As if on cue, Magneto motioned, and a metal case floated to Alexandra, which the elder lady opened, and almost burst into tears at the sight of professional medicine in bottles and packets. Directions in Russian were written out.
Turning back to Piotr, Magneto motioned to him. "It is time to leave, Piotr."
Piotr didn't need Yenik to translate to understand what Magneto meant. Standing, and giving Illyana a kiss on the forehead, sealing the promise, Piotr stepped back.
-Good bye, Piotr, my son!- Alexandra hugged her son once more, ignoring the water from her cheeks that found its way to his shirt. She didn't need to remind him to remember them. They all knew he would.
-Good bye, mama. I will see you again!- Alexandra nodded at her son's insistence, and smiled despite her tears and runny nose.
Moving after Magneto, Piotr stopped at Nikolai, and the two Rasputin men watched each other's eyes for a moment, each communicating more by sight than by sound their own goodbyes. After what seemed like years, Nikolai embraced Piotr, briefly, and patted his son's shoulder. -Remember, Piotr. Trust what you know, learn all you can, and follow what you know is right.-
-Yes, papa.- Piotr nodded at the imparted words of wisdom. Looking back once more, he saw Illyana's eyes meet his, the blue almost hidden in tears, and unable to say any more, Piotr stepped outside to save his emotions from cracking forth.
"You have chosen well, Piotr. Come, we have much to do." Magneto looked down at Piotr from the hover he was now in, and Piotr could only nod, only understanding that they were leaving.
As metal orbs descended from the sky, Piotr couldn't help but be impressed, and wondered if perhaps he really was doing the best thing. It was, after all, natural to be nervous. Piotr's eyes widened in wonder at the metal orbs opening with barely a flex from Magneto's little finger, and stepping in at Magneto's motioning, Piotr caught sight of the house one last time before the orb closed. The small cottage was dusted in frost, and rain continued to come down unabated. The shutters seemed to hide sorrow and joy that Piotr knew was inside. He didn't know he would never see the house again.
The window opened a crack to admit Piotr a last view of Illyana, as delicate and as beautiful as the snow that would come. And it was Illyana's blue eyes framed with her thin blonde hair that draped across her cheeks that Piotr saw last. It was right after Piotr was enveloped in darkness and a sensation of flying overcame him that Piotr realised that he was turning into the thing he had always wanted to be. The protector, guarding Illyana, caring for his parents, working for others, was now becoming a saviour to the ones he cared for most deeply. The collective would live without him. Magneto had said there were others out there, mutants that needed his help. And Piotr was determined to give it. After all, that was what everyone was looking for: salvation.
