Live Fast
Part One in the Sid Vicious Trilogy
I've had the idea to do this trilogy for a long time, but I knew it had to be fanfiction, and I couldn't find the perfect character in Harry Potter or anime. But, then, I discovered the shibby-ness that is X-Men: Evolution, and I met Pietro. He's perfect for it, don't you think? Anyways, please review.
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On Monday the fifth of June, Pietro Maximoff woke up with a killer hangover. His head throbbed painfully, and everything seemed extremely bright. He couldn't remember most of the previous night, which is generally a bad thing.
For Pietro, it was a release.
If he couldn't remember all the crazy things he'd done, then he could honestly say he hadn't done anything. And forgetting his life was something of a miracle to him. Because he remembered almost everything. Oh, yes, Pietro- when sober, at least- had a wonderful memory. I suppose it comes from having a mind that moves so quickly. Easily bored.
When he was little, his foster parents had thought that he had some disease. He couldn't remember the name of it now; a bad sign, but Pietro didn't care. Todd and Lance moved around downstairs, and he groaned and rolled out of bed. Moving at his special speed, he made his bed and threw on an outfit- eh had stopped caring what he looked like long ago.
Girls used to fawn over him; they found his silver hair adorable, his deep blue eyes endearing, and his thin but slightly muscled body sexy. It was ironic. Girls loved him and he loved boys. Fuckin' A, as Dagger would say. Ruby, he mentally chided himself, she's dead but you still can't use her mutant name in public. She was good, they never found out about her.
He slipped out the door without food; he wasn't hungry. Either he ate a lot last night, or he just wasn't thinking clearly enough to want to eat. Or maybe he'd gotten used to such little food over such a long period of time.
"Fuckers don't fucking care," he muttered as he walked to school at a normal pace. The teacher didn't care if he missed first period; people had stopped caring when they found out he was a mutant. The rest of the Brotherhood had pretty much stopped going altogether; Lance still showed up occasionally, and Todd sometimes crept into the boys' locker room to steal, but Pietro was the only one who went regularly, even if he was always late.
Weirdly, he made it before first period. He must have gotten up earlier than he thought. Anyways, he reached into his locker and pulled out his cigarette box and lighter. Silently he slipped into the empty, dark classroom and lit up. He let out a sigh as he inhaled the first lungful of smoke, his breath clouded with traces of smoke. He must have sat there through two straight cigarettes before he heard increased activity outside.
He moved to the window, and looked out as he started on his third cigarette easily. He watched Evan- once quite popular with the skaters, now a loner because of his curse- skating alone. The X-Geeks were crowded under a tree, some watching him, Rogue doing her first-period homework, others talking or studying. Lance was also there. He felt a pang of jealousy; Lance had an excuse to be there.
Though he would have never admitted it- it was bad enough being known as "the queer fuckin' mutant"- he loved Evan. He was a bit obsessed. He always watched him. Evan must have sensed someone looking intently at him, and looked directly at Pietro. Pietro's cigarette began to burn out in his hand, so he tossed it out the open window and lit up once more.
He worked through cigarettes like crazy, but when he was at school, he couldn't get anything else. No crack, no pot, no beer. It was weird- sometimes in the middle of class he would get this crazy urge to get high. Whenever he got those urges, he slipped out to the bathroom for a smoke. Sometimes he even managed to sneak some crack-cocaine in. Usually though, it was just him and three packs of cigarettes.
Evan frowned at the near-empty box that had managed to survive the previous night, but went back to skating silently. The bell rang; Rogue went off to class, having successfully finished her homework by now. Jean Grey, Goggles-Boy, Fuzzy One, and Kitty went off. Lance had already been kicked off by some jocks, but Pietro knew he'd be back. Evan didn't come in to class, but some girl that looked vaguely familiar did.
She was carrying a CD player, and not a portable one. It was playing some song that Pietro had never heard, but could connect to, weirdly.
New Year's Eve was as boring as HeavenI watched flies fuck on channel eleven
There was no one to kiss,
There was nothing to drink
Except some old rotten milk someone left in the sink
There's no ring, there's no ring on the phone anymore
There's no reason to call
I passed out on the floor
Smoked myself stupid and drank my insides raisin dry
But at the right place at the right time
I'll be dead wrong and you'll be just fine
I won't have to quit doing fucked-up shit for anyone but me
Of course, some teacher made her turn it off, but Pietro felt the weird, trembling feeling he got right before the headache hen he wanted some fucking drugs. He left. Running out of the classroom, down the halls, towards his locker, he crashed at full Quicksilver- speed into Evan. Pietro himself was sent flying into a locker, but Evan managed to stay upright. He looked at him weirdly.
"You ok, man? You're lookin' all sick and trembly," he said with a weird look on his face. It wasn't cold outside, but Pietro just looked at him blankly.
"Hangover…" he mumbled briefly, twirling the combination on some druggie's locker.
"Huh?" Evan asked. Pietro was still trembling, but he'd managed to get his scattered thoughts back in order.
"I have a hangover, Daniels. I need some fucking crack. So I'm taking it." He spoke in short sentences as he rooted through the locker, the song running through his head.
"Smoked myself stupid and drank my insides raisin-dry," he muttered, and Evan heard him.
"What the fuck's up with you?" he asked. "This ain't you. Can't be. You don't do drugs. You don't drink. You don't listen to the fucking Alkaline Trio. What the fuck happened?" he asked his old friend. With the exposure of mutants, the old rivalry had been forgotten. Evan's eyes widened as Pietro slammed his fist into the locker next to the anonymous druggie's.
"Damnit," he whispered. "Just a fucking joint and some heroin. Oh, well, there's a first for everything," he said with a shrug and took it. Everything except the heroine needle. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. Evan was trying to think. Shattered, broken thought were running through his head. Got to stop him… too beautiful for this…God, what're those scars? He's all trembly…I think this is normal for him…God…this isn't happening. Not my old friend. What the fuck is happening? When did he change… Gotta stop him, he's too fucking good for this…
Pietro's thin wrists and several long, jagged scars- some still a light, dusty pink because of how recently they'd been formed, others hardly noticeable. There were bruise-like circles under his eyes, which were flat. He was too pale, too thin, too beat up. He began to collapse, sliding slowly down to the ground after the first injection of heroin into his blood stream. Evan quickly caught him in his arms. Pietro smiled up at him, teeth seeming gray compared to his prefect white skin. He pulled his face up with noticeable effort, and pressed his lips softly against Evan's before he collapsed back down.
It was obvious Evan had missed something- or several somethings- while he'd been musing.
"Love you…" Pietro mumbled, then pulled his face down with surprising strength, pressing Evan's lips against his own. He was slipping downward again, but Evan crouched down and caught him again, never pulling his lips away. Pietro's tongue pushed between his lips and flicked around his mouth. The pale, and probably stoned, teen moaned against Evan as he kissed him back. The stronger, and lucid, boy picked the frailer one up in his arms and carried him without a second thought out of there.
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Evan was shocked when he saw Pietro's room. He knew that it had once been immaculate and everything was always neatly tucked into drawers. Now, drawers were open and things were scattered on the ground, as if thrown there in a desperate search for something. Evan was pretty sure he knew what the search was for. A knife- glimmering but bloodstained lay on his nightstand, close at hand, and the sheets were bloodied, though his bed was made perfectly. A bag of cocaine was open next to it, the white powder also in a small pile around it. A box of lighters stood proudly next to a ridiculously large stack of empty or almost empty cigarette boxes. Cigarette butts littered almost every available surface in the room, as did needles. Evan suspected Pietro had been lying when he'd said it was his first time with heroin.
The drug-addicted boy was sleeping peacefully in Evan's arms, unaware that someone had discovered what he had tried to hide. He'd succeeded, for the most part. No one ever looked in his room anyways. Evan lay him gently on the bed, and after seeing the boy shivering in his troubled slumber; he started to pull the sheets out from under him, and then stopped. He couldn't disturb this sleeping, fallen angel. So he took off his jacket and laid it over the curled-up form of Pietro.
Mere minutes later, though, Pietro stirred. Evan was sitting in a chair next to his bed, staring at him. Pietro leaned to the side and kissed him again, softly, but Evan pushed him away before he could deepen it.
"Why do you keep on doing that?" he asked him, not particularly upset, but curious. Pietro stretched his arms up, his shirt clinging tightly to his thin, lithe body.
"Oh, I can't kiss someone I like now?" he asked, pretending to be hurt. "You're too rude, Daniels. Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" he asked him, this time seriously instead of sarcastically. But he began shaking again, more seriously this time, and his hands scrabbled at the bedside for his needle. Evan sat in silence as Pietro injected a shot of heroin into his bloodstream through his wrist. The silver-haired boy sighed in release and sagged back against his headboard, though he still trembled slightly. Evan handed him his pack of cigarettes and one of the many lighters. Pietro lit up and inhaled deeply, and the shaking was barely noticeable now.
"Why do you do that?" Evan asked him quietly. Pietro looked at him oddly.
"What, shake? I dunno, maybe I'm sick." He said, and took another long drag from his cigarette.
"No, Maximoff, I mean the drugs… the cigarettes… all those fucking beer bottles…" he said in awe as he noticed for the first time the pile in a corner, stacked in a neat pyramid. Pietro snorted.
"I don't do the beer so muchasbeforeDanielsthosearereallyold," he said, speeding up towards the end. Evan frowned for a minute, trying to decipher Quicksilver-speak, but when he understood it, he shrugged.
"If you're going to drink, whatever. We're in fucking high school, right? So who gives a shit? But why the drugs? Why ruin yourself, man?" he asked, and Pietro sighed and shifted position. Evan then realized then how close they were.
"Because… it's something to do. Like I said, when you live as fast as I do, you can't find enough stuff to occupy your time. So I started experimenting. I was fuckin' bored. But… not only was it something to do, it slowed me down. Slowed me down, so I wasn't moving at fucking supersonic speed and I could fucking pretend to be a goddamned human." He took a drag from his cigarette, and then blew the smoke in Evan's face in an attempt to piss him off.
"Then," he continued, "I started shaking if I didn't get it. I tried to ignore the shakes- I lasted two days before I passed out. See, because I don't eat-" he cut himself off abruptly, looking down at his hands which were clenched in tight fists.
"You don't eat?" Evan said, in shock. Pietro had always been then, but…
"I sopped getting hungry after Ruby died," he said. "It was almost as if… she never would have to eat again, so I assumed that I wouldn't either. Sometimes I got hungry. That's usually what I decided to get high. When you're high or drunk then you forget about anything. It's like… whatever you do, if you don't remember it, you can pretend it didn't fucking happen. Or if you don't do something you should have, you can say, 'Yeah, I think I ate,' and mean it even if you're almost positive you didn't eat." Evan sighed.
"So you're killing yourself because you have nothing to do? That's just sad, man," he said. Pietro snorted and put out his cigarette.
"You die anyways. Like Ruby said, survey shows that five out of five people that live will die. So maybe I die sooner. At least I enjoy my life," he pointed out. Evan sighed, but did something that surprised them both. He grabbed Pietro by the collar of his shirt and smashed his lips against his. Pietro shifted even closer to him and wrapped his arms around Evan's neck, pulling him closer. He opened his mouth and let Evan's tongue slide in. Lost in each other- and each other's mouths- they pressed themselves tight together. Pietro pulled Evan down on top of him, and smiled crookedly at him.
"Oh, yes," he said huskily, "I have a feeling I'm really going to start enjoying life now," he continued, whispering in Evan's ear.
"Are you sure about this?" Evan asked him seriously as Pietro kissed his neck lightly. As an answer, Pietro pressed his lips against Evan's again. Lucky for them, the rest of the Brotherhood was at school, but it was seriously doubtful they would have cared anyways.
~~~~~~~~
Hour later, Evan slept soundly, curled up next to Pietro. Pietro absently reached out for his needle, and almost stopped. Almost. But then he looked at Evan's arm. Perfect and unscarred. He knew that it was too late for him, but if it killed him, he was going to save Evan. He couldn't save himself- no money for counseling or rehab, and he knew that Magneto would make no effort to pay to save his only son.
His hands started shaking. Almost instantly. Trembling though he was, he grabbed the needle, loaded with heroin, and injected it into his wrist, over and over, until his vision went fuzzy and his head fell back onto the pillows, facing Evan.
"I will save you," Pietro whispered. "I will probably die before I can save myself, but I swear, I will not let you become what I have." Then he drifted into sleep.
But Evan was awake. Wide awake. He had heard Pietro's promise, and touched as he was, he wished that Pietro would focus on saving himself.
"Oh, Pietro," Evan whispered to the sleeping boy, "I wish I could save you. You need it. I wish I could save you. Anything I can do to save you, I will. I won't let you die like…some drug addict." He said, sadly, and then an anonymous- but very attractive- face flashed through his head, and he remembered one of Ruby's shirts.
"This won't end like it did for Sid Vicious," he whispered before pressing himself closer to Pietro's body and going to sleep.
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Pietro yawned and stretched. His hand reached almost involuntarily to his nightstand, but instead of his needle or a joint or anything else, he pulled out a cigarette and his lighter. For Evan, he thought grimly as he lit up for maybe the fifteenth time that day. Evan still slept, but he began to stir just as Pietro put out his smoke. Evan stretched much as he had and leaned up on his elbow.
"So, what now?" he asked, trying to ignore the needle on the floor that looked as if it had been used recently. Pietro wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close again. It looked uncomfortable, but he didn't voice any complaints. Neither did Evan.
"You either join me in the fast life- which I advise strongly against- or you're my boyfriend and you just don't fuck with your body. Just mine." He said, and Evan smiled softly.
"You have to stop," he said softly.
"Too fuckin' late," Pietro muttered, "There's no ring, there's no ring on the phone anymore. There's no reason to call, I passed out on the floor…" he trailed off. "Damnit," he swore softly, "Why is that song so fucking familiar?" he asked himself angrily. Evan's eyes lit up.
"Ruby," he reminded him, "She listened to it when she studied," he continued. Pietro nodded, then frowned.
"Waitasec," he said, switching to super-fast talk. "Howdidyouevenknowmycousin?" he asked him. Evan was anticipating the question, so he didn't have to waste time trying to under stand his new boyfriend.
"Um," he said. "She also listened to it a lot more," he muttered. Pietro glared.
"Answer the question, Daniels." He snapped.
"Fine, Maximoff," he muttered. "We weren't a couple, if that's what you think. She helped Kitty study, and she and Rogue were friends. We ended up hanging out once, and she watched my basketball games. She was… bisexual, so it was convenient for both of us. People assumed we were a couple because I made Scott drive her to concerts and stuff, but we weren't." he said. Pietro smiled thinly.
"Good to know. Wanda said she was the only relative that she'd admit to not only knowing but being related to." He grimaced. "If she could stand me before, I think this is going to change this," he said. "Ah, well. She saw me slit my wrists and she's seen me stoned and drunk. She'll live with me fucking an X-Geek." He said.
Evan smiled.
He decided then that maybe, just maybe, he could live with Pietro killing himself. If Pietro wouldn't stop, he'd enjoy his time with him.
God, Evan loved Pietro.
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Ehh… not the best. 'Die Young' will be better. Poor 'Tro. You just wanna go up to him and give him a big hug and tell him that Evan wants to fuck him senseless. Cheer the little Acolyte up, won't it? Haha, I wrote this before 'Day of Reckoning' aired on Cartoon Network- it was finished after I watched the HeX Factor, and I love Wanda. So, anyways, I get away with the whole no-Acolyte thing. And I think that Pietro really didn't want her to go away. I think he was scared of her and daddy-dearest.
Anyways.
Please review.
-Knife thrower