Changing Vocations - Dark and Shameful Past story!
Author's Note: This story is set in my Dark and Shameful Past AU. It probably won't make sense unless you read DSP first. (Just click on my name for a listing, then read it. Go ahead. It won't bite you. I promise.) Whatever happened to Pietro Maximoff when the mutants at Camp American Freedom were released?
Pietro smiled with deep pleasure as he thought over the various schemes he had going this fine Christmas morning. Wanda was going to burn soon for her rebellion against him. He was near to getting a few more mutant souls. And a certain person had made him a most generous offer if he would only sell the mutant Cyclops to him for research.
He relaxed in the chair at the monitoring station. Most of the other guards were already trashed beyond bearing. He let his mind idly wander to Elena. No, she wouldn't dare drink alcohol until she knew whether or not she was pregnant. His grin deepened. It hadn't been such a bad deal after all, but Wanda still had to be punished. Giving out secrets about him was never acceptable. Not at all.
His jaw dropped, then. The cameras at the fences went down all at once, alarms started sounding, and mutants from outside were swarming into the prison. Damn it. Could he stop them?
No. This was too well-coordinated. These mutants were armed, angry, and dangerous. They cut down guards like butter. He almost applauded their cruelty. It was worthy of him. Then he got ready to flee.
How could this have happened? This was the death of all his plans, the ruin of all his fun, unless…
He moved faster than light, faster than most slow human thought, even by mutants, down to the cell block where Summers moaned away his days. In a few seconds, he had the door opened and the few people in his way knocked unconscious. "Hello, Scott," he said cheerily, and slammed his fists into the man's head until he, too, lost consciousness. He then sped away, through the nice empty gaps the invading mutants had made, running down to San Francisco.
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Mr. Sinister sighed in his dark lair under the city. While he appreciated the humans for eliminating so many pathetic and weak mutants from the gene pool after the so-called Mutant Murders, they had also removed many specimens that could have been useful to his research. Indeed, the flatscans had taken some who had been loyal to him and his cause, which meant he had to find and train new staff. Always irritating.
The front door alarm sounded. Then the basement door alarm sounded, two seconds later. He waited. Ten seconds after that, Pietro Maximoff stood before him, the unconscious Scott Summers in his arms. He considered the white-haired man for a moment, then slowly intoned, "You may continue to live."
He took Scott over to a lab table as he inquired, "Have you ever had nanites injected into your bloodstream?"
Pietro's voice was high-pitched and full of anticipation. "Does it hurt?"
He smirked. "Immensely."
Pietro stood before him, his sleeve rolled up on his left arm. He held it out to Sinister. "Do it." His eyes danced with dark joy. Sinister chose the syringe and depressed the plunger slowly. A willing subject would always get what he wanted.