Disclaimer- I don't own Quicksilver. Don't own Scarlet Witch.
Summary- Pietro and Wanda are eight years old and they're playing 'It'. Isn't that just so cute? It's before they get picked up by Mr. High-And- Almighty Mags though. One shot.
AN- Pietro, pronounced Pee-A-tro
Chapter One- Tag, It, Cheating (Am Not!)
"Tag! You're it again, Wanda!" shrieked an excited Pietro in delight.
"You're using your powers!" whined Wanda. "You're cheating!"
"Am not!" said Pietro indignantly.
"Yes you are, Pietro!" she hollered, "You could not of tagged me that fast!"
"Nuh uh!" he retorted, "Just because I'm faster than you doesn't mean you have to whine about it."
"I wouldn't whine about it if you DIDN'T USE YOUR POWERS!" screamed Wanda.
"Fine we'll start over again," said Pietro, running a small hand through his silver white hair.
"No! You'll just use your powers again!" said Wanda as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"No! I won't! I promise!" promised Pietro.
"You promised last time!" she yelled, "How do I know you're just not lying again?"
"Because last time I crossed my fingers in my pocket, Dummy!" he exclaimed exasperatedly. He put both his small, white hands in front of him, the palms facing her, his skinny little fingers spread out as far apart as they can go, to show her he wouldn't lie again.
"But what if you cross your toes?" she asked, "How do I know you're not crossing your toes?"
He plopped down on his bottom, in the thick, green grass, pulled off his shoes and socks and wiggled his toes to show her.
Satisfied, Wanda said, "Now you got to promise again, without crossing anything!"
He stood up, his hands still in front of him, his toes wiggling, and he said solemnly, "I promise to you, my little twin sister Wanda Maximoff, that I will not use my powers in any way to win the game of 'Tag You're It!'"
Wanda wrinkled her nose, "I think you're telling the truth about your promise, but you are the younger one!"
"No way! I'm the boy! Boys are older!" he said loudly.
"That doesn't necessarily mean you are older," she retorted, "Besides, you can't be older, I'm taller."
"No! I'm taller! Boys are taller! And I am the boy here." He exclaimed.
"No! I'm taller, therefore I'm older," she explained, as though this information was enough.
She suddenly saw a blur, and not even a half a second later Pietro was right next to her, ordering her to stand up straight.
"This is pointless, Little Brother," she said as he compared their heights, "We both know I'm taller."
"We're exactly the same," he concluded. "Therefore, it cannot be decided yet who is older and who is not."
"Fine," she said, "Now let's play tag. On the count of three?"
"One.Two.Three!"
"Notit!"
"Not it! Oh, Pietro! You cheated again!" she wailed.
"I did not! I'm a naturally fast talker! You're just a slow talker!" he said, "Now, I get a three-second head start!" and he ran away as fast as his little legs could carry him (without using his powers, which was still pretty fast).
Wanda counted to three in her head and started running after her brother, determined to tag him this time.
If anyone were to look at these two children now, they would see a little girl with a yellow shirt on and light blue jeans, her black, downy soft hair flowing around behind her as she ran. They would see a little boy with unusually silvery-white hair, with a turquoise hooded sweatshirt and blue shorts, running around barefoot laughing gleefully as his sister chased him.
After awhile though Wanda started to get tired, and it showed as she was slowing down and breathing kind of hard. So Pietro slowed his running down so she could have a chance to tag him.
"Tag! You're.it.Pietro!" she laughed.
"No, lets stop playing," Little Pietro had no desire to be 'it'. Better quit when she's tired and won't protest.
Sitting down next to him, Wanda asked, "How come I don't have powers like you?"
Pondering this, Pietro took a few seconds to answer, "You'll get them soon. Then we'll have powers together!"
She smiled brightly, "Good!"
"Pietro?"
"Huh?"
"I love you,"
Turning his sparkling sapphire eyes to her, he said softly, "I love you too."
Wanda woke up with a start, her face beaded with sweat and her breath coming in haggard gasps. Looking toward the mirror she saw that she cracked it in her sleep.
"Great," she muttered.
Pondering her dream, she put her face in her hands and thought about it. She remembered it clearly. It was about her and Pietro. But why did she wake up so abruptly? Why did it seem like a nightmare instead of a pleasant dream? A pleasant memory?
Confused, she lifted herself off her bed and opened her bedroom door quietly. Tiptoeing through the dark hall, she stopped at a door that was ajar, the moonlight showing through it and spilling into a fraction of the hall.
Pushing the door silently she tiptoed quietly inside. Pietro was a very light sleeper. He always was.
Walking quietly toward his bed she saw that his body was covered with sweat and he kept rolling over to one side, then to the other, moaning, muttering in complete gibberish.
About to place a hand on his shoulder to wake him up, she froze when something understandable escaped his lips.
"No.Father.don't.take.away.I'll.help.her.Not.a.weakling." he muttered so quietly she had to strain to hear.
She bolted from the room just seconds before he sat up abruptly, gasping for air.
Now utterly confused, Wanda thought about what Pietro had let escape his mouth in his dreams.
Who did he want to help?
Who or what was taken away?
Who was the weakling?
She thought that he was talking about himself not being the weakling. It was probably that.
Stopping in the middle of the hall, clutching her head in both hands. She couldn't think. She was too tired. She needed rest.
But as she climbed back into her bed she wondered out loud, "What does it mean?"
Unfortunately for Wanda she kept dreaming that she was being taken away for the rest of the night. She didn't remember them afterwards.
Pietro got no more sleep that night. He went for a run.
Summary- Pietro and Wanda are eight years old and they're playing 'It'. Isn't that just so cute? It's before they get picked up by Mr. High-And- Almighty Mags though. One shot.
AN- Pietro, pronounced Pee-A-tro
Chapter One- Tag, It, Cheating (Am Not!)
"Tag! You're it again, Wanda!" shrieked an excited Pietro in delight.
"You're using your powers!" whined Wanda. "You're cheating!"
"Am not!" said Pietro indignantly.
"Yes you are, Pietro!" she hollered, "You could not of tagged me that fast!"
"Nuh uh!" he retorted, "Just because I'm faster than you doesn't mean you have to whine about it."
"I wouldn't whine about it if you DIDN'T USE YOUR POWERS!" screamed Wanda.
"Fine we'll start over again," said Pietro, running a small hand through his silver white hair.
"No! You'll just use your powers again!" said Wanda as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"No! I won't! I promise!" promised Pietro.
"You promised last time!" she yelled, "How do I know you're just not lying again?"
"Because last time I crossed my fingers in my pocket, Dummy!" he exclaimed exasperatedly. He put both his small, white hands in front of him, the palms facing her, his skinny little fingers spread out as far apart as they can go, to show her he wouldn't lie again.
"But what if you cross your toes?" she asked, "How do I know you're not crossing your toes?"
He plopped down on his bottom, in the thick, green grass, pulled off his shoes and socks and wiggled his toes to show her.
Satisfied, Wanda said, "Now you got to promise again, without crossing anything!"
He stood up, his hands still in front of him, his toes wiggling, and he said solemnly, "I promise to you, my little twin sister Wanda Maximoff, that I will not use my powers in any way to win the game of 'Tag You're It!'"
Wanda wrinkled her nose, "I think you're telling the truth about your promise, but you are the younger one!"
"No way! I'm the boy! Boys are older!" he said loudly.
"That doesn't necessarily mean you are older," she retorted, "Besides, you can't be older, I'm taller."
"No! I'm taller! Boys are taller! And I am the boy here." He exclaimed.
"No! I'm taller, therefore I'm older," she explained, as though this information was enough.
She suddenly saw a blur, and not even a half a second later Pietro was right next to her, ordering her to stand up straight.
"This is pointless, Little Brother," she said as he compared their heights, "We both know I'm taller."
"We're exactly the same," he concluded. "Therefore, it cannot be decided yet who is older and who is not."
"Fine," she said, "Now let's play tag. On the count of three?"
"One.Two.Three!"
"Notit!"
"Not it! Oh, Pietro! You cheated again!" she wailed.
"I did not! I'm a naturally fast talker! You're just a slow talker!" he said, "Now, I get a three-second head start!" and he ran away as fast as his little legs could carry him (without using his powers, which was still pretty fast).
Wanda counted to three in her head and started running after her brother, determined to tag him this time.
If anyone were to look at these two children now, they would see a little girl with a yellow shirt on and light blue jeans, her black, downy soft hair flowing around behind her as she ran. They would see a little boy with unusually silvery-white hair, with a turquoise hooded sweatshirt and blue shorts, running around barefoot laughing gleefully as his sister chased him.
After awhile though Wanda started to get tired, and it showed as she was slowing down and breathing kind of hard. So Pietro slowed his running down so she could have a chance to tag him.
"Tag! You're.it.Pietro!" she laughed.
"No, lets stop playing," Little Pietro had no desire to be 'it'. Better quit when she's tired and won't protest.
Sitting down next to him, Wanda asked, "How come I don't have powers like you?"
Pondering this, Pietro took a few seconds to answer, "You'll get them soon. Then we'll have powers together!"
She smiled brightly, "Good!"
"Pietro?"
"Huh?"
"I love you,"
Turning his sparkling sapphire eyes to her, he said softly, "I love you too."
Wanda woke up with a start, her face beaded with sweat and her breath coming in haggard gasps. Looking toward the mirror she saw that she cracked it in her sleep.
"Great," she muttered.
Pondering her dream, she put her face in her hands and thought about it. She remembered it clearly. It was about her and Pietro. But why did she wake up so abruptly? Why did it seem like a nightmare instead of a pleasant dream? A pleasant memory?
Confused, she lifted herself off her bed and opened her bedroom door quietly. Tiptoeing through the dark hall, she stopped at a door that was ajar, the moonlight showing through it and spilling into a fraction of the hall.
Pushing the door silently she tiptoed quietly inside. Pietro was a very light sleeper. He always was.
Walking quietly toward his bed she saw that his body was covered with sweat and he kept rolling over to one side, then to the other, moaning, muttering in complete gibberish.
About to place a hand on his shoulder to wake him up, she froze when something understandable escaped his lips.
"No.Father.don't.take.away.I'll.help.her.Not.a.weakling." he muttered so quietly she had to strain to hear.
She bolted from the room just seconds before he sat up abruptly, gasping for air.
Now utterly confused, Wanda thought about what Pietro had let escape his mouth in his dreams.
Who did he want to help?
Who or what was taken away?
Who was the weakling?
She thought that he was talking about himself not being the weakling. It was probably that.
Stopping in the middle of the hall, clutching her head in both hands. She couldn't think. She was too tired. She needed rest.
But as she climbed back into her bed she wondered out loud, "What does it mean?"
Unfortunately for Wanda she kept dreaming that she was being taken away for the rest of the night. She didn't remember them afterwards.
Pietro got no more sleep that night. He went for a run.