Title: I Remember Romania

Genre: X men Evolution

Pairing: None

Summary: Pietro remembers Romania, amongst other things. Slash warning

Random dedication of the day is to....: Childrenwithblades. Because...well, I can. :D

For those of us who can't remember; anything worth knowing is filed away in our minds for later use.

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I remember Romania.

I remember the hills, the trees, the villages.

I remember when Wanda and I were children, not even three, and our foster parents, the Roma we lived with, told us we were not theirs. I remember my heart breaking when my sister began to cry, and I remember the looks on the faces of the people around us as I took my sister and went home.

I remember Erik. Not Magneto, but Erik, the father who loved us, only wanting the best for his children. The father who searched for his children after seven years; who needed to be assured we were still alive.

And I remember Magneto. How can I not, when every day I live with the memory of how he torn Wanda and I apart? I remember his barking voice, and his harsh upbringings, in training I had yet been able to comprehend. I remember the hate in his voice, the loath in his eyes, when ever he spoke or looked at me; I was a failure at best to him in those last days.

I also remember Wanda.

I remember how she would dance for spare change in the center of the village when we were young, how she would sing and laugh and be a normal child. I remember the exact moment that all changed; when I became the enemy and father became the devil.

I wish I didn't remember, but there's nothing I can do to stop these memories from slipping past my vast mental block. I can not stress how much of my seventeen years of life I wish I could just forget.

I remember Evan.

I remember when he and I were friends, when we spent every Saturday playing basketball at the community center and spent Friday nights at the movies. I remember sleep over's and fights, late night conversations and scrapes and bruises. I remember the first time we met; it was the first day I moved in with the Maximoff's. He offered to show me around; and even though I was a year old, I was still slightly slimmer, a little shorter, and just a bit shyer then he was.

I remember when I grew taller then him. It was on my tenth birthday that we measured ourselves on the old oak tree beside the park; he was a whole inch shorter, and I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because I was having a good time. I remember laughing with Evan...it happened a lot.

I also remember the day we stopped being friends. It was a sunny day, nothing too abnormal. I told him I might have to move soon, because the Maximoff's had been accepted to a job up in Canada. Evan had been angry; we'd been friends for some time, and he was hurt that I'd just give in like that.

I remember his last words to me as a friend.

"I will never forgive you."

I will never forgive myself, because what I did, it was unforgivable. I told him I hated him, and it was a lie; I loved Evan more then I love myself. And I let him go; because if you love something, you set it free. And if it never returns, it was never yours to begin with, right?

I remember my tears, the ones I cried every night for a month, until I ran out of tears. I've done it before; run out of tears crying. It's nothing new. But I remember that night, because that was the night I realized that I loved Evan.

I remember when my mutation appeared.

I was eleven, and already fast for my age; I couldn't remember what had happened if you asked me right after the incident, but it was Evan who caused it. He and his skater friends, who never liked me to begin with, began to pick on me. I was always strong, mentally, and I wouldn't have let it get to me, had it been anyone but Evan who lead the taunts.

I remember running.

I ran, and before I knew it, I was at my house, seventeen miles from the school. I didn't know how I got there; I didn't understand. After awhile, the spouts of speed became longer and easier to control; and I was in control of my own world.

I remember I felt power living in that world. Where no one could touch me, and nothing was beyond my reach. I was king, and I loved it.

I remember when my father came back. I hated him; hated how he had treated Wanda and then treated me. But I let him bring me to this place, to the Brotherhood, where I made friends, and then enemies, and then friends again.

I remember Todd.

I remember the first time I ever truly talked to Todd. He'd been upset, something that Duncan Mathews had said or done, and he had been holing up in his room all day. I went to see him, to ask if he wanted anything. And I remember the look on his face; like no one had ever cared for him before. And I remember feeling my heart go out for him, my newly appointed little brother.

And I remember Lance.

How could I not, when every hour I am taunted by his entire being, teased by his existence? Because I am not Kitty; I can not measure up to her. But I remember Lance; with his soft voice and his warm touch. I remember the first time I saw him; the first time I fell for him.

I remember how he missed me while I had gone with my father. I had explained to him why; he knew my reasoning. I only did anything for the good of the Brotherhood; I was a 'Hood first and foremost. I remember how he hugged me and told me, weeks later, that he had wanted to beat my head in with a pole for leaving.

I remember that one night, when he sat with me for six hours straight after I had a nightmare. I remember it so well, because he was so close, and it wasn't so long ago. He held me and rocked me, telling me it would be alright. And I believe him, I would believe him if he told me I could breath underwater. I trust him so much. Love him so much.

But you know what I remember most right now?

I remember Romania.

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Rant: I remember wanting to go to bed sometime tonight...But I don't see THAT happening. Gah, Pietro's eating my brain. Flames will be used to give Pietro a warm place to sleep...and I love reviews, they make me not want to give up writing. Ooh...head...hurts. Who says I give Pietro a concussion in my next fic? Hmm? He deserves it if I have one. . I might make a little series of this, if I get enough good feedback. Feed my back, people.