A/N: Well, I know this was the hardest part for me to write, because my brain wasn't bursting with ideas as it was the other parts. So, for the most part I'm winging it, and I hope it turns out. I made sure it was a certain length before I posted, so that the story isn't lop-sided and unequal with character's pieces.

Oh yeah, thanks to SpeedDemonRox for actually reviewing.

Be forewarned, these next 2 chapters will contain disturbing stuff, such as violence, drugs, sexual evils, and other stuff that just pisses certain people off. Only rated T because it's not extremely graphic. Oh hell, I'm scared now, I'm gonna change the rating...just to be safe. I'd say 'enjoy' but this stuff isn't exactly enjoyable. Read on.

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The darkness was suffocating. It pressed in from all sides, clinging to it's victim and dragging them down into the depths of infinity. Pietro opened his eyes, and only perceived this blackness. There was nothing, just black, all around. Panicked, he fought to right himself; but he couldn't tell if he was moving or not. He ceased his flailing and just focused on breathing. The air was thick and hot. Starting to sweat, Pietro tried to recall what had happened to bring him here, to this abyss. 'What was it...?' he thought drowsily. '...A firefly...' was all he could remember that seemed to make sense. 'Wanda wouldn't be able to do this...would she?'

Maybe she had. After all, how could a tiny firefly do all this? 'No...she wouldn't...that firefly was alive on the brink of winter, it couldn't have been just a bug...' Of this he was certain. Yes, that firefly was some other kind of entity. 'So...am I dead? Is this purgatory?' He glanced around in the nothingness and took in the feelings he had about him. From what he could tell, he was flying...no, falling, face first, downward. 'How do I get out of here...?'

All of sudden, the air turned cold. Not as cold as the boarding house had been, but almost. Pietro's moist skin quickly chilled, making him hug himself and shudder in a vain attempt to be warm. 'I hope I'm dreaming...God, I hope I'm dreaming...' He felt something against his back; something hard. His sense of up and down returned slowly, and Pietro realized that he was lying down on this hard object. He reached down to touch this object with his fingers; or he tried to. His arms wouldn't move from where they were, wrapped about him.

'Whats going on?! Why can't I move?!' Pietro thrashed around, trying to get his arms to move. Then he heard voices. The voices of several people, all male, and aged; they didn't sound so far away. They seemed to echo, like they were in a tunnel or something. He couldn't make them out though, the sound was all fuzzy. Crying out for help, the almost immobile Pietro continued his desperate attempts at freeing himself from whatever bonds had somehow been placed upon him. He tried to kick, but his legs wouldn't move now either.

"Maybe we need more people...It sounds like she's having a fit." a voice came through clear now.

"She's a child, she can't be that hard to handle!" a second one rang out. This was followed by hurried muttering.

Slowly, the blackness peeled away, and Pietro's situation became visible to him. He was in a very small stone room, on what was supposed to be a bed. There was a sink in the opposite wall, and a steel door in the lower corner. He could see the top of someone's head through the narrow window the door had. Finally looking at himself, Pietro realized why he couldn't move. He was bound to the bed with thick leather straps, and he had a straight jacket on.

'How'd I get like this?!' Going back into a panic, Pietro squirmed around some more. 'I have to get out of this! I have to get out of here!' His only relief was that when his feet hit the floor, those people, whoever they were, would never catch him. He'd get out before they even knew what was going on. Feeling the jacket's grip on his right arm loosening, Pietro kept up his flailing, despite the strap buckles that were occasionally stabbing him. The door to the room opened, and a man in a lab coat entered. He looked rather self important in the speed demon's opinion, as if he were one to talk.

"And how are we this morning Wanda?" The geek asked in a very casual tone, which didn't help Pietro's mood any.

"Well, I'm pissed off, cold, and hungry Mr. Nerd King! Now let me the fuck off this damn torture device you call a bed!" Pietro spat. He noticed that the voice which escaped him was not his own. It was a tiny voice, way too high pitched for a teenaged boy. Hell, it was too high pitched for a teen, period.

"Awful language for a young lady to have, don't you think?" the man replied with a very annoying 'naughty naughty' tone that you used with children. Something else sank into Pietro's head through his rage then.

"Did you call me Wanda?"

"Well thats your name isn't it?" More realization dawned on the now minute captive, who shook his head furiously.

"No! I'm not Wanda, I'm Pietro!" The man sighed in response.

"Perhaps you wish you were, but thats just not the case." Removing a hypodermic needle from his coat, the now rather frightening man turned to his colleagues out in the hall. "She's trying to convince me that she's her brother." This evoked muffled laughter from the men outside. "I doubt she'll present much threat. As long as she can't move her hands, she's harmless." Two other men in lab coats entered. The man then turned to Pietro. "Now then, if you be a good girl and cooperate, we'll only have to do this once."

Pietro was now suffering from a cold sweat. 'This is a dream, this is a dream...I have to wake up!' He resumed his desperate struggles against his bonds. As his attacker approached, he managed to get his right arm free of the straight jacket. Wanting to just get something between the two of them, Pietro stuck his hand out at the white clad man.

"Stay away from me!"

A sound that could only be described as 'gooey' was heard, and something hot and wet hit Pietro's outstretched hand. There were resounding screams from the men and the sound of someone hitting the floor. Terrified, Pietro dared to look around his little hand. The man with the needle was on the floor, with his eyes melted right out of his head. The other two had fled, and the substance coating his hand was fresh blood and perhaps, eyeball fluid.

A wave of nausea hit Pietro hard, and he fought to hold his stomach still as he tried to get free enough to lean over the side of the bed at least. He never got to though, as hurried foot steps announced the return of the threat to his existence. Several men quickly held him still while his right arm was returned to it's place on the jacket. They then proceeded to throw the helpless Pietro on the floor and beat him. It was insane. This couldn't be happening. A gang of grown men wouldn't just stand around and beat the life out of a defenseless child, would they?

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt him! It was an accident!" Pietro pleaded with the mob, just before he caught a foot in the mouth. He swore he felt teeth leave his jaw. He retched and emptied his stomach's contents all over the cold stone floor, and used all the strength he had left to not get his face rubbed in it. All he could taste now was blood and vomit.

Laying on the floor in utter despair, Pietro could do nothing but pray to a god that he didn't even believe in that this wasn't real. It felt real. It felt so real. But why was he here?

'This isn't my place; I'm not supposed to be here. This is Wanda's...past? This is Wanda's past! This is a memory of hers! But why am I in it? Why am I in her place...?' Finally, the feelings faded, as did the sounds, and the images. Pietro was back in the grasping darkness. He felt so sick...and afraid...and...guilty... 'Was that the kind of shit that Wanda went through in that place, day after day?' He shuddered. 'Wanda...you were right when you said that I had no idea what it was like...'

He suddenly was able to tell up from down again. He felt he was standing upright, on something flat and solid; the floor, he supposed. Doing a quick check for any limited movement, he thankfully found none. Then the sounds came into focus. The pained cries of a little girl filled his ears, causing him to cover them firmly. 'I don't wanna see more of this shit! Once was enough!' The images came into focus, and Pietro beheld his child sister tied to an operating table, in tears.

The room was very sterile looking; completely white, and every tool shiny. It was fairly big compared to the cell from before. The doctors that surrounded Wanda were sticking something large and metallic into her lower back. It sounded like a drill. Blood was all over the place, and she looked very pale. 'What the fuck are they doing to her?!'

Pietro ran over to the table and attempted to pull the doctors away, but of course he couldn't. This was a memory. It had already happened. He couldn't change anything. Everything he tried to touch, he simply passed through. He was like a ghost. 'I'm sorry Wanda...' He slumped to the floor in defeat. 'I thought I had it bad...but you had it worse...so much worse...'

Pietro tried to ignore the scene before him as best he could. Otherwise it would've driven him mad. After a while, the screams of his twin tapered down to meek, tired sobs. He dared to look up, slowly. The doctors were now cleaning up and sealing several tubes full of this bloody, spongey looking substance. 'Bone marrow...' The depressed speed demon concluded. He'd read about it in school, he knew it was supposed to hurt like fuck. He then wondered why they wouldn't just sedate you for something like that.

The memory faded out, as the previous one had done; feeling, sound, images. The exact same way it came in. Back in the darkness, Pietro hoped once more that it was over. He couldn't bear such images in his mind, especially after some of the things he'd done to Wanda. 'I can't stand seeing them using her like a lab rat...' But no sooner had he finished that thought than a another memory began to materialize.

This time he was in a room almost exactly like the operating room, but the table was propped up and the whole place was almost totally filled with a big old machine, for the room itself was rather small. Wanda was strapped to the table on her back this time; and she was somewhat older. She no longer had the innocent fear on her face; her expression was just blank. But in her eyes Pietro could see a festering bitterness and anger that would only amplify with years to come. She made no attempts to escape, no request for mercy; she just sat still and waited for the pain that was likely to come. Pietro could only do the same, from his end.

Yet another guy in a lab coat entered. They all looked like fucking clones. He didn't say a word, just stuck some kind of rubber bit into Wanda's mouth, so that she wouldn't bite her tongue. Then he picked up a strange device that looked almost like a headset, which was plugged into the machine that resided nearby. He placed it on her head, so that the end pieces were rested firmly at her temples. 'I hope thats not going to jab anything into her head...' came Pietro's faint wish.

In expectation, Wanda closed her eyes; but not tightly. She calmly resigned herself to her fate. The lab coat turned a dial on what looked like a big retro car radio, causing it to utter a faint series of beeps. He then promptly pushed a button on the same device, and there was a crackle, similar to what one would hear upon receiving a shock, only much louder than the norm. This immediately sent Wanda into intense convulsions, her jaw clenched tightly on the bit as blood leaked from her nose and mouth.

Pietro turned away, trying not to let his waterworks get started. 'I had to have been wrong before...' he told himself. 'This is some kind of nightmare...it can't really be Wanda's memories...'

The memory faded away, and he was in the blackness yet again. Rubbing his stinging eyes, he sighed and waited for the next torture scene to appear. He hadn't felt this helpless and trapped since... '...since Magneto sent Wanda away...' As if on cue, another, perhaps the worst memory he would see, began to come.

The sound of Wanda screaming obscenities and struggling fell upon Pietro's ears now. As the images came, he recognized the dingy cell that had belonged to his sister. She was apparently not much different in age from the present, and she was in her straight jacket as always. She was trying to keep yet another lab coat guy away from her, but was losing the battle. The lab coat threw her down on her bunk and held her there, seeming to be used to fighting with her.

"Don't bother fighting with me, you little bitch." he muttered, his voice sounding not quite normal. "Did you think I'd forgotten how you took my eyes from me, years ago?"

Pietro shuddered. It was that guy; obviously he still didn't know what 'accident' meant. 'He shouldn't have been terrorizing a little girl anyways, the stupid prick...' he thought angrily.

"Luckily, through the wonder of technology, I have my vision back."

"Oh, you want a fucking medal? Fuck off before I melt something else off you!" Wanda unfortunately didn't sound as confident as she was trying to appear. The lab coat just snickered.

"Tonight, I'm going to take something precious from you that you can never get back."

'No...don't do what I think you're going to do...just don't...' Pietro's eyes began to sting with tears again as he saw the lab coat begin to remove his pants. The speed demon turned away and covered his ears so he didn't have to hear the terrible sounds, but they somehow came in clear anyway. He let the tears flow freely now.

'God...why couldn't she at least have been spared that? Why couldn't I be the only one that had to go through that shit? No wonder I so easily accepted that she was crazy when she got out...Anyone who had to go through that...all the time...would go crazy...' The sounds just seemed to get louder by the passing second, and Pietro finally snapped.

"STOP!" he shrieked in complete despair, punching the cell wall with all his might.

The sounds around him abruptly ceased. Looking at his fist through the shield of tears, Pietro saw that the wall, no, the whole scene, had cracked like fine glass. The cracks spread throughout, making light crunching noises, until eventually the whole memory shattered, sending Pietro plunging back into the dark abyss.

He just felt that he couldn't stop crying now. Not after all of that. It just didn't seem like it'd ever stop either. Was that his fate now? To stay here for eternity, seeing a million and one reasons why he should've had more faith in his own sister? 'No way out...not even a way to kill myself...' That brought him back to his first thoughts upon entering this place. Maybe he was really dead, and this was his own hell. He hadn't thought he had been bad enough to deserve hell, but he was probably wrong. He shouldn't have done anything for Magneto, he should've told him where to go, he should've done what he really wanted to do; he should've sided with Wanda and killed the bastard. Or at least, let her kill him.

But what if he had survived? Then he just would've just come beat him within an inch of his life, maybe even kill him in a rage. Pietro wouldn't put it past him. He'd kill his own son and not think twice. 'Bastard...I had my own life to worry about, why couldn't you just leave me alone...?' Another wave of tears came up to replace the old. 'If only I could get out of here...I'd do things different, I'd try, really I would...' He needed to get out of here somehow; if only to see Wanda once more. Just once, so he could say he was sorry, even though she wouldn't know what he was apologizing for.

"I want to get out of here..." he sobbed to the blackness, or whatever being may hear his pleas. "I want to see Wanda...I have to see Wanda..." The dark only seemed thicker, heavier, as if somehow it was mocking his despair. "WANDA!" he cried at the top of his lungs. Perhaps, by some miracle, she would hear...

Silence. Nothing. Just the sound of his sobs.

"Pietro?"

The sobbing speed demon paused. He no longer felt he was falling. Was he just hearing things? Was it another memory come to torment him?

"Pietro..." the voice came again. It was Wanda's; soft, and full of worry.

A light suddenly shone in the distance. It was bright, like a star, and colored a deep scarlet.

"W-Wanda...?" Pietro murmured in disbelief. 'She heard me?' It was a miracle.

Feeling solid ground under his feet now, Pietro took off towards the distant light. It was far away, but it wouldn't take long to get to it; not for him.

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And there you go. I tried my best, I hope it pleased. I do have high hopes for this fic, considering the effort I'm putting in. I almost always get into fandoms late, ugh. I have lots of ideas for the next chapter, so that one should be even better! I'm going to take a break from the fic for a few days though, because all I've been doing for four days straight is this. I might work on it on Halloween, since I really have nothing to do. Sad, huh?

I had lots of possible allusions in this bit; how many did you pick up? I'm into it, so I guess I'll list a few big ones here. My allusions and inspirations are as follows:

Inspirations:

The coolness of fireflies (they blink!)

The mystery of purgatory (endless dark...)

One flew over the cuckoo's nest (brain shock)

X-men evolution (of course!)

The evil dead (the eye smoothie)

Allusions:

Other parts of this story (most to come)

House of M (Mags killing Pietro in a rage)

The secret window (the memory shattering)

Wanda's codename (the scarlet light)

Well, those were the intentional ones. There could be more, ya never know.

Once again, if you've come this far, and you like this story review please. With the amount of time and effort I put in, if I don't get reviews, it gets really discouraging. I mean, why waste time writing stories for people who can't be bothered to type a couple sentences as thanks? Don't mean to be cynical, but...

Thanks for reading, keep an eye out for Wanda's half of the Memory Purgatory!