Peter was impressed with the the way that the door came off its hinges. He'd vibrated his way through doors before, and they had always come apart with a ton of splinters and a lot of effort. Magneto just flexed his fingers and it was over. Neat, nice.
To the scientist's credit, he knew what was coming, and he did try to run. Peter didn't blame him: if he'd persecuted a group of highly powerful people and two showed up at his door, he'd do the same.
The only difference was that Peter was a lot faster than the guy. He caught him before he managed to get into the next room. Peter yanked him back and slammed him into the nearest chair in the amount of time it took him to chomp down once on his gum.
"Hey, hey," Peter grinned, pulling the man's coat off and using it to tie his hands behind his back, "Is that any way to greet people?"
The man looked up at him in abject terror. The look suddenly made him uncomfortable, but before he could examine that feeling Magneto began speaking.
"Now then," said Magneto, "Dr. Killbrew, isn't it?"
The man directed his attention to Magneto and swallowed. Magneto smiled and closed the door behind him. Peter was relieved that he'd ignored the feeling and hadn't said much. They had already talked about how Magneto was going to be the one talking.
"Yes, I thought so," he said, "You've been rather busy, haven't you?"
Killbrew licked his lips nervously. Magneto pulled a folder out of his jacket that Peter hadn't known he had. His expression casual Magneto began flipping through printouts of what looked like X-rays. He had no clue.
Peter leaned up against the desk next to him. He could see Killbrew's eyes flick towards him when he did that, like he was trying to keep both of them within his range of sight. Not that that would do him much good.
"Tell me," Magneto said, "What do you know about the Weapon X program?"
Killbrew didn't say anything: just licked his lips again.
"Quicksilver," said Magneto, "Would you mind?"
He looked up at him and Peter had absolutely no idea what it was that Magneto wanted him to do. He saw Magneto raise his eyebrows impatiently, making a small gesture with his hand. Then it hit him: he was supposed to hit the guy.
Peter felt his mouth go dry. So this was the Brotherhood's version of a chat? He'd seen cop shows, and they didn't do stuff like this. Granted, a lot of those shows were just Get Smart reruns, but the concept remained the same.
You're not a cop you moron. You're Brotherhood, and you know this guy is a prick.
Steeling himself Peter grabbed the back of Killbrew's head and slammed it down onto the desk next to him. He did it quickly, putting the right amount of effort into it like he'd been taught. He didn't want him to go unconscious.
When Peter released him there was a trickle of blood going down Killbrew's nose. For some reason he was reminded of the nosebleed Lorna had gotten when Wanda tried to heal her. He watched the blood's path, entranced, before he tore his eyes away.
When he did he saw Magneto give him a look of approval.
"I will ask you again," Magneto said, "What do you know about the Weapon X program?"
"Please," coughed Killbrew, "I just retired-"
"Yes," Magneto agreed, "You did. But there are some people out there who might like to talk to you by the names of-"
He flicked through the papers.
"-David North, Wade Wilson, and Victor Creed to name a few," Magneto read.
Killbrew paled.
"Now, you could either talk to me, or I could call them," said Magneto, "They might have some questions for you, mostly concerning just what it was you did to them when they were on your operating table."
"They were just government property!" Killbrew said.
"Quicksilver."
Peter slammed Killbrew's face into the desk again. It was easier this time, mostly after what he'd said. Government property? No one was government property. He heard his nose crunch and Killbrew let out a cry. Blood began pooling onto the wood.
He turned from the sight and saw Magneto make another gesture. Pushing aside feelings of nausea, Peter ground Killbrew's face into the table. There were some more cries, and Peter got angrier. Why did he have to make so much noise? Why did Peter feel so sick when Magneto was obviously unaffected?
When he released Killbrew he noticed that some of the man's blood had gotten onto his hands and shirt.
"I left two months ago," Killbrew said, his voice choked, "There was some sort of mishap, I think. One of the subjects got away and there was this thing...they had to call in some people and it was getting too intense."
"I see," said Magneto.
He shut the folder.
"I would like you to tell me the names of everyone that you worked with," Magneto said, "And I would like the locations of all of your facilities, as well as any data that you could give me on any current attempts to develop anti-mutant weapons."
He took out a pencil and tossed it to Peter. Peter caught it, frowning.
"My friend will be writing everything down," he said.
Peter sighed and took a seat. He grabbed some paper from Killbrew's desk and saw that the blood smeared on the letterhead. He bit down on his gum so hard that he could feel his teeth grinding up against each other.
"Now, begin," Magneto said.
They sat there for around half an hour, with Peter writing as fast as he could. He got everything down, his hands cramping by the time they were done. He shoved the papers inside his jacket along with the pencil, trying to forget the past hour.
"Before we go, two more things," Magneto said.
He held up four fingers and began ticking them off as he mentioned a name.
"David North, Wade Wilson, Victor Creed, and some unnamed man that you apparently did preliminary research in augmenting with a rare metal," he said, "He's only referred to here as X, but he still counts."
He put his fingers down.
"You have four fillings," he said, "That's one for each. Fitting."
With a jerk of his hand Peter heard Killbrew scream. Peter forced himself to stay steady, forced himself not to try and put a hand on the wall to steady himself. Killbrew spit out four fillings along with a wad of blood and saliva.
"And now, for the last thing," Magneto said.
He crouched down so that he was eye level with Killbrew, a strange smile on his face.
"Quicksilver, that last scream will have attracted some attention," he said, "I'd like you to watch the door, but also pay close attention to what I'm doing."
His throat felt like sandpaper as Peter began looking around the room. Peter watched him pull out a silver coin from his pocket and turn it over in his hands.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked Killbrew.
Killbrew, blood still dribbling from his lips, didn't say anything.
"It's a German coin, specifically from the Nazi-era," he said, "When I was young, it was one of the first things that my ability just wouldn't work on. I keep it for special occasions."
He tilted his head and the coin began to thread its way through his finger.
"I...I didn't have anything to do with the Nazis," Killbrew managed.
"No, you didn't," agreed Magneto.
The coin stopped its trajectory.
"But what you did wasn't so far off," he said.
Magneto smiled.
"This is for Sean Cassidy," he said.
The coin moved with a speed that Peter would have envied if he didn't feel so disconnected. It shot through Killbrew's head and blood splattered onto him. Peter stared, at once entranced and disgusted and so, so lost.
The door burst open and two policemen came in. The world returned to him and Peter jerked his goggles over his eyes. He ran up to them, taking away their guns and pushing them to the floor.
He hit both their heads against the doorframe and took out their handcuffs, cuffing them together and trying desperately to forget what he had just witnessed. Was that what he was going to have to do from now on? Was this what life had become?
Peter got up just as Magneto pocketed the coin. He turned to Peter and made a motion. Peter followed him numbly, for once in his life glad that he was going slow. If he went any faster he knew that he would just fall over.
He got into the car and, for a few moments, they drove in silence.
"Say what you want to say," Magneto said.
His tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth, and the gum there felt as though it were lead.
"I will not be angry," Magneto said calmly, "But I have the feeling that you want to say something."
"You murdered him," said Peter.
The words came out of nowhere, and Magneto shook his head.
"Murder is what you do to higher forms of life Quicksilver," he said, "What I did was put down a rabid dog."
"He said he'd quit..." Peter mumbled.
"And I'm supposed to trust him when he says that?" asked Magneto, "Quicksilver, what you just saw was a necessity. I can't allow someone like that to continue on, can't risk that. It's a messy business, but it's necessary to our survival."
He shook his head again.
"No matter what people try to tell you, no new world was ever built by mercy," he said, "The creation of something new, something good, is born from fire and blood. Your nation was built when people rose up violently against their oppressors. That is what we are doing now. This is what we deal in, what we have to do."
Peter looked blankly at him, trying to focus.
"My country?" he asked, his voice thin, "Where are you from?"
"Poland," Magneto said.
Peter blinked a few times, still trying to get his head in order.
"You just...but did it have to be like that?" he said.
Magneto sighed.
"You are young," he said, "There is so much you don't understand."
He stopped the car. Once he'd parked he turned to Peter and raised one of his arms. The sleeve fell away and Peter saw a row of numbers tattooed there. Peter had never been good in history class, but he knew exactly what those meant.
"This is what happens when people realize that you are different," he said, "And it can be the smallest of things."
Peter felt his thoughts clear a little. This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? He'd wanted the ability to protect who and what he was. He'd never thought about what he'd have to do in order for that to happen though.
Now, not only was he being faced with that, but he was being faced with the consequences of failure.
"I need you to understand this," Magneto said.
Looking down, Peter swallowed his gum and tried to think. So much of what Magneto said made sense. What did he think a revolution would include? Just more thievery? No, this was the dirty work, the things that most people were too scared to talk about in history books.
He knew that he had a decision in front of him, a crossroads. He could go back to the headquarters, take his sisters and leave, or he could stay and fight. Peter looked at Magneto, at the man he had once put so much faith in.
Now, before doing so again, he had to know one thing.
"Who's Sean Cassidy?"
Magneto put his arm down.
"A young mutant I knew once," he said, "He and some of his friends...they were an idealistic lot. There was a gunman threatening a group of children. He moved to save them, he was shot three times in the chest. Died almost instantly."
He grimaced.
"Before his friends could collect the body Killbrew's colleagues took it, brought it to his lab, and he dissected it," Magneto said, "I believe there are still...samples somewhere."
His voice lowered.
"It was just before his seventeenth birthday," he said.
Suddenly everything snapped into focus. Peter could feel understanding flow through him, and he sat up a little straighter in his seat. So much made sense now.
"Right," he said.
He pulled his goggles down in front of his eyes.
"Where to next?" he asked.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Magneto smile.