The day had finally come for Peter to go back to the institute. It had been a good visit back to the little subdivision where he grew up, and he had ended up staying longer than he originally planned. But now he couldn't push back the inevitable anymore. His friends Kurt and Scott drove up to his place that morning, ready to help him move out. The first time Peter came to the mansion, he hadn't anticipated on staying, so this visit back home was also a chance for him to take a few things back to the institute with him. Both his friends commented on how nice his house was and how successful his mom must have been for a single mother to afford all of it.
As usual, Peter's mom was too apathetic to bother seeing his friends, and his little sister, Lorna, was preoccupied with Saturday morning cartoons. At least he didn't have to put up with any obnoxious questions from family about his friends' sunglasses and blue skin. Peter directed them to the basement, telling them he'd be right down with the boxes.
"Wow, Peter's got a nice setup for himself here," Scott admired the basement.
Kurt hadn't expected it to be that nice either. He spotted the coffee table at the far end of the room where an array of headphone boxes and papers laid. He walked over to it and found one of his letters amidst the clutter. It had been opened and looked like it had been read more than once. Kurt smiled and sat down on the edge of Peter's bed, rereading the letter to himself. Meanwhile, Peter was zipping around the garage, pulling out a few unused boxes. He suddenly stopped midway and began to wonder if he was forgetting something. He couldn't put his finger on it but…oh wait! Kurt and Scott probably hadn't eaten breakfast!
Zooming to the kitchen, he began to organize some Pop Tarts on a plate. He ran on sugar, so he didn't have anything too healthy to eat in his cupboards. As he finished organizing the snacks, he slowed down again. He still felt like he was forgetting something…If it wasn't breakfast, what was it?
It was then that I woke up. I could hear some faint music playing and someone sitting on the other side of the bed. I smiled to myself, thinking it was Peter. I looked at my bandaged hands and remembered how kind he had been the night before. Slowly, I emerged from the amass of pillows and blankets, blinking the sleepiness from my eyes.
"Hey, Peter, what time is—AAAH!" I stopped mid-sentence, letting out a shriek.
I had expected to see a devilishly handsome Maximoff, not…well, not a blue person! The blue guy let out a startled yell himself then BAMF! He disappeared in a cloud of dark blue smoke. He reappeared on the other side of the basement next to another guy I hadn't noticed. This one had short, brown hair and wore some killer shades. As I stared at them in shock and confusion, trying to catch my breath, I began to understand.
"W…Wait," I stammered, "Are you that blue friend Peter talks about?"
"He…talks about me?" the blue guy asked sheepishly, peering at me from behind the sunglasses friend.
He had a thick, German accent surprisingly. Then out of nowhere, nyoom! Peter showed up in a flash, a startled expression on his face. At least he remembered what he had forgotten.
"Oh, uh…" he stuttered nervously.
His friends were seeing me—some random girl—in Peter's bed wearing one of his T-shirts. Of course it looked wrong.
"This is Robin," he said awkwardly, "Robin, this is—urm—Kurt and Scott. I've mentioned them a few times."
"Hallo," Kurt gave a shy wave.
An uncomfortable pause followed before Peter spoke up, "You know, why don't you two go upstairs? Uh, I dunno if you've eaten yet, but I've got some food up there."
Peter herded them up the stairs, Scott snickering to himself and Kurt looking like he had done something wrong. Once they were gone, I facepalmed and let out an irritated groan.
"Sorry about that," Peter grimaced.
"What are they doing here?" I asked.
"Helpin' me move out," he shrugged.
I felt my heart sink at the reminder. The night before was over and it was time to face reality.
"Oh…right…" I mumbled.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked.
I reached up and poked at my black eye, cringing a bit at the dull pain that followed. The swelling had gone down and it didn't hurt as much as it had before. I started to pick at the bandages when Peter sped over and stopped me.
"Ah, you better keep those on a little longer," he said.
"But they don't hurt anymore," I replied.
"Just keep 'em on, trust me," he shrugged, "Sorry for not waking you up. I thought I'd let you sleep in, but then I kinda forgot you were down here when Kurt and Scott showed up. Heh, I think you gave poor Kurt a heart attack."
"Yeah…" I mumbled.
"I'm gonna go upstairs with them," he gestured over to the stairs, "You just…get out of bed, I guess."
As Peter tromped up the stairs, he let out a sigh; that sure was an ordeal. Scott had already helped himself to one of the Pop-tarts while Kurt looked at them suspiciously.
"So," Scott smirked, "That's why you didn't come back sooner,"
"Yeah, well—"
"Got yourself a girl," Scott finished.
"Uh—no!" Peter exclaimed, "We're just friends!"
"Uh-huh," Scott nodded, "I could tell since she was in your bed with her clothes on your floor."
Peter facepalmed, letting his hand drag through his hair in an exasperated manner. Of course Scott would read the situation like that.
"I mean, I stayed longer so I could hang out with her," he admitted, "But we're just friends, that's it! We didn't…I mean, you know…"
Suddenly, Kurt spoke up, "She vas hurt. Is she ok?"
He was probably talking about my bruised eye. Peter felt a little relieved that at least Kurt wasn't siding with Scott.
"She…Well, she had some trouble at home last night," Peter said awkwardly, shifting his feet, "So she came over to my place to lay low—and nothing weird happened!"
That got Scott to shut up and drop his shit-eating grin. First mention of domestic violence and he threw all notions of a relationship out the window. But then I had to emerge from the basement at just that moment, running my fingers through my tangled hair. I wore the same jeans I had from yesterday but this time wore a Rush T-shirt.
"Hey, do you mind if I borrow another T-shirt?" I asked casually, "I mean, you let me borrow one last night, so I kinda figured…"
My voice trailed off when I saw his friends at the kitchen table. They were both looking right at me and I could tell they had all been talking about me, too.
"For the record, I didn't sleep with him last night," I said quickly.
"Th-they know," Peter stammered.
"Good…"
"Uh, I-I'm sorry for vaking you up," Kurt said with a nod.
"Oh, it's cool," I waved my hand dismissively, "It's Peter's fault for not waking me up in the first place."
"Yeah, but you didn't have to scream so loud," Peter retorted.
"I…" I stammered, "I just…did not expect to wake up to someone so—er—unique. I mean if I had seen him under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have—you know what, I sound awful saying this. To put it straight—"
Kurt put up a three-fingered hand, saying with a smile, "It's ok, I'm used to it,"
"Right, so who wants to help me move out?" Peter stepped in.
We spent the rest of the morning packing everything from vinyls to hoards of junkfood into boxes for Peter. Though, I soon realized why he called Kurt and Scott down to help him. Peter packed everything in under a minute, but there was no way that skinny boy was carrying them up the stairs and out the front door, speed or no speed! So he had Kurt teleport them out to the car and Scott haul the rest up the stairs the old fashioned way. When the last box had been taken up, I leaned against the basement wall and hugged my sides.
I could already imagine what Jordan would say to me when I got home. "You were out all night, that's so irresponsible! You can't just run off without a word and expect…" Blah, blah, blah. Plus, he'd see my bandaged hands and make the connection that I had gone to Peter's house which would just get me in even more trouble.
"I don't wanna go home," I mumbled, the words slipping out suddenly.
"What?" Peter glanced over at me.
"I'm not going home," I said more firmly, "If I do, it'll be just more of the same."
"Well, I'll visit you when I…"
His voice trailed off when I cast him a desperate look. My blackeye made me look all the more needy to him. If I did go home, I'd hear more shit from Jordan and then be shut up in my room until my dad got home. I hadn't seen my dad in almost a year, but I couldn't imagine he'd be happy to see me considering my circumstances.
"Or…uh," Peter adjusted the goggles on his head, "You could—I dunno—you could come with me?"
"Yes please," I moped, dropping my head.
"Ah, it's fine," he chuckled, ruffling my hair.
"Wait," I swatted his hand away, "Aren't I not allowed at the institute? I mean, it's for mutants, so wouldn't they not like a human?"
"Pft," Peter scoffed, "The Professor's a pretty cool guy. I doubt he'd turn you away just cuz you're a human. Besides, the guy owes me a few favors. I'm on his good side,"
"You?" I asked skeptically, "You're a teacher's good side?"
"Yeah, of course!" he grinned.
"Uh-huh. Well I guess we'll see how this goes," I sighed, peeling myself from the wall.
Peter's friends seemed a little confused that I was tagging along. Maximoff just said that I wanted to get away from home for a bit, which I guess was the truth; though it felt more like running away. Scott just kept giving Peter a suggestive eyebrow waggle and a snicker. Bringing a girl along with him to the institute probably looked that way, but Peter just rolled his eyes. I sat in the backseat with Kurt where I still couldn't help but feel a little awkward. He had seen me roll out bed like a drowsy slug and then scream in his face. Meanwhile Peter was beginning to look very irked at Scott who kept giving him that same, suggestive smirk. So the car ride to the institute was very quiet. Finally, Kurt decided to try and be polite and create some conversation.
"So, Robin," he said, "How did you and Peter meet?"
"Shoplifting."
"The park."
We answered at the same time, our very different answers clashing against one another. It got us a puzzled glance from Scott and Kurt. Peter turned around from the passenger seat, giving me a wide-eyed stare like he was trying to tell me to shut up and let him tell the story. I just shrugged, unsure of what the big deal was.
"I mean, sort of," I said, "He took me to the park after we met, but he met me in a music store."
"Oh. Vhat music do you like?" Kurt asked.
"Oh no, I wasn't there for music," I giggled, "I was there for those new Talga model headphones."
"Ah yes!" he nodded, "I've seen zose!"
"Yeah, I was trying to steal a pair, buuuut I sorta got caught," I explained.
At this point, Peter let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to the front windshield.
"Peter saw me in trouble and sped me out, though," I grinned, "And we've been friends ever since!"
Kurt gave me a concerned look, "So…do you steal often?"
"Yeah, I'm a kleptomaniac," I nodded, "So's Peter. We got into all kinds of mischief while he was here!"
Suddenly, Scott started to laugh from the front seat, punching Peter in the arm.
"C'mon dude!" he chortled, "I thought you said you 'dialed back' on that stuff!"
"Apparently not," Peter grumbled.
Scott just continued to laugh and I realized I probably should have let Peter make up his own story. Looks like he wanted his friends to think he had "grown up" a little. The rest of the ride was very quiet. I had only met Peter's first two friends and I had already gotten off on the wrong foot with them.
AN: Thank you so much to Pfannkuchen07 for their super sweet comment~ I'm sorry this chapter took a little longer than usual, but I'm on vacation at the moment, and I will continue to be for a few more weeks. So, updates will be slower than normal. But thank you for bearing with me and please leave a review if you have the time ^^