Author's Note: Hey everyone! I hope everyone's doing well and still following me, lol. Thank you for the responses for the last chapter, and I hope to hear from even more people checking this story out ;). Take care!

Chapter 13

It's a loaded question, but one I'm used to. Metas new to the game ask me all the time. "How does a kid like you get mixed up in all this craziness?" The answer is easy, though. "Because I want to be Robin."

"Why? Yeah, Bruce seems like a decent guy, but if he's got something over you and he's making you feel like you owe it to him or something, it's fucked up. I mean, you obviously got some mad skills, man, but you still don't have any powers. Those bad guys you piss off, they can kill you. I mean what happens if you fall the wrong way, you can't fly! If a bomb goes off too close to you, you don't have super-speed to get out of the way. You don't have invisible force fields to protect you. You aren't super strong. You're just… a human doing things the police won't do, and they get paid, and they're all over 18! You don't even use a gun."

Pietro grips my knees. "I know you're not crazy, so why?"

I sigh and put my hands over his. "I have to, Tro. It's a calling. Some people teach, some people go on missions to Africa, some people preach, I save people. The police aren't enough. The FBI isn't enough."

Pietro's eyes bore into mine and he tilts his head. "Is it about Aunt Mary and Uncle John? Is it a revenge thing for you? Because normal kids don't just watch the news and jump up and say, 'I'm gonna put on a costume and fight crime'…and then actually do it."

Just gut me why don't you? I pull one of my hands off his and press it to my bubbling stomach at the mention of my parents. I blink and see the dangling lines, smell the popcorn and peanuts, and hear myself screaming.

"Yeah, it is about my parents, but it's not about revenge. The guy who did it is long dead anyway. Died of natural causes, even. Karma, I say." I really want him to understand, but looking into his cynical eyes, I don't know if I can do it. "I don't want that to happen to another kid, and I can't save everybody—" Hear that Wally? "—but the ones I can, might not have nightmares for the rest of their lives, like I will. And on the nights when I stop the bad guys and put them away, my nightmares aren't as real. It's like I get to watch the show, but I don't have to be part of it. I can't change the dream, but I can make it end before it gets bad." I don't have to see them fall; I don't have to hear the screaming. But I'll always smell the popcorn and peanuts and know what happens next.

Pietro is still frowning at me, but he lowers his eyes and pulls his hands off my knees and brings his knees to his chest. "Should I feel like you then?" His voice is quiet and flat and it's my turn to frown at him.

"My parents, my whole family got killed, by a hate group, for being who they are. I have nightmares every night. Nothing makes them easier, I just don't scream anymore, because Magneto punished me if I woke him up. I got trained like a dog. I even found out that Magneto had another kid, I had an older sister, but she got killed by a mutant hate group before I was born. They burned her up, just like they burned up Mama and Tata."

"I should have a calling, too. Hell, I even have powers, so what's my excuse? Why don't I want to go out and save people who don't give a shit about me? Or better yet, Magneto's cause… he wants to change the world and make it safe for mutants. I should want to help him. Making the world a better place for people who are different should help my nightmares, right? But yanno, even when I did help Magneto I still smelled charred flesh every night."

"I don't get you, Dickie. I don't get any of you heroes. The X-Men, The Avengers, The Justice League… at least with the bad guys there are perks. You steal it, you keep it. You got no good reputation to uphold, you got no public eye to appeal to. Once you're written off as bad, no one cares about you as a person."

"You're not written off, Tro, and plenty of people care about you as a person…"

"Name 2." He grins, but it's cold.

I sigh. "Me, number 1. And Wanda."

"Wanda doesn't give a shit. I told you…"

"Tro, she cannot hate you! You just need to talk…"

"She…tried…to…kill…me!" Pietro shouts. "The first time she saw me after getting outta the nut house, she tried to bring the house down on my head. When I tried to talk to her, she threatened me. When I betrayed her…" He shakes his head. "The nut house twisted her. She's not Wanda anymore. She's the Scarlet Witch, and she will destroy anybody who gets in her way to Magneto. She will use anybody to lure Magneto to her. She's not my sister, DG. She's just not."

The last part is said in a whisper, and he bows his head.

And what do I say? I wasn't there, I haven't seen Wanda. He could be right. I don't want him to be, but I've seen the darker side of things. People really can change so much that you can't recognize them. They really do go so crazy that they'd kill their families and friends and just not care.

I mean, I know Two-Face and I knew Harvey Dent.

I breathe and just stare at Pietro. He puts his face on his knees and is completely still. A still speedster, an oxymoron. Slowly, I get to my knees and move closer to him and slowly, I put my arms around him.

I got nothing to say, but as the old cliché goes, Actions speak louder than words.

(~*~)

I wake up with Pietro's arm across my face. I don't move; I lie flat on my back, staring at the shadow of what can only be my cousin's ulna over one eye, the bridge of my nose and my cheek. I should have told Alfie not to bother with the sofa. I got into bed, and Tro climbed right in after me. After a 20 second stare down, he rolled onto one side and I rolled onto the other. Well, I had thought, it's a big bed. Plenty of room for five, so two should be okay.

Wrong. I guess being in that little hospital bed back at Mount Justice restricted Tro's movements, but in a big bed… geez. The guy rolled all over the place. I'm surprised he didn't fall out of the bed. If it had been Jase, I'd have pushed him out of the bed, but I didn't have the heart to do that to Pietro. His life sucks, and the least I can do is let him have my bed. It doesn't make up for anything, it doesn't make anything better, but it's a bit of kindness. And for someone that really hasn't gotten much of that, it's a lot.

I gently slide his skinny arm off my face and move it to his side. He's lying with his arms and legs spread-eagle, pillow over his head, blankets tangled at his knees. His chest rises and falls peacefully, and I'm quiet as I slip out of bed and tuck my half of the blanket around him. I turn off my bedside alarm before it goes off and shuffle to the closet where my starched school uniforms are.

Alfie had let me know he wasn't going to come in and lay out my clothes because I have a guest, and that's fine. I can get my own clothes out anyway, he just likes to. He's been doing it since I was eight, just like he makes the pancake faces. Old habits die hard, but, you know, some old habits don't have to die at all if they make other people feel better when they do them. I'm not a baby anymore, but I still like the attention. It's nice, and Alfie… still wants me to be that baby.

Hell, he still wants all of us to be the babies he first met, Bruce included. Alfie still packs our lunches, and makes favorite desserts, and he covets the little ticks that we brought with us into his care and he incorporates them into his great book of daily procedures. He hates soda, but he always keeps a six pack of Mountain Dew in the pantry just for Jase who grew up on the stuff. He also keeps bakers' chocolate out for Bruce to nibble on (yuck), and he has a special jar of crunchy peanut butter just for me and Jase to put spoons in and eat right out of the jar.

I don't know what he does for Tim yet. I haven't seen anything special… and maybe that should worry me, because maybe Tim doesn't have ticks. I get the impression that he grew up with a stick up his ass. We'll fix that, though.

I drag a uniform off its hanger and trudge to the bathroom to get dressed and brush my teeth. The hair I'll have to wet again, before I can do anything with it. Half of it is matted to my forehead, the other half is a wavy mess of cowlicks.

My reflection is pale with bags under the eyes, but I turn the corners of that mouth up and flash some pearls. Hello, Crest Kid. Man, do we got some work to do.

Twenty minutes later, I'm fighting the hair and a cousin for privacy.

Pietro zips in, the shower's going and I swear he's in and out in a second. Then, he's beside me, bumping me over with his hip to make room for himself at the sink. Alfie put a toothbrush and supplies in there for him, and he makes short work of getting ready, only slowing down to let me see how easily he's getting his comb through his hair.

"Asshole." I fling some water off my comb at him and he grins.

I finally make the hair obey and get out some hair gel to stick it in place. "What are you doing up anyway?"

"Hungry." He's staring at himself in the mirror and playing with his devil horns, making them fall this way and that over his face. Seriously? He's one of those guys?

"Why'd you get all cleaned up? You can't go to school with me again. Does Bruce want to do something with you today?"

Pietro shrugs. "When I get up, I get ready. That's just how I do it. You never know if…"

…if you'll need to run soon. I know that's what he wants to say.

He plants his bum on the sink and swats my hands from my hair. "What the hell is this shit you're putting in your hair? It makes you look like a prep school kid."

"Um… I am a prep school kid." I raise an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well, you don't have to look like one." Next thing I know my head's in the sink and I've got cold water running over my face. "You'll thank me."

"Dammit… that's cold… gel's getting in my mouth!"

He ignores me and I feel his hands scrubbing my scalp. Then he fishes me out of the sink and the blow dryer's going. "No, that makes it…"

"Shaddap, I know what I'm doin'."

Minutes later I'm rocking a One Direction do that I know Jason's gonna give me hell about. I scowl at Pietro who's looking at his own hair again. "What's the butler guy usually make for breakfast?"

"Pancakes for me, everyone else gets what he feels like cooking," I say. "And his name's Alfred, Tro. Better learn it."

"Yeah, yeah, Alfred," Pietro says; then looks away from his reflection and back at me. "Hurry up, DG. I told you I'm hungry." His stomach growls as he talks and he rubs it. "See?"

"Then go eat."

He frowns, and looks down through his lashes for a minute. I stare at him; then sigh. "Tro, my family won't bite you."—Well, Tim and Alfred won't. Bruce and Jason are another story.

"I'll wait for you."

"Suit yourself." But being the marshmallow I am, I speed up the rest of the morning process, not missing Pietro's troubled look at my morning regiment of vitamins and prescription vomit pills.

We tromp down the stairs, Pietro holding my backpack, and into the dining hall where Alfie's set up breakfast. Smiley pancakes for me, eggs, bacon and toast for everyone else. I plop down in my usual seat across from Jason, and give him the finger when he smirks at my hair. Pietro sits next to me, adjacent from Tim. Bruce's spot is empty and there's no plate set.

"Where's Bruce?" I ask.

"Bat business," Jason says. He stuffs eggs in his mouth. "He's been gone since last night."

"Alfie tell you that?" I ask, pouring blueberry syrup on my happy pancakes.

"Yeah." Jason forks more eggs in his mouth and his eyes rove over to Pietro. "Where're you s'posta be goin'?"

"Nowhere." Pietro stabs a banana eye off my pancake and stuffs it in his mouth, then moves on to his own food. "Where are you supposed to be going?" He eyes Jason's sweatshirt and jeans.

"Poor kid school," Jason says, mouth full of bacon. "Academies don't take kids with records."

"Whatcha' got on your record?" Pietro asks, bacon, eggs and toast gone. He refills his plate, piling it high with eggs and toast, but skimps on the bacon.

"Shoplifting, fighting, vandalism, you know how it is," Jason says, his eyes narrowing. "What's on yours?"

"Don't know yet." Pietro loads his toast with strawberry jam. "Hope it makes me sound dangerous."

Tim huffs, and blushes when we all look at him.

"There's a warrant out for you," Tim says quickly. "It went out the night Dick broke…uh…"

I roll my eyes. "Go ahead and say it, Timmy. I broke him out of military custody."

"Man, if I did that my ass would be grass," Jason grumbles.

"Language, Master Jason!" comes from the kitchen.

Jason scowls, and lowers his voice to a whisper. "You musta' pulled the 'kidney card' to get your ass outta…"

"Master Jason, I can still hear you quite well and I have a particularly flavorful bar of soap in the kitchen reserved for you."

Jason winces and guzzles down his orange juice as Tim and I snicker.

"He's kidding, right?" Pietro asks.

My brothers and I shake our heads. Alfie never kids, and the Dirty Mouth Soap makes liver and onions seem appetizing. I've only tasted that soap a few times, but Jason eats it at least once a day. You would think he likes it.

The rest of breakfast is pretty sedate, well except for the part where I tried to stab Jason with my fork because he made a crack about my boy band hair. Alfred comes out twice with more jam and toast for Pietro and more milk for Jason and Tim. He pats my head when he sees that my plate is almost empty.

It feels nice, all of us sitting around the table eating and just chatting about dumb stuff. Once we move away from criminal records, we start talking about video games and classes we hate. Tim's pretty quiet, but he smiles in the right places, meaning he's listening.

A clock in the hallway near the dining hall chimes, and I check my watch. It's almost 7:30. "Hey guys, we need to…"

The lights flicker then go out.

"What the…" Jason cuts himself off.

"A fuse?" Tim asks.

A flashlight beam cuts through the dark, and Alfred enters the dining room. "I'm going to check the fuse box, young sirs. If you would please get your things together and go to the car, so we won't be too late."

"Yeah sure, Alfie." I take the extra flashlight he holds out to me and turn it on. "Come on, guys. Uh, Tro…"

Pietro shrugs. "I'll stay here."

I get up, and stop, tensing. Jason's gone rigid, too. I see his head whipping around and know he feels it, too. Someone's moving around in the house. Me, Tim, Alfred, Jason and Pietro are accounted for, and it can't be Bruce because he doesn't move like that.

I put a finger to my lips and shoot Jason the "bat signal" look that he shoots right back. Tim blinks between us, frowning and trying to read us, and I don't have time to give him direction. Jason and I swiftly and quietly rummage the drawers of the china cabinets and find the knives. I toss one to Tim, who catches it, wide-eyed, and nods. Armed, we circle the dining table, waiting. I position myself near Pietro, and Jason is near Alfie.

The lights flicker back on and Pietro yelps.

There's a girl, maybe sixteen, standing in the doorframe dressed in a tight, red jumpsuit and black boots with a heavy black overcoat. Her short black hair is dyed red under the bottom and she's wearing a sneer that puts all of Bruce's to shame.

How the hell did she get in here?

"I told you I'd find you again, Pietro."

I keep my eyes on the girl but, in the corner of my eye, see Pietro, fists clenched, standing off to my right.

"I told you I don't know where Father is and I mean it. Just leave me alone, Wanda!"

That's Wanda?

Her fingertips crackle with blue energy, and a dark smile curves her lips. "I was hoping you'd be difficult."

I try to move but can't, my body's frozen in place, paralyzed, surrounded by blue sparks. I look to see that everyone's surrounded by bolts of blue energy and standing as rigid as I am. Wanda walks forward, her gait slow and steady, and stops next to Pietro. She whispers something in his ear; then pulls a syringe from her pocket.

I barely get out a warning before she stabs it into his shoulder.

Author's Note: So, what's the verdict? Like it? Hate it? Don't care either way? Well, any way you liked it, let me know. Please review!