A/N: Hi guys! Miss me? Really sorry for the loooong wait, but I've started uni (and have now entered second year...wow, how crap am I? – Don't answer that!) so I haven't had too much spare time. But I am desperate to get this story out, so I'll do my best. Oh, and be on the look-out in the next few weeks because I am planning on posting one of my character study pieces that relates to this fic; it will focus on Remy, just after Rogue leaves, so check it out (more details in my A/N at the end).
So here it is; Chapter 14
Disclaimer: You know the deal guys; Marvel got there first, I'm just playing with their characters.
The Bitter One
"To the Moon and Back" by Savage Garden
Rogue was hardly surprised to find the Wild Roses already dressed and cramped around their small kitchen table, at 9am the next morning. Nevertheless, it took her a few moments to fully process the scene, before the alluring scent off freshly brewed coffee brought her back to her senses.
"So this is what it takes ta get ya'll up before mid-day?" She leaned against the counter and sipped the coffee she had just plucked from Tabitha's hands. "Are ya'll that desperate for some gossip?"
Before they could reply, a light groan announced the arrival of their visitor as Wanda Maximoff stumbled through the kitchen doorway.
"Mornin' Sleepin' Beauty, rough night?" Rogue smirked as the pale and dishevelled girl attempted to glare at her.
"Do you have any idea how depressing it is to wake up in this crap-hole?"
"Ah think Ah know a little somethin' about that." She smiled and directed Wanda towards an empty chair, handing her a cup of coffee. "Here, drink this."
"I really doubt that is going to do any good. I feel like hell."
"Trust me, you don't look much better." Emma drawled, smirking as Wanda answered with her middle finger.
"Well Wands, this is what happens when ya drink ya own body weight in vodka. See girls; let that be a lesson to ya. Ya'll can take Miss Maximoff's example here as ya very own after school special." Rogue pulled out the chair opposite Wanda and waited for the rest of the Roses to gather behind her. "So...?"
"So what?"
"Sugar, as much as Ah love this little impromptu visit, Ah'd quite like an explanation as ta why ya were unconscious."
"I 'drank my own body weight in vodka', remember?"
"That's painfully obvious, but Ah'm goin' ta need ta know why."
"Not yet." Wanda grimaced. "Just give me a little while, yeah?"
"She's taking her time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside..."
"Fine, but Ah better hear about it later. Oh, and ya might want ta give the Saint a call as well; let him know ya're not still comatose."
"Crap, crap, crap." The girl put her face in her hands, as realization dawned on her. "I called St John last night? God, I was hoping that was just a dream."
"Ah'm afraid not, Sugar. Although, it does leave us with a particularly Freudian question; why exactly was St John – the man who is supposedly stalking ya – the subject of your drunken phone calls?" Rogue smiled as Wanda's face scrunched-up and her cheeks took on a rosy hue.
"...Guess she knows from the smiles
And the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one..."
"Well, maybe he's not as bad as I first thought…"
"Explain." Amara cut in.
"Why do I get the feeling that this friendly chat is rapidly turning into some form of interrogation?"
"We've been pretty low on gossip recently, so we need the dirt." Tabby smirked.
"I'm glad my life is such an abundant source of entertainment for you." Wanda squinted and held her head. "I don't suppose you could dim the lights in here, could you?"
"No, so quit stalling and spill."
"Torture the information out of me why don't you…" Wanda's mumbled reply was dry, but the defeat was evident in her eyes. "Look, a couple of months ago I got sick of the little creep turning up everywhere I went. So, when I found him drinking in my favourite café, I decided to confront him. I mean, I could deal with the constant phone calls asking me out, but it had gotten to the point where I couldn't turn around without seeing his face."
"Ya have ta give it ta him, the boy is persistent." Rogue interjected as she refilled Wanda's cup.
"Not exactly the word I'd of used, but…" She paused, taking a sip of the steaming liquid. "So, I sit down and start yelling and all he does is sit there, with that stupid grin on his face. God I wanted to hit him… But then we just started talking and before I knew it, it had become a sort of weekly date. I mean, don't get me wrong, he is still an insufferable little creep who follows me around everywhere. But, on Thursday mornings in the café, he is just a normal guy. And we have a lot in common, you know? He gets my parent and sibling issues; he understands me. Then last night, I was really messed up…"
"So ya called the person ya knew would help; the person ya know would do anything y asked him to?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Wada looked around the kitchen, before frowning at the girls. "But how the hell did I wind up here?"
"St John wrestled ya away from the creep ya were ready ta go home with and brought ya here. He couldn't find your keys and figured ya would freak out if ya woke-up at his place, so he dumped ya on our doorstep – metaphorically speaking, of course."
"I guess I owe him the world's biggest apology." Wanda held her head again. "Christ, I have the mother of all headaches. I don't suppose you know any good hang-over cures?"
"Only one guaranteed remedy I know of." Tabby rummaged in the cupboard behind her, before pulling out a bottle of scotch and placing it on the table. "Just keep drinking."
Wanda paled at the sight of the dark liquid, silently thanking Rogue as she tugged the bottle out of sight, sending a glare towards her younger colleague.
"Ah think she's done enough of that, Tabs. Perhaps we should try a more conventional method?" She sighed and turned towards her sick friend. "Why don't ya go take a shower? Ah'll leave ya some clean clothes by the door?"
"Yeah, that actually sounds good." Wanda nodded as Rogue guided her out of the room and away from prying eyes. "Sorry about all this."
"Don't mention it Sugar. But I would like ta ask ya one last question though."
"Shoot."
"Do ya have any kind of romantic interest in St John?"
"Well..." Wanda sighed and looked away. "It's not like that, you know? We're friends; he's just someone I can really talk to."
"But Ah take it ya are aware that he sees it as more than that?"
"You think I'm leading him on, don't you?"
"Ah think ya're using him ta unburden all ya troubles. Which is fine Wand, but Ah really do think he likes ya. The poor guy's knight in shinin' armour routine is useless if ya don't want ta be saved."
"I think I probably do need saving. I mean look at me; I hardly scream functional, do I?"
"But the question is; is it St John ya want ta come ta ya rescue?"
"Jeez, that's a can of worms best left shut..." Wanda shook her head, clearing the thoughts from her mind. "No; I need him as a friend. That's as far as it goes."
"Maybe it's time ta let him know that, Sugar. Last thing any of us wants is ta see either of ya hurt."
"...They're saying:
Mama never loved her much
And daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from human affection..."
"...But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for
The right kind of pilot to come..."
Eric Lensherr had not exactly had the best start in life; the only child of a strictly working-class family, young Eric's scholarly mind had been squandered in public school. However, after achieving the highest marks of all his graduating class, he was offered a substantial scholarship, which enabled him to complete his education at one of the country's most prestigious colleges. It was here that Eric Lensherr first met Charles Xavier.
Assigned as roommates in their first year, the boys soon discovered that they had found their intellectual equal. With their grades far surpassing most of their fellow students, the pair began to realise that their only competition could be found in one another. For Eric, such an academic equal was a relief compared to the friends he had back home. Charles, however – who had grown up the son of a prominent diplomat, privately educated in a well-respected neighbourhood – found Eric's experiences of growing up in the real world to be fascinating. They were constantly challenging each other; constantly trying to further themselves in preparation for their ambitious futures. They were kindred spirits.
Charles Xavier's future in government had been a certainty since his early teens, yet only now, with Eric's influence, could he see the true potential of his position. They began planning their way to the top; a double team of masterminds that would be unstoppable. Xavier's connections, public upbringing and notable family combined with Lensherr's experiences of the working class and controversial political views; the two were certain to make a difference.
Their dream became a reality after they both graduated college with honours, at the age of twenty-four. Charles stood as the front-man to their revolutionary policies; gaining the recognition they needed to push themselves forward, with Eric firmly by his side as an advisor. With all the right meetings, the pair found themselves primed for the top. Financial backing was practically being thrown at them from all angles, everyone in full support of the fresh-faced youngster who were going to change the world.
However, that was until one fateful meeting changed the boys' lives forever. One policy Charles had been keen to uphold was to provide poorer children with opportunities that would not normally be available to them - an idea he had gotten from Eric's upbringing. In the early stages of their career, this took the form of an employment scheme within the party. One particular summer, a temp was hired as a secretary to one of Eric's assistants. At 18 years old, Magda Maximoff had entered the scheme after graduating her public High School; the terms of her contract stated that she would work for the company throughout the summer and in return, they would sponsor her through her college career.
Eric Lensherr had been enchanted by the girl from the moment they met. She was soft spoken, smart, beautiful and well mannered. To Eric, she was a breath of fresh air in the power-hungry world of politics. Magda, for her part, idolised her mentor; she was besotted. The more time they spent together, the closer the pair drew; Magda falling steadily in love with the older man and Eric lapping up her devotion.
Their affair was - of course - kept a secret, ending dutifully on her last day of employment. However, a month later Eric Lensherr was to find a tearful Magda on his doorstep, late one evening. She was pregnant; with twins. The scandal caused a huge blow to their campaign and all of their lives. The Maximoff's were outraged at their daughter's misfortune and Charles Xavier found himself drowning in bad publicity. Magda, however, was terrified; just at the beginning of her college career, she knew that if she didn't get rid of the babies her life would be ruined. As she sat on Eric Lensherr's sofa that night her head spun with everyone else's opinions and solutions, so much so that she could not hear her own thoughts.
To see his Magda in such distress almost broke Eric Lensherr's heart. She was a scared child looking for comfort, not admonitions and tribulation. That night he was the only person she had; the only one that was there for her. He didn't tell her what to do, he didn't worry or yell or reprimand her for troubling him. No, he simply held her and in that moment, she fell in love with him all over again. Perhaps it was this that opened her mind to a new possibility; she didn't have to get rid of her babies, nor did she have to hand them over to someone else. She didn't even have to drop-out of college and raise the children on her own; because, when she woke-up next to her lover the next morning, Eric Lensherr had a proposition for her.
"...I would fly you to the moon and back
If you'll be, if you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So, would you be my baby?..."
They were going to get married. Yes, she would have to leave college and, yes, he would be forced to put his political career on hold; but they would be a family. Within six months they were a married couple and Magda had given birth to twins; Pietro and Wanda Lensherr, named after Eric's parents. Even though money was tight, they were happy, contented and utterly in love.
However, Eric's new lower standing within Charles Xavier's political rise, brought him closer to some of their less than favourable associates; and it was not long before Lensherr's head began to be turned towards their more profitable practices. With Charles still angry over the scandal that threatened to destroy their success, Eric grew lonely. Bored of his desk job, its considerably low pay grade and the suppression of his vast intelligence; his moral code began to slowly chip away.
This was how Eric Lensherr first became acquainted with the Shadows. He started slowly, collecting money from those within the political sphere who owed their low-life dealers for supporting their secret habits. Soon he was permitted to actually carry and distribute the goods, as well as collecting on debts. The rich preferred this new way of business; keeping their transaction within the light, where nobody would think to look, rather than sneaking around in the Shadows.
As his corruption grew, Lensherr was further elevated within the forbidden community. His intelligence saw him promoted within the criminal sphere, as he brought new business ventures and profit to whoever he worked for. It was then that his dear wife began to notice the change within him. Still the beautifully moral girl Eric had married; they began to argue over her disgust of his lifestyle. No longer being a love-sick teenager, Magda was forced to see who her husband really was. But she had nobody to turn to; her friends were just starting their careers – their new lives - and her family had disowned her, when she had decided to leave college and start a family. She was trapped; unable to leave for the sake of her precious children, whom she could not support on her own. Eric, too, began to feel the pressure of his married life. As they argued whenever he was home, he began to find comfort in the arms of other women.
With the stress of her situation – her loneliness due to her forever absent husband and the cabin-fever, induced by her housewife vocation – Magda failed to notice her deteriorating health. She had put her symptoms down to anxiety and pressure; until one day, when her 9 year old twins came in from the garden to find their mother unconscious on the kitchen floor.
Eric Lensherr was at the hospital when they diagnosed his wife with a brain tumour; he held her hand as they were told there was nothing the doctors were able to do at this late stage, and he comforted his crying children as they broke the news to them. However, that night, he could not comfort his wife. How had she not noticed? How had she let it progress that far? How could she be so selfish as to leave him and their children alone?
As Magda's condition rapidly deteriorated, Eric Lensherr's life continued as normal; and on the night she took her last breath, he received the call from the bed of one of Charles' twenty-something secretaries.
In that moment, Eric Lensherr broke. It was as though he could finally see the truth; Magda had not been the problem, it had been him. He had destroyed both of their lives. He had shattered their marriage. He had abandoned her to suffer through the last, painful, six months of her life, alone.
Eric spent the next week hauled up in his office, preparing the funeral. He had not even returned home to check on the well-being of his children; instead, merely calling Magda's parents and instructing them to take responsibility for their unwanted grandchildren. He surrounded himself with memories of his dead wife – pictures, songs, letters – until he was so desperate to have her back, for one last moment, that he tore at his hair and clothes; allowing himself to be consumed by earth-shattering tears.
The funeral was the first time Eric Lensherr had been exposed to reality since his wife's death; and he found that the world had changed in his absence. Charles was, once again, there to offer a supporting hand; his friend, confidant and equal, back at his side. Magda's parents were holding the grandchildren they had never wanted to exist in the first place. His blood boiled at the audacity of the comfort they offered the twins – his children. How dare they deem themselves worthy to console his son and daughter, when they had abandoned their own child? All of the rage and torment, which had built up in the last week, was released onto his mother and father-in-law as he had them thrown from the ceremony. With his arms aching, Eric Lensherr then found himself desperate to hold his children, as he shut out the world so that his family could grieve together.
The next morning, however, Eric's world was once again to come crashing down around him, as he entered the kitchen to find his Magda at the table. But she wasn't quite right; she was smaller, younger. The same dark hair, the same disapproving look; but her eyes were blue not brown. As his breath caught, Eric was suddenly aware of the striking resemblance that Wanda bore to her mother. Whereas Pietro was, without a doubt, a carbon copy of his father; Wanda was Magda's twin, mannerisms included. He found that he could not approach his daughter, for it was as though he was facing his wife all over again; guilt rising up to strangle him whenever he was to look at the child's face.
However, much to his surprise, Eric Lensherr found that Wanda did not seek him out; neither of his children did. They seemed quite content to comfort each other. It then occurred to him how close the twins really were, and it startled him even further to discover that he was jealous of the fact. In order to comfort himself, Eric needed to comfort his children. Yet, with Wanda's close resemblance to his dead wife, he found himself unable to approach her.
So, two weeks after her mother's death and at only 10 years of age, Wanda Lensherr found herself shipped off to a considerably expensive boarding school. Lensherr knew that the siblings would be difficult to separate, so he had told Pietro that Wanda had asked to be sent away. Eric lead his son to believe that his sister was abandoning him, so that he would let her leave without causing a fuss; in turn causing Wanda to think that her twin wanted her to go.
However, with Wanda gone, Eric Lensherr's life still continued to deteriorate. He could not focus on his work, whether legal or illegal. All of his money was now going towards paying for Wanda's education and whatever remained was spent on the alcohol that numbed his sense of grief and guilt. Eric was drowning. He had no money, no way of providing Pietro with the care he needed and no way out. At the age of forty, he had lost his whole world; his wife, his life, his dreams.
Unable to bear watching the pain his former friend suffered, Charles Xavier extended an offer to his companion; he was prepared to loan Eric the money he needed to start his own business. At first Lensherr did not know what to do; all he had ever strived for in life, was political success with Charles by his side. But now that dream was gone; Xavier was moving ahead, a great success on his own and Eric was left broken in his wake. Looking back on his youthful aspirations, Eric Lensherr found that he no-longer agreed with his former self. He could no longer see any happiness within politics; he no longer strived to make the world a better place. In fact, he began to doubt whether he ever had. No, politics was Charles' dream; it was power that Eric had truly craved. It was then that Eric realised that the only true power he could get lay within the Shadows.
Having spent enough time observing the way underhanded business was conducted, he had gained a good enough understanding of where everyone else was going wrong. So Eric Lensherr decided to take on the underworld. Of course Charles Xavier was quite rightfully dubious when his friend first revealed his desire to open a seedy club, on the outskirts of the more respectable part of town. However, his judgement was clouded by his guilt at the part his abandonment had played in Eric's downfall. So he reluctantly agreed, with a few stipulations; the club would be in his name, although Lensherr was free to run it as he wished. In doing this, fifty percent of the profit would go to Xavier – as they would technically be business partners – and Eric had to employ two of Charles trusted companions – James Logan and Ororo Monroe - so that they could keep an eye on his interests. Lensherr agreed to the terms and within a year The Rose Garden was open for business.
Whilst her father rebuilt his life, Wanda's was spiralling out of control. She had watched her mother die, whilst her father had remained absent and she had then been abandoned by the only family she had left. Pietro and herself had been inseparable, they knew each other better than they even knew themselves; yet her twin had been happy to watch be taken away. He hadn't even fought for her. The day she left was the last time Wanda had spoken to her brother civilly; now she was deserted to face the world alone.
"...She can't remember a time
When she felt needed
If love was red then she was colour-blind..."
She would come home during the holidays to find her father as absent as ever; leaving her and Pietro to be looked after by the girls that worked in his club. For the most part Pietro seemed oblivious to their father's despicable nature; Wanda, however, was not so blind. The older she got, the more she saw. She began to realise that her mother's sorrow had been caused by her father's infidelities and morally dubious practices. She could see that the women of the club – far from the glamorous entities they appeared to be - were really prostitutes and her father their pimp. Though, being so far removed from their world during term time, Wanda could not bring herself to care too much about her father's habits and business ventures.
However, this all changed the moment she met the Rogue. The day Wanda arrived home to find the young girl working in her father's club, was the day that changed her life forever. At the age of fifteen and a virgin, Wanda had never even considered what it would be like to work in such an establishment; yet here was a girl, the same age as her – perhaps even a few months younger – doing just that. She had never felt so sickened in her entire life; how could her father allow something like this? At that moment Wanda was forced to stop feeling sorry for herself and admit that her father cared for nobody but number one.
Pietro, Wanda soon discovered, was thoroughly intrigued with the idea of such an easily accessable girl of his age, and wasted no time in getting his father to set up a 'meeting'. As she had spent a great deal of her Christmas break getting to know Rogue, Wanda was thoroughly appalled to learn that her twin brother had become one of the girl's clients; using none other than their father as liaison.
"...All her friends, they've been trialed for treason
And crimes that were never defined..."
After realising that Pietro had lost his virginity to a prostitute – who just so happened to be one of her closest friends, by this point in time – Wanda began to question her own lack of sexual activity, having never even kissed a boy. Her vindictive and spiteful sentiments towards her father and brother began to manifest themselves in the form of a reckless attitude. However, in an all girls boarding school with strict restrictions on socialisation, the options were limited. Coupled with a stifling need for love and affection, that had been building since her mother's death, this led her straight into the arms of her history teacher, Duncan Loyd; a married man exactly twice her age who had just become a father for the first time.
"...But she's saying;
Love is like a barren place
And reaching out for human faith
Is like a journey I just don't have a map for..."
The affair was passionate and all-consuming, taking a toll on the young girl that she would not fully realise until she was much older. But, at the time, Wanda found herself blinded to all but him. Her grades suffered due to their clandestine meetings and her inability to focus on anything else, when they were not together. She began to need and depend on him so entirely that her world consisted of nothing else; something which he did nothing to discourage. He was young at heart, after all, and began to fall for the thrill of excitement and secrecy as much as she had. So that by the time his wife began to suspect, he was too far in to see his way out.
They were spending the night in the small apartment he kept – for when he had early class, or so he told his wife – when he broke the news that their affair was no longer a secret. Duncan's wife had no idea, of course, that his mistress was half his age; she merely suspected that he was seeing another teacher at the school. Nevertheless, she was threatening to leave him, so the time for action was upon them.
"...So baby gonna take a dive and
push the shift to overdrive
Send a signal that she's hanging all her hopes on
the stars..."
As Wanda sat terrified on the edge of the bed, feeling as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the air around her, he took her hand; he was leaving his wife. Her heart soared as the words passed his lips, floating higher and higher as he assured her of his plan. He was going to stop teaching and get another job – although he had no idea as to what type of job – and he would buy a bigger apartment; and then they could be together. Although everything would have to remain hidden until she became legal, they would still have each other.
He loved her, he said; he needed her and nothing was going to keep them apart. Wanda could not quite believe how perfect everything seemed, she was finally going to be loved and looked after the way she had craved since the age of ten. She did not need her brother or father anymore because she had Duncan and, one day, they would have their own family. That night could not have been more perfect; as they basked in the glory of post-coital bliss, the pair talked for hours of the life they would build together. For the first time, in a long time, Wanda was happy; joyous even.
"...What a pleasant dream..."
However, the situation did not seem quite so ideal, when she awoke in the early hours of the next morning. As she disentangled her limbs from her lover's and sank into a chair by the window, Wanda realised that their plan did not appear quite so flawless in the harsh light of the dawn. In fact, it seemed fairly absurd.
He was going to give up his life – his job, his wife, his daughter – for her; it seemed incomprehensibly ridiculous. She was only just sixteen, after all; she had her whole life ahead of her and anything could change in that time. She loved him – yes, in that moment Wanda believed that she loved him – but she had yet to finish school, and then there was college to consider. She was going to change as a person, and what would happen if that person no longer loved Duncan; what would happen if she fell in love with someone her own age? He could not destroy his life for her; she was still no more than a child.
Then there was his family to consider. How could Wanda sit a wallow in self-pity over her own neglectful father, when she was planning to deprive another little girl of hers? Had she not despised her own father for the way he had treated their mother; for all the affairs he used to drive her into the ground? And yet, here she was playing house with another woman's husband.
The shame coiled in her stomach like a hideous beast. How could she have been so selfish? How had they allowed the affair to reach the point where it was threatening to devastate everything; not merely just the pair of them, but everyone else as well? They couldn't, and she knew it.
"...I would fly you to the moon and back
If you'll be, if you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So, would you be my baby?..."
Wanda left before he awoke, crippling sobs wracking through her body during the cab back to the school. Her whole world crumbling away in front of her, the debris landing on her chest and smothering the breath from her lungs. She still loved him and her body – her heart – ached to turn back and run into his arms. Yet she knew that she could not. For the third time in her short sixteen years of age, Wanda found herself growing up before her time; her mother's illness, her father's abandonment and now the loss of her first love, leaving her with an exhaustion beyond her years.
She had left a note, in her place on the pillow beside him, instructing Duncan to return to his wife. He should tell her that the affair was over and, to prove his loyalty, they would move away; he would have to transfer jobs and they would never be able to see each other again. He had to take care of his own family. So he did, and now those six months were nothing but a memory.
In time, she began to blame Duncan for the damage the relationship had wrecked on her already tattered life; especially after confiding in Rogue. Wanda had been no more than a child after all, and he had left her to shoulder all responsibility for the affair. He had spun fairytales of impossible futures and immersed himself in childish fantasies, leaving it up to her to be the mature adult; a responsibility she had not been ready to take. The whole relationship had taken a heavy toll on her, leaving Wanda's life to take yet another nose dive.
Looking back, she knew now that she had never really loved him; she was merely besotted, infatuated. He was an obsession born from her desperation for any form affection. He too had merely been acting out of loneliness, his wife suddenly preoccupied with the new baby to whom she was devoting all her attention. The difference was – as an enraged Rogue had pointed out on many an occasion – that he was an adult, whereas Wanda was merely a naive little girl. He should have known better; he should have been the one to stop it before they got too attached; before they became so thoroughly devoted to one another.
Now Wanda was living in an apartment on the other end of town. Not going to college – as Pietro did – she lived off of her father's money and spent a great deal of her time 'doing nothing' in the company of people she knew he would not approve of. The Roses, of course, being at the top of this list of individuals; Eric having insisted that they sever ties, the moment he realised that his daughter was no longer an innocent little angel.
She shied away from serious relationships, yet refused to spend the night with a stranger. At twenty Wanda was close to very few people, only trusting and truly relying on two people; the Rogue and, recently, St John. Of course, her relationship with Eric and brother had not improved. In fact, her opinion of Pietro had deteriorated rapidly over the last few years, as every time she saw him he reminded her more and more of their father. Yet, even though she despised him, Wanda found herself vying for Eric's attention. Always to be knocked-back, of course; she seemed to be spending a lot of time on the metaphorical floor these days.
Wanda Maximoff – having officially abandoned her father's last name, the moment she was legally able to do so - did not count herself as having a life, she was merely stuck in a rut of activities that seemed to further her in no way at all; performing her way through life. She had been drowning since the age of ten; always struggling towards the surface, yet never reaching the air she craved. It took all of her energy to not allow herself to give in, even though she was unsure as to what exactly she was fighting for.
Sometimes she wished she could be more like her brother and just not care about a damn thing.
"Okay, whose smart idea was this?" The Roses - currently crowded around one of the club's tables organising the sets for that evening - turned to find a freshly showered Wanda Maximoff, gesturing to the pale pink shirt and Pineapple jogging trousers she was wearing.
"We figured Kitty was the best fit for you size-wise." Jean answered, as the others tried to control their laughter.
"And she didn't have anything a little less...girly? Maybe something in black?" Wanda huffed as she slumped into the empty chair between Rogue and Amara. "Urgh, I feel like death." Putting her head in her hands Wanda finally studied the faces that were peering at her, hovering on a one she didn't recognise. "Who are you?"
"Um, Katherine Pride..." The newest Rose stammered at being so rudely addressed. "Well, Kitty actually...the girl whose clothes you just insulted."
"How old are you anyway? Twelve?" Kitty's cheeks darkened slightly as she attempted to look affronted.
"Nineteen actually, not that it's any of your business."
"Actually it is." Wanda twisted her head to look at Rogue enquiringly, before shaking her head and releasing a humourless laugh. "What the fuck is my father playing at now?" Her voice had thickened.
"What's goin' on Sugar?" Rogue questioned as she leant towards her friend, who sighed and closed her eyes. "Ah know ya ain't stupid enough ta get yaself blind drunk when ya got no one ta look out for ya. St John said ya were too wasted ta tell that ya were all set ta go home with a pretty dangerous guy. I know ya'll are too smart for that, so what gives?"
"Yesterday was the tenth anniversary of mum's death." The silence that followed the statement seemed to ring through the room like the clanging of a church bell.
"Oh God, Ah completely forgot –" Wanda cut Rogue off with another shake of her head, turning to stare at her own hands resting on the table.
"No, it's fine. It's been ten years, not as though I'm not used to it by now... But, I just..." Another sigh, followed by a deep intake of breath. "I just thought it might be nice to do a family thing, you know?"
"But Pie and your dad weren't as enthusiastic?" Rogue guessed.
"No, actually, they both agreed to come – which surprised me. I had it all organised; just a small dinner at that restaurant dad likes, I even called the day before to remind him. But, of course, when it came down to it I guess it was just too much effort to actually turn up."
"Wow, I'm sorry Wanda." Jean reached forward to clasp the younger girl's hands in her own. "I'm sure it wasn't personal."
"Yeah, maybe it was too sad a day for him?" Amara ventured tentatively, none of the Roses sure why exactly they were defending their boss. Wanda just scoffed.
"What about Pietro, did he go?" Rogue's voice was quiet and slightly shy. Wanda's eyes sought hers immediately, her hands pulling free of Jean's comforting grip as she leant away from the leader of the Roses.
"Of course you'd already know he was in town, wouldn't you?" Again a humourless laugh ripped from Wanda's throat. "I should have known he'd already paid you a little visit. I'm surprised you're actually here Rogue, I would have thought you'd be at his beck and call all week."
"Don't be like that, Wand –"
"Like what? Disgusted that my brother gets our father to pay a prostitute – who just so happens to be a friend of mine – to entertain him?" The room was silent, as the group held their breath. The Rogue and Wanda Maximoff were both known for their extremely volatile tempers, the thought of them going head to head was not something that anyone wanted to deal with.
"Ah'm sorry Sugar, but Ah can't -"
"No, it's fine." Yet her tone seemed to suggest it was anything but. "I'm not blaming you for this; it's not your fault that I have a fucked-up family." Running her hands over her face, Wanda shifted back towards her friend and sighed.
"So I'm guessing Pietro decided to skip dinner as well?" Tabby pushed, resulting in yet another snort from Wanda.
"I wish. No Pietro actually turned up – something I wasn't expecting – which is why everything got so screwed-up. I mean, I only invited Pietro because of dad, but instead I had to suffer through dinner with him on my own."
"Why was that a problem?" Kitty recoiled slightly at the glare Wanda sent her way. "I mean, he's your brother isn't he?"
"Yeah well, my brother and I don't get along. We haven't been alone in each other's company for five years, and it didn't end well then either." The smile that graced Wanda's face was vaguely malicious, before falling into a troubled frown. "I just couldn't sit there listening to his obnoxiously polite small talk! I mean, why the fuck would dad say he was coming if he had no intentions of it? I'm so tired of all his bullshit."
"He probably just forgot. Ah'm sure he wasn't deliberately tryin' to upset ya, Sugar." Rogue ventured tentatively.
"Oh yeah, I guess I should have remembered that I'm the easily forgettable one; Pietro's the only child that bastard cares about." Sniffing and wiping her hands quickly across her eyes, Wanda pulled herself straighter in her chair. "But, you know what, I can't even think about dad right now. I'm so far past caring about that after last night... God, I really messed up."
"What happened?" Emma enquired.
"Pietro was just droning on about himself and acting as though the whole situation wasn't so damn tense and awkward. So I decided – in my infinite wisdom – to just ignore him and drink myself into a stupor; which backfired, of course. He kept trying to get me to talk, just being so fucking patronising and superior; I couldn't take it anymore! So I just started yelling at him, telling him exactly what I thought of him...telling him everything." Rogue was immediately sitting up straighter in alarm.
"What exactly do you mean by 'everythin''?" Wanda's eyes swam with tears as her cheeks darkened with guilt.
"Oh God, Everything. How much I hate him, how much I hate dad. I told him what I thought about dad's bullshit 'business' and what a spineless git Pietro is for blindly following him all the time. God, I told him about...about all the shit dad lets happen." Her breathes were coming faster now, leaving Wanda to stagger over her words as she looked imploringly at Rogue. "I told...I told him about you and... and Creed –" Rogue's breath hitched "About Betsy and Lorna...Oh God Rogue, I'm so sorry. I...I shouldn't have gotten you guys involved."
"Shhh, it's... it's fine, Sugar..." The Rogue tentatively reached a hand towards her friend's shoulder, before pulling it back at the last minute and crossing her arms across her chest instead. "It's not as though it wouldn't have come out eventually, anyway; everyone else seems ta bloody know." Wanda was shaking her head again and desperately trying to get her breathing under control.
"That's not all. I just couldn't make myself shut-up. He was just sitting there, not saying anything. I wanted him to understand how I feel; I just wanted him to see how screwed-up my life is because of him and dad. I'd had too much to drink and I...I told him about school and Duncan and how it was all dad's fault –" Rogue inwardly cringed; knowing Wanda's regrets and heartache over her teenage affair and how she blamed Eric for the bad decision. "Oh God, it's all just such a fucking mess!"
"Maybe it's a good thing, you know, finally getting all of these things out in the open." Amara soothed, stroking the girl's back.
"No, they were things dad and Pietro were never supposed to know. I could face them when everything was still hidden and not talked about. But now that he knows – and will probably tell dad the first chance he gets – I can't pretend to them anymore."
"How did Pie take it?" Rogue ventured. "What did he say?"
"Nothing." Wanda sniffed. "I bared my soul and all he did was sit and stare at me. I was hysterical - crying, shouting in his face – and he said nothing! He didn't even react at all, just looked at me like I was mad. Who the hell does that?!" With a deep breath she pulled her hands into her lap, pulling at the sleeves of the borrowed blouse. "I just ran out; left him sitting there on his own... I guess I must have decided it would be a good idea to drink some more and... Well, you know the rest." With a soft shrug, Wanda left the group in an awkward silence.
"Well, at least you probably won't have to talk to him for another five years...you know, like the last time you guys had a fight." Tabitha Smith smiled brightly.
"Thank you Tabby, that makes me feel so much better." Came Wanda's sarcastic reply. "Can I have that drink now?"
"Tell ya what, why doesn't Emma give Logan a call – give him the all clear and assure him that all of the 'girly drama' is dealt with – and tell him ta get ta work and make us some lunch?" Rogue's suggestion was met by a wiry smile.
"Does that mean I can hang-out for a while? What happened to the 'Wanda is banned from the club in case she gets corrupted'-rule?"
"Well Ah guess we can make an exception, just this once. What Eric doesn't know won't hurt him."
The girls shared a smile as Emma headed towards the phone behind the bar, the tension momentarily dissipated as they fell into the role of friends. The moment of relief didn't last long however, as it was interrupted by the appearance of Remy Lebeau – decked out in motorbike leathers and a helmet swinging from his left hand – at the entrance of the club. The girls fell into an apprehensive silence trying to gage the situation, leaving it to Tabby to break the tension.
"Where have you been all morning?"
"Remy got himself some transportation." He lifted the helmet as way of clarification. "It's a lot quicker than the company car, non?"
"Why do I get the feelin' that some poor bastard woke-up to an empty drive this mornin'?"(*) Rogue stood with her arms folded and an eyebrow quirked.
"Parce que y' bitter, cynical and like t' believe the worst in people?" He turned his attention away from his old friend and focussed on the rest of the girls, his eyes landing on Wanda with a slight nod of his head. "Y' are looking much better this morning, petite."
"I'm feeling it." Wanda's reply was cool as she turned to the others for answers.
"Um... why don't we go and see whether we can find you something a little less 'Kitty' to wear?" Amara declared as she snatched Tabby and Wanda's arms, leaving Jean to grab Kitty, and making their way backstage.
"Who the hell is that?" Wanda's question floated towards the two Southerners as the door swung shut behind the girls.
"Was it something I said?" Remy questioned as he stared down at the Rogue.
"Look Remy, Wanda ain't exactly havin' a good day, so could ya maybe cut her some slack?"
"Wow, Remy's been here for less than two minutes and y' already on his back 'bout something he hasn't even done yet. That must be some kind of record." He glared at her as he tried to move towards the door to their quarters, but Rogue stepped into his path and held up her hand to stop him.
"Remy, Ah know ya are under some kinda obligation ta Eric and that ya have ta tell him when we do somethin' we ain't supposed ta. Now, Ah'm pretty sure that entertaining his daughter is pretty high up the 'don't do' list, but Ah'm askin' ya ta just keep this one ta yaself; for Wanda's sake."
"Look Anna -" his lips quirked at her obvious irritation of being addressed by her christened name, "Remy don't know what y' going on 'bout, but Mr Lensherr didn't say nothing about his daughter."
"Oh." Rogue's glare faltered as it dawned on her that she had just incriminated herself.
"Don't worry, Remy has no intention of telling Lensherr." He held up his hand as Rogue began to open her mouth to deliver a, no-doubt witty, retort. "Don't get me wrong Anna, Remy isn't here to do y' any favours – the moment y' step over the line, I won't hesitate to report y' to the boss. But, like y' said, the Chere has had a rough day... and, besides, Remy knows a lil' something 'bout daddy-issues."
"Remy –" He, once again, held up a hand to stop her.
"Don't thank Remy." His glare turned into a sneer, as he ran his eyes up and down her body. "There isn't enough soap in the world to wash y' gratitude off of me." Rogue' eyes sparkled with anger.
"Ya really are an arrogant bastard aren't ya." Her voice was nothing but a hiss of rage
"An' y' a grubby lil' whore – it's all sticks and stones, Anna"
After lunch the rest of the Roses and Wanda were crowded back around the table, watching Rogue follow Logan around behind the bar - badgering him about something financial - whilst Tabby hunched close to Remy on a barstool.
"So, you really got a bike?" Tabitha enquired.
"Oui Petite, y' wanna go for a ride?" Remy smirked and raised his eyebrows causing Tabby to giggle, placing a hand on his arm.
"No bikes Tabby; bikes cause accidents, which lead ta scars, which means no clients." Rogue interrupted as she shuffled some papers on the bar in front of the pair.
"Who said Remy was talking 'bout the bike?" Rogue glared as Tabby's eyes surveyed Remy with a lustful smirk.
"God, you can cut the sexual tension in here with a knife." Wanda mumbled to the rest of the girls at the table, her eyes fixed in the direction of the bar.
"Oh, don't worry about that. Tabs is only play-flirting, she doesn't mean anything by it." Amara followed Wanda's gaze and smiling, causing the older woman to frown slightly.
"I wasn't actually talking about Tabby –" She cut herself off as Emma directed a glare her way. "Or, I could be wrong." Wanda shifted awkwardly as the other girls – with the exception of Emma – began to scowl, trying to interpret the meaning of her words. "Okay...So, who fancies taking the night off?"
"As much as I'd enjoy hanging out with you, you're not worth losing my job for Wand." Tabby announced as she and Rogue began making their way towards the group, leaving Remy to mumble something about taking his 'baby' for a spin, before swaggering towards the door.
"No, I meant that one of you should give me your slot tonight. Imagine dad's face if he was to walk in and find me on the stage, dancing for a club full of people." Her eyes widened with mischief as she stood up and twirled around. "I'm kinda already dressed for the part already." Wanda gestured towards the black vest-top and purple wrap-around jazz pants – which were currently sporting a slight split on either side, considering that Amara was at least a size smaller than her, so the sides didn't quite meet up.
"As amusing as that would be, Ah think it's proably better if ya don't Sugar." Rogue rolled her eyes at her friend.
"Oh, come on! It will be well worth the bollocking you'll get, and you know it."
"Well, that is certainly up for debate. However, Ah'm sorry ta have ta tell ya this Wand, but there's a little more ta it then just dressin' the part."
"You don't think I've got what it takes? I'll have you know that I took a class in pole-dancing." At Rogue's look of disbelief, Wanda waltzed over to the stage and hauled herself up next to the pole. "If you wouldn't mind choosing me some appropriate music, Jean?"
As the first bars reached their ears – the Rogue rolling her eyes at the rather predictable choice of 'Dirrty' - the Roses whooped and cheered their friend on as she began to showcase her 'talents'. It took a few beats for Wanda to get in time with the music, but she was soon gaining in confidence. She started to swing around the pole, with great encouragement from the others; performing a seemingly complicated montage of tricks.
"No, Ah'm sorry but ya just ain't doin' it for me Sugar." Rogue tutted in mock-disapproval. "Ya see, that's the problem with these class-things; they're all about the stunts. They don't teach ya what ya really need ta know." Rogue ascended the stage to stand behind her scowling friend. "Only girls are impressed with how many complicated tricks ya can pull, the guys only want the sexy."
"Oh for Pete's sake." Logan exclaimed, as Rogue grabbed Wanda's hips and began provocatively grinding her against the pole.
Soon, the rest of the girls had joined them on the stage, eager to flaunt their own skills. Dancing, laughing and – in some cases – singing together, all seven girls completely forgot the world around them. Even Logan, who was vaguely uncomfortable watching the arousing display, couldn't help but allow a smile through his embarrassment. They were enjoying themselves, completely innocent and carefree – even if it was slightly disturbing, if you were to look at it too closely.
"What exactly is going on here?" The girls froze as the unmistakable voice of Eric Lensherr interrupted their vivacity. He stood in the doorway, the light behind him causing a vast shadow to stretch across the room. Beside him stood the hulking mass of Piotr Rasputin, who was attempting to appear as unimposing as possible in the uncomfortable silence. Eric's face was tinged with an angry flush, his eyes narrowing at the scene before him. "Wanda, I think it would be best if you left now." His glare lingered over his daughter's face for a moment longer, before turning its full intensity on Rogue. "My office!"
"Dad, this isn't anything to do with Rogue, or the others." Wanda took a tentative step towards her father.
"Do not try my patience, Wanda!" His sharp tone caused her to shift backwards again. "It's time for you to leave. Rogue; my office, now!" As he began to storm towards the backstage-door, Wanda sprang forward into his path.
"No dad, don't blame them for this. This is all on me, right?"
"I will deal with you later, now go."
"Dad, wait!" Once again, she visibly shrank back as her father rounded on her.
"Wanda, I have asked you, time and time again, not to come here; this is no place for a girl of your age to be spending time."
"That's bullshit, Rogue is three months younger than me and she bloody works here!"
"That is completely beside the point, Wanda. I am not discussing the club or my business with you, that is none of your concern –"
"Alright, let's talk about something that is 'my concern'. How about last night dad, huh? Why don't we talk about that, because that's why I'm here after all!"
"We will talk later. Now leave."
"No!" Her voice resonated throughout the sharply silent room, causing all but Lensherr to hold their breath in fear. "You are not just going to fob me off with the 'not now' crap. I'm tired of waiting for 'later' to never come. I want to know now, dad; why weren't you there last night?" Eric seemed taken aback for a second, but his recover was exceptional.
"I have more important things to do than be at your beck and call, Wanda; I am a very busy man."
"Yeah, everything else was always more important than mum wasn't it?" Rogue took an involuntary step forward, fearing for a moment that Eric might strike his daughter. But Wanda fronted her senior out; standing her ground, with eyes hard enough to rival his. "You never gave a damn about her and you don't give a damn about me."
She seemed to be waiting for a response, but resounding silence seemed to be the only answer he could give. Folding her arms across her chest, Wanda took as step back.
"...Mama never loved her much
And daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from human affection..."
"Right then." She took in a shuddering breath, her eyes lined with mist-like moisture. "I'll be off to fuck up my life some more, shall I? Unless, of course, that was already on your 'to-do list' for today?" The remark, directed at Eric, lacked any sort of conviction as she punctuated it with a sniff and a tearful laugh. Still he just stared, his eyes betraying no emotion but his stern glare. "Well, I'll see you at Christmas. Be sure to say hello to Raven – or whoever is your whore-du-jour – for me." She grabbed her phone from the table and was almost out of the door, before shooting her last comment back at the man, unmoving, in the middle of the room. "I hope she was really worth it; I'd hate to think I was overlooked just for some sub-par shag."
The clanging thump of the front door swinging shut caused a ripple of tension to sweep over the room, seizing all of its inhabitants with the overbearing sensation of apprehension as they waited for the inevitable explosion.
"Rogue; my office, now."
"...But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for
The right kind of pilot to come..."
Wanda's heart was pounding as she finally reached the fresh air, causing her head to spin with a mixture of adrenaline and dehydration from the previous night. She stumble to the wall of the club and rested her feverish forehead against the cool brick wall. Eyes closed at the sensation, she drifted out of consciousness for a moment, before startling awake as her phone emitted a chain of obnoxiously loud tones; signalling a number of missed calls. However, just as she was about to pick up the messages, the phone began to ring again; a live call from an unknown number.
"Hello?" Her eyes widened at the hurried voice on the other end of the phone. All she could do was stutter at the tirade the reached her ear, unable to fit so much as half a word in.
"...I would fly you to the moon and back
If you'll be, if you'll be my baby
Got a ticket for a world where we belong
So, would you be my baby?"
A/N: So there you have it folks, an extra long one to make up for the fact that I am such a neglectful updater! Oh and just to give a little extra spice to my apology, that little prequel I was talking about in my earlier A/N – which will be full of Romy angst – will be a one-shot entitle Hurting You, and will hopefully be up in the not so distant future (I hope). I also have an almost complete HP story, if any of you are into that fandom, so keep checking my page for them if you are interested.
(*) Just a little Prison Break humour for you.