DISCLAIMER: I own none of this you imbecilic bastards. Go bother someone who has the time to kill you slowly.

(Anon goddess, Laceylou76, you're my special girls and I love y'all bigtahme. Just putting that out there. Irual, thanks so much for the cookies, they helped me edit!! SilverWolf77 thanks for delurking, much appreciated and I'm glad you like it! Bloodypassion, thanks for everything girl you rock. TitansRule sorry no intervention but I hope you like the way I do things anyway^^ LadyMageLuna, I'm so flattered you want to read it all again and I hope you enjoy every second! I wish you all much happiness and Tetleys!)

~ Scarlet Letter ~

End Of Days

~*****************************************************************~

They had been sitting on the terrace in silence, Lance holding Kitty's hand since she refused to leave him in his time of grief, Pietro slumped on the half-wall that partitioned the terrace from the rest of the garden, Freddy and Todd just sitting around listlessly. They were waiting to be told whether or not there was any change in Wanda's condition but so far no one had bothered to tell them anything. Not that there was anything to tell, really. Kitty felt restless, as though she were standing on the edge of something bad just about to happen but had no way to stop it or warn anyone else of it. She compensated by leaning in to Lance and taking comfort in the largeness of him next to her. He put his arm around her, understanding the need for closeness. She knew in her heart that if they had not been already reconciled by this time, the shock of Wanda's regression and incapacitation would have brought them together again. And to her, that was the most precious knowledge she had ever had. Knowing that silly tiffs and worries would never be able to keep them from each other in the end, that he would be there whatever happened. She felt a pang of sorrow for Wanda, never having had that, perhaps now she never would. Kitty didn't even think Wanda had ever been kissed before. So much of life had been stolen from her, denied her. The first day of high school, prom nerves, her first A grade, Wanda had none of these things to look back on. Fundamental life experiences that Kitty knew shaped her as a person, had made her the Kitty he was today, Wanda had never had them.

She had her brother, the dejected, beaten creature perched on the partition wall, not looking at anyone, staring out over the perfectly tended lawns, his grief palpable. How he must be feeling, she thought to herself, how guilty he must feel. Losing his twin would break him. He didn't have a father figure to look up to, she knew he'd discarded Magneto as one such a long time ago. He had no love for their father, blamed him for destroying the bond between himself and his sister so long ago. He really had no one besides Wanda to love and take care of. Kitty had about a hundred people, including her family back home, her extended family here, Wanda and the 'hood boys who were not so much extended family as a sort of extra safety net for the really really bad times, to love and who loved her right back. She was wrapped in a safe cocoon of love from all around her, Wanda had really known very little besides betrayal and fear in her relatively short life.

A disturbance to her left caught her attention and she saw the X-kids filing out of one of the side doors, likely from the kitchen, coming towards them with expressions ranging from interest to dislike to open hostility. She prepared to do some good old fashioned yelling. Bobby spoke first, leaning against the redwood terrace table Kitty knew was one of Ororo's favourite pieces of furniture on the premises and addressing Todd.

"So hey, your girlfriend's responsible for all this?" Todd didn't even look at him.

"She's not my girlfriend, yo," he said quietly, and Bobby snickered.

"Not hard to see why!"

"Bobby!" Kitty glared at him, her tone hard and warning him to give up whatever stupid plan of antagonising the boys he would surely have cooked up.

"Just saying is all, Kitty, I mean, even she's not crazy enough to want to get down with that – " Pietro's hands were abruptly around his throat, his eyes glazed over with hatred and raw grief, and Bobby spluttered and coughed, his face rapidly turning purple, the shock making him forget to use his powers at all.

"Pietro! Stop it!" Kitty cried, Amara starting forward with an,

"Oh my God, Bobby!" Fred stepped towards them, picking up Pietro and detaching his hands from around the younger boy's neck, Bobby falling to the ground in a boneless heap, Pietro writhing in Fred's solid grip.

"Guy's insane – " Bobby said, face contorting in anger " – I'll show you what happens to guys who – "

"I'm insane? Maybe I am – maybe you would be too if the only person you had in the world was lying in a coma somewhere in your stupid mansion! If I'm insane then fine but I learned from the best and guess what – he's down in your fucking med bay too, comatose, just like my sister and until they both wake up I'm not going anywhere so you better just fucking deal with that!" Pietro shouted, Fred setting him down but keeping a firm hand on his shoulder to prevent him from flying at Bobby who had risen and was preparing to ice up. Amara stood next to him, hands flaring, glaring daggers at Fred and Pietro, and Kitty looked past them to where Sam and Ray stood, looking intensely uncomfortable with the situation. Roberto had pulled back, viewing the scene with distaste written in bold all over his face, and Jubilee and Rahne were looking to Kitty for direction. She suddenly felt the weight of the world on her shoulders – they were only kids for God's sake, she was older and on the real team, this was hers to sort out. She felt Lance's arm leave her shoulder and the subtle push forward he gave her and she knew she could do it.

"Bobby, you listen to me and you better take this to heart – if I ever see you being this insensitive to someone who's grieving again I will phase your heart right out of your chest and leave it out, is that clear? And the rest of you – I am so ashamed to call you my housemates right now, I can't even express it! None of you will ever be X-men if you let your teammates act this stupid – it is your responsibility to make sure the others toe the line and act like they should when they're wearing that damn uniform and even when you're not you still represent us and what we stand for – and Amara, honestly, just because you have, like, a total thing for Bobby does not mean you can use this as an excuse to be Bitch Number One around here – that's still Rogue's title so you just back down or else!"

"I – Kitty's right..." Roberto sighed from his position at the back of the group before leaving, and Amara put her hand on Bobby's arm and led him away, the two of them united in their indignation.

"We're sorry man, hope your sister makes it," Ray mumbled in Pietro's direction but he didn't answer him. Jubilee and Rahne just nodded to Kitty and turned to leave with Ray and Sam, and Kitty crossed her arms over her chest and huffed loudly.

"I'm just glad Jamie wasn't here to see that. Ororo is totally going to hear about this so if you guys aren't in your rooms in five, expect bad weather." They left a little faster after that. She felt Lance's arms encircle her from behind and looked up at him, the pride on his face warming her from the inside.

"Kitten, I've never loved you more," he said honestly, and Pietro looked at her appraisingly.

"I would have hurt him, Kitty. Thanks. I know you love Wanda as much as I do," he said softly, and Kitty smiled at him.

"It's gonna be okay, Pietro. I mean, there's no way she didn't totally bond with you while she was doing so well lately and she like, totally does love you, you know? When she wakes up, you'll work it out..."

"She's gonna hate us all again," Todd said dejectedly, and Lance shook his head.

"Wanda's family. She won't forget that just because of this. She's better than that." Kitty only hoped that he was right...

~****************************************************************~

Faces floated in front of her. Round and genial, smiling proudy at her. Freddy, she knew him, Freddy the Teddy. Freddy who'd talked to her, who hadn't run away. File under 'Good'. Another face. Thin, framed by lanky hair, skin unhealthy looking and grey in hue. Todd... Toad. That was Toad. Toad who worshipped the ground she walked on, who followed her constantly, who was shit-scared of her but always came back. File under 'Good'. This face was manly, ruggedly handsome if sporting an odd hairdo. It suited him. Gave him a stronger chin. Lance? Lance... Avalanche, who made the ground shake and brought down buildings. Lance who brought her cocoa when she was cold and felt lonely. File under 'Good'. Definitely. A brown-haired blue-eyed beauty with a snub nose and an infectious smile was looking at her, eyes twinkling. Kitty. Lance loved her. Wanda loved her too. Not by default, but because she was always so warm and so loving to everyone. File under 'Good'.

This face was framed by snow-white bangs and had deeply-lined, forest green eyes. The mouth was full-lipped and painted dark purple, and smiling. Rogue. Rogue who had reached out, connected with her. Rogue who made her feel loved and special. Rogue who fought with her and laughed with her, who knew the value of silence and when to use it. File under 'Good'. Red eyes watched her. They weren't threatening, but they glowed intrigueingly, chestnut hair falling into them. Remy. Rogue and Remy, Remy and Rogue. She trusted him and Wanda trusted her. He made Rogue smile. File under 'Good'. The next face was lovely, green eyes and red hair, but it reminded Wanda of that vacuous Disney bimbo with a fishy tail she had once seen on television and she discarded it. It wasn't important. It was irritating. File under 'Meh'. Someone with red sunglasses on went in the same pile, an itching feeling that he was something to do with the previous face leading her to place him there. If it was associated with her, it couldn't be worth the time. Then there was a sharp-featured face, with silver-white hair and a loving smile, handsome but painful. It cut into her heart and she wanted to ignore it but it wouldn't go away. Something like me, someone like me, someone who's hurt me... Pietro. Her twin brother. Flesh of her flesh. Traitor. Betrayer. He loved her. He had taken care of her. Lied to her. But he loved her. He looked so much like him... But he loved her. He'd do anything for her. He was sorry, she knew he was sorry. The pain was there, but he loved her and she couldn't but file him under 'Good'.

And another face. It was like Pietro's but older, meaner, harder. His. Father... My father... He had to die. Not once but twice had he taken something from her, first her childhood, her life, then the vengeful wrath that had been all she had lived for – her revenge. He had stolen them. Played with her. Made her forget. Made that little monkey-faced man take her memories and warp them, turn them into lies. They still tried to usurp the realities now, but she was stronger. She knew them for what they were. Illusions.

The hugs she had been shocked by when she felt them made sense to her now. She'd never felt them before, memories of them were false and her body knew it even if her mind believed otherwise. Her body didn't lie to her. The nightmares of cold and dark and not being able to move were true, real things that had been done to her reaching out to her where the veil between truth and lies was thinnest – the dream-state. Tastes of real food, the feeling of being warm, she understood now why they had always felt so novel to her, so new and precious. Because her body knew they were being experienced for the first time since what seemed like forever and it wanted her to enjoy them, make the most of them until it was forced to forego them for another eternity in thrall. Bathing, dressing herself, all these things she had always felt so strongly about without knowing why, felt ashamed of feeling so deeply when she knew they weren't special for others, they all made sense now. Bathing...

Another face. Blue eyes burning with life, unnaturally fiery hair sweeping into them, a smile that melted her from the inside out... John... John who had held her hands so she wouldn't hurt herslf, John who took her out to dinner for evil ducks, John who was everything she'd never felt before and who had confused her so much... Who'd kissed her and made her feel real again for the first time since she now knew her memories had been altered. John who'd stripped away the dreaming and given reality a reason to win. Who'd told her she was beautiful... The feelings associated with him hurt, but it was a pain she wanted to feel – he was so good at making her feel, truly feel. So much emotion couldn't be healthy, could it? Was it right to feel so strongly, feel everything so intensely? She felt elated. Happy. Sad. But it wasn't enough. It hadn't been enough. Kitty had been so happy, and Rogue... why not Wanda too? Maybe it was wrong, the way John mad her feel, what they'd done... She'd have to ignore it, give it up... Give up on feeling alive again... She didn't want to – she wanted to be selfish, to have it for what it was, to take it and keep it, keep him... But if it wasn't right then maybe she shouldn't. That hurt. It hurt so much she felt that she would die. Needles, loneliness, betrayal, it was all bearable but only if she could be allowed to keep wanting to feel alive. She'd tasted that now, she couldn't let it go again...

Would he let her go? Would he accept it if she said it was wrong, that she couldn't have it? Did he feel alive the way she did when he held her? He was life, he was the embodiment of passion, colour, vivid and strong and there... She could reach out and touch him and it felt so much better... Would he accept the hatred in her now or would it drown out everything around her, the way it had before, the way it used to...

He'd said he hadn't wanted to let her go. He'd said he didn't want her to leave, that it was for her own sake. Had he meant it? But he didn't look at her the way Lance looked at Kitty, that pride and pleasure that seemed to radiate from him whenevr Kitty was around. Or the way Remy looked at Rogue, that odd sort of awe mixed with possessiveness and a hint of smugness when she spoke to him. John looked at Wanda with pain in his eyes, and a terrible aching sort of desire that wasn't purely carnal and wasn't anything else she'd ever seen. It made her tremble and made her breath catch – she knew she wanted him to look at her like that but not what it meant. But it couldn't be love. She knew she loved Freddy and Lance and the boys, she loved Pietro despite his betrayal, she wanted to love him, forgive him. She could see Kitty and Lance loved each other, and Remy and Rogue weren't far behind, their love fresh and passionate and undiscovered where Lance and Kitty settled into each other's lives in a more eternal sort of way that told of the length of their commitment. John couldn't love her though – she didn't know what love felt like but it couldn't be this aching longing feeling in the pit of her stomach or the burning warmth inside her whenever they were together. The bittersweet sensation that she could feel his touch for hours after he'd left her. It was too painful to be love, love was meant to be some joyous thing. Fairytales and TV had the right kind of idea. Love wsn't meant to hurt. Things that hurt were bad. She wasn't in love... And neither was he. If he looked at her with that searing, painful look in his eyes, he couldn't love her. If they weren't happy they couldn't love. Maybe she couldn't love lik that at all – never would. Maybe she wasn't meant to.

The faces kept coming and she sorted through them wearily, wishing they would go away and leave her in peace, but she kept returning to look at his blue eyes and the smile he'd kissed her with, and she couldn't help wishing she knew what love felt like.

~*************************************************************~

He continued to be amazed by his patients, he truly did. At about the same time as John woke up again, Wanda began to glow a faint, pleasant blue colour that spread through the med bay and tingled when you came into contact with it. The Australian former-terrorist was watching the display with an expression of apprehension on his face. The monitor above Wanda's bed registered a calmer, steadier heart-rate than it had before, and Hank smiled, pleased, as he stepped towards her and looked down at her face. Where before it had been void of expression she now had a little furrow between her brows and she no longer appeared wholly lifeless. He looked to John who had propped himself up on his elbow and was looking at her, transfixed.

"She is very pretty, isn't she son?"

"Is she alive?" Hank stared at him, surprised by the question.

"Yes, yes she is... She'll be fine..." John closed his eyes with a sigh and laid his head back on the pillow.

"Then she's beautiful..." Hank supressed a smile at that, reminding himself that he was privy to things John himself was not properly aware of, and covered it up by clearing his throat. The light around Wanda dimmed and disappeared, her face settling into calmer folds, but her breathing remained strong.

"Are you up to seeing the Professor?" John nodded.

"Talking painful, is it?" Another nod.

"Yes, it would be... It would appear you've managed to damage it somehow, there was a minor reflux of blood earlier. I don't think the damage is too severe though."

"Brilliant."

"I'll call down the Professor to speak with you then..." The youth did not respond or look at him, keeping his eyes closed, and only Hank's experience with sleeping patients in the past let him ascertain that he was in fact even still awake.

And so he was ten minutes later when Charles came in and parked by his bedside, a smile on his face.

"Mr. Allerdyce, I see you are with us once again. Feeling better, I hope?" The young man shrugged, blue eyes dim and distant, and Charles knew he was gauging how much they knew already.

"We were able to provide you with the correct medications needed to control your condition, I hope you do not mind that we took such a liberty."

"Used ta bein' medicated 'gainst m' will. Doesn' matter," John mumbled, and Charles sighed.

"You are only here because we found you unconscious outside the Brotherhood house and you proved unresponsive to all stimuli. Tests show that you have not been taking your medication lately and we feared that might have led to greater susceptibility of mental damage from Wanda's psychic projection. We brought you here to make certain that you would wake up." The Australian youth didn't respond at all.

"St. John – "

"I shouldn' be 'ere," he interrupted, and Charles raised an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"Don' belong 'ere. Don' belong anywhere. Is Wanda goin' ta be alrigh'?" Charles nodded.

"We believe so. We certainly all hope so. That is what I wished to speak with you about."

"Abou' Wanda? Ask 'er brother."

"I am asking you, St. John."

"Mum called me that... Y' know all abou' me, don' you?" Charles regarded the detached look on the boy's face with interest.

"We know enough to have been able to help you, St. John. None of us here was looking to invade your privacy at any point – all we know is what we needed to be able to help you. Keep you alive, if you will." An empty smile crept onto the lad's face.

"Don' see what use I am t' you."

"Do you wish to be of use to us? Help us?" The boy didn't speak.

"All I ask of you is that you relax and allow me to look at your memories of what happened earlier with Wanda." John flinched.

"Will it help her?"

"Maybe. We are hoping that it will." John closed his eyes and then looked over at Wanda.

"My head's not a good place ta be," he said warily, and the Professor nodded.

"I know that, St. John, but I also know that you care for Wanda's health and that you would want her to be well again. Now will you help us?"

"For her. I'll do it for her. And then I'll have ta leave you blokes," the Aussie said reasonably, and Charles looked across to Hank.

"Leave Wanda here alone?"

"She won't want me around, Prof. Trus' me."

"I see... Well then if you'll close your eyes and relax, I will see if I can gain anything from your recollection of what happened earlier, shall I?" John complied and Hank saw Charles' face settle into the familiar grooves that signalled his powers were in use.

He left the room only to be joined by Charles moments later, the other man's face expressionless, deep in thought.

"What did you learn, Charles?" His friend seemed to shake himself out of the thought process and looked up at him.

"Oh – I saw the extent of his affections for the girl and I have every reason to believe that Remy and Rogue are telling the truth. He is in love with Wanda. He is also resisting it and I could only find two reasons, one an irrational fear that she will leave him eventually which I imagine is simply residual delusion, and the other that he is certain that he will at some stage cause her pain and so he will not allow himself to get closer to her."

"Noble, if irrational."

"I believe there is a great deal of nobility to this boy, however irrational he may be. I also saw a good deal of haziness in connection to his emotions which I believe is caused by the different medications. I can well understand that he dislikes being under the influence of them, it was most unpleasant. If you can, lower the dosage a little. I saw to it that he fell asleep again but he will wake shortly. I will send down Remy and Rogue to see him when that happens..." Charles paused suddenly.

"Did you hear that?" Hank poked his head around the door to the med bay and froze.

"Charles.." Manouvering his wheelchair, Charles moved to the doorway and looked in. There, on her bed, sat the Scarlet Witch, knees drawn up to her chin and arms around herself, head bowed in John's direction, weeping bitterly.