Here we go, another chapter. I know I've been betraying the slash element recently and not including much Lance/Pietro goodness, but the plot got in the way! Rest assured there is more to come – this chapter is just advancing the plot. And thank you so much for my lovely reviews, you (and an stonking great case of writer's block!) are what keeps me going.

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There it was: her baby bracelet. It was hard to believe that something so tiny could carry this much meaning . She had almost forgotten who she was, hellbent on creating a new identity that didn't burn her with its memories. Wanda – even the name seemed alien. Wanda was a happy little girl, Daddy's princess, the cleverer twin. It all went wrong, and when Daddy and Pietro went out of the picture, she felt that she had vanished too.

She trailed the little silver bracelet through her fingers like sand. Father had kept it, should that mean anything? If he hated her he'd have thrown it away, or more likely sold it. Was he trying to keep a little piece of her? And did that really make it alright, to still love her and let her live in a cell with nobody to hold her?

Pietro was pacing, fidgeting, jabbering. Wanda, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda! Shit, what would Erik think? Was she dangerous, would she launch a long-overdue hex attack on the pair of them?

He came right up close to her, judging whether to put a hand on her shoulder. It was now or never.

'Wanda, I am so so sorry for... y'know. Honestly, neither of us wanted it to turn out that way. But what could we do? '

No, no, no. She did not want to hear this right now. For years she had rehearsed this conversation in her mind, imagining the great reconcilation. Now it just filled her with bitterness and anxiety.

'Wanda... sis... What the hell did they do to you in that place? I never thought I'd see you again.'

She clenched her hand tight around the bracelet, afraid.

'You said you thought I was dead,' she said, pronouncing the words very clearly to disguise her fear. 'Did you want me to be?'

Pietro let out a strangled gasp. 'No! No. Wanda, this is what I've always dreamed of... I'm kind of freaked in case this is just a trip from all my medication.'

Her eyes narrowed , darkening to a rich violet.

'C'm'on, Wanda,' Pietro said softly, aching to hold her hand. 'We're twins. I can feel you right here,' he pointed to his heart. 'And you're the only person who wouldn't think that was stupid or gross, 'cos I know you feel it too.'

She nodded her head mechanically, over and over again, her eyes were spilling over.

'Empty,' she whispered. 'I felt so empty there and I cried all the time hoping you would hear me.'

Another strangled noise escaped Pietro, and she realised that it was a sob. She reached out to him.

'Will you be my brother again?'

He didn't reply in words, but he opened his arms and let her fall into his embrace. It felt like water finally quenching a fire, flowing freely over smoke and ash. They cried together for each other, and for a lost past.

...

'Don't ask stupid questions, just fucking come with me!'

Lance was at the end of his tether. Here he was, trying to break some life-changing (and in Speedy's case, possibly life-saving) news and nobody seemed to be remotely interested.

Trying to tear Erik away from the lab had been increasingly more difficult. He'd sit for hours at the computer, trying to break codes. Half a day could be spent trying to mix one chemical solution, and then an entire night would be devoted to trying to separate it. Lance began to suspect that Erik had sewn a white coat to all of his shirts, just for easy access.

'Lance, I'm in the middle of a scientific breakthrough,' Erik sighed, none too pleased to be disturbed.

Lance rolled his eyes. 'Erik, please? This is so unbelievably important – it's, like, ground-breaking news.'

Erik raised an eyebrow. 'Like, ground-breaking news eh?'

'Ugh,' Lance grunted, shaking off his verbal Kitty Pryde attack. 'But yeah, seriously, it's a huge discovery. I think I've found the key to saving Pietro, but you gotta see it to believe it.'

Finally, Erik took off his goggles. 'Okay, Lance. On one condition, though.'

Lance grinned, glowing with excitement. 'Anything you want, sir.'

'I'm driving,' Erik replied firmly, daring Lance to defy him. 'No way I am I getting in that piece of crap you call a Jeep.'

...

Wanda pulled herself away from her brother, anxiously searching his face for clues.

'Something's wrong with you,' she said quietly. 'I knew it.'

Crap, Pietro thought. This is not a good time to be dying. All these years waiting to see Wanda again, and when you finally do you're skinny and pale on a goddamn heart monitor with a verbal death sentence! Mind you, she wasn't looking too gorgeous...

'But you're not okay either,' he said. 'It's like something's missing...'

She nodded shyly, wishing she could put her guard back up. 'Something weird happened to me a while back,' she replied. 'I woke up and my powers had gone. I guess I'm not a mutant anymore. I came to get help, I was so freaked out and I didn't who to – Pietro?' She paused, because her brother's jaw had almost collided with the floor.

'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,' he babbled, beginning to pace again. 'You're not dead, you're just not a mutant anymore – that's why Baldy couldn't trace you on that stupid computer of his. Oh my god, I knew it! I knew it! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?!' he cried wildly, clutching at his hair. Suspecting he may have been a little melodramatic and possibly camper than a supercool sex god brother should be, he turned calmly towards his sister.

'Wanda,' he said. 'Look.'

At first, she didn't see anything. She saw his pale, bony fingers flex. She saw his face screw up in concentration, a strangely familiar gleam building up in his eyes. And then – sparks! Blue sparks – little bolts that spoke to her, little bolts of herself.

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. Pietro had her powers. He had her powers. HE HAD HER POWERS? Was it not enough to take their father and a comfy home and financial security? Pietro had the good looks, the talent, and now the only tiny thing that was ever truly hers had been claimed by him! What next, would he havea sex change so he could be a better girl than her? Was nothing at all fair in Wanda Maxioff's dingy, crazy, witchy little life?

'Er, Wanda?' Pietro asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 'Are you okay?'

'How the hell did you get my powers?' she growled, poking a finger into his chest.

(Thank fuck I've got them right now, Pietro thought.)

'I-I-I-I-I didn't w-want them!' Pietro protested, noticing how afraid he was of his sister even now. One glare of hers was a thousand times worse than any needle that had been pressed into him, stronger than any burning medicine he'd had to take or even more humiliating than having to use a bedpan in front of Professor X.

'They're making me really sick, Wanda,' he said, suddenly feeling exhausted and dizzy. He swayed on his feet, and despite her anger, Wanda pushed him gently into a chair. The shabby tapestry armchair with drool stains like snail trails on the cushions reminded him how fond he really was of the Brotherhood house – it may be a shithole with no apparent heating, but it was home.

'I know you're ill,' Wanda sighed. 'I could kind of sense it.'

'I'm dying,' Pietro said, and it was only then that the vastness of the situation hit him like a monster truck. 'You lost your powers, somehow they went into my body, and it's killing me. I'm,' and he lowered his voice, scared to admit it. 'I'm scared.'

Pretending to be brave about it had kept everybody positive. Because he didn't want Lance to worry or cry, every day was a joke. He pretended to stick a finger up at death, laughing that he wouldn't need more memorial flowers after the last time he 'died'. He arranged silly pranks for his funeral with Todd, and wrote a smutty obituary for himself. Every time he had sex with Lance, he would quip that it might have been fatal. And though these jokes of his didn't lessen the pain of losing him, he knew they would remember him in a better light. He didn't want to be a loser or show that he was cracking up inside. If he gave people laughter, then he thought he could stop their tears.

Wanda felt a strange mixture of remorse, anger and disgust welling up inside of her. Lab-rats were always bound to fuck up and die. Father's injections and his medicine and his sick eagerness to make them 'invincible' had led to this – first, her powers turned on her and now they were claiming her brother. It made her want to vomit, and hot tears stung her eyes.

'This is our father's fault,' she said in a vengeful whisper. 'This is his lesson.'

...

The Magnetomobile was not quite the vehicle Lance had expected. It seemed that the supervillain had traded in his crazy wheels for a more middle-of-the-road Dad-Car. Even in his mad excitement, Lance couldn't help but be disappointed by Erik's car. It betrayed his inner-child that the Master of Magnetism infact drove a boring, safety-conscious black five-seater. He also had to note that said Master of Magnetism drove rather like a grandad.

Erik seemed to read his mind. 'Were you expecting the Batmobile?' he chuckled.

Lance grinned shyly. He remembered a question he'd always been meaning to ask, that everybody else had dismissed as the dumbest thing they had ever heard. Still, it might break the ice a little.

'Hey, can you drive a car with your powers?'

The older man laughed again. 'No, but I can open a can of beer.'

'Cool party trick,' Lance replied, imagining Erik's infinite domestic abilities. You'd never need a tin-opener with that guy around. Then again, misbehave and he'd be using you as a fridge magnet before you could say 'aluminium'.

There was a slight pause while Erik waited at the traffic lights, taking a moment to look at the young man. What on earth could Lance think was so important? And it really was time that they picked up Pietro, he had missed several doses of different medications and ought to have a meal before he went to bed. Jeez, Erik thought to himself, I am a boring old Dad.

The rest of the journey passed in silence, with the two wondering if they were ever going to bond. As they pulled up to the Brotherhood Boarding House, with its familiar boarded-up windows and mouldy brick, Erik ground his teeth to prevent himself from complaining about the state of the place. He parked the car neatly and followed Lance to the door, hoping all this was really worth it. The house was particularly filthy, and he didn't want Pietro catching anything in his fragile state. Boring Dad mode again, he warned himself. Being cool was something he would have to work on later.

Lance opened the door with a creak, and Erik's stomach immediately dropped in preparation for a nasty surprise. The last time he had felt like this was when he had entered the hospital room,knowing instinctively that his wife was dead – pure cold dread.

'Here we go,' Lance announced, and led him into the living room.

Erik suddenly knew why he had felt so cold. He had known before he'd even seen her. Before he'd walked into the room, those dark blue eyes were searing into his, burning him now with their confrontation: 'Father!'

'Dad,' Pietro led Erik to a chair, seeing how pale and clammy the man had become. Wanda was shaking and twitching, counting silently to overcome her rage. As Erik's lips moved, Pietro noticed that he was counting too, probably to keep himself sane.

'Wanda isn't dead,' Pietro told him, although this may have been blaringly obvious. 'She lost powers, and -'

'That's why Xavier couldn't pick her up on Cerebro!' Lance blurted out, causing all three to look at him in shock. 'Yeah,' he admitted, not used to being the one with the brains. 'Wanda's not a mutant anymore, so Baldy couldn't trace her so you thought she was dead and stuff. But this is actually a really good sign, 'cause if Wanda's lost her powers and Pietro's gained another mutation then...' he trailed off, aware of three pairs of blue eyes glaring into his.

'Sorry,' he muttered, sticking his hands into his pockets dejectedly. 'That's family business.'

Pietro gave him an apologetic smile, looking strangely angelic. 'But Lance is right, we've worked it all out. Dad, I got Wanda's powers when she lost them. Something went wrong with our mutations – you've gotta be able to fix it, right?'

But Erik was too shocked to even nod his head. He had never expected to see his little girl again. And what a cruel twist of fate, a perverted stroke of luck, that she couldn't use her powers to fight him. It hurt him that all she could do was stare , trying to drive all her pain into him with a single look.

Pietro continued. 'Dad, I know this is a massive shock to you. But you need to sort this out. This is your chance to undo all those mistakes you made, I know you can help us both.'

Undo those mistakes... The words struck Erik like a slap in the face. Here were his children: his boy's body failing and his lost daughter cold and silent, with years of pain in her eyes. He had created this, and this sick family reunion was more than a punishment.

Only... was there hope? Please Wanda, he willed silently, hoping she would look at him with more than hurt. A good father would make it all better, replace what was lost and relieve the pain. A good scientist would reverse what he had done and correct any problems. But could he be either?

'Would you let me help you, Wanda?' he asked, feeling sick as he looked straight into her eyes, gagging on his own pride.

First, nothing. Then she nodded so slightly that it was hard to tell if she had moved at all. It was if every inch of her was reluctant to respond to him in case he let her go again. She nodded again, ashamed by her childish need for a father. What she really wanted betrayed her anger and her pain, but the need had always stayed with her.

She opened her arms, and clutched at the man who had hurt her the most.

'It will all be alright now,' Erik soothed, needing to convince himself more than anybody.

They had the answers now, but more importantly, they had each other.