A/N: Here is part three. Sorry it took so long! I hope it lives up to reviewers' expectations. One note: this fic assumes that Pietro knows that Magneto is his father, but the X-Men and the rest of the Brotherhood do not.
Disclaimer: Don't I wish?
Part Three: Do you know where your father is?
Pietro stared at the ceiling without seeing it. The X-Men had put him in a bed in the medical ward and treated his arm. It was broken, as he had feared. Then they had left him alone to his thoughts – or maybe they just wanted to get as far away from their enemy as possible. Still, Pietro had no doubts that he was under guard. He had heard murmured conversation outside his room at hourly intervals, and he was sure that the ching of metal he heard was from Wolverine's deadly claws.
It had been late when he arrived at the mansion. Now it was approaching midnight and still the white-haired mutant could not sleep. His mind whirred incessantly. The Professor had told Pietro that Cerebro would have to wait until the next day, as it required intense concentration that he claimed he could not perform at such a late hour. Ha, thought Pietro. He just wants to talk it over with Wolf-man and the weather witch before he helps me, if he decides to help me at all.
Pietro still couldn't quite believe he was alive. Well, not surprised that he was alive, precisely – he didn't think that Professor Xavier would allow anyone to kill him in cold blood – but surprised that they hadn't taken one look at him and slammed the door in his face. Actually, if they had sent me away, it would have been the equivalent to a death sentence, Pietro mused. Without medical treatment the mutant would not have lasted long, especially with mutant hunters out for his blood.
The doors of his room slid open and Jean walked in. Pietro gave her a sardonic smile, which she ignored. He grinned to himself. Here was someone he could deal with. "Who's on guard now?" he asked, enjoying the shocked expression that crossed her face. "And don't play dumb. There's been someone out there since I got here."
Jean drew herself up and tossed her hair back. She was determined not to show that Pietro had surprised her. "Scott," she answered simply, and walked over to a cabinet.
She pulled out a jar of powder and mixed it with a glass of water. She held it out to Pietro. "Drink this," she instructed.
Pietro eyed the cloudy water. "Uh uh," he said firmly.
"There is no way I'm drinking that. What did you put in it?" It's probably
poisoned.
"It isn't poisoned," Jean snapped.
I wish she wouldn't do that, Pietro thought. "Ooh, touchy. Looks like someone's up too late. I'd say it's past your bedtime."
She sighed. "If our goal was to kill you we would have done it already. No one is going to try poisoning you at this point, okay? The powder will help you sleep and bolster your immune system so you can recover faster." When Pietro just stared at her suspiciously, she said, "Look, I'll leave it here. You don't have to drink it." She left. Pietro could hear her talking quietly to Scott as she shut the door.
Stupid X-freaks, Pietro thought. Do they think I'm stupid or something? The boy had already spent the better part of the last hour kicking himself for showing weakness in front of Professor Xavier. How had he forgotten the most basic of Magneto's lessons? He could almost hear his instructor's voice – Never show weakness. Your enemies can and will exploit every emotion you possess. It was a good thing Magneto would never find out. He was not at all anxious to be retrained – the lessons had been hard enough the first time.
Now that the pain in his arm wasn't as fierce, he had fully regained control over his unruly emotions. He sniffed in disgust at the way Xavier had pretended to care about his teammates.
Worry coursed through him at the thought of his friends. Stop
that, he told himself firmly. They're fine. They have to be fine.
For a minute visions of his friends' beaten, bloody faces overwhelmed him.
He forced away the sick memories. Think about it. What could possibly happen
to them that would penetrate their thick skulls? Fred probably hasn't even
realized he's hurt yet. Their brains don't register fast enough to feel pain.
Pietro clenched his fists and stifled a scream. He couldn't stand this. He couldn't take any more of this lying awake, worrying and wondering. Wondering if any of his teammates had survived the night…He glanced at the clock. Five minutes?!? Only five minutes had passed since Jean had left him. At times like this it was a curse to have a mind that operated at least five times as fast as the average person's.
He sat up and fought back a yell as pain lanced up his arm. He was past caring about whether it was a trap or not – he staggered to the counter and downed the glass of cloudy water, still sitting where Jean had left it. The drugs took effect almost immediately. He struggled back to the bed as his eyes closed. She could have at least left the glass closer to the bed, he thought vaguely before falling asleep at last.
* * *
"The boy is asleep," announced Professor Xavier. The news caused a general relaxation of the mutants sitting around the Professor's desk. Xavier sighed and leaned his head in his hands. "Now we need to decide what to do with him."
"I don't trust him," growled Logan. He paced back and forth next to the window. "How do we even know he's telling the truth? This whole thing could be a setup!"
"He's telling the truth, Logan. I could tell that just by looking at him," Ororo said. "The boy was terrified, and those injuries certainly are real."
Logan was about to argue when the Professor cut in. "Yes, he did tell the truth about the attack. I know that for a fact."
"All right, so he was attacked," said Logan. "So what? It could still be a setup. What if the hunters followed him here? What if this is all a plan to get him inside the mansion?"
"If it is, then he has better mind control then anyone I have ever met, myself included. I have monitored his thoughts since he arrived. He has thought only of his quest for help and the condition of his teammates." The Professor hesitated. "I –" He stopped.
"What is it, Charles?" Logan asked.
"I am very worried about the other members of the Brotherhood," Xavier admitted. "There has not been time for them to have gotten too far away, but I cannot sense them."
"Does that mean what I think it means?" Ororo asked.
"Not necessarily. They could merely be unconscious. Still, Pietro's memories indicate that they are in desperate need of medical attention. I fear that we could be too late to save them."
"So we are going to help him," Ororo observed, a slight frown creasing her features. "Is that wise?"
"They're our enemies, Charles," Logan said.
"I know that, Logan. But can any of us really let them be killed like this? They are still only children. They deserve better than that."
Ororo looked hard at him. "You want them to join us, don't you? You want them to have a reason to join us."
"That had occurred to me," Xavier admitted.
"Won't happen. Those kids have had Magneto's anti-human religion drilled into their heads for too long. They won't want to join us," Logan declared.
"But don't we have to at least try?" Ororo asked.
Logan paced, thinking hard. "It'll be too dangerous. The hunters will probably want to execute the Brotherhood publicly. Too many humans, too much security. We can't risk the kids in that," he growled finally.
"That remains to be seen," said the Professor. "We still have agreed to tell Pietro Mystique's location. After that we can decide what to do."
"Why did he ask you to find Mystique?" Ororo asked. "Why not the location of his friends?"
"He knows he cannot hope to rescue them on his own," the Professor answered. "He wants to have backup. Our dilemma may solve itself – Mystique may be enough to rescue the Brotherhood. If that is so, we will not have to involve ourselves at all.
"Now, I think that everyone should go to bed."
* * *
Pietro drummed his fingers on the table. The drugs had succeeded in putting him out for a few hours – he had woken up around seven. Jean had expressed some shock at coming in and finding him awake, as the drug was supposed to last longer. She couldn't know that Magneto had been building up immunity to certain drugs in his minions, especially those that could be used to render someone unconscious. Now he sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the X-Men to finish eating.
The hushed talk and many glances in his direction had not escaped his notice. In his attempt to ignore them, he had eaten at a pace that would choke many people. It was normal for him, though he usually slowed down when eating with the Brotherhood. The X-Men were making him nervous.
The drumming increased speed as he stared at Professor Xavier. Could anyone eat any slower? he wondered. Luckily for him, it was not very difficult to eat using only one hand. His eye strayed to look at each of the X-Men in turn. As a whole, they are definitely not morning people, he thought. Their silence was starting to creep him out.
Professor Xavier put down his fork. Pietro's eyes zoomed in on him immediately. The Professor looked around the table much as Pietro had done, and then looked directly at him. "All right, Pietro. I'm going to search for Mystique now. You can wait in the living room." He wheeled backwards and away from the table. "I'll show you where it is."
Pietro followed the Professor down the hall into the living room. He plopped down on a sofa, noting the quality of the fabric. Impressive.
"It shouldn't take too long. Make yourself comfortable." The
Professor turned to leave. He was almost out the door when the windows flew
open with a bang. Pietro whirled around to see…Magneto? As he gaped,
Magneto looked at him and spoke.
"Pietro. I am disappointed to see you in such company. Surely you have not forgotten your lessons?"
Gasps filled the room as the other X-Men came in to see what the problem was. He could feel accusatory stares on his back, but he ignored them. "If it bothers you so much, why didn't you find me earlier? What took you so long? I only came here because there was nowhere else to go." Pietro snapped. His impatience revived by the realization that he didn't have to act on the X-Men's terms, Pietro didn't wait for Magneto to answer. "Do you know where the others are? What happened to Mystique, anyway?"
Magneto held up a hand. "Still impatient, I see," he said solemnly. "You need to learn when it is best to stay silent."
For some reason, Pietro was in no mood for Magneto's all-powerful, mysterious act. He felt only irritation that his boss had arrived, when he should have been smug and arrogant that Magneto had come for him. He said crossly, "When I find a time like that, I'll think about it. So did you find them or not?"
"Of course I found them. How could you think otherwise?"
Pietro's eyes widened. He hadn't expected Magneto to know. "Well, where are they then? Why didn't you bring them? How badly are they hurt?"
"They are still with the humans," Magneto said. "Where else would they be?"
"What? You know where they are and you haven't saved them
yet? What are you waiting for? Let's move!" Déjà vu, he thought. This
conversation was a lot like the one he had with Magneto when the older mutant
had gotten him out of jail.
"Why would I want to rescue them? They are weak. They allowed themselves to be captured and did not adequately prepare their lodging for attack. I have no use for people who cannot protect themselves."
Pietro was sure he had heard Magneto wrong. "You're just going to leave them there?" he asked incredulously.
Magneto looked at the silver-haired boy condescendingly. "Really, Pietro, I thought you of all mutants would know me well enough not to ask that. This attack was an opportunity to see what you all were made of. You survived and have proven yourself worthy. The others did not. The only service they can be to me now is that their deaths will bring more mutants to our cause. They can be easily replaced."
Pietro was finding it hard to breathe. Magneto couldn't mean that. He couldn't. Something clicked in his head then: why Mystique hadn't come to see them, and why the attack was an "opportunity". His voice shook as he asked, "You planned this?" He didn't really need an answer. "You planned this! You told the hunters where we were! That's why Mystique didn't find out and tell us. This was a test!"
"Very good, Pietro. You have passed with flying colors."
The confirmation of his wild accusation made his head spin. Anger filled him, anger that turned to rage as he continued to think about it. "How could you do that?" Pietro exploded. "They fought for you and were ready to die for what you made them believe in! They might be dead now! I could easily have died!"
"I'm aware of that. Really, Pietro, it wouldn't be a test without some risk."
"You were ready to let me die!" Pietro cried out. "Didn't you even care?" His throat was closing up with emotion. He stared as Magneto looked impassively down at him. It was all the answer he needed. "Father!" he cried, pain coating his voice. "How could you? How could you do that to me? To me!" Exclamations of shock, which he ignored, filled the room.
Magneto frowned. "I warned you about calling me that. You will have to relearn that particular lesson. Now," Magneto said, reaching a hand towards the shaking boy, "we must leave. We have a destiny to fulfill."
"No way!" Pietro screamed. His mind whirled and all he could think of was run, run, run! "I am so out of here!" He turned, blew past the gathered X-Men and in a split second was out the door. He didn't know where he was going – and what did it matter? What was left for him now? How could he? He didn't care if his own son lived or died…he didn't care if I died! He didn't even care! Anger and deep, heart-wrenching pain kept him from breathing for a brief moment, and he stopped.
Tears threatened to overwhelm him now, but he forced them back. That was one lesson he had learned very well. A Maximoff – or more appropriately, a Magnus – never cries.
Whew! That took work. Do you want the next (and probably last) part? Please review.