Disclaimer: I own . . . EVERYTHING (insert maniacal laughter here) . . . in my perfect little fantasy world anyway. In this one I own nothing. Shit.

A/N: Ok, so I'm changing some events around from the second season. This is because New Zealand hasn't gotten the second season yet, anyway (the TV station's too cheap to buy it). Therefore, I'm allowed. I think someone said ppl go home for Christmas. In this little world, home comes to them, OK? ^_^

PS, I know these chapters are short, but there is a reason. I can't be stuffed writing long ones. Sorry!

" . . . " = SPEECH

. . . = THOUGHTS

^ . . . ^ = TELEPATHY

EPITAPH ON A LAP-DOG

Chapter 2: @ Your heavy loss deplore;

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There's one thing you need to realise about the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. They're just like you. WE are just like you. That's why I'm telling you this.

Have you ever noticed how you don't realise how much you love something - or someone - until they're gone? How one day they're there, annoying the crap outta you, and the next they're the only thing you can think about. They're still annoying you, but in a different way. And the only way you can ever get away from their memory is to either get them back, or forget them forever. To deal with the loss and move on. I've never really been one for action, neither has Freddy or Lance. We all just kinda put the loss in a dark place and never look at it again. It usually works pretty well. Usually. I guess that's why I'm writing in this Diary, because someone needs to know how it happened. I need to tell some one WHY.

Pietro's a strange guy. One minute he's hyperactive-narcissistic-mutant- boy, and the next he's saying something so unbelievably profound it doesn't quite seem real. I remember him telling me about HER, the one who did this to us. The one that made everything fall apart. He really missed her. It was like a part of _him _ had been taken away, some hole inside that he couldn't quite fill up. That was the only time he ever talked about her, just him and me sitting on the sagging veranda. He told me he would never stop looking for her, no-matter what. Never.

I'm telling you this from the seat I managed to claim on our old, crumbling sofa. Lance is trying to beat Freddy at Tekken 3 - no small feat. For someone of his stature, Freddy is really quite skilled at that sorta thing. The coffee table's still broken - the crack I made when I was swinging from the light would cost more than our lovely abode to fix. The hole in the ceiling under Pietro's bed, or what USED to be Pietro's bed, would be even more.

Used to be Pietro's bed. Keywords: used to be. Past tense. It no longer has an occupant. It's empty, vacant, unfilled - like the room surrounding it, actually. YOU saw what happened at school. The bastard tried to come and sit with us, like nothing had happened. Like he was still our friend. He just sauntered over, King of the world, and smiled. If he wants to be one of THEM, then fine. But he can't be one of us too! Problem is, we still love him. He's our BROTHER! And he deserted us for someone he hasn't seen since he was _three _. Granted, they are twins, but so? The bitch just waltzes into town and steals him away. She doesn't care about him! She LEFT him for a nice cosy foster family, while he got Mr and Mrs Dickwad - raping- pieces-of-shit extrodinaire. Freddy and I have never been hurt like that, neither has that Tabby girl, but Lance understood.

Pietro loves her anyway. Unconditionally. He would follow her to the ends of the earth, and he did. Or, at least, as close as anyone can get - The X- Mansion.

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Why the fuck am I doing this?

"Pietro! Come on! We're, like, totally starting now!" Ugh, Kitty Pryde. Wanda can go screw herself. I'm NOT doing this!

"Maximoff! Whadda ya think your doing?"

"None of your business, Shades." Pietro, did an about face and stalked rather deliberately to his room. It was HUGE, but it just didn't feel right. They don't know I found the camera. They'll never trust me. The small device had been hidden in a corner, supposedly out of sight. You could see it a dawn, though, when the sunlight hit it just right. It was now covered with a seemingly innocent poster. Pietro sighed, his jaw creaking with the effort it cost him not to scream with frustration. He had never felt this way at home. He had never had to put on a 'Christmas Concert' for his lovely roommates' parents, either. It's funny, but I don't think this place will ever be home to me. Pietro sighed - Wanda had changed. She's not my sister anymore. The realisation hit the speedster hard. I've lost my sister forever, and now my brothers too. A single tear rolled down his pale cheek. Skin was stretched tightly over bone, brilliant cerulean eyes dulled with endless nights of insomnia. No one here had noticed to boy, already thin, was loosing weight. Fast. No one had noticed him in the bathroom late at night, the contents of his stomach emptying themselves into the basin, his limbs shaking with the hurt. Or maybe they have, and they just don't care. But it was better than being in a hospital. This place was cold, but it wasn't sterile.

Thundering on the door snapped Pietro out of his reverie just as Wanda burst in. Her long, curly, scarlet hair was loose, flowing over her shoulders and down her back. Her face, slightly rounder than his own, was masked in a fierce scowl. Pietro almost cowered. "What the hell are you doing! We're waiting for you!"

"Fuck off, Wanda. I'm not singing for a bunch of snotty pricks." He didn't feel well enough for this! "You and your little friends will be fine without me."

"Pietro! You promised!" Wanda pulled a pout that would have been worth an Oscar, wringing her hands and doing a washing-machine impression. "Pleeeeeeeeeeease?"

Grrrrrrrr "No!" When did she get so naggy?

"But you're the only one with any talent1" Wandas brother straightened a little.

"Well . . . can't disagree there, but sti-"

"Great! Come on!" With that she pulled Pietro downstairs and into the drawing room.

Who the fuck has a drawing room anyway?

"He's heeeeeeeeeeeere!"

Shit His guitar was thrust roughly into his hands as he sat down heavily and sighed. I'm sighing a lot these days . . . "Spend your lazy, endless crazy . . ."

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"None of your business, Shades." Quicksilver turned and retreated into his room, slamming the door behind himself.

That little shit's up to something, I swear. What's up his ass anyway? Scott trudged downstairs. "Hey Wanda! Your brother's chickening out on us. You'd better go get him before Logan finds out."

He stared at the girls departing back, thinking. He's only here because of her. Wow, he must really love her, even if he is an egotistical wanker. Oh, well. I'd better go get everyone into the drawing room. Hmmm, why the hell do we have a drawing room? Oooooo, look. There's Rogue. _She's _ cute, not Duncan. Duncan looks like a pig. Duncan _is _ a pig. His beady little eyes are just like a little piggys. Nah, nah, nah naaaaaaaaah nah. Pig boy! Duncan=Pig, Duncan=Pig, Duncan= . . .

^Getting a bit repetitive, are we Scotty?^ Jeans smirk didn't quite fit under the hand she used to hit it.

Bitch

"He's heeeeeeeeeeeere!" Wanda came in dragging a VERY pissed-looking Quicksilver. Bobby shoved a guitar into the blonde mutants his hand as he flopped into a chair. The boy sighed as he settled himself. "Spend your lazy, endless crazy . . ."

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-annoying narrator voice- What will happen with Scott and Duncan? ~shudder~ What's wrong with Pietro? Will the brotherhood forgive him? Find out next time on . . . Epitaph On A . . .ah, fuckit!'

(Insert theme music here)



A/N: There you have it. Chapter Two. Ta Da! Luv it, hate it, whatever. Plz r/r. Cheers.