A/N: Here we go! Wanda's perspective. (This is really gonna suck.)
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Wanda sat at the bay window. It was her room, formerly her brother's. What was left of them were downstairs, arguing. Since the mansion was gone, the X-Men had to board with them. There was barely any room, especially with the new recruits.
Wanda's POV
Dear brother of mine, have you truly lost your mind? (Cool, I rhymed.) You betrayed me, your own true flesh and blood! Then again, why am I surprised? You always were his favorite, his only true child, his successor. You were with him when he put me away. And you did nothing.
How were those years? All those long, lovely years with him? Your father. I am of no kin to him, not now nor ever I will be. You are kith to me, perhaps it is so, but that does not matter. If I see you I will kill you.
I should have done so on the roof.
I tried, but was distracted by that monster. That won't happen again. I'm sick of sparing you the pain you deserve. The same pain you caused me. What comes around goes around, my brother.
I regret sparing your life many times. I remember how I used to do so when we were little. That little even with the spilt water on the control board comes to mind. I heard you outside the bedroom door. Over the sobs I heard you. You spineless coward.
You were so terrified that he would hurt you. I know for a fact he would've beaten you senseless. But I was the big sis, I took care of you. What did you do for me? Nothing. Not suprising. Look what he did to our mother.
Oh, that's right. You don't know. He recounted that tale to me in graphic detail. Details which I will never tell you, though you deserve the pain. She gave us life. He was angered that she had a daughter and a son, instead of two sons. She gave us life. He took hers.
But he kept me when he saw my power. He wished to harness that power. To strip me of it so as he could have it. He tried once. Why do you think I lost control? Why my anger overtook me? I'm sure he gave you some asinine explanation. I have no doubt that you bought it.
He had always blamed me for the mishaps that happened. If something went wrong it was my fault. You never said anything. You let him do it. There's the argument that you were too young to have a say or do anything. You could have at least taken the blame for the ones you did.
Do I hate you? That's a tougher question than it seems; tougher than I would've thought. Most of my anger comes from my hatred of him. Some of that anger just rebounded onto you because you are like him; and because sometimes you were the cause of his rejection to me. I can't honestly say that I hate you. But it seems a great burden would be lifted if you were gone. Some of that pain released.
Then a strange, and foreign thought comes to my mind: I do care about you, brother. It comes back to me from when we were little. A small grain of the feeling that I felt for you then appears to surface. I almost like it.
Back then, you were my best friend. My only one, for we weren't allowed with other children. Perhaps that factor is why we each have a higher understanding of things: childhood held nothing for us like it did for others. We had to grow up fast. If we wanted to survive.
Survive. That was one of my only thoughts back at that asylum. To survive. That thought alone would keep me going for days on end. Especially when my anger overtook me completely.
The Professor had been coming to see me for some time. He tried to convince me that yes, Magneto was bad, but I need not hate him the way I did. He thought he understood. He could never understand.
Only one person has ever understood me. You. Not surprising. Like I mentioned before, we have a higher understanding of things. Perhaps its the fact that we are twins, only twenty seconds apart. We grew up together. Told each other things. Knew what was about to happen to the other before it did.
I can feel you know. I sense your fright. You are afraid of something, or someone, but I'm not sure what. Him? I doubt you are frightened of me, you never were. Nor am I scared of you. I bow down to no one. Never again will I make such a mistake. To quote a famous phrase that you enjoy so much, you and friends, DTA brother. Don't. Trust. Anyone.
Why am I so angry? At you and at him? In all honesty I don't know. Regret is a powerful thing. It drives the anger, and the anger feeds on it. Can I stop it? Yes. Will I? Never. It's the only thing that keeps me going. Keeps me surviving.
I remember when you first saw me after all those years. You were startled, and thrown off guard. Were you scared? Possibly. All I know is that you were intent on surviving when you dove behind the couch. Survival is always the issue. The question is, is worth surviving?
To be, or not to be, brother? Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow..... We are such things that dreams are made on. Shakespeare would regret that last phrase now. 'We are such things that nightmares feed on...' would suit the world better now. The world, or just us?
Dear brother of mine, have you lost your mind? I can see why you are lost. Why we all are lost.... Curse of mine, is it not? Lost and found. I know why. Do you? Or is that just another wish? Starlight, starbright.
Will we survive? There's only one way to find out..... Come on, I dare you to try. Bring him along. I would want him there. You know what they say.... Two out of three ain't bad....
Deaths.....
A/N2: I figured that Wanda wouldn't know that Pietro was dumped off somewhere, so I didn't give her that knowledge. And forgive the rambling thoughts. But seriously, knowing here, do you think they would be straight and clear?
------------------
Wanda sat at the bay window. It was her room, formerly her brother's. What was left of them were downstairs, arguing. Since the mansion was gone, the X-Men had to board with them. There was barely any room, especially with the new recruits.
Wanda's POV
Dear brother of mine, have you truly lost your mind? (Cool, I rhymed.) You betrayed me, your own true flesh and blood! Then again, why am I surprised? You always were his favorite, his only true child, his successor. You were with him when he put me away. And you did nothing.
How were those years? All those long, lovely years with him? Your father. I am of no kin to him, not now nor ever I will be. You are kith to me, perhaps it is so, but that does not matter. If I see you I will kill you.
I should have done so on the roof.
I tried, but was distracted by that monster. That won't happen again. I'm sick of sparing you the pain you deserve. The same pain you caused me. What comes around goes around, my brother.
I regret sparing your life many times. I remember how I used to do so when we were little. That little even with the spilt water on the control board comes to mind. I heard you outside the bedroom door. Over the sobs I heard you. You spineless coward.
You were so terrified that he would hurt you. I know for a fact he would've beaten you senseless. But I was the big sis, I took care of you. What did you do for me? Nothing. Not suprising. Look what he did to our mother.
Oh, that's right. You don't know. He recounted that tale to me in graphic detail. Details which I will never tell you, though you deserve the pain. She gave us life. He was angered that she had a daughter and a son, instead of two sons. She gave us life. He took hers.
But he kept me when he saw my power. He wished to harness that power. To strip me of it so as he could have it. He tried once. Why do you think I lost control? Why my anger overtook me? I'm sure he gave you some asinine explanation. I have no doubt that you bought it.
He had always blamed me for the mishaps that happened. If something went wrong it was my fault. You never said anything. You let him do it. There's the argument that you were too young to have a say or do anything. You could have at least taken the blame for the ones you did.
Do I hate you? That's a tougher question than it seems; tougher than I would've thought. Most of my anger comes from my hatred of him. Some of that anger just rebounded onto you because you are like him; and because sometimes you were the cause of his rejection to me. I can't honestly say that I hate you. But it seems a great burden would be lifted if you were gone. Some of that pain released.
Then a strange, and foreign thought comes to my mind: I do care about you, brother. It comes back to me from when we were little. A small grain of the feeling that I felt for you then appears to surface. I almost like it.
Back then, you were my best friend. My only one, for we weren't allowed with other children. Perhaps that factor is why we each have a higher understanding of things: childhood held nothing for us like it did for others. We had to grow up fast. If we wanted to survive.
Survive. That was one of my only thoughts back at that asylum. To survive. That thought alone would keep me going for days on end. Especially when my anger overtook me completely.
The Professor had been coming to see me for some time. He tried to convince me that yes, Magneto was bad, but I need not hate him the way I did. He thought he understood. He could never understand.
Only one person has ever understood me. You. Not surprising. Like I mentioned before, we have a higher understanding of things. Perhaps its the fact that we are twins, only twenty seconds apart. We grew up together. Told each other things. Knew what was about to happen to the other before it did.
I can feel you know. I sense your fright. You are afraid of something, or someone, but I'm not sure what. Him? I doubt you are frightened of me, you never were. Nor am I scared of you. I bow down to no one. Never again will I make such a mistake. To quote a famous phrase that you enjoy so much, you and friends, DTA brother. Don't. Trust. Anyone.
Why am I so angry? At you and at him? In all honesty I don't know. Regret is a powerful thing. It drives the anger, and the anger feeds on it. Can I stop it? Yes. Will I? Never. It's the only thing that keeps me going. Keeps me surviving.
I remember when you first saw me after all those years. You were startled, and thrown off guard. Were you scared? Possibly. All I know is that you were intent on surviving when you dove behind the couch. Survival is always the issue. The question is, is worth surviving?
To be, or not to be, brother? Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow..... We are such things that dreams are made on. Shakespeare would regret that last phrase now. 'We are such things that nightmares feed on...' would suit the world better now. The world, or just us?
Dear brother of mine, have you lost your mind? I can see why you are lost. Why we all are lost.... Curse of mine, is it not? Lost and found. I know why. Do you? Or is that just another wish? Starlight, starbright.
Will we survive? There's only one way to find out..... Come on, I dare you to try. Bring him along. I would want him there. You know what they say.... Two out of three ain't bad....
Deaths.....
A/N2: I figured that Wanda wouldn't know that Pietro was dumped off somewhere, so I didn't give her that knowledge. And forgive the rambling thoughts. But seriously, knowing here, do you think they would be straight and clear?
