.
If only he had brought the boy in sooner. If only the conversation between Lance and the Professor hadn't lasted so long. If only Pietro had caught his sister with his stomach rather then lungs. If only …
The elderly man shook his head, knowing trying to place blame was useless; he had learned long ago that to think of 'if only's' and 'what if's' did no good.
He watched with a pained expression as the boy's chest moved up and down-- it was a fast motion, unnaturally so. His ribcage looking twisted and bent. Breathing had to be excruciating. The room was silent, save the sound of a painful wheeze every so often. Originally, they'd hand the boy connected to a normal heart monitor, but the noise had become an almost continual high and annoying beep that drove Henry near mad.
So they'd switched it to a small light that blinked with each pump of blood.
The professor wasn't exactly sure why he was in the room, Pietro wasn't in any need of any supervision. But Xavier's powers often worked in mysterious ways, such as this. He became used to following gut instincts without asking an questions, knowing it would almost always be for the best.
The door opened with an all but silent 'whoosh' and he listened as Scott Summers took a few hesitant steps into the room.
"He's really staying here?" The teen asked, not bothering with greeting. The two rarely ever did-- they both knew that Professor X knew of his arrival long before he made it, which made greetings a vain point.
"Yes, Scott he is." Xavier said, turning to face the boy.
He looked a bit queasy. The professor couldn't blame him, he had no clue as to what Pietro, or any other human for that matter, was feeling or really trying to achieve. It only made sense to be suspicious.
Of course, the only indications he was getting from Quicksilver was a dull, steady feeling on anxiety. This was the customary feeling he got from one when they had passed out during a battle. There body was far too tired or damaged to do anything, but their mind was still worried, completely oblivious to the outcome of whatever happened.
"Why, professor?" Scott asked simply. Really, it was all of his questions rolled into one. Scott was very good at doing this, making all his points very concise; others often mistook it for simplicity, but the elder could see the intelligence it took to make things so condensed and brief.
"I would share with you the reason, but I have a feeling it will be up to Pietro to disclose what happens next."
"So, it's up to him if he stays?" Scott asked, looking relieved. Professor X hardly needed to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking-- Pietro would surely say no. The boy would rather live on the street then with the wittily named 'X-Geeks.'
Of course, that was always a possibility, and if Xavier hadn't see the message from Magneto, he would've most likely agreed with Scott.
"Yes, it is." He said. He could still sense unrest inside the younger leader of the X-men. "Scott, if I thought he was any sort of threat to any member of this team, I would not allow him in."
He nodded, the turbulence within only settling slightly. Xavier sighed to himself. It was up to Scott to grow beyond mistrust. But, as he thought before, he understood the doubt.
He barely had time to sense the anxiety fade into confusion before Pietro's eyes flew open.
He stared at the ceiling blankly for a moment, his eyes focusing quickly.
"Good morning, Pietro." Professor X greeted, as it was just past 9 am.
Scott pushed himself further away, but couldn't bring himself to fully exit the room. He -knew- that the professor could easily take care of any problem. But that didn't necessarily mean that he didn't have to be unaware of it.
The blonde made a strangled noise and shook his head-- he was moving too fast, Scott noted. His features were blurring together as he blinked and moved his mouth. Too fast for anyone to really keep up with.
After a moment of confusion, Pietro stilled and looked around. It didn't take a genius to figure out the basics of what had happened.
"How long have I been out?" He finally mumbled, he was probably blinking at a normal pace, but the sight startled Scott. A flash of peach that never lasted, covering questioning silver eyes. "How's Wanda?"
"Just over two days." Xavier provided helpfully. "Your sister's just fine."
"Great." He groaned, moving to sit up at such a pace that he had sat back before his impression was out of the pillow. "Thanks for everything I'm sure you did for me, but I havta go."
"That's wouldn't be wise," Professor Xavier said quickly, referring to the half-hearted efforts Pietro was making to get off the bed.
"Then what would be?" He growled sarcastically.
"Before I tell you the . . . details of your current situation, I believe there's something much more important to--"
"Yeah, yeah, what is it?" Pietro was more then used to long speeches, thanks to his father. He really didn't see the point of using fourteen different words when three would do, unless you said them quickly. Really, he didn't know how Magneto and Xavier spoke-- circling around the subjects for, he was sure, hours on end.
"A message from your father." Xavier said, seemingly unhurt by Pietro's words, unlike Scott who was gritting his teeth and wishing for a hole to a certain place appear in a very -convenient- place.
That shut him up, Scott saw happily.
Pietro stared at Xavier. "Why would he bother to send a message? I'm going right back to him."
"Perhaps you should watch the memorandum."
Pietro frowned. This was hardly what he called a good morning. He was a bit startled when an actual -screen- started lowering from the ceiling,
"Jeez, how many people get injured, if you've actually bothered to install communication systems in the -infirmary-?!" He demanded, his nervousness having to shot off somewhere.
Xavier just smiled shortly. The screen switched on by some mysterious power (which was not at all mysterious, but just Xavier using his annoyingly creepy powers again).
Scott, burning with curiosity, slowly moved over to the other side of the wall, so as to have a clear view of the screen.
Magneto's frozen expression looked impassive. Pietro swallowed nervously, even though this had been recorded a good day ago and hardly any threat to him.
The message started without warning, and he almost missed the first few words of the speech, but he managed to catch it.
"Greetings, Pietro." He paused here, as if expecting some sort of 'Hello' in return. Pietro said nothing and waited for the real meaning of this. "It's obvious, my son, that you have unresolved feelings for Xavier's trifling assemblage." Pietro had to smile. Any -normal- person probably said the word 'Assemblage' maybe once every two years. Not his father. He'd guess he said it once or twice a month-- after all, he hated being repetitive. "You're position among my own ranks will forever remain an open invitation, but I would like for you to explore any other option that you feel to be viable before returning. There is no feeling worse then regret, and I would never wish it on anyone, let alone my own son. I trust Xavier will find no difficulty accommodating with my wish."
"Oh god." Pietro groaned, slumping back down. "He's gonna kill me."
Scott wanted to ask how he could even come to that conclusion, the video had seemed diplomatic and understanding; but he figured Pietro knew his father better then he would.
"So what's wrong with me then?" He asked. "Why am I still hooked up to all this stuff. I should've healed by now."
The old man took a deep breath. This was the part of the boy's awakening that he had dreaded. "Pietro, has anyone ever told you the specifics of your power?"
He shook his head as slowly as he could bare, head throbbing with every movement.
"The processes of your body is so highly enhanced that you no longer have a need to produce fatigue poisons, which forces the body to rest. Rather, your body is in a constant state of driving out waste products while you run, through exhalation." He explained slowly. "The impact of Wanda colliding into your lungs seriously damaged your respiratory system. That alone would be quite the impairment, but you continued to run afterwards. This created an almost . . . blockage in your body. Your body needs to catch up with the waste you built up in addition to healing."
"So you're saying I can't run?" Pietro asked, rather calmly, leaning back into his bed. "But every other part of my body is still stuck on super speed?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"I'm not entirely sure." Professor Xavier said, turning from the bed to glance again at the computer screen that had Pietro's vitals listed, even though it told him nothing he didn't already know. "If you were an average human, or even mutant, I would venture at three to four weeks. But I've never had the chance to examine your body as much as I would've liked."
"I see." He murmured, eyes falling to his hands in thought or acceptance; Scott wasn't sure which.
"I take it that you'll be excepting our invitation?"
"Hn."
Correctly translating the non-committing sound, Xavier turned to leave the room, so as to make the finishing arrangements.
And leaving Scott quite awkwardly alone with one of his only true enemies.
Pietro didn't seem to notice however, continuing to stare dully at the most amazing spectacle of blood pumping through his fingers.
Scott didn't like this-- the Quicksilver he knew would hardly take all of this so lightly. He'd throw a fit, whine and punch things. Of course, he had never really bothered to talk to Pietro, outside of battle.
Shaking his head, he started to leave the room, "I'll go tell Lance and the rest of them that you're awake. They're probably worried."
"Summers?" He demanded, finally taking note of the taller boy; it was obvious he hadn't been aware of his presence there. The anger seemed forced, however, and faded rather swiftly. Pietro made a small sound that was bitter and humorless, shaking his head-- "Sure. Whatever."
He hesitated at the doorway. "Um, you know . . . your friends really did miss you. I think they'll be really happy to see you."
"Is this some sort of X-Geek welcoming committee? There's no need to pretend, I hate you and you hate me. This is going to be the worst month of my life. Go ahead and celebrate." He said, giving Scott quite the glare.
Scott returned it, but it was kind of lost in his glasses. "Well, I don't like Lance much either, but that doesn't mean I'm going to celebrate his -misery.-"
"Thanks. I'll remember that." He said sarcastically, looking back to his hands.
Scott was about to storm out of the room, when what the blonde had been through hit him. He couldn't picture anyone being in a pleasant mood afterwards, he imagined even the professor would be a little cranky. Out of any mutant that Scott had -ever- met, Pietro was the only one who seemed at complete peace with his power.
It came as easy to him as breathing, living like he did. It was like an artists hand, or a singers voice. He couldn't even imagine how hard it was going to be for him …
"Hey, I'm sorry." He started again. "What happened really bites. I may not like you very much, but I know that must really suck for you."
Pietro stared, looking confused. Finally he nodded. "Yeah, it really does." A small, wicked smile started up his cheek. "The company I'm keeping doesn't help much either."
"I can imagine." Scott said; it was amazing how much easier Pietro was to deal with once you simply -decided- that you weren't going to be affected by any of his words.
"Hey! Pietro!" A voice suddenly cried, and they both looked up to see Todd bouncing into the room. "I just heard the news, yo! So we're a team again?"
"For a while." The blonde said, watching the teen bound across the room in two long jumps, settling in a chair next to the bed.
Freddy and Lance weren't too far behind, neither paying much attention to Scott as he left.
That is until Pietro had the balls to call out, "See ya Summers!"
Scott yelled back something similar, but didn't turn. Missing Lance's look of surprise and slight anger completely . . .
a.n: nope, no slash. that's not slash, just simple rivalry of two leaders. it happens a lot when two teams get mixed and matched.
but dear, sweet aunt alice, i'm having such a hard time not slashing! scott/pietro never even -occurred- to me, and now i'm having to keep a firm clamp down on my slashing instincts … oh, it just seems too good to leave alone … AUGH! but, i won't do that to the people who started reading this under the pretense of straight-ness. ;_; and i was wondering why i couldn't write a lance/pietro or evan/pietro. it's cause i'm a s/p fan!! . WHY do i do this to myself? i'll never find a fic with this coupling … t'oh well … *sniff*
If only he had brought the boy in sooner. If only the conversation between Lance and the Professor hadn't lasted so long. If only Pietro had caught his sister with his stomach rather then lungs. If only …
The elderly man shook his head, knowing trying to place blame was useless; he had learned long ago that to think of 'if only's' and 'what if's' did no good.
He watched with a pained expression as the boy's chest moved up and down-- it was a fast motion, unnaturally so. His ribcage looking twisted and bent. Breathing had to be excruciating. The room was silent, save the sound of a painful wheeze every so often. Originally, they'd hand the boy connected to a normal heart monitor, but the noise had become an almost continual high and annoying beep that drove Henry near mad.
So they'd switched it to a small light that blinked with each pump of blood.
The professor wasn't exactly sure why he was in the room, Pietro wasn't in any need of any supervision. But Xavier's powers often worked in mysterious ways, such as this. He became used to following gut instincts without asking an questions, knowing it would almost always be for the best.
The door opened with an all but silent 'whoosh' and he listened as Scott Summers took a few hesitant steps into the room.
"He's really staying here?" The teen asked, not bothering with greeting. The two rarely ever did-- they both knew that Professor X knew of his arrival long before he made it, which made greetings a vain point.
"Yes, Scott he is." Xavier said, turning to face the boy.
He looked a bit queasy. The professor couldn't blame him, he had no clue as to what Pietro, or any other human for that matter, was feeling or really trying to achieve. It only made sense to be suspicious.
Of course, the only indications he was getting from Quicksilver was a dull, steady feeling on anxiety. This was the customary feeling he got from one when they had passed out during a battle. There body was far too tired or damaged to do anything, but their mind was still worried, completely oblivious to the outcome of whatever happened.
"Why, professor?" Scott asked simply. Really, it was all of his questions rolled into one. Scott was very good at doing this, making all his points very concise; others often mistook it for simplicity, but the elder could see the intelligence it took to make things so condensed and brief.
"I would share with you the reason, but I have a feeling it will be up to Pietro to disclose what happens next."
"So, it's up to him if he stays?" Scott asked, looking relieved. Professor X hardly needed to be a mind reader to know what he was thinking-- Pietro would surely say no. The boy would rather live on the street then with the wittily named 'X-Geeks.'
Of course, that was always a possibility, and if Xavier hadn't see the message from Magneto, he would've most likely agreed with Scott.
"Yes, it is." He said. He could still sense unrest inside the younger leader of the X-men. "Scott, if I thought he was any sort of threat to any member of this team, I would not allow him in."
He nodded, the turbulence within only settling slightly. Xavier sighed to himself. It was up to Scott to grow beyond mistrust. But, as he thought before, he understood the doubt.
He barely had time to sense the anxiety fade into confusion before Pietro's eyes flew open.
He stared at the ceiling blankly for a moment, his eyes focusing quickly.
"Good morning, Pietro." Professor X greeted, as it was just past 9 am.
Scott pushed himself further away, but couldn't bring himself to fully exit the room. He -knew- that the professor could easily take care of any problem. But that didn't necessarily mean that he didn't have to be unaware of it.
The blonde made a strangled noise and shook his head-- he was moving too fast, Scott noted. His features were blurring together as he blinked and moved his mouth. Too fast for anyone to really keep up with.
After a moment of confusion, Pietro stilled and looked around. It didn't take a genius to figure out the basics of what had happened.
"How long have I been out?" He finally mumbled, he was probably blinking at a normal pace, but the sight startled Scott. A flash of peach that never lasted, covering questioning silver eyes. "How's Wanda?"
"Just over two days." Xavier provided helpfully. "Your sister's just fine."
"Great." He groaned, moving to sit up at such a pace that he had sat back before his impression was out of the pillow. "Thanks for everything I'm sure you did for me, but I havta go."
"That's wouldn't be wise," Professor Xavier said quickly, referring to the half-hearted efforts Pietro was making to get off the bed.
"Then what would be?" He growled sarcastically.
"Before I tell you the . . . details of your current situation, I believe there's something much more important to--"
"Yeah, yeah, what is it?" Pietro was more then used to long speeches, thanks to his father. He really didn't see the point of using fourteen different words when three would do, unless you said them quickly. Really, he didn't know how Magneto and Xavier spoke-- circling around the subjects for, he was sure, hours on end.
"A message from your father." Xavier said, seemingly unhurt by Pietro's words, unlike Scott who was gritting his teeth and wishing for a hole to a certain place appear in a very -convenient- place.
That shut him up, Scott saw happily.
Pietro stared at Xavier. "Why would he bother to send a message? I'm going right back to him."
"Perhaps you should watch the memorandum."
Pietro frowned. This was hardly what he called a good morning. He was a bit startled when an actual -screen- started lowering from the ceiling,
"Jeez, how many people get injured, if you've actually bothered to install communication systems in the -infirmary-?!" He demanded, his nervousness having to shot off somewhere.
Xavier just smiled shortly. The screen switched on by some mysterious power (which was not at all mysterious, but just Xavier using his annoyingly creepy powers again).
Scott, burning with curiosity, slowly moved over to the other side of the wall, so as to have a clear view of the screen.
Magneto's frozen expression looked impassive. Pietro swallowed nervously, even though this had been recorded a good day ago and hardly any threat to him.
The message started without warning, and he almost missed the first few words of the speech, but he managed to catch it.
"Greetings, Pietro." He paused here, as if expecting some sort of 'Hello' in return. Pietro said nothing and waited for the real meaning of this. "It's obvious, my son, that you have unresolved feelings for Xavier's trifling assemblage." Pietro had to smile. Any -normal- person probably said the word 'Assemblage' maybe once every two years. Not his father. He'd guess he said it once or twice a month-- after all, he hated being repetitive. "You're position among my own ranks will forever remain an open invitation, but I would like for you to explore any other option that you feel to be viable before returning. There is no feeling worse then regret, and I would never wish it on anyone, let alone my own son. I trust Xavier will find no difficulty accommodating with my wish."
"Oh god." Pietro groaned, slumping back down. "He's gonna kill me."
Scott wanted to ask how he could even come to that conclusion, the video had seemed diplomatic and understanding; but he figured Pietro knew his father better then he would.
"So what's wrong with me then?" He asked. "Why am I still hooked up to all this stuff. I should've healed by now."
The old man took a deep breath. This was the part of the boy's awakening that he had dreaded. "Pietro, has anyone ever told you the specifics of your power?"
He shook his head as slowly as he could bare, head throbbing with every movement.
"The processes of your body is so highly enhanced that you no longer have a need to produce fatigue poisons, which forces the body to rest. Rather, your body is in a constant state of driving out waste products while you run, through exhalation." He explained slowly. "The impact of Wanda colliding into your lungs seriously damaged your respiratory system. That alone would be quite the impairment, but you continued to run afterwards. This created an almost . . . blockage in your body. Your body needs to catch up with the waste you built up in addition to healing."
"So you're saying I can't run?" Pietro asked, rather calmly, leaning back into his bed. "But every other part of my body is still stuck on super speed?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"I'm not entirely sure." Professor Xavier said, turning from the bed to glance again at the computer screen that had Pietro's vitals listed, even though it told him nothing he didn't already know. "If you were an average human, or even mutant, I would venture at three to four weeks. But I've never had the chance to examine your body as much as I would've liked."
"I see." He murmured, eyes falling to his hands in thought or acceptance; Scott wasn't sure which.
"I take it that you'll be excepting our invitation?"
"Hn."
Correctly translating the non-committing sound, Xavier turned to leave the room, so as to make the finishing arrangements.
And leaving Scott quite awkwardly alone with one of his only true enemies.
Pietro didn't seem to notice however, continuing to stare dully at the most amazing spectacle of blood pumping through his fingers.
Scott didn't like this-- the Quicksilver he knew would hardly take all of this so lightly. He'd throw a fit, whine and punch things. Of course, he had never really bothered to talk to Pietro, outside of battle.
Shaking his head, he started to leave the room, "I'll go tell Lance and the rest of them that you're awake. They're probably worried."
"Summers?" He demanded, finally taking note of the taller boy; it was obvious he hadn't been aware of his presence there. The anger seemed forced, however, and faded rather swiftly. Pietro made a small sound that was bitter and humorless, shaking his head-- "Sure. Whatever."
He hesitated at the doorway. "Um, you know . . . your friends really did miss you. I think they'll be really happy to see you."
"Is this some sort of X-Geek welcoming committee? There's no need to pretend, I hate you and you hate me. This is going to be the worst month of my life. Go ahead and celebrate." He said, giving Scott quite the glare.
Scott returned it, but it was kind of lost in his glasses. "Well, I don't like Lance much either, but that doesn't mean I'm going to celebrate his -misery.-"
"Thanks. I'll remember that." He said sarcastically, looking back to his hands.
Scott was about to storm out of the room, when what the blonde had been through hit him. He couldn't picture anyone being in a pleasant mood afterwards, he imagined even the professor would be a little cranky. Out of any mutant that Scott had -ever- met, Pietro was the only one who seemed at complete peace with his power.
It came as easy to him as breathing, living like he did. It was like an artists hand, or a singers voice. He couldn't even imagine how hard it was going to be for him …
"Hey, I'm sorry." He started again. "What happened really bites. I may not like you very much, but I know that must really suck for you."
Pietro stared, looking confused. Finally he nodded. "Yeah, it really does." A small, wicked smile started up his cheek. "The company I'm keeping doesn't help much either."
"I can imagine." Scott said; it was amazing how much easier Pietro was to deal with once you simply -decided- that you weren't going to be affected by any of his words.
"Hey! Pietro!" A voice suddenly cried, and they both looked up to see Todd bouncing into the room. "I just heard the news, yo! So we're a team again?"
"For a while." The blonde said, watching the teen bound across the room in two long jumps, settling in a chair next to the bed.
Freddy and Lance weren't too far behind, neither paying much attention to Scott as he left.
That is until Pietro had the balls to call out, "See ya Summers!"
Scott yelled back something similar, but didn't turn. Missing Lance's look of surprise and slight anger completely . . .
a.n: nope, no slash. that's not slash, just simple rivalry of two leaders. it happens a lot when two teams get mixed and matched.
but dear, sweet aunt alice, i'm having such a hard time not slashing! scott/pietro never even -occurred- to me, and now i'm having to keep a firm clamp down on my slashing instincts … oh, it just seems too good to leave alone … AUGH! but, i won't do that to the people who started reading this under the pretense of straight-ness. ;_; and i was wondering why i couldn't write a lance/pietro or evan/pietro. it's cause i'm a s/p fan!! . WHY do i do this to myself? i'll never find a fic with this coupling … t'oh well … *sniff*