Chapter 5: Inquiring Minds
The voice on the other end of the phone immediately put Scott's teeth on edge. Out of everyone in the Brotherhood, Quicksilver had always gotten on his nerves the most. Anyone that arrogant always did, but anyone who managed to be simultaneously arrogant and sniveling had the superhuman ability to make Scott want to choke something.
During his brief stay in the Savage Land, it hadn't taken him long to figure out that Magneto was intent on treating him as a surrogate son, and even less time to figure out why. Trying to find Wanda's weak spots would have been a waste of time; she was almost as skilled at letting things slide off of her as she was with her probability-altering powers. But it wouldn't have taken a telepath to see where Pietro was vulnerable, and how exactly to spite him.
Even now that the twins were eating lunch with their "Uncle Charles" every week, they kept a safe distance from the Institute and its residents. It was probably just as well. It took all of Scott's training not to respond with anything more than "What?" He didn't even have to fake the curiosity.
"You heard me, Summers."
Don't call the Professor in yet. You can handle this. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Then I'll explain. And I'll use small words." The aspiring heir to the Homo Superior empire had seen The Princess Bride. Who knew? "The entire world agrees that Magneto died in a showdown with Xavier in DC. You guys got your fifteen minutes of fame because of it. Am I right?"
"So far."
"So why did I see him playing Frisbee in the park with a bunch of little kids?" Without waiting for an answer, Pietro plunged on. "So why did I track him down and find out that he had never even heard of me before?"
"Because you've completely and totally lost your mind?" Scott suggested.
"Interesting choice of words, Cyclops." The silver-haired speedster drew out the "S" sounds at either end of the word as long as the limits of mockery would allow.
"If this is about the professor, I don't want to hear about it. I get enough of that from the others." Oops, shouldn't have mentioned that. "Granted, though, I can take hearing it from you. Do you lie awake at night thinking up conspiracy theories?"
"Will you stop?" If Scott didn't know better, he could have sensed what passed for a note of desperation creeping into Pietro's tone. "I don't have time for games. Can I get a straight answer from you, or is that not part of your programming?"
"You're going to have to take this up with the professor," Scott heard himself saying.
"Thought so." Now Pietro just sounded disgusted.
"Shall I tell him to leave the gates open?" Scott asked sarcastically.
"Don't do me any favors." And then, just when he least expected it, the line went dead. Only the buzz of the dial tone against his ear convinced Scott that what had happened had actually happened. The details of the conversation itself were too surreal for words, and, in its own way, its possible meaning a little to much to comprehend.