AN: Now that I've revealed my villain, a few notes about that.
The name Mr. Sinister is ridiculous. I'm calling him Sinister. Cause I can.
Also, I realize there are more Marauders, etc. But I'm not about to do a Mutant Massacre story. I figure that'll probably come up soon enough, on the show, considering the thing they've set up with the Moorlocks. Or maybe not, considering the painful nature of it, and that it requires an awful lot of character death and disfiguration. I will, however, resist my initial impulse to throw in yet another character and let Angel kick the shit out of Harpoon. I promise.
Also, not dealing with the Apocalypse origin issue. Sinister is just the villain, and they don't know a thing about him. And, to be honest, I don't feel like bothering with it. More interested in the kids.
Chapter Five: Wound Up (Wanda)
"Pietro, stop!" She boomed, reaching out her hand, blue power cracking around it, and sent a weak hex bolt directly into the blurring image of her brother.
Pietro had no choice, at that point, but to stop.
And Todd, who had been bounding along after him, trying to slime him, ran right into him, knocking them both to the floor in a tumbling mass of silver hair and slime.
Wanda Maximoff sighed, a very loud, quick rush of air out of her, and turned back to watching television.
"Get offa me, frog!" Her twin squeaked, still immobilized, an utterly horrified expression on his face as he stared at the boy on top of him.
Toad just smiled, and sat down on the older boy's chest. "Thanks, sweetums."
Wanda ignored him, and tried to watch TV.
"How would you like it if I trapped you under this slime-ball Wanda?!" Pietro was protesting, regaining enough mobility now to jerk just a little.
She knew it would make him insane to be so unable to move. It was what he did.
And she was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Perhaps it would make her feel better.
She was in a sulk.
Not that this differed much from any other day. She could not honestly remember the last time she hadn't been in a sulk. But this time, it was different.
They'd defeated him. Saved him. Saved the world.
And here they were. Stuck in this house, with these losers.
Fuck adults. And fuck her father.
"Wandaaaaaaaa!"
And, "Fuck you, Pietro."
With that, she stood, dropped the remote control, and stomped up to her room. Hopefully, it would be the one place she could get some goddamn peace and quiet around here.
It's only a matter of time. That's what he'd said to them. A matter of time before he could gather his forces again, and they would all be together. He just needed to think, to regroup, to decide on a plan of action. And then, he would send for them.
What he sent for them was a check. Enough to pay for the rent, food, and bills for the next six months. Easily.
And they hadn't seen him since.
Wanda flopped down onto her bed, unceremoniously, and kicked off her heavy boots, getting a strange kind of satisfaction from the loud thump of them on the ground.
She didn't need her father, of course.
She didn't need any of them.
It was just that… she didn't know where else to go.
Sometimes, it felt like she'd been angry for so long, she hadn't felt anything else. Nothing. She could hardly even remember all those years.
She couldn't remember them, really. Nothing, before coming here. And things really hadn't been all that fucking fantastic here, either. Four boys, one of them her obnoxious, perpetually caffeinated, turncoat of a brother, to annoy her. A lot of family drama, a few superhero hoaxes, and something vaguely resembling a narrow miss at Armageddon.
And where the hell was she supposed to go from here?
And why the hell should she care?
She stared up at the ceiling, and tried to clear her mind. Just… get rid of it all. The problem was, she had so damn much of it… whatever it was, though she suspected it might be angst, it was impossible to know where to begin.
Knock-knock-knock.
She squeezed her eyes shut, resisting the urge to let the power in her loose. To let it rip through the room and level her furniture.
She lost entirely too much furniture that way.
"Who… is it?" She asked, through clenched teeth.
It was obvious who it was. No one else knocked that fast.
"It's your loving brother."
"Fuck off."
"Wandaaaaaaa."
God, what a whiner. "What do you want Pietro?"
"Quality time with my sister."
She snorted at that, and stood to go to the door, knowing how persistent the wretch could be, when he decided. She jerked the thing open and stared at him. Standing there, hands on his hips.
Peter fucking Pan.
"What do you want?" She asked again.
He pushed past her, right into her room, and flopped himself onto her bed. She noticed it was the same exact flop she had perfected. And tried to pretend it wasn't.
"You seem upset!"
"Rocket scientist. I can't believe someone as brilliant as you ever had trouble in school," she commented dryly, turning to face him and crossing her arms over her chest, defensively.
Pietro sat up quickly, though not inhumanly quickly, and grinned at her. "School is slow."
"Everything is slow to you," she snorted.
"Notmyfaultthey'reslow!"
She hated when he did that. He did not have to talk so fast, and she knew it.
The little sicko thought it was funny.
But before she could even get warmed up enough to send him out of the room on the end of her foot, his face changed. The corners of his mouth turned downward and he sighed. "You're mad about dad."
Her brow furrowed. And she found she couldn't speak.
She wanted to get angry. But couldn't.
"He's a fucking liar," she managed to spit, after a few minutes.
He only shrugged, "You're telling me. Look, forget it. We thought it was gonna be something, and it's not. Get over it, move on, life is too short."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Look, thanks for the pep talk, bro, but—,"
"Aw, Jesus, Wanda," he rolled his eyes right back at her. "I know it seemed like I didn't give a fuck when we thought he was dead—,"
Now she interrupted him, "You didn't."
He pretended not to hear her, "but the fact is that he's never going to be a father to us, so just suck it up and deal with it, huh? You don't even like him, remember?"
"You didn't even want to go and save him from Apoca—,"
"Save it!" He said quickly, holding up one hand. Or rather, blurring a bit, and his hand was suddenly held high in the air. "I did anyway. And I saved your ass too, if I do recall."
Wanda bit down on her lip, hard.
"Kitty's downstairs," He said, with his usual disregard for anyone else's train of thought.
She sighed. She still did not trust the X-Men. But they had done the right thing. And they had saved her father… fuck her father, they had saved the world.
And she did like Kitty Pryde, for some reason.
"Wants us all to go to some party. Well ok, she wants Lance to go. But still where he goes, we go!"
"You need to get a life, bro," she sniffed, suddenly less irritated with him.
"Hey, I have a life. It's just that, I live so fast, I need three or four to keep me busy."
Wanda had a moment of silence, to commemorate the monumental stupidity of Amanda Sefton.
Or, perhaps, of Amada Sefton's mother and father, who had gone out of town and left the house to their daughter.
Who was having a mutant-friendly bash.
Who was smiling at Wanda, right now. "Glad you could come guys!" Her puppy dog brown eyes smiled at them, fearlessly.
Wanda rolled her eyes. There was no way this night could possibly end with the house still standing. Most of the X-Men, those old enough to break free for the night, but not so old as to have graduated (god forbid they be seen at a high school party) were strewn about the living room, up the stairs, and in the kitchen. Regular old flatscan humans were all over the place too, actually.
That fact, in particular, gave her food for thought.
Perhaps the repeated news coverage of mutants saving the world had done some good after all.
But Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she really didn't want to be here. Alas, it seemed she'd developed a habit of following Kitty Pryde into certain doom.
"Whoa, whoa, Kitty-cat," Pietro's white eyebrows were suddenly almost meeting with his hairline, "Who's the new girl?"
Wanda followed her brother's gaze to a slim young woman, probably about her age, maybe a little younger, in flared jeans and a black baby doll tank top. Typical. The girl had long hair, as dark as her own, with a silver streak or two trailing through it, swept over to the left.
And she was beautiful. Perfect pale skin, bright blue eyes, and a smile that looked like it was straight off the cover of Seventeen magazine.
Christ. Another cover girl for the X-Men. Great.
"Oh, that's Jeanne-Marie Beaubier, from Quebec. And her brother, Jean-Paul. They just got here, actually, Jeanne-Marie's been with us a little over a week."
Wanda rolled her eyes at the girl… but stopped when they reached the aforementioned brother.
About the same height, with a similarly, Wanda figured, deceptively slim build. But without looking slightly underfed, like his sister. Same shining black hair with the silver streaks, only his fell over his forehead, almost into those piercing baby blues. Upswept eyebrows, smooth white forehead, and a half smile on his face. But nothing like his sister's shining, enthusiastic one. Sarcastic, would be a better word. Bemused, maybe. Black t-shirt, jeans cut like he'd had them tailored.
"Nice body," She commented, off hand. Not really her type, but not bad at all.
"He's a skier," Kitty giggled, beside her.
Lance suddenly growled something, and stalked off toward the punch bowl, pawing at his shirt pocket. Which meant the punch bowl would soon be spiked. Todd hopped after him, shooting her a wounded look, which she pointedly ignored.
Freddy had long since found the food, and hadn't heard the exchange at all, apparently.
"Well, well, looks like I might get to have a little fun tonight!" Pietro announced before blurring momentarily, and reappearing near the dark-haired girl, who was talking animatedly with Rogue as Ray and Bobby looked on wistfully.
The rest of the group, Wanda noted, jumped with surprise at Pietro's appearance.
Except for the twins.
"What do they do?"
Kitty laughed, or giggled again, really. She tended to giggle. You'd never guess what a genius the girl was, if you didn't give her a chance. And she started to lead Wanda over to where the little group was standing. "They'd give Pietro a run for his money. They're super fast, and they can fly. And when they touch, there's this light that happens. Totally blinds anyone looking at it."
Impressive.
When they reached the group, Pietro was gesturing wildly, Jeanne-Marie was laughing, and Jean-Paul was scowling at the pair of them.
"I guess you guys met Pietro," Kitty rolled her eyes at them.
Rogue rolled her eyes. Jean-Paul raised one eyebrow alarmingly high.
"This is his sister, Wanda. Wanda, Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie Beaubier."
"I prefer not to be introduced as Pietro's sister," She muttered.
The dark haired boy smiled at her then. A wry smile, but an appreciative one, nevertheless. And he held out a hand to her. "Nice to meet you, Wanda."
Heh. Accent. She took the hand offered and smiled back, awkwardly.
Like he was picking up on her thought, Pietro asked suddenly, "Where'd you say you were from?"
"Quebec," The Beaubiers answered in unison.
Rogue and Kitty exchanged alarmed looks.
Wanda and Pietro just nodded.
"Who the hell gave Bobby Drake alcohol?" Rogue had her hands on her hips, feet planted shoulder-length apart, staring balefully at the assortment of young X-Men scattered around the room.
Wanda laughed, and sipped at her own punch, silently thanking Lance Alvers for his forethought.
She hadn't done much talking tonight. She hadn't really even expected to stay this long. But, surprisingly, no one was getting on her nerves too much.
No one except Todd. But then, that was nothing new.
Pietro had been too busy trying to outdo the newest addition to the X-Men, Jean-Paul, obviously having forgotten about his beguiling sister. Said sister was presently focusing all her attention on one very flummoxed looking Ray Crisp, who sat staring at her wide-eyed and obviously failing at an attempt to hold a conversation. She'd focused on Drake, who was now passed out on the sofa, snoring softly and making little puffs of frozen air appear over his open mouth, for a bit. But when he started sliding down in his seat, obviously drunk and about to pass out, she'd moved on to Berserker. Amara and was busy flirting with any man who stepped within her radar, as if she considered the threat from Jeanne-Marie's competition a serious invasion of her territory. The Canadian invasion. Todd was sitting in a corner, watching her, still angry about her comment on the Beaubier guy's body. Lance and Kitty were sitting on the stairs, deep in conversation and gesturing madly now and then, obviously on the verge of fighting. Kurt was running around dutifully, helping Amanda keep things under control. Tabby was entertaining a crowd of her own outside on the porch, telling some wild story or another. Alex, the other new X-Kid, the little Summers, 'Berto, Sam, and Freddy were outside as well. Watching the cockswinging between Jean-Paul and Pietro, probably.
As entertaining as it was to watch Rogue fume, Wanda decided she might as well go and keep her brother from embarrassing himself too badly in the back yard. So she pushed through the mass of kids near the door, and out into the humid summer night, full of loud music and fireflies.
"Well, I was Pietro's date to the dance—,"
"Oh don't be stupid, Megan, I asked him first! He only agreed to let you tag along because he felt bad!"
A blonde girl at her elbow suddenly turned very red, "That is not true, Ashley Blake, you take that back!"
The brunette rolled her eyes, "Oh whatever."
"Actually, I asked him first—," a new voice cut in.
Wanda ground her teeth hard, and pushed past more kids, to try and escape the conversation they were having, that she did not under any circumstances want to hear.
On second thought, maybe she would let her brother make an ass of himself. It would serve him right.
At least most of them weren't even paying attention to the little competition further down the yard. Most of them were hanging out up on the porch, totally oblivious to the idiocy of her brother and his new playmate, dancing to the excessively bad music blaring through the speakers out there and drinking whatever alcohol they managed to sneak in without Amanda finding out.
"Ha!" her brother was laughing as she caught sight of him, coming up between Alex and Berto. "So that proves it! I'm faster!"
"You might be a little faster, mon ami," Wanda had to look around to see where the voice was coming from, and eventually spotted Jean-Paul leaning under a tree, in the shadows. "But that's not all I have."
Pietro paused.
A rare occurrence. She had another moment of silence, to treasure this rare event. Pietro. Holding still. It almost brought a tear to her eyes.
And she meant that thought in the most sarcastic way possible, of course.
"Scott would flip if he saw this," Alex was shaking his head, looking torn between extreme amusement and mild concern. But grinning.
Wanda rolled her eyes. "No one is even paying attention. Just like your fearless brother, aren't you kid?"
The surfer boy turned to look at her. "Just like your mouthy brother, aren't you girl?"
She considered hexing him.
But Pietro was talking again. "Bring it, speed bump," he put his hands on his hips and gave the shadowed boy that evil grin of his.
The Peter Pan act again.
Wanda had a wonderful feeling that this was going to be very bad.
There was a blur, near the tree, then one where Pietro had been.
Then a streak, going straight up into the air.
When her eyes finally caught up with them, she saw the Canadian X-Man holding her brother by the wrists, letting his feet dangle… a good fifty feet in the air.
Roberto DaCosta was suddenly on the ground at her feet, howling with laughter.
She fought a sudden urge to do the same thing. And a simultaneous one to kick him in the ribs.
Pietro started kicking wildly, "Let me down! Hey, put me down you—,"
"I could," Jean-Paul's voice was quiet, but loud enough to just carry to those standing close to where they'd been. "but are you sure that's what you want?"
"Yes!"
He let go. And Pietro started to fall.
Wanda's heart jumped.
But suddenly, the dark haired boy had her brother by the wrists again, right back where they'd been before he'd let go. "Are you sure?"
She felt her lips press into a thin line now. She'd wanted him humiliated, yeah… well, she'd 'thought she had, anyhow… but this was irritating.
Jean-Paul had started his descent, however, and made a delicate landing for them both, punctuated by some extremely inventive and colorful swearing from Pietro. Wanda watched through narrowed eyes as the Canadian stepped up beside her brother and smiled at him sweetly, then offered him a hand. "So, you're faster, but I fly. I suppose that makes us even?"
Pietro was positively pink in the face, at this point.
But he surprised her. He reached out, and took the other boy's hand, and shook it. "I guess that's fair."
"Merveilleux !" Jean-Paul replied, still smiling winningly.
Then, he became a blur, and Pietro was left standing by himself. An expression of extreme shock on his face that made very little sense.
He looked over at the small crowd there—Alex, Freddy, Sam, Berto (still on the ground, still laughing maniacally,) and Wanda. And furrowed his brow thoughtfully. Momentarily dumbstruck.
Another special moment in time, she thought wryly. Pietro was silent, for a moment! Mark it on the calendar!
"Well," he said, finally, "You heard the man. I'm faster."
Wanda rolled her eyes, her bout of protectiveness suddenly gone without a trace. "You ass," she mumbled, turning around to head back up to the house.
To see Jeanne-Marie Beaubier giggling silently behind her, a very drunken Ray attached to her arm.
"What are you laughing at?" She snarled at the girl, suddenly irritated by her… girlishness.
"My brother. I think he took Pietro by surprise, with his last move," she laughed from behind one long, thin hand.
Wanda didn't bother to ask what that was supposed to mean. She just started back up to the house, to scrape Lance off of Kitty to give them all a ride home.