Chapter Ten: Flashfire (Pietro)
You complete and utter idiots!
Now that sounded familiar. Sounded kinda like dad—Magneto. Magneto, that was who it reminded him of. How'd he get his voice to echo like that anyhow?
I don't care if you found another set of twins—you brought me one of each! What can I do with one of each?
Twins. He had a twin. Course, she hated him most of the time. Not that he could blame her. Well, no, actually he could. What's not to love?
You were supposed to bring me the Maximoff twins. Who is this girl?
Maximoff. Yeah, that was him alright. Pietro Maximoff, in fact. Quicksilver. Can't catch Quicksilver! Well, ok someone had, sorta, once. But that guy was another story…
Light. Christ, what was with that light? And who the hell was crying?
Pietro Maximoff opened his eyes and sat up, at once.
And immediately lay back down on the cold, hard floor, overcome with a sudden sinking nausea.
He squeezed his eyes shut, the very thought of motion making him want to vomit instantly. And that made him nervous. Motion. That's what he did. And the nervousness only served to intensify the nausea, which made him want to…
Ugh. Jesus Christ, where the hell was he?
He lay on the ground until the waves of sick started to wear off, and finally opened his eyes again.
Bars. Bars all around him. And outside of them, a lab. A proper fucking mad scientist lab. Stone walls and torches mixed with gigantic flat screen monitors and walls of medical equipment. A bubbling vat of green liquid. He didn't want to know what that thing floating in it was. Not at all.
The nausea started to return, and he looked away quickly. Toward the sound of sobbing near him.
"Jeanne-Marie?" He scrambled over, without really standing up, to where the dark haired girl was backed into a corner, knees up to her chest, hair covering her face as she wept. "Jeanne-Marie, what happened?"
Whatever she said, he couldn't understand a damn word. "Listen girl, I took Spanish, not French, so you're gonna have to slip back into English and give me the story."
She looked up at him, piercing blue eyes full of tears.
He would've had trouble recognizing her as the same girl from the party, if not for the hair and those eyes. Something weird about her…
"Jeanne-Marie…?"
"Ah, so you're awake."
Lightning fast, Pietro was on his feet, and at the bars. His mouth was open, and he had a string of expletives ready to spew at whoever the hell dared to capture him…
But he stopped when he saw the man—no, not the man, the… thing standing before him. Huge. Dark. Dracula meets Colossus with glowing red eyes. Staring right through him.
His heart sped up. That happened pretty often, really. Most of his body tried to speed up without his permission, most of the time. But luckily, he had extraordinary control over his powers as a mutant. He could always make it calm down, if he wanted, tell it where and when to speed up, how much to speed up, and when to quit.
It wasn't listening right now, however.
It pounded away in his chest, but he could've sworn it was in his throat.
"Shit," was about all he could force out of his normally wicked mouth.
"Shit indeed, Master Maximoff."
"W-who the… who the hell are you?" He stuttered, panicked, looking for somewhere, anywhere to run. His stomach was bottoming out again. Nowhere to go. Bars all around. Nowhere to run. Stuck. Trapped. Nowhere to run.
"A friend of your father's."
"Fuck him."
"Now, now, that's no way to talk about your loving parent."
"Where is he?"
"I do not know, nor do I care. Who is your companion? She has a twin brother?"
Pietro glanced nervously at the ball of mutant that he was pretty sure was Jeanne-Marie Beaubier. "What do you want us for?"
"Brave, little Quicksilver."
Hardly. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. Heart thudding fast. He needed to run when it got like this. The only way to calm it. Like it was just kicking in again. Like when it had first started happening. "Let me out."
"What is her power?"
"I'm not telling you shit, let me out!" Trapped. Caged. Screwed. So screwed. So very, very screwed. He remembered it now. That woman with the green hair. Knocked him out, in front of the house. Nothing. Nothing after that. Trapped. Fuck.
The man-thing's face changed. Pietro had the uncomfortable feeling that the painful expression was what passed for a smile, for him. "You will tell me, once way or another. You can tell me when I ask, or you can tell me the painful way."
"Fuck you," he hoped he sounded braver than he felt. But something told him that under no circumstances did he want this thing to know shit about him, or about Jeanne-Marie. Not that he was feeling like a hero at the moment, that really wasn't his business, but at the moment she was his only ally.
Not a heartening thought.
"Very well."
He now realized, he should've just talked.
He slammed against the back wall of the cell, having been thrown into it by a huge idiot of a mutant called Blockbuster, and slid down bonelessly, into a pile on the floor. Every pathway in his nervous system jumping. Twitching.
Someone gathered him up, wrapped arms around him.
"Pietro, what did he do to you?"
He twitched a moment longer, feeling the flashfire racing through his brain, down his spine, through his muscles. So much faster than it would've been for anyone else. For him, the shock was intensified thousands of times, his systems worked at such inhuman speeds. For him, the waves of electricity seemed to last thousands of times longer than they should have.
Hands held him, smoothed his hair. He could barely feel her there. Just a few seconds, for her. Eternity for Quicksilver.
Finally, it stopped. His system was in shock. He tried to move. And couldn't. Not the right way, anyhow. Not fast. Panic again. Can't move fast. Something wrong. "Fuck."
A face before his, Jeanne-Marie. "Pietro, are you alright?"
"No. Where are we?"
She glanced around once. The lab was empty now. She looked back at him. "Rogue called you, didn't she explain?"
His brain hurt. That's what it was. He twitched, one more time. "Rogue? What the fuck does this have to do with Rogue?"
The girl shook her head, irritated.
Looking absolutely nothing like she had… whenever he'd awakened on his back. However long ago it was. Felt like years. Now, she looked like the girl he'd met last week. Pretty face—gorgeous, in fact, intense eyes, quiet voice. And definitely in control of herself. "She received a phone call from a man called Gambit—,"
"Gambit?! I knew this was something with Magneto!"
"I don't know this Magneto," she continued, biting at her lip, "but I do know he told her that you were in danger, you and your sister. A man was coming for you, a man called Sinister, who wanted you for his genetic research into mutants."
Blood flow starting to speed up again. He could feel it. Subconsciously, he was always aware of his systems, how fast they were moving. In case he needed to regulate. He could feel it coming back, and sighed now. "What does he want me and Wanda for?"
The girl bit her lip again, and sat back, still facing him, on the cold floor. "You're twins."
He felt his eyebrows raise. "So are you and—,"
"Jean-Paul, oui," she nodded.
"So how come Gambit didn't warn you guys too?"
She shook her head, "I don't know."
He remembered something then. Something he'd heard in a dream.
I don't care if you found another set of twins—you brought me one of each! What can I do with one of each?
"Theyfuckedup!"
She furrowed her brow at him, obviously able to follow him not matter how fast his thoughts, or words, raced.
"They were supposed to get me and Wanda, but they saw you and your brother and decided to take all of us. Somehow, Wanda and Jean-Paul got away, but they got us. Must've been while I was passed out!" His mind was racing.
She nodded, speaking slowly. So that he wanted to smack her and speed her up, really. Too slow. Think faster. Get out of here. Nowhere to run. "Oui, when we arrived to help you, you were already unconscious. Jean-Paul carried you to Scott, who protected you. Something must have happened after I was knocked unconscious as well… they lost us."
No wonder, with the boy wonder protecting him. Figures. Worthless X-Losers. Couldn't even take care of one simple thing! "We're so fucked."
She shook her head, "No. My brother will come for us."
He sneered at her. "Your brother." Ok, so the guy was good. He'd proven his point. (He's good, but I'm faster! He had to remind himself.) But that didn't mean he and the X-Goons could outdo this motherfucker.
She raised an eyebrow, "You seem to like him well enough."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Idon'tknowwhatyou'retalkingabout."
He probably would've had a lot more to say to her on the subject, really. If he wasn't positively convinced his body was going to end up in various bits, in neatly labeled jars and containers scattered all over this lab, within the week.
The thought of that, combined with the uncomfortable memory of his insides being consumed by an electrical fire, really didn't leave him in the mood to argue.
Wanda had always wondered what it would take, to get him to shut the hell up.
Apparently, it was the threat of dissection.
If he made it out of here alive, he'd have to make sure she never found that out. She'd like that entirely too much.
He was pacing a rut into the ground.
They'd taken Jeanne-Marie. He could hear her screaming. He knew what they were doing.
He could still feel it in him, if he thought about it. Flashfire in his nervous system. Something draining his mind of his memories, his life, his sanity.
Not that he had much of that left.
Where the fuck was her brother anyhow. Shouldn't he be here already? Christ, how long did it take to get to… wherever the hell they were?
Jesus. He had no idea where they were, even now.
Another scream, something sizzled. Like a tazer. He shivered, in fast forward.
Nowhere to run.
He'd tried everything. The bars wouldn't budge, no matter how hard and fast he came at them. Jeanne-Marie had tried too—she wasn't much slower than her brother. And she had that light too. But it didn't have any effect, other than the optical one, apparently. Which wasn't much use to them.
Could he pace his way out of here, if the rut got deep enough? The stone under his feet was already nicely indented.
No more screaming. Just a moan.
Maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe she wouldn't remember. They'd drugged her up, before they took her. He'd heard them talking, once they took everything she had in her mind. About how her powers worked with her brother's. About how they must have a stronger link than him and Wanda.
He hadn't known that. That their powers could work together. He would've been impressed, under normal circumstances.
But Sinister. He wanted to know if Jean-Paul could feel it, when Jeanne-Marie hurt.
Shiver again. It could've been him.
But he didn't know who was luckier. She was the one being fried inside now, but listening to it was almost worse, somehow.
He was going insane. Bars all around him and nowhere to run and what was he supposed to do if he couldn't run? Caged trapped scared dying suffocating mad. Gotta get out of here can't move can't breathe can't think with the sound of her being hurt with the feeling of his heart thudding with the smell of electricity with the bars closing in on him.
Fuck.
Just… fuck.
They finished with her, picked her up, threw her back in just like they'd thrown him.
He flashed to her side. Caught her before she fell. Sunk to the ground with her.
She just cried. He tried to say something to her, but he didn't know what he could. Nothing would make her better. She'd reverted into French again, rocking back and forth slightly. He just sat her on the ground. He knew she probably needed to feel something, to feel someone. Somehow, he knew it. But he couldn't hold still. Couldn't watch her crying. Couldn't breathe. Fuck.
He was going to die. He knew it. Quicksilver was going to die.
Or… maybe not.
Whatever the hell was happening outside the lab, it was loud. And it sounded like the X-Men, to him.
He pulled Jeanne-Marie up, off the ground. She tried to pull away, said something that sounded less than kind in French. He just put his arm around her, held her standing, pushed his face against the bars. "Hey! Hey! Anybody in here!?"
No answer, just the echo of his voice.
Sinister had gone, after the alarm went off. The place was locked down tight, lights off. (Torches still burnt, though. Torches. What the fuck?) The monitors had gone off a few minutes later. Like someone had thrown a circuit breaker. The only light came from the little fires and the bubbling green glass vat with its lump of… something floating in it listlessly. He tried not to look at it.
"Somebody!"
Movement. He caught sight of someone familiar. Brown ponytail looked green in that light. But it was her. "Kitty!"
"Kurt, they're here!" Kitty finished phasing through the wall across from them, pulling Nightcrawler with her.
"Ach, Danke, Gott!" They came running toward the cell now.
He shifted Jeanne-Marie, who had started shaking a little. "Holy shit, get us out of here!"
"Pietro, are you guys ok?" Kurt started as they reached them.
"Jeanne-Marie! What happened to her?!" Kitty said simultaneously, reaching through the bars to take both of them by the hand and pull them out.
"TheyhookedusuptoamachineandfriedournervoussystemsandnowI'mokbutJeanne-Mariedoesn'tlookssogoodandshekeepsspeakingFrench—,"
"Forget I asked," Kurt took Jeanne-Marie from him and picked her up like she was a baby. She put her arms around his neck, as if by pure instinct, and buried her face in his neck. "Explain later. For now, we get you out of here."
Kitty took his hand, "You come with me. Kurt will take Jeanne-Marie."
He nodded, taking a deep breath. Free. Needed to run. But not now. Now, get free. Later, run. "Let's go."
Kurt disappeared with Aurora, and Kitty pulled him through the wall like it wasn't even there, then led him down a long, torch-lit hallway. "Where the fuck are we?"
"England."
"How the fuck did we get to England?"
"Sinister."
"I know that, idiot, I mean—,"
"Later, Pietro, ok? Jean-Paul is about to have a heart attack and Wanda is going to level this whole place. We have to get you to the jet."
He stopped. "No."
Her eyes popped. "What do you mean no?!"
"They're all here?"
"Yes, now, come on." She pulled at him, insistently.
"I want to help."
"You sound like Northstar! That asshole insisted he should come. You guys are in danger, you twins."
He narrowed his eyes at her.
She sighed. "Just come with me. You've never wanted to be a hero before, don't start now."
Frowning, dying to run toward the noise, he did what she asked.
And tried to suppress the shivers.
"T'ought you should know, Quicksilver… was my fault, dat he knew 'bout you an' Wanda."
Pietro tried to tear his eyes away from the depressing sight of Jean-Paul and Jeanne-Marie Beaubier, stony faced brother holding incapacitated sister. Jean-Paul was slumped over her, whispering the same thing in French, over and over again.
Eventually, he managed to look up at Remy. He'd never really liked the guy. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"
Gambit sat next to him, crouching down like a cat. There weren't enough seats for all of them, in the jet. But there was room. "Magneto sent me to gather information. Dis Sinister, he got ties to Apocalypse. But… dey caught me."
This surprised him. "You got caught?"
Solemnly, Remy nodded.
"Jesus. They fry you too?"
Again, he nodded.
Oh. Fuck. "Not your fault, then."
Gambit shrugged. "Shouldn't have been caught."
"Shit happens."
"It does."
"Where is he?"
"Don' know."
"Did they call him?"
"Couldn'. Don' know where he is."
Somehow, Pietro wasn't surprised.
He returned his eyes to the Beaubiers now, who hadn't moved since they'd gotten on the jet. Still in that same corner. He wouldn't let anyone else near her. "What's he saying?"
Remy sighed. "He sayin' I'm sorry."
Pietro looked over at his own sister, staring out the window, angry. She'd wanted to level the place alright. And Lance wanted to help her. And then, they wanted to hunt Sinister down, since he'd gotten away, somehow. Along with his little lackeys. But that prick Cyclops had held them all back, saying there was no need for that, that the lab would be dealt with by the authorities, and all of Sinister' work dismantled properly.
Then Storm had whisked them all off to the jet.
At least he'd had time for a little run. Not that it took long.
Wanda looked over at him suddenly, caught him looking at her.
He just stared. Couldn't think of anything to say to her. Anything to do. Couldn't force a smile or a frown or even a nod of acknowledgement.
And she stared back.
"I'm sorry too."