Disclaimer: I do NOT own X-Men Evolution or any of its characters.

     Pietro shook his head angrily, trying to get rid of the memory and the unwanted thoughts that came after it. Some guardian angel he had turned out to be. Barely a few weeks after that night, Wanda had been taken away to the asylum, and he had never seen her again, until now that is.

     Pietro became sad as he thought of his twin as she was now. She was sleeping just two rooms down. Wanda slept a lot these days. She had been asleep all afternoon, in fact. After grueling training sessions, it was understandable. Besides, it was the first time she saw the outside world in about 6 years spent in an asylum. That definitely took some getting used to.

     Technically, Wanda had never been a happy-go-lucky, carefree child. The asylum wasn't solely responsible for turning Wanda into what she was now, even though the most gentle and loving child could get turned into a monster after being in that place. Even as a little girl, Wanda had always been somewhat serious and dark, and much less chirpy than her brother.

     She was quiet around strangers, though usually polite, and had a nasty temper even then. After their parents (Marya and Django Maximoff) were murdered, the only person Wanda would show any type of open affection to was her brother, although she was just as quick to beat him up as she was to give him a hug.

     Nevertheless, the sister Pietro had known; the sweet, smiling, trusting little girl who shared her brother's wild streak and his love was gone, and probably forever. She was replaced by a hurt, angry, very powerful, and slightly homicidal young woman, who, ironically, was still as lovely as the little girl had been. A teenager who would be perfectly willing to come and murder her twin brother on the spot. Pietro shuddered slightly as he remembered Wanda on that night, over 3 weeks ago, when she had first arrived and almost succeeded in killing him, (she had tried to impale him with a ski that someone found in the attic).

     He had been enraged at the attempted murder, and more than a little scared. Pietro hated to be afraid of anything, and he wasn't really, but it was mainly out of fear that he had snapped at Mystique, asking her why the hell she had brought Wanda here, when she knew that she was a powerful, uncontrollable maniac who was capable of murdering him.

     In actuality, after his body stopped pumping the adrenaline in super speed because of the attack and after Wanda was a bit calmer, he had rejoiced inwardly. A sort of childish glee had spread through him, and he felt lighter and more complete than he had in years. His twin was back! Wanda was home and they were together again! Yeah! His wish had been granted!

     Of course, that lasted for about 2 seconds before Pietro slammed back to earth and remembered that his beloved twin was harboring enough rage and hatred towards him that she had tried to kill him the moment she set eyes on him. The only reason that he, the house, and the rest of the Brotherhood were still intact was because of that creepy old witch lady, Agatha Harkness or something.

     Pietro sighed slightly. It was like trying to walk on eggshells when he was within a ten foot radius of his sister. He still loved her so much it hurt, especially since he was seeing her after so long. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Not as if anything could make him like her any less.

     Sometimes, he would sneak into her room at night just to look at her and make sure she was still there, standing guard like a silent sentinel. He was always ready to leave in the blink of an eye however, in case she woke up. That was never necessary though, because Wanda had a tendency to sleep like the dead.

     It had broken his heart once (and he didn't think that was possible for someone like him anymore), when he made one of his nightly excursions to her room, to see her in the throws of a nightmare. It was obvious, if just from what he heard her say in her sleep that night, that life at the asylum had been no cake walk. It sounded worse than his life had been. Probably was. Pietro had wanted nothing more than to go hold her that night; to try to comfort her in any way possible or at the very least wake her up.

     The fits had gotten so bad that things in the room had started flying, and a lamp had come and hit him smack dab in the head, giving him a livid, purple bruise for two days afterward. He explained it away by saying that he didn't pay attention while running that day and had hit a pole. He didn't know if the guys bought it though.

     After dodging a few more pieces of furniture, Pietro had gone straight to his sister and gently laid his hand on her, smoothing her hair away from her sweaty forehead. She was going to hurt herself if she kept dreaming like this. The action almost seemed to calm her down slightly, but when Pietro removed his hand for a second, Wanda shuddered and let out a shrill scream, still in the throws of a nightmare.

     That, and the banging of the flying objects in the room was enough to wake most of the household. Pietro managed to hoist himself out the window right before Mystique barreled into the room, closely followed by Agatha. They apparently woke Wanda up and calmed her down, because the banging stopped and she looked relatively fine the next morning.

     Pietro completely forgave Wanda for trying to kill him. The fact that he deserved her contempt, however, didn't do anything for his peace of mind. He tried to make peace with her soon after she arrived. Unfortunately, his normally smooth words and the suave charm he exuded so easily in front of other people didn't come when dealing with his own twin. They wouldn't have worked on her either. She could always see through him in a way that was almost frightening in its accuracy. Pietro completely botched it up, and Wanda had stormed off after calling him a monster who was just like the only person she hated more than him; their father.

     A monster. Right. That suited him pretty well, Pietro thought. If not now, it would after tomorrow, after he betrayed the few people in the world who he had oddly enough come to think of as family, and who even more oddly enough come to accept him as a brother, although he didn't know what he ever did to deserve that kind of acceptance. And, Pietro thought, his stomach sinking, he would be betraying Wanda, again.

     The young speedster couldn't take this anymore and got up and started walking out of the room, pausing in front of the mirror. He looked in and sneered in disgust at the coward who looked back out at him. A coward who would do almost any damn thing in the world to please his bastard of a Father who treated him with nothing but abuse and cold contempt. It would serve him right if Wanda killed him [Pietro] tomorrow. He wouldn't complain, and he definitely wouldn't fight back.

     How had he turned out like this? It was just wrong, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. Didn't know if he wanted to do anything about it.

     He needed a run. A long one. The young mutant known as Quicksilver zoomed out of the house in less than a second. It was raining outside. Perfect. A long, cold run. Maybe that would help.

AN: You like? I know it ended kind of abruptly, but that couldn't be helped. I was looking over the whole story and was wondering where to cut it, and this place seemed as good as any. I think this chapter is slightly larger than my other ones. R&R.

Psychobunny410: Hey, got your review for my other story too, thanks!

SkyDancerHawk: As you wish…

Mrs. Jean Grey-Summers: Not my best, but still worth the read? Hmm, I think I'll take that as a complement to my writing in general.

Storm-Pietro: They are sweet, aren't they?

nessie6 & DranzerGirl: Thanks for the reviews, both of you!

Silver Hanyou1: ~sighs~ Yeah, having a twin bro would definitely be cool.

ToiletDuck85: Ditto.