Title: Mary Jane

Genre: X-men Evo

Pairing: slight Pietrance (Yes, I'm a Pietrance whore this week.)

Summary: Slash Pietro's feeling a little like Mary Jane right now...

Notes: Slight au and ooc, same as in Head over Feet, but this time, it's because this is set a year in the future; Lance is nineteen, Pietro and Wanda are Seventeen (Oddly enough, my dvd says that EVERYONE in the Brotherhood is seventeen...) Fred is gone (Mostly because I can never write him...sorry Fred lovers!) and Todd is sixteen.

Oh, I'm just making this a series of Alanis Morisette song fics, because I ADORE her cd Jagged Little Pill. And you should too.

And yes, I am aware that everything I write is Pietro centric. You can't blame me, though; I'm just good at it. ::sticks out tongue cutely and waves:: Ja ne!

'—'= Lyrics

"---"= Speech

::---::= Thoughts

Lyrics from the song Mary Jane by Alanis Morisette.

----------------------------------------------------- ---------------------- --------------- ----

'What's the matter Mary Jane, you had a hard day.
As you place the don't disturb sign on the door.
You lost your place in line again, what a pity.
You never seem to want to dance anymore.'

Pietro stared out the window, praying that no one would bother him today. He hated how Lance worried, and how Todd felt that he had the responsibility to cheer him up every time he seemed down.

He hated a lot of things; He hated how Fred had left them, how he had a family to return to. Even though Pietro considered the old Victorian home, and the people inside it family, it still didn't compete with the real thing.

He hated how Wanda still wouldn't look him straight in the eyes, how she still hated him for letting them take her away. He hated his father for turning her against him.

So he'd take his hate; his anger and his sorrow, and he'd lock them in his room with himself, locking the door behind him. No one need a kill joy, and lately, that was all he was. A kill joy, no fun, he didn't even act his age.

He'd gotten a job, to help out; he was a delivery boy for the Bayville Pizza Parlour. Lance had his job at the post office, and Todd had just gotten himself a job stalking shelves in the Bayville Superstore. Everyone was helping out; even Wanda, who worked in a animal shelter. Everything seemed to be going well.

'It's a long way down
On this roller coaster
The last chance streetcar
Went off the track
And your on it.'

But it wasn't, not for Pietro. Everything seemed to be speeding up, then slowing down again. The world would stop spinning when Lance walked into the living room late at night, and then speed up when he had to make it seem like spilling his soda was an accident.

People were starting to notice. Xavier had pulled strings, gotten Pietro and Todd back in school. Wanda had refused to attend school; and Lance saw no reason to go back. He had a steady job, and it made him happy.

In school, no one picked on Todd anymore. Pietro always stuck up for him; he was no longer the self absorbed, arrogant Pietro Maximoff, resident baddy and all around evil doer.

Now, he was Pietro Maximoff, the teen who sat silently in class some days, the genius in the back row, the only person left defending Todd Tolensky. He was different, more mature, even. Even the X-men, those who still attended the high school, noticed; Pietro acted civil to them.

Pietro was calm. And it worried people, because Pietro wasn't calm; Pietro was fast, and cocky. Not cool and collected, that was Lance's job, to be the adult of the group.

Pietro was not Pietro any more. Pietro was a Pietro shell; a body which resembled Pietro.

'I hear you counting sheep again Mary Jane
What's the point of trying to dream anymore
I hear you're losing weight again Mary Jane
Do you ever wonder who you're losing it for.'

"Pietro, are you sleeping?" Of course he wasn't sleeping; he never slept anymore, it seemed. Why did Lance ask questions he already knew the answers to?

"No. What do you want, Lance?" The older teen stepped into the room, silent until he reached the younger teens bed. He'd noticed that Pietro was slimmer; paler then normal.

"You're losing weight again, Pietro. This has to stop. You're hurting yourself by keeping whatever's wrong to yourself; please, just let us help." Pietro pulled away from Lance's warmth, the other teen catching his arm before he could stand up.

"No. It's...nothing. Really." But it wasn't nothing; the bruises on his wrists proved it. Of course, no one had ever seen them, not until now.

"Pietro...what are these from? Where did you get these bruises?" Pietro looked at his feet as Lance grasped at his wrists, wincing when the bruised skin was put in front of his face.

"Me." The elfin boy whispered, "I did it. I made them myself."

'Well it's full speed baby
In the wrong direction
There's a few more bruises
If that's the way
You insist on heading.'

Lance's eyes landed on the darkened skin once more, before he dropped the arm and turned Pietro to look at him.

"Why? How...what did you do?" Pietro motioned to his dresser, which was still broken from one rambunctious day last year, and showed him. Raising his hand high in the air, he brought it swiftly down on the table, the thud muffled by the ancient wood. Lance turned horrified eyes to Pietro once more, and the younger sighed.

"It's called Wrist Banging. It..." Lance placed his hands on Pietro's shoulders, anger and fear in his voice as he spoke.

"I know what it is, Pietro. Why are you doing it?" Pietro looked at his wrists, the more recently abused throbbing in protest to its treatment.

"I don't...I don't know why, okay? I just do. It was something stupid the kids I use to hang out with after me and Evan stopped being friends did. And I do it now because it's addictive. It's like you and your aspirin...we don't like you taking them so much, you know. That stuff thins your blood."

Lance sighed, shaking his head. This was not something he was accustom to. Not this; self abuse from Pietro, of all people. Everyone had always thought he loved his body more then anything else.

'Please be honest Mary Jane
Are you happy
Please don't censor your tears.'

"Are you happy doing this? Well? Does ruining your body make you feel better about yourself?" Lance hissed, tugging on the arm again. :: Why are you so unhappy, Pietro?::

Pietro shook his head. "I don't want to do this, you know. But I can't help it. I'm not happy. I don't feel any better about my self. I'm just..." :: Sad. Lonely. I want to be held by you. Damn it, Lance, can't you see that? ::

"I'm here for you, 'Tro. You know that. You...you do know that, right? I'm always here for you." Pietro nodded, and Lance pulled him into a hug.

"Always and forever. I swear it."

'You're the sweet crusader
And you're on your way
You're the last great innocent
And that's why I love you

So take this moment Mary Jane and be selfish
Worry not about the cars that go by
All that matters Mary Jane is your freedom
Keep warm my dear, keep dry.

Tell me
Tell me
What's the matter Mary Jane...'

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Yes. Well. I couldn't think of anything for the last few verses. Can you feel the angst, people? And yes...wrist banging. Well, everyone's always writing about popping pills, or cutting wrists, so I decided to be a little original...well, maybe not original, seeing as I don't know it anyone else has DONE wrist banging...::sweet smile:: Lets just pretend, though, yeah? Ja ne!