Chapter 6

James Bond. The ideal man. He's handsome, smart, debonair, strong, and a will that will never, ever break. The ideal man. Idealism is an ugly word, full of hope and promise yet as empty as a doll's smile. That's the problem with idealism. It's belief in something that can never be reality. That's why I never have ideals. I have morals, a conscious rulebook that I will never break. They are the things that keep me grounded as myself. The only thing that keeps me from succumbing to the blinding pain of the past.

Idealism is false.

Everyone breaks.

The news buzzed around the Institute the next morning like an incessant fly. Pietro was awake. Well, they'd quickly amend, had been awake. According to rumor, Pietro had woken up in a fit and wrestled out of Hank's care (assumed also to be his grasp as he tried to keep him in bed) and managed to get clear across the mansion before taken down by Wanda. Also, not part of the rumor but part of the updated report that Hank had given Xavier, Pietro had reopened wounds on his stomach and arm. He had also managed to worsen his ankle's slight sprain to one that required a cast for a few weeks.

Besides this slightly upsetting news, the atmosphere in the place was exuberant. Most of that feeling stemming from the Brotherhood. In fact, when Toad heard the news, he had celebrated with a swift bottle exchange that resulted in the females tying him upside-down from the chandelier and Toad swearing that the dye was only temporary. Kurt had found the prank particularly hilarious. He announced that the blue-haired girls to be "Fuzzy-fans" and had to hide from them for the rest of the day.

In fact, the only people uncertain about the news were some of the elder students, all of whom remembered exactly how Pietro acted. Evan was particularly nervy. He hovered outside the Medical room, unsure whether his presence would be wanted.

Lance smiled slightly as he stared down at Pietro's inert form. Hank had assured him that Pietro was only resting, no longer in the coma he'd been in before. He should wake up any time now.

In fact, just as Lance thought this, Pietro stirred. The Brotherhood, who had camped out in the small room for most of the day, went absolutely still, their attention riveted on Pietro. Eyelids fluttered for a moment, then opened, focusing slightly blurrily on the concerned face just above him. "Aargh!"

"Uh, Todd, just come stand over here," Lance suggested idly. Todd sulked and moved out of Pietro's view. Pietro stiffened slightly at the sound of the voice and turned in mild surprise to encounter the entire Brotherhood staring down at him. He blinked at them.

"Hey man," Lance said, his smile faint but warm.

Todd grinned broadly, bouncing out of the room he yelled at the top of his lungs, "He's awake!"

Pietro had absolutely had no idea how to react. His mind was whirring frantically trying to figure out what was going on. Opening his mouth to speak he choked, coughing, as his voice refused to work. He felt slightly drowsy, as if he'd slept for a very long time. The spasm passed quickly, leaving Pietro pinned underneath the happy, yet concerned gaze of Lance, Fred, and…Wanda? Why was Wanda there? In his nervousness, Pietro glanced down to find a needle sticking out of his arm.

A needle.

In his arm.

Pumping unknown chemicals into his system.

A fraction of a second later the needle crashed against a wall, shattering.

"Hey! Careful 'Tro!" Lance stepped forward, frowning. Pietro pressed his hand against the tiny wound and stuck his tongue out at Lance. At this childish, very Pietro reaction, Lance grinned. "Good to have ya back, man."

Pietro blinked. Had he left? Wait. Where were they? They couldn't afford a hospital! He tried to ask Lance, but all that came out was a hoarse wheezing. He began to get nervous. What happened? Why was he in this bed? Why was everyone acting so odd? Why was Wanda there? What the hell was going on?!

"Hey!" Lance's panicked voice didn't even make him pause as he struggled to get out of the confining bed. Lance grabbed his arms, trying to hold him down. Unexpected and complete terror swamped Pietro's already unnerved mind. The fear felt almost tangible, freezing him inside and out. His body stiffened. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see! Everything was black with terror. Drowning him in it.

Lance jumped back quickly as he felt Pietro stiffen. His body curled in on itself, trembling against an unseen force. "P-Pietro?" Hesitantly, he reached forward and placed a hand on Pietro's arm. He yanked his hand back quickly as Pietro flinched violently, his shaking increasing tenfold. He backed away, completely at a loss.

Wanda brushed past him and sat by Pietro's side. She didn't touch him, but glared up at Fred. "Get Big Blue and Baldy. Now!" Fred didn't need to be told twice, hurrying out of the room as quickly as his large form could go. Then, quite carefully, she brushed Pietro's hair back from his face, grimacing at the resulting twitch, but continued to comb his hair with her fingers. She remembered doing this when they were kids. It always soothed Pietro. The vain twat always enjoyed being fretted over.

Slowly, very slowly, the tremors stilled. Yet, the white-haired teen didn't move as Wanda ran her fingers through fine, if rather dirty, hair. Lance tried to pretend he wasn't there, feeling as though he were trespassing on something precious. Finally, Pietro moved. Wanda jerked back and crossed her arms, trying to pretend that nothing happened, as Pietro stiffly tried to sit up. He didn't meet their eyes.

"You okay?" Lance asked, finally breaking the awkward silence. Pietro opened his mouth and coughed again. Flinching, he grabbed his throat. Understanding dawned on Lance's face. Spinning, he grabbed Wanda's unused glass of water and handed it to Pietro, who downed it gratefully.

"D-damn," Pietro croaked. Wanda and Lance broke into relieved smiles at the rough sound of Pietro's voice.

"What happened? Where-?" he coughed again. "Are we?"

"You've been unconscious for some time, Mr. Maximoff," came Xavier's cool, observant voice from the doorway. Pietro stared at him., then at Lance and back. "We're…at the Institute?"

Lance nodded slightly, not meeting his eyes.

Pietro frowned. "I don't understand."

"What do you remember?" Xavier asked, rolling to his bedside.

"I remember…" Pietro frowned. Green flashed in his mind before blanking. "Running."

"And before that?"

"Uh." His head hurt horribly. Why did it matter? Still, Pietro couldn't help but wonder the same thing. He thought hard beyond the pain. "Lance. I remember Lance. He was upset about…" he hesitated. "Wanda blowing out the bulbs."

Lance gaped. That was… "That's the last thing you remember?!"

"Uh..yeah?"

"But that was three months ago!"

It was Pietro's turn to gape. "What?"

Xavier sighed. "Let me explain. You have been comatose for about a week, ever since my students found you unconscious a few blocks from the school. Your friends last saw you three months ago. I assume at that same argument you have just mentioned. They have been invited to stay here until your injuries heal. But I must advise that you stay here. At least until you have completely healed."

Pietro shook his head. He didn't understand. What happened? Raising an arm he stared at the bandages.

"No way," Lance said flatly. They all turned to stare at him. His glare threatened bodily harm to Xavier. "We're taking Pietro home."

Pietro stared at Lance dumbly. His head hurt too much to deal with this. Xavier's expression turned rather more serious as he regarded the young Alvers. "I understand your concern, Lance. However, Pietro must stay here if he is to heal fully."

"And why's that?"

"Simply the fact that we have the equipment and means to help. You're welcome to stay here…"

"He won't 'heal' fully or whatever as long as he's here. How can anyone be comfortable enough to recover while held in their enemy's house?!"

"Under the circumstances I don't believe we are enemies."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?! We've been through too much shit to be able to just switch back and forth like that at a whim."

"I hardly believe that this is a whim, Mr. Alvers. I merely meant that it is in Pietro's best interest to give us the benefit of the doubt in this situation."

Pietro watched the argument bounce back and forth like a bad game of table-tennis. If he wasn't so damned tired than he'd give them both some choice words about acting as though he weren't there.

"His best interest?! How is practically keeping him prisoner here his best interest?!"

"He is hardly a prisoner either. He may leave whenever he wishes, as long as Dr. McCoy agrees."

"Oh great! That's as good as saying that he has to stay as long as you hold the damn keys! Why should he just give you the benefit of the doubt like that! Give me one good reason!"

"We saved his life," Xavier responded smoothly. Lance faltered.

Well, that's your mistake, Pietro thought, mildly amused. "Why did you help me?" he spoke up suddenly. Xavier and Lance's eyes swiveled to meet his."It's not as if I've ever given you reason to." He coughed. And given you just about every reason not to.

"I would never turn down anyone who needed help."

Idealistic morons. He would have said more, but his voice was hoarse and it hurt to talk.

"We're taking him home," Lance stated with finality.

"And what do you plan to do then? He has lost a lot of blood and nutrition, do you know what to do? He is still severely injured and I don't believe he will be up to walking any time soon. Especially after that incident last night."

Incident? Pietro drew a blank.

"We'll be fine. Thanks for all you've done and all that, but we can take it from here."

"I'm sorry, but I cannot in good conscience allow Pietro to leave just yet."

The foundation rumbled dangerously.

"H-hey! Injured person in the room!" Pietro protested, clutching at the bed frame. The room settled almost instantly with Lance looking flushed and embarrassed.

"He stays," Wanda announced. They gawked at her. She glared at Lance as if daring him to contradict her. "He'll be safer here than he would any place else. Hell, not even Magneto would attack this place without an army. He stays." With that, she got up and stalked out of the room. Lance scowled and chased after her.

"Don't I get any say in this?" Pietro grumbled.

Xavier smiled slightly. "None whatsoever. I'm afraid you'll be staying here for a while. Now, will you allow Hank to examine you?"

Pietro looked up to find the resident doctor casually leaning up against the wall. How long had he been standing there? Smirking lightly, Hank pushed himself from the wall and lumbered over to him. "I see you removed the shunt," he commented casually.

"The what?"

"The IV needle."

Pietro glanced down at his arm. "I don't like needles," he muttered.

"I can see that," Hank said, eyeing the shattered remains by the wall. "Unfortunately, you need the IV to provide for the nutrition you have lost."

"If it involved needles then not a chance. Bring me food, I'll eat," he said, even though the thought of food made him nauseous.

Hank sighed. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that. You see, in your condition you are more likely to throw up the food than digest it. You need to nutrition sent directly into your body to start working as soon as possible. Plus, it will help you heal faster." Pietro said nothing.

"How about if we provide a needle with a plastic point?" Xavier suggested carefully.

Pietro looked up dubiously. "Do they even make those?"

"I'm sure we can arrange it."

Pietro considered it for a moment. "No," he said finally.

Xavier fought back a sigh of annoyance, even though he was mildly amused. Why must these boys be so stubborn? "Why not?"

Pietro snorted. As if he'd tell them that.

"You can face away from the needle and I can cover the area up if it helps," Hank suggested.

"No."

"It really is necessary if you wish to get well."

You don't understand. "…I… can't. I just…can't."

Xavier and Hank shot glances at each other. Pietro was staring at his arm again, rubbing it with his thumb. "Why not?" Xavier asked delicately.

Pietro didn't answer for a long moment. He stared unseeing at the continuous movement of his thumb. Suddenly, he looked up, grinning. "IV! Ha! I don't need no stinking IV! I'm Quicksilver, remember! Not even my own body can keep up with me!" Pietro stopped, oh, that didn't come out right.

"Yes. That's what we've worried about," Hank said.

Pietro snorted. "I won't be slowed down by something like this! In a few days, I'll be up and outta here!"

"Yes, but I'm worried that you'll be out of here in a body-bag if you don't let us use the IV."

Pietro flinched. Did that blue dummy really have to put it like that? Finally, he sighed. "It's…not just the needle. I can't… I don't like the chemicals."

The room was silent while Pietro tried to pretend that he hadn't say anything.

"Can pills work?" Xavier suggested thoughtfully.

Pietro perked up slightly. "I can do pills." He didn't like them, but he didn't panic at the thought of them.

Hank shrugged. "I'm not sure. I'll see what I can do. Now, time to change the bandages, Pietro." Pietro made a face at the furred man. Said furred man held out a stethoscope and grinned.

When Wanda reached about halfway down the hall, she nearly trampled over the pacing Evan. "Hey!" he said upon realizing who it was. "Is Pietro awake? He alright?"

Wanda glared at him. "Yes, he's awake."

"Oh," Evan hesitated. "How is he?"

"He's awake."

Even scowled slightly. "Yeah, you just said. How is he?"

Wanda sighed, she really didn't want to deal with this right now. Nonetheless, she opened her mouth to speak.

"Wanda!"

She turned on Lance, who glared venomously at her. "What the hell was that, Wanda?! We can't just let him stay here!"

"And why not? I'd like to see you make a better suggestion."

"We take him home!"

"And then what?! As much as I hate to admit it, Xavier's right. Pietro's in no condition to leave right now! And I don't just mean his injuries."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Wake up, Lance! Don't you remember what the fuck happened in there?! He freaked out and he doesn't even know why! He doesn't remember the last three months, Alvers! What part of that is healthy to you!?"

Lance hesitated for just a minute. "And what makes you think that staying here will help him any. I know something about these things. He will remember faster if he's in a familiar environment! That means home. Back with the Brotherhood. Not surrounded by beeping monitors, needles, which you know he hates, and people that a week ago would sooner attack him than help him!"

"They are not going to attack him now."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?!"

The sound echoed through the halls, freezing them in place. Evan stared at Lance. He tensed. "What the fuck do you mean by that?!" he snapped. "You really think we'd attack a hurt, defenseless man!? Like hell! Pietro deserved whatever he got from us, and the same with you. You were the ones that kept attacking us for no damn reason!"

Lance spun on him, livid. "No damn reason?! No damn reason, you say!? I suppose trying to eat isn't a damn reason to you, is it, Mr. Big-Money-Mansion! Flaunting your blatant hypocrisy and unwanted charity in our faces! Well, fuck you, Daniels! We don't need your help! We've never needed your help!"

"Yeah! And that's why Pietro is in our Med room right now!" Evan shot. Lance grabbed Evan by the collar, jerking him up to eye-height. "Don't. You. Dare. Talk about things you don't understand, Daniels."

Evan didn't struggle. He glared right back at Lance, fighting to keep his spikes under the skin. "What is there to understand? You say you don't need our help? Well, apparently you do, or you wouldn't be here."

"We're here for Pietro," Lance hissed.

"Yeah, right. That's why he was missing for four fucking months before you even noticed. You don't give a damn about anyone put yourself!"

Lance slammed his fist straight into Evan's jaw. Evan fell back, his face an agony of pain. He growled and lunged, tackling Lance. Air whoomped out of Lance's chest as he fell to the floor, his head cracking on the metal floor. They rolled, punching and kicking across the cold floor. Abruptly, they were yanked violently apart . "What do ya think your do'n, bubs?" growled a voice by their ears. Logan held each boy the back of their collar and scowled at each of them. Evan snorted and wiped a trickle of blood from his lip. Lance twisted, jerking out of Logan's hold, who released him to save the boy's pride, and glared at them both. A bruise was already beginning to form around his left eye. "Dammit. I don't need this." He shot Logan a dirty look, then a brief glance at Wanda, who looked on indifferently. He turned and pushed past them.

"Where do ya think your going?" Logan called after him.

"I'm gonna take a walk," Lance snapped, not looking back. He disappeared into the elevator. Logan sighed and turned to Evan. "Ya gonna tell me what happened?" Evan scowled at him and stalked off. "What about you, missy?" Logan glanced at Wanda. Wanda said nothing. Logan sniffed. "Yah sure. Kids brawl'n in the halls and it no business of mine."

"If you see it that way," Wanda said and walked off. Logan snorted. Kids.

How dare he?! How dare he speak to him like that! That idiot didn't know anything about him! Damn arrogant, hypocritical, ignorant …. Lance fumed on his way out of the Institute. His head hurt and he could feel the bump welling up on the back of his head. And damn Logan for pulling him off of him! He wanted to show that…. Insults and curses raged on through his mind, most of which were anatomically impossible. …and shove it up his ass!

"Hey, Knight!"

Lance jumped, spinning around. "Rooster?!"

"That'd be me!" Rooster waved as he walked up. "Ohh! Nice shiner ya got there. What happened?" He grinned lopsidedly.

Lance scowled, glancing around. "I got in a fight."

"Better than running into a doorknob."

Lance shot him a look. "What is it you want, Rooster?"

"Me?" Rooster tried to look innocent. "Nothing. Only on patrol, I am."

"This far from Downtown? Hell of a beat you've got."

"Heh. Well, the Lady's sent all the kids out onna sweep, and I'm out here 'keeping out from underfoot,' I think it was."

"A sweep?" Lance blinked. "What's happening?"

"Ah, Knight. Ya know I can't tell ya nothing' 'til we've confirmed it."

"Confirmed what? She is doing what I asked, right?"

"Possibly, possibly. But what do I know? I'm just the old Rooster. Running out of crow but still with plenty of cock, if I do say so myself."

Lance grimaced. "Thanks for that lovely image-"

"Anytime."

"But I asked her to go through reports of four months ago to see what happened to Pietro."

"Oh yeah! How is the bugger anyway? Croaked yet?"

"Nah. He's awake-"

"Oh damn! Maybe next time."

Lance ignored him. "But doesn't remember a thing since we last saw him."

Rooster raised an eyebrow. "Not a thing?"

Lance thought. "He said he remembered running, but that's it."

"Oh great. Quicksilver, running. That tell us lots."

"Has she told you anything?"

Rooster considered. "Told me? Nah. She's told me nothing. But the Lady is taking this seriously, Knight. Apparently, Quicky isn't the only Talent to go missing within the last six months."

Lance jerked his head up. "What?!"

Rooster held up his hands. "And that's all I'm sayin' at this time. Any more and Gabriel will have my head."

"You will tell me as soon as you confirm anything?"

Rooster shrugged. "Not up to me. But we'll figure this out. We always do. So, tell me how ya got that black-eye."

"So, what do you think?" Xavier asked. He was back in his office with Dr. McCoy seated across the desk from him. Pietro was asleep after eventually allowing Hank to give him a sleeping pill. As soon as Pietro was unconscious, Hank slipped the IV back into him, prepared to remove it before he awoke.

"He said his vision was blurry, but that should clear up within a day or two. His vocal cords sound torn, so we need to keep him from talking as much as possible until they heal."

"A challenging task, I suspect," Xavier commented with a slight smile. "But what is your analysis on his memory loss?"

"I found it quite surprising, actually. I didn't think his head injury was as bad as all that."

"So you don't think it was caused physically?"

"No. Most likely psychological trauma of some kind. But that's not really my field of knowledge."

"Psychological trauma is when someone represses extreme memories when the mind is too overwhelmed. You think that something happened that was bad enough that he had to block the memories to protect himself?"

"Sounds like a possibility. Especially considering the little episode he had today. What triggered it, do you think?"

"I'm not sure…" Xavier paused, his hands steepled in front of his lips. "The Brotherhood children do not trust us. Not surprising, really. However, that is a problem if they continue to stay here."

"I agree, Charles. But do you really think it wise to allow them to stay until Pietro fully recovers? That could take weeks."

"I do. For one, Pietro will feel less threatened if he sees his friends here as well. It happened last night. I believe he would have tried to run again if he saw one of us first. For another, they need to see that we will welcome them if they need help. These kids have had rough lives and have become somewhat jaded and cynical of any and all that may try and help them. If we can stop and help them here, than perhaps we can show them the right path."

Hank listened, fingering the hair on his chin as if it were a beard. "But Charles, what if our right path is not their right path? Unfortunately, they will not have the same chances and opportunities that our students will have."

"I'm talking about the path of choices. If they continue as they have then the only choice they will have is to join Magneto, and I don't think that is what they want. Each of them have special gifts that can help them excel. I don't mean their mutations. Lance, for example, is an a especially bright boy. With he had motivation, he could become anything he wanted. Even a doctor. Each of the children, ours and theirs, all of the chance to become something great. Yet, because they are Mutants, their other unique talents will be overlooked. It is what all these children must face."

"And have already faced. But back to the Maximoff boy, do you think that Magneto had anything to do with this?"

"No," Xavier said slowly. "If that were the case, then why would Pietro run away? Unlike Wanda, Pietro trusts his father. No, I think it was something completely different."

"Do you think it, whatever it could be, will come looking for him?"

Xavier shook his head. "I don't know, Hank. I really don't know."

Skycat: Hello all! I'm sure you all have noticed the little introduction I have in each chapter, and I'm sure many of you have wondered what it is. It is an introspect piece about one of the characters in this story. Can you guess who? You've got seven guesses! The person to gets the most right wins a prize! And anyone who names them all gets a grand prize and my undying shock. Hope you enjoy!