Disclaimer- I don't own Pietro, Wanda, or Magneto. I also do not own Django
and Marya Maximoff. Marvel owns them all.
Author's Note- I actually thought a lot of this on the bus on the way home from school. It sounded really well in my head, so I hope it sounds as good typed. There are swears in this chapter.
Summary- This story is about when Pietro and Wanda were being raised by Magneto and beyond that. Prologue is basically about Pietro's anger towards his father and how they were treated.
Prologue- Thank You, Father, For Everything
People always say I must have had the luckiest childhood. They assume I was spoiled rotten, just because of the way I act. There is a reason for the way I act, but no, it's not from being spoiled. Far from it.
I remember when I first met that monster. Oh, how happy I was! I had another father! Me and Wanda didn't have to be orphans anymore! From that moment on, all I wanted to do was please him. Show him how much I loved him. Show him how much I cared.
We should have never gone with him. He saved our lives, yes, but then something more horrible came with that package, and from this day on, my worst fear was a simple little object. Needles. How I loathe them, how I allowed him to prick at me with those vile instruments, injecting me with his power enhancing supplements. Of course, he really had no idea what the liquids would do to us, he only had a hypothesis. If they proved to be useful, making us more powerful and in control, he would inject himself with the substance.
We were his guinea pigs. His test subjects.
I remember a time when Wanda loved just about anything. She was such a happy girl. Now she's colder than me. She's angrier than me. She's hateful and is bent on revenge. She hates father.
She hates me. For whatever reason.
Thank you, Father, for turning my sweet innocent sister into a cruel and cold-hearted teenager. Thank you for helping her make her hate me.
But you fixed that didn't you? You just couldn't have her chasing after, after your blood. You implanted in her mind false memories. Memories of picnics, amusement parks, candy stores, fireworks. You filled her head with a bunch of bull crap. You didn't even bother putting me into a lot of her memories. Where was I? Do you know how hard it is to explain that to her? You took all of the truth away. The truth that you are a monster.
Why didn't you just change my memories as well? How come Wanda gets the knowledge of a peaceful childhood, while I get the horrid truth of it all? It would be easier if you would have just changed mine as well.
All I ever wanted was to have the father-son relationship that there should have been. All the boys at school, their fathers take them to boy scouts and play catch, bring them to baseball games. I never had the luxury of any of those things.
I watched as the other boys shot hoops with each other. I saw them play one- on-one with their dad while I would walk past their house.
I played alone.
I never got a birthday card from you. I never got a birthday present, unless you count the innumerable injections. I hardly do.
The boys would come to school, showing off their new baseball mitts that their dads had gotten them.
I never even had a baseball glove.
Not while father was there, anyways.
After all of this, why, why do I keep coming back to you, Father? After all the things you have done to me? To Wanda?
The most inexcusable thing you did was that you took Wanda away.
And I let you.
The twin bond me and Wanda share is not particularly strong, but when we drove away from that place, that horrible, horrible place, I felt a gaping hole in my heart. I guess when we were together I was always subconscious of her heartbeat next to mine, of her presence in my mind.
Thank you, Father, for ruining me even further.
You bastard.
We were scorned for showing weakness, scorned for not trying harder, scorned for mistakes. Especially me. You hurt me in so many ways, Father. I can never forgive you for that.
Perhaps that is why I always seek challenges. To prove myself. To prove myself to you all! To prove I am worth it, that I am strong. To prove that I am powerful, when really, I'm just as weak and cowardly as you all. I wanted to prove myself above all others, but I'm not.
I hadn't realized until now how much you have ruined me.
Fuck you. Fuck you, you bastard.
Yet still, what draws me to you over and over again? Maybe hope, perhaps, that you might in some twisted way care about me? Love me?
I never even heard my father say 'I love you.'
I am still waiting for that day. Maybe perhaps, why I come back to you over and over again is because, in fact, you are my father.
Blood IS thicker than water.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N- So, what do you think? The rest of the story is basically Pietro's and Wanda's childhood. This was just a little prologue, introducing you to how the characters feel. Well, I hope you like it. R&R! Check out my other stories.
Author's Note- I actually thought a lot of this on the bus on the way home from school. It sounded really well in my head, so I hope it sounds as good typed. There are swears in this chapter.
Summary- This story is about when Pietro and Wanda were being raised by Magneto and beyond that. Prologue is basically about Pietro's anger towards his father and how they were treated.
Prologue- Thank You, Father, For Everything
People always say I must have had the luckiest childhood. They assume I was spoiled rotten, just because of the way I act. There is a reason for the way I act, but no, it's not from being spoiled. Far from it.
I remember when I first met that monster. Oh, how happy I was! I had another father! Me and Wanda didn't have to be orphans anymore! From that moment on, all I wanted to do was please him. Show him how much I loved him. Show him how much I cared.
We should have never gone with him. He saved our lives, yes, but then something more horrible came with that package, and from this day on, my worst fear was a simple little object. Needles. How I loathe them, how I allowed him to prick at me with those vile instruments, injecting me with his power enhancing supplements. Of course, he really had no idea what the liquids would do to us, he only had a hypothesis. If they proved to be useful, making us more powerful and in control, he would inject himself with the substance.
We were his guinea pigs. His test subjects.
I remember a time when Wanda loved just about anything. She was such a happy girl. Now she's colder than me. She's angrier than me. She's hateful and is bent on revenge. She hates father.
She hates me. For whatever reason.
Thank you, Father, for turning my sweet innocent sister into a cruel and cold-hearted teenager. Thank you for helping her make her hate me.
But you fixed that didn't you? You just couldn't have her chasing after, after your blood. You implanted in her mind false memories. Memories of picnics, amusement parks, candy stores, fireworks. You filled her head with a bunch of bull crap. You didn't even bother putting me into a lot of her memories. Where was I? Do you know how hard it is to explain that to her? You took all of the truth away. The truth that you are a monster.
Why didn't you just change my memories as well? How come Wanda gets the knowledge of a peaceful childhood, while I get the horrid truth of it all? It would be easier if you would have just changed mine as well.
All I ever wanted was to have the father-son relationship that there should have been. All the boys at school, their fathers take them to boy scouts and play catch, bring them to baseball games. I never had the luxury of any of those things.
I watched as the other boys shot hoops with each other. I saw them play one- on-one with their dad while I would walk past their house.
I played alone.
I never got a birthday card from you. I never got a birthday present, unless you count the innumerable injections. I hardly do.
The boys would come to school, showing off their new baseball mitts that their dads had gotten them.
I never even had a baseball glove.
Not while father was there, anyways.
After all of this, why, why do I keep coming back to you, Father? After all the things you have done to me? To Wanda?
The most inexcusable thing you did was that you took Wanda away.
And I let you.
The twin bond me and Wanda share is not particularly strong, but when we drove away from that place, that horrible, horrible place, I felt a gaping hole in my heart. I guess when we were together I was always subconscious of her heartbeat next to mine, of her presence in my mind.
Thank you, Father, for ruining me even further.
You bastard.
We were scorned for showing weakness, scorned for not trying harder, scorned for mistakes. Especially me. You hurt me in so many ways, Father. I can never forgive you for that.
Perhaps that is why I always seek challenges. To prove myself. To prove myself to you all! To prove I am worth it, that I am strong. To prove that I am powerful, when really, I'm just as weak and cowardly as you all. I wanted to prove myself above all others, but I'm not.
I hadn't realized until now how much you have ruined me.
Fuck you. Fuck you, you bastard.
Yet still, what draws me to you over and over again? Maybe hope, perhaps, that you might in some twisted way care about me? Love me?
I never even heard my father say 'I love you.'
I am still waiting for that day. Maybe perhaps, why I come back to you over and over again is because, in fact, you are my father.
Blood IS thicker than water.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N- So, what do you think? The rest of the story is basically Pietro's and Wanda's childhood. This was just a little prologue, introducing you to how the characters feel. Well, I hope you like it. R&R! Check out my other stories.