Author's Note: Hey, thank you for the reviews. Here is the next chapter; I hope you all like it :)

Chapter 5

"Where have you been?" Mystique demanded of them as they filed into the house. She grabbed Todd by the arm hard, "I spoke to the school today about your grades. They want to sent a social worker here you little idiot! I don't have time for this! And Quicksilver, the school called right after I got off the phone with them about Toad to say that you didn't show up for classes today. What happened?"

Todd pulled away from Mystique holding the arm that she had grabbed, and Lance stepped forward for Pietro. "He's sick; I took him to a friend's house."

The shapeshifter glared at the speed demon and stalked toward him testing the back of her hand against his forehead. "If you weren't..." she broke off snarling. "Go upstairs; go to bed; get out of my sight! Now!"

Lance gave the silver-haired boy a little push; Mystique was ready to blow steam from her nostrils. Pietro, bewildered, left the room. "Alright, I would like to talk to you about an upcoming mission for you, a test really"

"Test, test for what?" They hadn't trained since she'd left.

"Lets say I want to stage a small scuffle against the X-Men to raise our group morale- and to see what you're made of. You've never won a battle against them, and now with the new addition to our team, you will. I want them to get a little taste of our new weapon, to rattle them."

"So you got Wanda under control?" Lance asked looking dubious.

"She is working with a good friend of mine Agatha Harkness, and is coming along quite nicely. She is learning how to channel her anger, and direct her attacks."

"Is she over wanting to kill Quicksilver? We can't work with her if she's a danger to someone on the team."

Mystique smirked, "She has a more important agenda on her mind than the demise of Quicksilver I assure you."

"And what's that?"

"Magneto."

"He's history! He's not coming back; why bother with him, yo?" Todd spoke up.

"Revenge Toad," Mystique growled. "As I said before, this mission will be a test. You all will be proving to me that you are ready to take on Magneto if you do well. I want you all to start coming straight here after school; it's time to whip you back into shape."

"I work after school, Mystique. In fact, I have to leave in 30 minutes..."

"So quit," Mystique said flatly. "You work for me and no one else. Call them now and tell them you quit. In one hour, I want you all down here in your battle wear; I want to evaluate how much work I'm going to have to do with you." The shapeshifter turned on a heel and left.

Lance blinked, "I can't just quit. You have to send in two weeks notice."

"You gonna go against Mystique, yo?" Todd raised an eyebrow. "Be my guest, let her be mad at you instead of me for screwing up."

Lance let out a groan, "I'm gonna go down to the store and tell them what's going on."

"You're gonna tell 'em..."

"I'm gonna tell him my foster mom's being a bitch and making me quit, and I have no choice in the matter. I'll be back before she gets pissed again. One of you check on Quickie while I'm out." Lance waved a hand and back he went out the front door.

"I'll go check on Pietro," Fred said lumbering toward the stairs, but Todd jumped after him.

"I ain't staying down here by myself, yo; we'll both go check on Pietro."

Quicksilver's door was closed and the lights were off when they reached it. Fred knocked lightly then opened the door a crack. A small shaft of light fell upon the bed illuminating the large lump stationed in the middle of it. "Pietro, you asleep?"

No answer.

"I'll take that as a 'yeah.' Hey, you don't think Mystique wants him to be downstairs with us when we go wherever it is she wants to take us to train?"

Fred shrugged. "I'm not waking him up. He looks like hell." He shut the door gently. "Come on, we better try to do some homework. We don't know how long Mystique is gonna have us out, and you're just starting to get on track."

Todd let out a suspiration, "Yeah...yeah." Fred and Todd parted ways and each went into his own respective room.

Wanda Maximoff glared at her reflection in the mirror. She was an ugly, lanky, scraggly-haired witch, and she was going to do what she could to fix that. She'd been out of her prison for two weeks and living under the same roof as her traitorous brother for one week. In that week, she'd earned more control over her powers by learning to focus her anger. The one person she wanted to hurt was her father- the one Mystique called Magneto. Nothing would get in her way... but until then, destroying everything in her wake was not favorable. She didn't want to alert him to her presence early, and a bunch of major disasters all over the news might get his attention, wherever he was.

The Scarlet Witch, Mystique had named her. The name sounded sexy and passionate, and she was neither. She pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the mildewy bathtub. She didn't cringe with distaste at the state of it or the rest of the house. She'd been in worse. She draped two large towels over the shower rod and held a bottle of liquid soap, one of shampoo, and one of a red color rinse in her arms. She put them on the lips of the tub and turned on the water. The water was rusty and thick at first, before running clean and clear. She stepped under the spray and washed her body thoroughly before beginning with her hair. She tossed her head forward, frosting the bottom layers of her thick hair.

She was going to make herself look like someone who could carry the name of Scarlet Witch. She would be beautiful like her Mama Maximoff...

She watched her Mama as she ran a brush through her long lustrous black curls, she hummed to herself and motioned for Wanda to come to her. Wanda settled herself in her Mama's lap and giggled as the woman unbound her plaits and began to brush her hair. "My Wanda, you will grow to be such a beautiful woman."

"Beautiful as you, Mama?"

"More beautiful..." her Mama purred. Suddenly, Wanda was pushed aside and forced to share Mama's lap with her twin brother.

Pietro seemed to appear out of nowhere, as usual, and he wrapped his arms around Mama, burying his face in her bosom, "What about me? How beautiful am I gonna be?"

Wanda glared at him and tried to push him away; this was her time with Mama!

Mama laughed and kissed the top of his silvery head, "You'll be as beautiful as your sister."

"Yucky!" Pietro announced and crawled out of her lap. "I don't wanna look like a girl!"

"Go away, Pietro!" Wanda pouted, "Mama was brushing my hair!"

"I can brush your hair!" Pietro announced, running in small circles around the chair, and- to Wanda's horror- Mama let him have the brush. He invaded her lap territory once again, now armed with a brush. "I can make braids!"

"Mama!" Wanda wailed.

"Brush it straight for Wanda, Poppet, just like Mama's."

"Ok!" Wanda sat still and let Pietro brush her locks, surprised at how gentle he was. "Your hair's soft like Mama's, Wanda."

That made the little girl's eyes twinkle, "Really?"

"Yeah, and when you get old like her, your hair will be even longer, and you'll be as pretty...maybe." He tugged her hair then, "But...you'll never be pretty as me!"

"Thought you said you didn't wanna look like a girl; only girls are pretty!"

"No, boys can be pretty too," Mama said kindly. "We just call it 'handsome,' instead."

"I'm done!" Pietro chirped and sat back on Mama's knee, for once not squirming and Wanda rubbed her knee against his. They both giggled and Mama wrapped her arms around the both of them and hugged them, planting warm kisses on their faces.

"My beautiful babies, I love you so much. I am blessed to have you and to be able to watch you grow and mature into beautiful and handsome adults. You'll both make me so proud."

The water turned cold and she slowly shut it off, pulling the towels from the rod, one for her body, one for her hair. Would her Mama be proud to see her now, fresh out of a mental institute looking washed out and trashy? How could such a wise woman have been so wrong about how her darling little girl would turn out? Wanda stepped out of the shower and gazed at her pitiful reflection in the mirror, an image of her beautiful mother ghosted along beside her reflection. Leave me alone...

She controlled her emotions as she felt them manifesting to release in a physical manner. She would not break anything right now. She dried herself thoroughly and tied the towel around her body; she had much work to do on herself before she would look like anything. She toweled her hair and looked at the mess of streaks she'd created. She decided she liked the effect of crimson on midnight, but her hair was too shaggy; her ends too ragged. The institution wouldn't let it grow long; they always cut it carelessly to her chin. She combed the dark tangles out and started in with the shears.

As the sea of dark waves fell around her, she tried not to think about her former life. She did not like to think about happier times because they reminded her of what she had lost. She was reminded of the people who'd burned her caravan, the people who'd wanted to burn her and her brother because they thought she was a witch. She recalled Magneto doing experiments on her, poking her and her brother with things; Magneto leaving bruises on her brother's pale skin to make her obey...

A slight crack in the mirror appeared. Magneto always found ways to make her do as he willed, until he finally had her locked away. She'd never forget the cold look in his eyes as she was being carried away and the terrified look in her twin's. What would Magneto do when she wasn't there to protect him? They had never ever been apart! Why wasn't he trying to help her; why wasn't he fighting? Magneto would hurt him...

She lived in her own private hell for years dreaming of all sorts of horrible things she could do to Magneto to repay him for making she and her brother live in fear of him and for separating them and putting her there. She also had nightmares about what horrors may have befallen Pietro out of her presence. What if Magneto had killed him?

When she was freed by Mystique and told not only would she be given an advantage to fight her father with, but she'd be united with her brother her heart had soared. Pietro was alive. He was alive and not being tortured by Magneto. Why hadn't he come for her? Why didn't he try to find her? It enraged her! She'd been worrying about him for years, and he was on the outside, free of their Father, and living it up! He'd forgotten about her- how DARE he forget!!

When she'd entered the house and had seen him... older, maybe leaner than she was, and so...so handsome, his hair as platinum as it has been the day he was born, all she wanted to do was hurt him. Hurt him like he'd hurt her! How dare he be here on a team that used to belong to their Father with friends no less, looking like he'd just been disturbed from a nap! She'd nearly brought down the house expressing her anger, and it infuriated her that the others ones...her brother's friends... kept him just out of her destructive reach.

Since then she'd been training with Agatha and had no time to be bothered by her good for nothing twin brother. He didn't bother to come check on her at all either. Fine.

She didn't care; she didn't need him. He'd forgotten about her and left her to rot. He was... just like Father. He even looked like the man only prettier in an almost feminine way. She plugged in the blow dryer and ran the hot air over her damp hair, tousling it with her fingers. She gazed at the finished product in the mirror, pleased with the cropped tangle of waves on her head; raven on top, scarlet on bottom. Perfect.

She opened the small bag of makeup Mystique had given to her. She'd never learned how to apply it, but she figured it couldn't be too hard. She knew what she wanted to look like after all. She coated her eyelashes in black mascara and painted her lids dark. She spread a fine dusting of pale powder over her forehead, cheeks, and chin, evening out her complexion. Yes... she stared at her appearance, yes... She rimmed her lips with black pencil, then colored them in with blood red lipstick. She gazed at herself again, even more pleased with her new look.

She grabbed the skintight, red jumpsuit and slid into it, pulling it over her slim hips and smiling as it hugged her curves. She didn't know she could fill out an outfit in this way. Wanda studied herself, turning this way and that, pleased with her body, hair, and make up. Would she be considered sexy by a man? She would find those boys, her teammates, and see. She stepped into tall black boots, liking the shapely look they gave to her legs.

She was the Scarlet Witch.

The bathroom door crashed open and a silver blur pushed past her, knocking her into the sink on its way to the toilet. She glared at what could only be her brother for intruding and for knocking her aside. She opened her mouth to scream at him and stopped when he retched. He knelt in front of the toilet, clutching its bowl as he spit up whatever was offending his stomach at the time.

Not taking the ice from her tone when he was done, "What's wrong with you?"

"Flu..." he panted. "S...sorry for barging in." He flushed the toilet, lowered the lid, and rested his head on it.

"Whatever," she grunted. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. This was her Pietro and her heart wanted to go out to him. He was in obvious pain, and he never did deal with pain well.

But she couldn't forget what he had done; he'd abandoned her. She turned to leave. "Like your hair... looks cool."

She froze momentarily, but didn't look back at him. Was he trying to sweet talk her to make her forgive him? She slammed the door closed behind her and stormed to the room that had been designated as hers. The walls were bare, and her closet was sparsely populated. The bed was made with plain beige sheets and a large black comforter. She hadn't picked out anything; Mystique had seen to her room and her clothing. She supposed she owed the shapeshifter a lot. She'd repay her by destroying her Father. It was all Mystique wanted from her.

She laid down on the bed flat on her back. Agatha would not be coming that night, and she had nothing to do. She didn't socialize, and she didn't watch television. She had no books to read...but knowing Pietro he probably did. She wasn't about to ask him though. She didn't want to associate with him, lest she start to care again.

It was probably too late for that though... In fact she had never stopped caring, she couldn't. If she couldn't, how could he? She buried her face in a pillow.

She was going to have to talk to him sooner or later. Later would be preferable, but sooner was more probable.

"I can't eat that; I just got through throwing up," Pietro whined at the tea and toast Lance was trying to force on him.

"Pi, you know you can't skip out on eating. It's why you're not getting any better. What happened to 'I'll be over it by lunch time?"'

"Shut it up Lance, or I'll throw up on you this time," Pietro moaned leaning back on his pillows. He wanted to roll himself back into his cocoon of blankets and go to sleep.

"You've already done that- twice," Lance said. "Now sit up and try to eat this. Mystique will get pissed if you pass out again at practice."

"How come she writes me notes so I can skip P.E. at school, but she makes me train with you guys in the afternoons?" Pietro forced himself up and stared at the dry toast on television tray evilly. He nibbled on it slowly, fighting his gag reflex. "Wanda's fixed herself up. She looks good, really good."

"She talk to you?" Lance asked, setting a bottle of Tylenol in front of him.

"Other than to growl at me for disturbing her, no, but she hasn't tried to blow me up at all. That has gotta be a plus." He sipped the tea and grimaced. There was no sugar in it.

The week had been hard for him; he'd had to call Aunt Sally and Aunt Mae and tell them his guardian was forbidding him to work. The women had been so sad, and they insisted he still come by, but Mystique monopolized his time outside out school, not that he'd wanted to do much anyway because he felt awful.

He'd gone to school every day that week, only sitting out in gym. Mystique had been kind enough to write him an excuse for the week. She rode him like a work horse in her drill sessions, but she did acknowledge he was sick and didn't require much from him after practices.

He also had to endure the cold shoulder from Wanda. He was glad she wasn't trying to do him in anymore, but being ignored wasn't much better in his book. In the bathroom that day was the first time she'd spoken to him since their initial reunion. She'd looked... much better. He would never get used to seeing his Wanda as the dishrag she had been when she appeared in the landing for the first time. Her new look suited her new personality. She'd chopped her hair off short and severe and dyed the under half of it red to match her temper.

What would Mama and Tata think if they could see them now, not talking and avoiding each other? But he was too nervous to make the first move; he wanted her to do it.

Lance squeezed his shoulder, "Don't move around too much Speedy; I'm gonna get your temp after you finish up here."

"Yeah, fine." Lance left his room, trusting Pietro not to feed his small meal to the waste basket beside his bed.

He got through one piece of toast, before he could eat no more. Lance returned with Todd, Fred, and no thermometer, looking grim.

"Mystique wants to see us. I think she's finally made up her mind on when and how we're gonna move against the X-Men."

Pietro sighed, "Does that mean I gotta put on pants?"

Lance chuckled, Fred made a face, and Todd grunted, "Too much information, yo."

Pietro smirked and threw back his covers, revealing that he did indeed have on pants, though they were loose-fitting, flannel pajama-bottoms. He stood slowly, ignoring quick flash of vertigo and followed his friends out of the room.

Would he be able to get through a mission without doing something embarrassing like fainting or vomiting? He'd find out by trial error it seemed, though judging from practice the odds were not stacked in his favor.

They moved into the living room where Mystique was seated on the couch with Wanda standing at the arm of it, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed. Her cold blue eyes skimmed over and avoided Pietro's. He felt his shoulders slump and he kept close to Lance.

"It's time; I feel we are ready. An anonymous tip will be given to the X-Men that the Brotherhood will be causing trouble at the local mall this Thursday...tomorrow. You are not to actually engage in open battle with any of them. Our demonstration tomorrow is a debutante ball, almost, for Wanda. We want the X-Men to see her and some of what she can do. It would also be nice to win one, for a change. Now, I know tempers will flare, and it will be hard not to destroy property, but I'd like to keep it to a minimum. Use your new training to evade them and herd them toward the main escalator where Wanda will make her entrance."

"Hey, that's kind of cool, yo," Todd said, nodding appreciatively. He winked at Wanda slyly, and she snorted in disgust. Pietro tossed Todd a confused look. Was he hitting on his sister? Since when did Todd like Wanda?

"Practice today will be brief. Quicksilver, I don't want any blackouts this afternoon. Did you eat a sufficient meal?" Mystique's golden eyes zeroed in on him. Pietro gulped at their intensity.

How could he explain to her the recent stomach problems he'd developed. He didn't have a stomach virus, but his appetite had diminished and when he tried to make himself eat, he became ill. He and Lance had discovered that the hard way.

"Mystique, I don't think Pietro should be included in any of the upcoming plans. He's only getting worse, and he'll be more of a liability than a help. The Scarlet Witch's gonna wipe the floor with the X-Men; we don't need Quicksilver," Lance stated, laying a hand on Pietro's wiry shoulder.

Mystique's eyes blazed angrily, "Are you trying to give me orders, Avalanche?"

"No Mystique, I'm not. I'm just saying..."

"Each one of you plays a part on this team. Avalanche, you are the stupid leader they follow blindly, Blob is the muscle, The Scarlet Witch is the talent, Toad is the... an extra pair of hands, and Quicksilver is your brain! Do you go places without your brain? Though others would like to say otherwise, the truth is no. I am not accompanying you on this little mission, and someone needs to be around to be the common sense."

Todd snorted, "Pietro has common sense?"

Pietro was rather surprised to hear it himself. Mystique thought he was smart? And all this time he thought he was being kept around because of who he was.

"More than the rest of you, yes," Mystique scoffed. She looked at Pietro carefully, sizing him up, "You wouldn't let your team go off without you on the first mission you could possibly win. If it goes awry and you were not there, we'll all know who's fault it was."

Why was it always his fault went things went sour? He winced outwardly and opened his mouth to say something, but Lance beat him to it, "Stop trying to make him feel guilty Mystique. He doesn't feel well and shouldn't have to go anywhere. We'll do fine without him. It's not like we're actually doing anything all that hard anyway. We're provoking the X-Men into a fight, luring them into the trap, and then the rest is all on Wanda. We've all seen what she can do, and I doubt there will be any problems."

"Avalanche, you are trying my patience..."

"Why is it so important he go Mystique? You've got an ulterior motive, I know it. You don't give a damn about him being smart; there's something else!"

"Do not question me!"

"I can question whatever I like of you, when it has to do with the welfare of..." The house was beginning to shake, and Pietro, Todd, and Fred began looking for cover. Pietro was touched; Lance was standing up for him, but he wasn't trying to be flattened in the process. Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?

"Lance stop it! I can go; it's no problem. It'll only take, what, 30 minutes? I go to school for the full 8 hours; I think I can handle a half hour."

The glare Lance gave him made him want to hide under his bed. He hid behind Freddy, which was just as good if not better.

"It's settled then," Mystique said simply, daring Lance to speak against her again. Lance growled, "Fine."

"Practice in 15 minutes," Mystique ordered. She didn't move to leave the room and neither did Wanda. Lance gripped Pietro's elbow roughly and marched him up the stairs, followed by Todd and Fred.

The minute he got back to his room he made for his bed. His head was pounding, and it felt good to bury it in the softness of his pillow. He ignored the sounds of his friends moving around him.

"...dumb kid," he heard vaguely.

Lance sat up with Pietro that night. The silver-haired boy couldn't sleep; he kept having nightmares about fire. He wouldn't go into detail about them, but Lance had a feeling they might have been flashbacks.

Lance let Pietro quiz him for his chemistry test coming up. It gave Speedy something to do, and Lance got some much needed studying that he wouldn't have done on his own, finished. "Come on Lance, some of this stuff isn't hard. You should read more," Pietro scolded after Lance missed another question on chemical change.

He really should...he had no excuse not to anymore. He had quit his job, and felt better than he had in weeks. His employer, or rather ex-employer, had been sad to see him go. He even offered to promote him, finally. He claimed he was getting around to it anyway, but Lance doubted that.

The chemistry book on Pietro's lap was closed, and he felt blue eyes on him, "You're not even paying attention, are you?"

"Not anymore really," Lance admitted. He sighed and made Pietro scoot over on the bed. He'd been sitting in a desk chair beside for the past few hours and his butt was going numb. He plopped down beside the skinny boy. "You ever think about what's going to happen to us later? Like in the future? I mean, I'm graduating this year and while college might not be the first place I look into, I am going to have to get a job. I don't want to work in a grocery store all of my life, and those are the only places around here that hire people like me. There's not gonna be a place for me in Bayville anymore."

"Your place is with us," Pietro said simply.

Lance smiled; sometimes Pietro could be as elementary as Todd when it came to certain things, like the future for instance. "Mystique isn't sticking around here forever, Pi. When she leaves again, we'll have to fend for ourselves. Laying low is a good excuse for now because we're underage, but when we've all grown up.... Pietro, you're college material. I expect you to go away to school and get 10 degrees and make so much money you'll have to hire someone else to count it all. Fred and Todd, I'm not so sure about. I worry about them, and I worry about me."

He always got so depressed late at night, but he was usually in his room alone in the dark telling the ceiling about his fears and problems.

"Well, if I'm going to be that rich, you think I'd forget about you guys?"

"In a heart beat, if there's women involved- and knowing you, there will be."

Pietro snickered, "That could pose a problem for you, yeah. But honestly Lance, you've got a chance at college too. You're smart; all you gotta do is study a little bit."

"Where would I get the money to go?"

"Where would I get it?"

"You'd get 10 scholarships," Lance laughed. "You make straight A's, you played on a high school basketball team, you work at a nice little shop full of old ladies who can write you killer recommendations, all of your hours spent helping all of your elderly friends constitutes as community service, and you're a poor, foster child...oh yeah, you're getting scholarship money and a grant to any college of your choice."

"Geez, you're getting me excited," Pietro rolled his eyes. He began coughing roughly, doubling over his lap with both hands over his mouth. Lance rubbed his back in soothing circles until the fit was over, disturbed at how hard his friend was coughing.

"I hope you don't need antibiotics," Lance said, warily resting a cool hand on Pietro's hot brow. He didn't think antibiotics were sold over the counter, and a doctor didn't just write prescriptions. Would Mystique pay for Pietro to see a doctor? He didn't think so- not unless it was a dire emergency.

Pietro was still trying to catch his breath. He looked pained when he drew in air. "This sucks," and it was worse after running, which was why Lance didn't want him with them on their mall escapade.

"Why did you stop my argument with Mystique? You don't need to be there."

Lance had been extremely annoyed when his perfectly sound argument had been interrupted by the one he was trying to protect with it.

"You were going to shake down the house. Todd, Fred, and I were scared for our lives. Mystique wasn't backing down, and you were going to bring down the walls on our heads. I had to say something, besides... you are right. I'm not going to be of much use, which means I won't be doing anything. I'll just watch Wanda do her stuff and..."

"So that's it," Lance almost laughed at himself. Why hadn't he figured it out? Pietro wanted to watch his sister. "She can take care of herself, Pi."

"You think I don't know that. I just wanna make sure it goes well, you know. You can't tell it from her face or anything, but she's ready to show off. I don't want her to be...disappointed. Those X-Freaks have surprised us with so many different things. If I can think of some of the things they may do first, Wanda can get a clean victory. That may...lighten her up some."

"Pietro, she's not going to throw her arms around you and forgive you, because she creams the X-Geeks. Like it or not, and I know you don't like it, Wanda's issues with you are going to take time for her to get over. Fred, Todd, and I will be here to keep you from going insane while you wait, Quicksilver."

Pietro pouted and Lance grinned.

"Ok, I think I'm ready to look at more chemistry, unless you wanna try to sleep again. We do have to go to class in the morning."

"Sleep, I think." The speed demon bit his lip, then asked hesitantly, "W...will you stay? Just in case, you know?"

Lance looked into his friend's pale sweaty face and brushed a lock of damp hair off his forehead, feeling something close to paternal. "Yeah, yeah, I'll stay. Come on, lets get you comfortable."

Pietro laid on his side with his back to Lance, blankets pulled over his ears. He got chills periodically and Lance wanted him to stay bundled up. How the boy made it through school daily would always be a mystery to Lance. He'd almost lost it and brought the boy home a few times during lunch periods. He didn't like seeing good friends picking at meals with no appetite, trembling with cold though they wore two sweatshirts and a coat, and fighting to keep their eyes open because of the overdose of cold medicine they had to take to compensate for fast metabolisms.

He rubbed the thin boy's back until he heard his breathing deepen and even out. He carefully reached to retrieve his chemistry book without shifting around too much on the bed, lest he disturb Pietro, and went back to studying. He didn't feel very tired himself. He was a little nervous about the upcoming skirmish. It seemed a little silly, the whole scuffle would have no real point. Why couldn't Mystique find something important for them to do and introduce Wanda then?

Maybe it was because she wanted to see how Wanda would act in a battle situation. It was true that you didn't send green recruits into battle, especially when the X-Men might show up. They did have to make sure she could think on her feet and could control herself when the time came.

He hated not knowing Wanda better. He was the unofficial leader of their misfit band, and he knew all of his soldiers on a personal level. He had to know them, so he would know how best to protect them, and how well they'd watch his ass. Wanda wasn't about to let him get close to her though, she wouldn't even let her own twin brother in for crying out loud. He disapproved of her being on his team, but he'd held his tongue with Mystique after that first day. She'd, after all, told him he could quit his hellish job; he had to show his gratitude in some way. He watched and evaluated the girl from what she did in practice to learn her trademark moves and was still trying to figure out how to incorporate them into what he had in his mental files on the others. He was trying to rewrite game plans to include Wanda. He'd probably end up working with Pietro to figure out the best possible group scenarios. Mystique hadn't lied about Quicksilver being smart. He was a good strategist, better than Lance really, but he just couldn't get people to work for and with him like Lance could.

The old familiar pain in his gut burned a bit, and he laid the book face down on his chest closing his eyes. Leader, dependants... College, no college...graduation, leaving Bayville... Todd, Fred, Pietro, now Wanda...

How could he ever get any studying done with all of that swirling around in his head? He slowly and carefully crawled under one of the extra quilts piled onto Pietro's bed. The boy was buried under a sheet, a comforter, and two quilts, still shivering slightly. Lance turned his back to Pietro's and turned off the small lamp beside the bed. Then he pillowed his arms under his head and shut his eyes.

A little sleep would take his mind off of everything that troubled him.

That is, unless he had nightmares.

Pietro had gotten it backward; he wasn't the one being comforted by Lance's presence in the room to shield him from unwanted mental pictures. Lance felt Pietro's warm back wrapped in blankets against his, breathing rhythmically and soothing Lance into a light slumber...

It was Lance who was.

Author's Note: Ok, so how was that? Let me know! Please review!