Author's Note: Hello! Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews and sorry for the wait! Here is the new chapter and I hope you all enjoy it!

Reviewer Responses:

... : Hehehe, that just looks funny! Wow. You really think so? Well, I'm glad that you do, and thank you for telling me! I love trying to get behind characters and their actions and create rationalizations for them. Thank you for reviewing and I hope you like and review this chapter as well :).

Nessie6: Why the font is bold? I updated this story at work and while my word program and the one at work are compatible, they still do funny things when it comes to converting different fonts over. What is Pietro saying when he speaks Romanian? Nothing important. It was all gibberish and silly things people mumble when they are not thinking clearly and panicking. When he comes to his senses and says a few things in conversation, I'll translate :). Thanks for reviewing and take care girl! Keep updating ;)

DigitalAngel4U: Hehehe, Lance...motherly...hehehe! But you know what?- he is! I'm glad you're liking Pietro's bookstore family. They are about to come back into the story. I miss them :). I'm also glad you like Evan wanting to rebuild the friendship. I've read so many stories where the deterioration of their friendship was Pietro's fault...so I thought I would try something new :). I find the Sinte dialogue on a culture page and I get the Romanian from a translator page and a Romanian dictionary with words and common phrases :). Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like this chapter and will review again :) Take care!

AIMAS: Lol, here is more. Don't worry about the Romanian. When I don't translate it, it means its gibberish that wouldn't make sense in English anyway lol. Thanks for reviewing and take care!

BurnBadArt: Here's your Pietro Angst, you meanie lol! I hope you like it :). Thank you for reviewing and please review again! Take care!

DemonRogue13: :) Thank you and thank you for reviewing just about every chapter lol! Take care!

Chapter 8

"He's not in his room," Todd took the stairs by two's. "Where could he be, yo?" He joined Lance and Fred in the foyer. Both older mutants looked perplexed. They had arrived at the boarding house only minutes earlier to find it empty. There was no sign that Pietro had come back since the mission, and Mystique was nowhere to be found. Wanda had gone straight to her room and hadn't returned.

"You think Mystique took him for something?" Freddy asked.

Lance frowned and rubbed his stomach absently. "What would that something be?"

"I don't know. You know she wants revenge on Magneto, and Pietro is his kid after all. Maybe she..."

"I'll kill that bitch if she has him," Lance muttered darkly and Todd winced. Lance was starting to scare him. He had never heard him utter a death threat in that tone of voice before... a tone that indicated that he meant to follow through with what he said.

"Lance, just calm down, yo..."

"Calm down? Pietro's missing! We have no idea where he could be and he's sick; he could be hurt too!" The foundation of the house rumbled, and Fred and Todd looked around at the cracking walls in dismay.

"Lance stop! It ain't gonna help nothing, if you bring the house down on our heads!" Todd snapped. "We just... need to come up with something, that's all. You're smart, yo. If we sit here long enough, you'll come up with something; you always do."

"Pietro always does! He's the one with the plans, though most of them get us in trouble."

"And yours get us out," Freddy pointed out.

Lance sat down hard on the overstuffed sofa and rested his head in his hands. "The only other place in town I can think of is the X-place. Why they would have him, I don't know, but maybe they'll help us look."

"After what happened today, you think they'll help us?" Fred asked, sounding dubious.

"They're the good guys; they always do things no one in their right mind would consider doing for the sake of being good," Lance grumbled. "They'll help us."

Lance stood from the couch, "Everybody go change, then we're gonna go to the Institute."

"Should we tell Wanda?" Todd glanced up the stairs and Lance shook his head.

"She wouldn't care anyway," Lance shrugged.

They all went up to their respective rooms to change and were back down in moments. As they walked to the door, they heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the driveway. The single headlight flared in through the front window and died along with the engine. Lance held out a hand to keep Todd behind him as he completed his trek to the door. Slowly he opened it and waited as whoever it was came to the doorstep.

Todd gasped when he recognized the approaching figure. It was Wolverine. Quickly, he ran to get behind Lance followed by Freddy. There was no way they were going to let Lance take on Wolverine by himself.

"What do you want?" Lance asked, his voice tainted with just the right amount of indifference to not seem anxious.

Wolverine folded his arms over his chest and glared at Lance silently before gruffly answering, "Quicksilver's at the mansion."

"What? Why is he there?"

"Seems he had a little fainting spell on Spyke, and he got mixed up with our kids. He's in the infirmary being checked out. The Professor sent me to give you the message."

Todd felt his heart skip in relief. Pietro was ok; he was with the...enemy. He grabbed Lance's arm.

"He's ok?" Lance questioned.

"He's alive," Wolverine growled. "He was pretty damned lucky our kids still wanted to help him after the stunt you pulled tonight."

Lance narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, whatever. We're coming to get him. Are you guys gonna let us in without a fight or what?"

"I wouldn't be here telling you where he was, if I was looking forward to a fight," Wolverine rolled his eyes. "Follow me back to the mansion."

Wolverine turned and walked back to his motorcycle, and Lance sighed, jingling his keys in his hand. "Come on guys, lets go get Pietro."

Todd nodded, "Wait... shouldn't we grab something for him? Like a jacket, some clothes? All he had on was his uniform when we left."

Lance inclined his head at the thought, "Get a jacket and something for him to wear, Todd, and be quick about it. You got 60 seconds."

Todd gave a short yelped and hopped toward and up the stairs as fast as he could. He opened the door to Pietro's room and went straight for his closet. He pulled down a leather jacket, a pair of blue jeans, and a long sleeved black shirt. He thought about grabbing socks and shoes briefly and shrugged. Pietro could just wear his Quicksilver sneaker-boots. That would make a major fashion statement, he snickered.

He hopped back down the stairs with his good after turning off Pietro's light and closing the door. "Hurry up Todd!"

"Coming, I'm coming!" Todd was out of breath by the time he reached his friends.

"It's about time."

"Hey! I'd like to see one of you guys do that faster," Todd grunted. They piled into the jeep and waited for the motorcycle to rev up and take off, before cutting on the headlights and pulling out of the driveway.

"Hey, why do you think we gotta go get Quickie? Why couldn't Wolverine just bring him?" Todd frowned. "You think something's wrong with him?"

No one said anything.

"Oh man."

Fred had been told to wait in the lobby. He was too large to fit into the small room the X-Men were keeping Pietro in. Lance assured him that he and Todd wouldn't take very long in there, and that they would come right out with a sheepish Pietro between them. It had been 30 minutes, and Fred hadn't seen anything but the occasional X-Geek walk by, gazing at him fearfully. He didn't dignify their looks with responses.

What could be taking so long? Fred would have paced if he wasn't afraid he might break something in the delicate X-mansion. He was so clumsy and people around there might actually care if something got broken. They had things worth caring about.

"Fred." Fred's head jerked in the direction of the room Lance, Todd, the Professor, Summers, and Grey had disappeared into. Summers closed the door behind him and walked toward him, his face free of any distaste.

"What is it?" Why hadn't Lance or Todd come out?

"Lance asked me to come out and tell you everything's fine. He said you might be upset at them taking so long," Summers took across from Fred on the couch.

"What's going on in there? Why is it taking so long? I mean, this is Pietro we're talking about." Fred tried not to sound afraid, but he failed.

"Fred," Summers frowned, "Pietro's very sick. I'm sure you knew that right?"

"Yeah, he's had the flu for a few days now," Fred nodded. "We....we didn't want to take him with us tonight, but Mystique said we had to. He's... not dying or something is he?"

"Not if we're careful," Summers said softly.

Fred's heart leapt into his throat and his stomach hollowed and dropped to the floor. For once in his life, Fred felt he had lost his ever-present appetite. "Oh God..."

"Calm down," Summers said. "Lance will be out to talk to you in a minute, and he's only going to tell you what I'm about to say. If you'd rather wait for him to..."

"What Summers? Tell me now!"

"Pietro will have to stay at the Institute. Mr. McCoy is giving him treatment intravenously and he needs to be monitored closely for allergic reaction or any sign of decline in his condition."

"Ok... And if he stays here and you guys take care of him, he'll be ok?"

Summers nodded his head, "Hopefully."

Fred frowned, "But why are you guys helping us? I know you're the good guys and all, but we just trashed you. If I was you, I would have thrown us out."

"The X-Men don't work that way Fred. We help whoever needs it."

The door to the room opened again and Lance and Todd came out. Lance looked sick and Todd looked like a small child after a slasher film. Summers stood, "I'll..uh...leave you guys alone. Lance, I'll bring some stuff down for you, ok?"

Lance's shoulders tensed. "Yeah, ok. T...thanks."

"No problem," Summers left the lobby.

"Why's he bringing stuff down for you, Lance?" Fred asked. Lance's dark eyes were heavy, and he walked as if a large block of cement sat atop his shoulders. He stopped before Fred and knelt down a bit to touch his knees.

"Freddy, he's so sick. He's so delirious he can't understand English, much less speak it. McCoy says he's got some kind of pneumonia and his mutation is affecting it and making it multiply faster than he can fight it. He's got him on all sorts of IV's, one's feeding him, one's giving him water, one's giving him medicine." Lance grimaced and bowed his head onto one of Fred's knees. "This is all my fault. I knew it was a bad idea; I knew I should have told Mystique to go screw herself and made him stay home. He wasn't this bad when we left..."

"Lance, he didn't do anything tonight. He didn't use his powers at all," Todd tried to comfort Lance. He came and laid a hand on Lance's quivering back. "It would have happened anyway. Maybe... maybe it was a good thing he came with us. If it would have happened at home, no one would have been there to help him. And even if we had been home, what would we have done, yo?"

"It wasn't just tonight, Todd! All the training and going to school... I let him exhaust himself. I shouldn't have let Mystique boss us around. She left us for months to fend for ourselves and be our own people, and when she returned, we became her lapdogs all over again. What power does she really have over us? If we were to say no, what could she do? Could she really take all of us? She's not with Magneto anymore."

"But Lance, she's our boss... She gave us the boarding house," Fred stuttered, shocked at Lance's outburst.

"And what a fine place that is, too," Lance sneered.

"But Lance, without the boarding house, where else do we have to go? I'm not going back to my Mom, yo... and you're almost 18; you're out of luck when it comes to social services now. And Fred...nobody wants him! And what about Pietro? Think old Mags would come for him again? Face it Lance: we're nobody's, we're losers, we're the kids no one wants... if someone's willing to give us a chance, we gotta take it."

"In that case Mr. Tolensky..."

Lance raised his head from Fred's knee, and both Todd and Fred's heads snapped to the door Professor Xavier was rolling out of followed by Jean. "I'm willing to give you a chance."

Todd pressed his lips together in a thin line, "I already took a chance here. You didn't want me."

"Maybe if you had come here with good intentions, we would have been nicer," Jean said sharply. "You came in here and started fighting with Kurt. You caused over 500 dollars worth of damage to the hallway."

"Five-hundred dollars is nothing to you!" Todd spat.

"Did you even apologize?"

"For what?" Todd blinked.

Jean sighed and said nothing else.

"Todd, we did not have the best of beginnings, but we're willing to try again. You do not have to become X-Men; that is not a requirement of my students."

"But we'll have to pay you back somehow, right?" Lance stood up. "I already tried the X-Man thing and it didn't work out, but I can't offer you anything else. I don't have any money. I can work, but..."

"Lance, I don't want money or anything else from you, but cooperation. The only thing I will expect from you is good behavior and restraint from using your powers in public."

"That can't be all. There has to be some kind of a catch to it," Fred said flatly. There was always a catch.

"I assure you Fred, there is no catch," Professor Xavier said calmly.

"No..." Fred was shaking his head. There had to be something. No one really does something for nothing. A light bulb flashed in Fred's brain. "You know who Pietro's father is. You figure if you have his son then maybe you can get Magneto to back off!"

Jean gasped beside the Professor; obviously, she hadn't known.

"Yes Fred, I know all about Pietro's heritage, but that is not why I'm going to help him. I have had no thoughts of Magneto at all."

"How do we know that? We ain't telepaths..."

"The Professor wouldn't lie!" Jean said.

"But..."

"Fred...Todd..." Lance looked at them both with dull eyes. He looked dead tired, defeated. "I don't really care what the Professor may be helping us for at this point. All I know is that they can help Pi in a way we can't. I'm not leaving him here alone, and if we take him out of here, he'll die. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of living hand- to- mouth in a dump that only has hot water once a month. I'm tired of worrying about bills and food. I'm just damn tired, and I can't take anymore. Who knows when Mystique will leave us again? If we tell her we're not going to do everything she says anymore, that Quicksilver is out of commission-- do you really think she's gonna stick around?"

Fred blinked, "Lance..." He wanted to argue and say that they were doing ok on their own, they never needed Mystique and if she left it would be ok, but he'd be lying. He wanted to whine and say that he didn't want to live in the X-Mansion with Jean Grey, but he'd only bring more stress to Lance. The burden of taking care of them all always fell on the older boy's shoulders.

"If you promise I won't have to do the X-Man thing again and Summers will stay off my case, I'm willing to try the mansion again. It's better than any other options we have...and it's not like we have a lot to choose from."

Fred looked to Todd who was scowling.

Lance sighed, "You guys don't have to stick with me on this. Just because I'm giving up doesn't mean you have to. You can continue on with Mystique how you were if you want, but this is it for me. No more."

"But that will split the group, Lance! We can't split up," Todd wailed.

Pain flashed in Lance's eyes and he whispered, "I'm sorry Todd."

"So that's it then?" Todd demanded. "All that junk you told me about us staying together to the end- about us being family; just cause we ran into some hard times you're ready to give it all up?"

"Todd, nothing would have to change if you would just choose to stay here..."

"I'm not staying in a place where everyone thinks they're better than me! The X-Geeks won't accept us! I don't want to live in another place where I'll be judged on my background and appearance. You guys don't care what I look like or that my Ma's no good. All of us are misfits. The Brotherhood- the Boarding House, it's a safe house for people like us! We can't sell out, Lance! So you don't like Mystique, so we have more bills than money, like Fred said earlier, we were doing ok. We'll try harder; I'll try harder! All together we can tell Mystique to take a hike..."

"She owns the Boarding House. What happens if she sells the land or reports us as vagrants?" Lance asked. "Todd, the Brotherhood is a dead end."

"I don't know!" Todd exclaimed. "I don't... Oh God, Lance! I can't live here, but I don't want to split the group either. Why can't we just stay until Quickie gets better, then we can all leave."

"Todd, we don't know how long that's going to take. It may be just like living here."

"Then you stay until he's better, then you come back," Todd said. "Just promise me you'll come back to us."

Lance covered his face with his hands, "I don't want to go back, Todd."

"You'll feel different after you've had a break from it. After a week or two you'll be so ready to come home, like you were the last time you stayed here..." Todd was close to begging. His golden eyes watered as he stared at Lance desperately. Lance looked away, his eyes also damp. Fred watched the exchange silently. He knew, as Todd did, that he would go back to the boarding house. He had no desire to be stared at like a side show at a circus either, but he held no ill will toward Lance for wanting to stay. If Lance thought he would be happier there, then he had Fred's blessings.

"Freddy..." Todd's asked weakly.

"I'll go wherever you do, Todd," Fred said gently. He and Lance shared a knowing look.

"Lance... please?"

Lance looked down at the floor, then back at Todd. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, squeezing until his knuckles turned white. "Todd..."

"When Pietro's better you'll both come back, ok? Just...just say it."

"I... I..."

"Don't make me beg in front of the X-men, Lance, please," Todd croaked.

"Todd, don't make Lance choose," Fred finally put himself into the spat. He shot Lance a worried look as one of the older boy's arms wrapped around his middle. He was probably going to throw up after this. Todd was in such emotional distress that he couldn't see Lance's physical distress.

"Freddy, he's leaving us! Don't you care? He wants to leave us!"

"Todd, Lance ain't happy where he is right now..."

"Us being apart won't make it better..." Todd muttered.

"Todd, he's gotta try something new. He's making himself sick. If he stays, we'll be here again with him in Pietro's place."

"Fred, you don't have to..." Lance began.

"Shut up, Lance. You do what's best for you, ok? Don't you worry about us none. I'll take care of Todd; we'll be ok. You stay here with Pietro, and when he's all better and he wants to come back and you decide to come back with him, then it's all good. If you don't...then it's still good, because that will mean that you found something that made you happy. You were always trying to make sure all of us were ok, but you never did anything for yourself. Stay Lance; don't come back. I don't wanna see you tearing yourself up no more. You're good-looking, you're smart, you're almost legal... you got a lot more going for you than I do, buddy, and I don't wanna see you wasting it on us."

"You mean that Freddy?" Lance asked, staring at Fred with an emotion shining in his eyes that Fred couldn't identify.

Fred nodded, feeling a trifle uncomfortable with the way Lance was looking at him.

"You both can drop dead!" Todd yelled. He pushed past Lance and moved around Freddy in a dead run.

"Todd!" Lance was going to give chase but Fred put out an arm to stop him.

"Let him cool off. He won't be looking for any trouble tonight. I'll go back to the boarding house, and I'll bet he'll show up there some time or other. I'll bring you and Pietro some stuff in the morning. Just call and tell me what you need."

Lance nodded, looking for all the world like a lost 10- year-old.

"And... I guess someone should tell Wanda her brother's safe. I'll do that. I don't know what I'm gonna tell Mystique... Should I tell her you're here?"

"She'll figure it out," Lance said quietly. "You won't have to say anything to her."

"All right," Fred nodded. He and Lance were quiet and finally their attention shifted back to the Professor and Jean who had been silent spectators of their emotional altercation. Feeling extremely self conscious, Fred asked, "Can I use your jeep?"

"Of course." Lance dug in his pocket for the keys and dropped them into Fred's large palm.

"Well, I'll see you," Fred shifted a bit and began to move toward the lobby exit, when Lance hugged him- or rather, tried to hug him; there was no way his arms were long enough to wrap around Fred's bulk. Fred was stiff in Lance's hold, slowly he relaxed and patted the other boy's back.

"Thank you," Lance told him.

Fred smiled, "I'll see about filling the tank up on the jeep. No use in bringing it back to you on empty."

"It's always on empty."

"It won't be come morning, ok? Get some sleep, and tell Pietro I was here, if he...you know," Fred ended awkwardly. "Just take care of him, and don't forget to call me in the morning and let me know what you want me to bring ya."

"I won't. Goodnight, Fred."

"Goodnight."

Wanda had scrubbed the makeup from her face as soon as she had gotten in and ay on her bed in an oversized t-shirt reflecting on what had happened earlier that night. Pietro bringing her dinner, the mall where she'd thoroughly beaten the X-Men, and then returning to the boarding house...without Pietro. Her brother was missing and she didn't know how to feel about it.

She had been planning to talk to him that night. She wanted to find out what happened the night their father had her locked away. She wanted to know about his life afterward. Maybe he'd been miserable too. When she was younger, she would have believed that he was. Pietro couldn't do anything without her; she was his security blanket.

The others were out looking for him. Where else could he be? The muscles in her stomach clenched and she gritted her teeth against the feelings of... fear and concern? She shouldn't feel those sorts of things for Pietro. He had betrayed her; he'd forgotten about her...

She didn't know if that was true anymore and...

Oh, who was she fooling? She was scared to death something awful had happened to him. He had looked and sounded horrible when they'd gone into the mall. She wanted to say something; she should have said something... but she kept telling herself it wasn't her business; she would talk to him later that night. Now here it was later, and she was alone.

Why hadn't the others asked her if she had wanted to come with them to look for her brother?

They were afraid of her. Everyone was afraid of her, but she gave them no reason not to be. If she frightened anyone who tried to get close to her away, she wouldn't have to worry about them hurting her later. She was lonely as hell, but in a perfect state of homeostasis, except when it came to Pietro.

She was always making exceptions for Pietro.

"Wanda, they're playing kick ball!" Pietro stared out of their bedroom window wistfully. Wanda turned her head away from the small black and white television where she was watching Jeopardy to study him. Her brother was small for their age, smaller than her, and his eyes sometimes seemed too large for his thin face. It gave him a hungry look that grew sharper when he wished he could do things like the kids they went to school with.

Living with their father was different than living in the caravan in Transia. With father, they were only allowed to speak English; if they were heard speaking Sinte or Romanian they were spanked. Wanda hated English; she hated the abrupt endings to the words, and hated the way the kids at school teased her about her accent. She hated the strict schedule Father made them keep. She hated the lab, but most of all she hated the American kids. In the caravan, the kids hadn't liked them much either, but at least they hadn't been ridiculed for their speech along with their background and appearance. In Transia, they'd had Mama and Tata, they'd had cousins who were a little older, but who would play with them; they had been happy. Here they had nothing.

"I want to go outside," Pietro said, pressing a tiny hand against the glass pane of the window.

"We can't," Wanda said. She turned back to the television. The mousy looking woman with glasses had gotten the Daily Double. She sighed and added Jeopardy to the list of things she hated too. She would change the channel, but sadly, it was the only one that came in clearly that Father approved of. They were not allowed to watch cartoons or sitcoms, so the television never held Pietro's attention for long.

"Father's not here right now. He wouldn't know," Pietro began to tap his feet on the wooden floor impatiently.

"Father knows everything," Wanda said flatly. "Besides, the kids won't let us play. We're weird, remember?"

"They let me play with them at recess today," Pietro said softly.

Wanda had been in time out for recess for being rude to the teacher. Pietro hadn't told her he'd played with the other children. "They let you play?"

"Yes. I just got in the line they make to choose teams, and one of them chose me. After the game, they said I was cool. They'll let me play again tomorrow; I just know it. You can play too!"

"I don't want to play with them!" Wanda snapped; on the outside she showed insolence, but inside she ached. She knew the kids wouldn't want her to play. They'd only approached Pietro because she wasn't with him. Pietro was the likeable one, though he was stranger in appearance than Wanda. He was the one that their cousins had payed more attention to when they played with them. The teacher in their American school had never given Pietro a time out, though he deserved one more than most of the other kids for his mischief.

Pietro frowned. "I don't want to stay inside all day. It's so pretty out, and... Father's not here."

"If he finds out we went outside, he'll punish us," Wanda said gravely. She turned off the television and looked at Pietro, who was staring at her. When had he looked away from the window?

His large blue eyes were so sad. "I just want to play. I'm bored."

Pietro was always bored.

"How come we never fit in wherever we go? There's always something that holds us back. In the caravan, it was how we looked; here it's father."

"And how we look too!"

"Not anymore, the kid's have forgotten already. American kids don't care who they play with, Wanda. I wanna play, and... I'm going to." Pietro jumped off the window sill. "You don't have to come, but..."

"I don't want to. I don't like them."

"You don't like anyone," Pietro sighed.

Wanda frowned. "Except you."

Pietro gave her a small smile. "Except me. So, for me, will you come?"

"We'll be punished..."

"Only if we get caught. Father won't be home for another hour. If you keep the time, we'll be back before then!"

Wanda groaned. She didn't want to play kick ball; she didn't like the other kids; she didn't want to take the risk of being caught...but for Pietro... She gazed at him; he was so small and his eyes were so hopeful. Reluctantly, she stood up. "Let me put my shoes back on."

Pietro beamed at her and ran to get her shoes for her. "You can put them on outside! Hurry before they finish picking teams!"

Pietro was out the door at a speed that made Wanda blink. There was no way she was going to make it down the apartment stairs in time to catch up with him. She shook her head and glanced back at their small bedroom devoid of anything to personalize it. This was her sanctuary in New York and she hated to leave it when she didn't have to... except when it came to Pietro.

One day he was going to be the death of her...

Wanda sat up on the bed. Well if the Brotherhood hadn't invited her to join them, who said she still couldn't go on her own search for Pietro? She'd probably have better luck than any of those idiots anyway. How long had it been since they'd left? Maybe an hour...

She heard the door open and close downstairs and heard the lumbering footsteps of someone coming up the stairs. It could only be Fred. He was the only one big enough to make that much noise coming up the stairs. She didn't hear any more noise, making her wonder if the others were with him. She went to the door, opening it and peering out. The hallway was dark and Fred was but a large featureless mass trudging to his room.

Should she ask him? She'd never spoken directly to the giant before, but still... downstairs was so quiet. It was painfully obvious he had been the only one to enter the dwelling. "Fred?"

The giant paused and slowly maneuvered his large body around to face her. "Uh...Wanda."

"Did you find my brother?"

The giant fidgeted. "Uh...yeah. He's... uh...with the X-Men. Lance is with him."

Wanda's brows knitted together. Why was Pietro there?

"He's sick, Wanda, and the X-Men are gonna take care of him for a while. Lance is gonna stay."

Wanda forced herself to remain calm. Fred was telling her things she already knew. She knew Pietro was sick. Why was he with the X-Men? "Why is he staying there?"

Fred gulped audibly, "He's... really sick. The X-Men... Lance- they think he'll die, if we move him. He's got some weird pneumonia, and..."

They think he'll die... die... Pietro might... She heard the mirror break behind her in her bedroom and Fred started in fright. Calm down...calm down, she breathed. "Where are the X-Men? Where are they keeping him?"

"Their mansion...you... you don't want to go there, do you?"

Wanda growled at his stupidity. Of course she did! "Take me there."

"But I..."

"TAKE ME THERE!" Light bulbs sparked and shattered as Wanda fought to control herself.

"O...ok!" Fred cried. He moved past her warily as she glared at him. She was sure he hadn't been trying to frustrate her on purpose, but she couldn't help being angry with him. Stupid Blob.

Wanda slipped back into her room, avoiding broken glass and found a pair of baggy black jeans and her boots to put on. Fred hadn't even made it to the bottom of the staircase before she joined him. He glanced back at her nervously. "We have to get gas first; Lance's jeep is running on fumes."

Wanda scowled, but nodded. They had just reached the door, when it opened. Mystique stood silhouetted there with a pleased grin on her face. "You were successful tonight."

Fred said nothing, and Wanda blinked.

"I have new plans for you, now. Tomorrow we will go over them and begin training. Where are you going?"

"Um... to...uh get gas for the jeep," Fred stammered.

"Get it in the morning. You need to rest; tomorrow will be a busy day for you," Mystique folded her arms over her chest.

Wanda chewed the side of her cheek, trying to hold her temper in check. Mystique was keeping her from her objective. "Move, Mystique."

Mystique raised a brow curiously. "Why are you so anxious to get gas?"

"It's none of your business," Wanda growled. "I'll move you, if you won't do it yourself."

Mystique's yellow eyes narrowed. "You'll what? What's going on here?" She stared at Wanda and Fred. "Where are the others?"

"Gone," Wanda stated. "We're going to find them."

"Gone? Gone where?" Then the shapeshifter gasped as she was hit in the chest by a hex bolt. She fell backward and Wanda stepped over her body. "Come on, Blob!"

Fred looked terrified but he followed quickly, throwing glances over his shoulders at Mystique who was trying to get up and come after them. Wanda smirked as the woman struggled. She wouldn't be able to get up until Wanda and Fred were at least a mile down the road.

Fred cranked up the jeep and stared at Wanda, "I can't believe you did that!"

"She was in my way," Wanda said simply, buckling her seatbelt.

They backed out of the driveway as country music blared at them from the jeep's speakers. Wanda rolled her eyes at the warbling tune, but held her peace. She was getting her way after all.

"Wanda? Why do you care where Pietro is? You're not gonna try to hurt him are you?"

Wanda cracked her knuckles. How dare he ask her that?

"I can't take you there, if you're gonna hurt him."

Wanda was tempted to hit Fred with a hex bolt, but that might cause an accident, so instead she answered him. "I'm not going to hurt my brother."

"Oh. Then...why?"

Wanda was quiet. If the idiot couldn't figure it out, then she wasn't going to tell him. Fred cleared his throat and turned up the music.

Good boy; maybe he wasn't so stupid after all.

Author's Note: Well that's it. Did you like it, hate it, didn't care either way? Just let me know-- by REVIEWING! Thanks so much and take care!