*So, I've played with the actual meaning of the song, I can do that – I have creative liscense! Anyways, a songfic for this chap because it worked so damn well. Edited, or course, for my own means. Song "I'm Still Here" and rights belong to John Rzeznik and his label . . .
History Lesson
Chapter Three: Still Here
~
Magnus opened the door for his son with one swift motion of the arms that looked so huge and powerful to the small boy. He gestured with a nod of his head to get out but all Pietro could do was sit and stare at his father. There was more silence, then a muffled sigh from Magnus. He turned on his heel and left. Pietro watched him leave, but turned his head away when his father looked back at him. Through the reflection from the window on the other side of the car he could clearly see his father's expression of disappointment. He squeezed his knees tighter to his chest as more tears silently flowed down his cheeks.
I am a question to the world
Not an answer to be heard
Or a moment
That's held in your arms
~
It was funny, he realized as he stood there. Running, running and there he was standing and waiting. His foot had begun tapping subconsciously and he had the rather unbreakable habit of checking his watch every ten seconds or so, but all in all it felt . . . liberating. He wasn't running away, and he wasn't waiting for some clueless reason of Magneto's. He was waiting for a bus that was going to take him home, back to where he was normal. There was luggage at his feet and a ticket in his hand. It was freedom.
The bus pulled in only two minutes late which was probably close to what Pietro could handle. Freedom notwithstanding, the ability to circle the world in a thought had taken its toll on his patience. Still, there was no overwhelming sensation of suffocation in the stillness around him. People moved about, passerbys, the buses pulled in and out and he stood there waiting. The world was finally moving at a pace he could stand.
Admittedly travel via bus was not his most preferable choice but he had taken some pleasure out of the idea of paying for the one-way trip with the mastercard that Magnus had given him. He had cut the card up afterward. At present, he selected the window seat at the back of the coach, sticking his bag on the aisle-side seat in the traditional don't-sit-here fashion. The bus only sat for the amount of time it took for the rest of the passengers to board and then it was off. Unexpectedly, his reflection caught his attention. Cold blue eyes, his father's cold blue eyes stared back at him.
And what do you think you'd ever say?
I won't listen anyway
You don't know me
And I'll never be what you want me to be
Why had he decided to take a bus? The thought crossed his mind idly sometime after the first half-hour of the trip. His parents, well the Maximoffs, had been overjoyed to hear he was coming back to New York. They had nearly forced him to accept their offer of picking him up, but he had finally declined. Why? Because it was about independence . . . about his own terms. It was something like that, he conceded. Driving the train of thought to the furthest reaches of his mind, he cast his attention on the scenery rolling by.
It wasn't, of course, because he wanted his father to try and stop him.
And what do you think you'd understand?
I'm a boy, no, I'm a man
You can't take me
And throw me away
~
"You're a mutant," Magnus said simply. "You're my son."
"I'm not," Pietro responded. "I have a dad."
"Merely a friend who looked after you while I was away."
"Doing what?" skepticism dripped off the child's words. He was young but he wasn't stupid.
"Making preparations. I was too busy to worry about two small children, now you're old enough to be able to help me."
"I'm not," Pietro persisted.
~
Wanda hadn't stopped crying since they left the driveway. It wasn't a secret. She was going somewhere else. Pietro sat beside her too solemn to betray his emotions. She held onto his arm, using it as an ersatz teddy-bear. Magnus hadn't even let her bring that.
"Please don't let him send me away," she whispered into her brother's sleeve between two violent sobs.
Pietro was silent.
"I'll go back home, to mom and daddy!" she shouted in Magnus' direction. The figure that was the twins' father didn't even flinch at the words. "I'll go back home . . ." Wanda began repeating. "I didn't do anything."
"I'll go back home . . ."
The men in white were waiting at the entrance to the building when they arrived. Nothing was said save only by the rain. They moved in and took Wanda away, and then she was gone. Silence. Magnus stood alongside Pietro before returning to the car. Silence. He didn't even lie to him. Silence.
And how can you learn what's never shown?
Yeah, you stand here on your own
They don't know me
Cause I'm not here
~
He looked to the Brotherhood house with much disinterest, the other option – his date – wasn't looking all that promising either.
Pietro ran again. It didn't really matter where he was going, only that he was moving and the world was not. It didn't really matter how fast he ran either and somewhere inside him, though he refused to believe it, he knew it too. It wasn't that he was escaping his life – it was his life that was escaping him. He was doing the footwork but the reality was that he was the one being left in the dust.
And I want a moment to be real
Wanna touch things I don't feel
Wanna hold on and feel I belong
And how can the world want me to change?
They're the ones that stay the same
They don't know me
Cause I'm not here
~
A little girl wandered over to where he sat and began playing with the strap of his suitcase. She smiled at him when he glanced over at her and showed off her doll. Pietro nodded, feeling somewhat obligated to be polite to the toddler. The girl seemed oddly familiar. Two or three seats up ahead, movement caught his eye and he realized why the child looked so familiar. A girl he had dated some two weeks ago – or was it three? – leaned over the back of her seat and whispered something in her mother's ear. Almost immediately, she leapt from where she sat and scooped up the toddler, casting a scowl Pietro's way in the process. She sat back down with the little girl in her lap, held onto rather securely, and made a positive effort to avoid eye contact with the stare she could feel at her back. The child waved to Pietro from where she sat upon her mother's knees. Pietro smiled back.
They can't tell me who to be
Cause I'm not what they see
Yeah, the world is still sleepin while I keep on dreaming for me
And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe
I'm the one now
Cause I'm still here
I'm the one
Cause I'm still here
I'm still here
********************************
As an FYI, for my readers given my near-impossible course-load, I have scheduled myself for (atleast) one (potentially more than one) update per weekened. So, if you're out to get me because I haven't updated in so long, consider yourself now informed of the plan. Cheers, don't forget to review!