Author's Note: Just for clarification, this is Wanda from the comics, but with Evolution Wanda's past. Mmkay?
Chapter Two- Father To Daughter
Wanda sat near stone still, feeling the raw power lurking just inside her reach. All she had to do was call for it, and she could bring this entire helicopter crashing to the ground. All she had to do was wish...
She was brought back to the present when the movement stopped. She looked up, startled, ready for almost anything. The lumbering man went to the door of the helicopter, nearly tearing it off it's hinges. An angry yell from the cockpit went unnoticed, and she got up to follow her savior, shivering at the brisk breeze. Her bare feet protested to the cold concrete of the landing pad, stinging and tingling. But it was wonderful to feel. Wonderful to be able to understand what was going on around her...
She nearly ran in to her furry leader when he stopped suddenly, coming to a sharp attention. She peeked around his great form, and saw an elderly, but regal looking man regarding her. He was dressed in an impressive--and expensive looking suit, his coal grey hair swept back to reveal piercing blue eyes.
"...Wanda," he said, his voice sounding surprisingly soft. "Welcome home." she stared at him for a minute before the gravity of the situation hit her like a running tackle from the Blob.
"...father?" she asked meekly. She had last seen him the day they took her away. It was hazy, she hardly remembered it...it seemed eons ago. Wanda felt those eyes boring in to her like pieces of glass. She could hardly breathe.
"Lets get you out of the cold," he said gently. She had hardly noticed that she had began shivering-- she was dressed in the cotton pajamas that were standard issue at the asylum, and it had to be below zero outside. Wanda let herself be ushered inside, willing to hand this entire situation to someone else.
The pilot watched the exchange from the shadows, his mouth slightly agape. Never before had he seen such a beautiful woman, he...
Sabretooth walked up and punched the smaller man in the shoulder. "Don't even think about it, runt. She's Mags' friggin' daughter," they could be heard arguing throughout the halls, the pilot making a fevered defense of "Bloody hell, I wasn' even lookin' at her, you great stupid fur-ball."
"Yes you did. And you weren't lookin' in to her eyes, neither." there was a stoney silence before the pilot yanked down the hood that was covering his face. He looked to be about, or just shy of twenty--and green.
"Even if I was, who'd want me, mate? I'm Toad, remember?"