The Adventures of Wanda Maximoff

By: Ariesque

Rated: PG or PG-13

Genre: Humor/Romance

Cautions: Mild language and violence if you may.

Disclaimer: Do not own X-Men Evo.

A/N: I'm still alive and kicking, just so you all know. And here's what I came up with (and just in time before my research paper's due). Enjoy.


January 1

There's a place deep in Bayville where I go when I feel caught up with life. It's the Concorde, a building known for being the tallest in the city: forty-two stories. It's abandoned, you see, so I made it my personal refuge, my escape. Lance showed it to me once, and since then, I've been there a few times. But I returned today when I heard the news. Xavier called me up to his Institute earlier today. Said he was really sorry about John's memory loss and I concurred and I thought the meeting was over when Xavier went on.

"I just wanted to remind you that we're doing all we can for your friend," he said, his voice dipped in sympathy. I fought the urge to make a rude remark in return. "We were able to read his brain waves and I personally had a sit-down chat with him." He then offered me coffee, but I refused. Where was this going anyway?

"Look Prof, I'm glad you're concerned and all that, but I…"

"You aren't in a rush, Ms. Maximoff." He said it so sternly that I stood there too speechless and stunned to reply. "Excuse me. But I just want to clarify something important."

I crossed my legs to show him I wasn't going anywhere. "Shoot," I said, as casually as I could. He furrowed his brow and I knew he knew I was nervous.

"St. John was in a traumatic 'bout' and therefore he woke up delusional and upset, correct?"

"Yes…" I still couldn't see where this was going.

"Well, Ms. Maximoff, it turns out he does remember someone…" I could feel my chest compress and I actually wheezed. But before I could respond, he told me. "He clearly remembers Rogue. Unfortunately, he thinks he is, shall we say, in romantic terms with her."

At that, I snapped out of it. I had gripped the arm chair so hard my knuckles had a hard time relaxing. The compression in my lungs was gone, but I was so confused with emotions, I decided to put forth a complacent front.

"Oh…" I managed for awhile. Xavier scrutinized me a bit longer before he excused himself. But before he could leave, I shouted after him, "Can I see him?" The answer was apparent before he could reply.

"Well, it would further complicate the situation if you were to try and remind him of everything you yourself have done with him. Frankly, it's painful for both sides. Give him a few days." There he was right. John could care less about me…for all I know, he doesn't even KNOW me anymore.

"Then, thank you for your time, Professor. I'm really glad you've done all you can do. Just tell me when I can see him…or actually, just don't tell me." I stood up and shook his hand.

I took the metro downtown and ended up climbing the stairs all the way up to the top of the Concorde. Sitting here by myself for more than a half hour, I realize now how lonely I have become, more so than I believed myself to be.

January 2

I spent the night up there, and returned around three in the morning. The Boys were up, no doubt waiting for me. By now, everyone knows about John. It isn't even worth caring about anymore. I think I should just let him go all together.

January 3

Everything's coming apart. I could feel humiliation seep into my being, but I'm still fighting it back. You don't understand, dear diary; I don't think anyone does. Even Remy LeBeau, who can read body language and tarot cards, cannot read my heart.

He approached me today, telling me to visit John as soon as I could. It was raining and I had been caught without an umbrella waiting for the bus. He told me, while putting his umbrella over me, that Rogue was not going back to that buffoon, especially since she is with Remy now and is very happy, thank you very much.

"I don't understand why I should go—he doesn't know I exist," I said, as complacently as I could manage. "And to put it bluntly, I don't care."

"But why, Cherie? I thought you two were together…"

"Well, you thought wrong." I put on a smirk, as if I reveled in this truth. "We were just playing. He wanted to make Rogue jealous and I wanted to get back at Father. And the funny thing is, neither of us got what we wanted."

I saw Remy's eyes flash, and I knew he was pulling our "relationship" apart. And then when he finally got it together, he nodded.

"I see, Cherie. I guess that just makes it harder for you, don't it?" He gave me a sad look that made me want to cry, but I remained composed and he gave me his umbrella, leaving me standing on the sidewalk to wait for the bus (which was an hour late, by the way).

January 4

Diary, I wish this will blow over soon. I'm tired of having people feel sorry for me. Kitty sent me flowers of sympathy, as if John died or something. Lance and Fred keep knocking on my door, asking me if I want anything, and Pietro is actually sharing his stuff with me and doesn't make a fuss when I ask him to pass the salt. This is really getting on my nerves, you know. The only one happy about this is Father, who drinks his Brandy and toasts John, announcing that John had it coming and that it was too bad Father didn't think of erasing his memory himself. At that, I hopped on the train back to Concorde to gather my thoughts. And although I've been here for three hours, I can't seem to think what to do with my life anymore.

January 5

Today as I was coming back from the Concorde, I bumped into Rogue, her arms full of groceries. I asked if she needed help and she thanked me as I took one bag full of ice cream.

"It's for Kitty…she's gonna try tah fry it," Rogue explained after I gave her a curious look.

"Good luck," I said, as we started walking to the Institute. We had gone a few good minutes in silence until Rogue turned to me, her eyes blazing green fire.

"How are you?" It was a surprising question that she posed, but I answered it nevertheless.

"Fine."

"Yah holding up okay?" I knew she was talking about John, and I huffed.

"Of course. And you?"

"Swell."

"Nice to know."

Pause. She then turned on me. "How can you just let him go on without knowing who you are?" I was a bit agitated at that, and I showed it.

"Just because he remembers you doesn't mean he'll remember me when he sees me."

"You never know," she said under her breath, but I heard.

"You know what your problem is, Rogue," I said, grabbing her shoulder to make her face me, "you never tell anyone what you really think. You disapproved of our fake 'relationship,' but now that you know he loves you still, you're doing what you can to get rid of him."

"You're talking nonsense…"

"Don't beat around the bush, darling. You want me to get through to him so he can get off your back. Well, why don't you tell him? Why don't you end it so he at least knows how you feel?" There came another pause, and we started walking again.

"But he knows how to kill…"

"I wouldn't worry about that." I turned to her and saw such pain in her face that I pitied her. "You're killing yourself over something that can be resolved easily."

I expected her to retaliate and fume, but her response stunned me. She sighed, as if relieved and defeated at the same time.

"You're right, Wanda." She actually smiled. "Ah'll do that as soon as Ah can." We had reached the manor by now, and I handed her bag of ice cream back to her. But before I could go, I heard say to me: "Don't forget to visit anyway! And if you don't visit John, well, come by and ask for me."

Hopefully now everything will get resolved and I won't have to ever run into John for all this.

January 6

I'm not gonna lie to you dear diary. I'm curious to see John. All the Boys have seen him, but God knows I'll be the last person on this planet before I try and see John myself. Pietro says he's healthy, but he doesn't remember any of them. Any of them except Rogue. But I can't risk another run down of my feelings: that was horrible for me. Love is a horrible thing in this case.

January 7

Ran into Remy again. He looked pretty happy and even gave me a warm hug when he saw me today. He told me about how Rogue spoke to John and that they were mutual friends in good standing.

"And you missed John a few hours ago," he said, smiling. "We went downtown and he was in good spirits and happy…everything's all right now, Wanda, it is." He looked down at me proudly.

"I'm glad, Rems, I am." I forced a smile and Remy saw right through it.

"Then go see him." I frowned, and looked away. "It'd do you some good…"

"Xavier wouldn't want me doing that. I might jeopardize his memory." I was trying to blame Xavier instead of admitting I was scared to see John. And, as usual, Remy knew it.

"How can you jeopardize his memory any more? I bet he'll be happy to meet you."

"I'm sure he can do without me."

"Are you sure you can do without him?" I wanted to retaliate, but found myself pondering on his words. I was pretty depressed since John lost his memory, but I've done and gotten my friends back and myself together after John. I don't know if I want to return to being used…

"Soon," I promised Remy. Soon, meaning next year soon.

January 8

This morning, John escaped from the med lab.

I know this because when I tried to go over to the mansion, I found the defense shields were up and the windows were barred with steel.

Knocking on the door anyway, I was reproached by Professor Xavier, whose voice was carried via loud speaker.

"This is a lock down, Ms. Maximoff. I repeat, a lock down." I glanced around, half expecting to see a laser gun ready to shoot at me at any given time. "It would be in your best interest to leave at this moment."

"Has something gone wrong? Is all of humanity in danger from this moment on?" Father had not planned any world domination for awhile now, so I doubted it had anything to do with him. There was a pause before Xavier spoke.

"Well, John did escape the med lab this morning."

"Is he dangerous?" I wanted to know. Another pause.

"I think he took some money from the drawers. I told McCoy to lock that drawer…"

"Is there anything I can do?" I tried looking through the window, only to see my reflection staring back at me.

"Not at the moment, no." I heard a click, indicating the speaker was turned off.

And though I wanted more information and was burning with frustration, I decided to go home and think about what to do, and if I should do anything at all.

January 9

Got an e-mail from Rogue:

Hey Wanda. Heard Xavier turned you away (for shame). I thought you might want an explanation and here it is. John probably escaped the med lab around one in the morning. He disarmed a few cameras and took some cash from Mr. McCoy's drawer. A knife is missing from the kitchen, the gun from under Remy's bed is gone. We all fear he's prepared to kill and he's been contemplating this for awhile now. Xavier does not know where he is; he hasn't used his powers in the last three days. We've assembled a small search party, but I find it useless. My first instinct would be to ask you to come along, but only if you're willing.

Anyway, he's out there, and he's armed and mad and therefore dangerous. Perhaps we can stop him before he does anything drastic, if you know what I mean.

January 10

Just so we're all on the same page, I didn't join their stupid crew to find that fool. What do I care if he guns himself down? What's it to me?

Nothing. End of story.

January 11

Well, it wasn't exactly the end of the story after all.

I went to the Concorde as I always do when I am depressed. Only, this time, I had company when I arrived at the top.

The place was littered with whiskey bottles, some stacked, some half full. All of them were open, and the stench was nauseating. When I searched the area, I noticed a body on the ground, curled up in a fetal position.

It was John, of course. Not only had he managed to drink about fifty bottles, but he looked as good as dead when I got a chance to see him. I had no idea how he got up here but I think it's because he also saw how high it was and therefore knew there would be no thought of life after he jumped from the top.

"Hey." I nudged his shoulder, and as if out of habit, he turned away. I nudged him again, with more force this time. "Hey." He groaned, and I patted his unshaven face.

"Can't you just let me die!" He suddenly cried out, so loud and suddenly that I fell back onto my arse. I quickly came up to my knees, fighting the urge to smack him right then and there. I thought about why he would want to kill himself and realized it may have been caused by Rogue breaking up with him. Again, love is a terrible thing in this case…

"I can't and won't," I told him, sternly. "You get up because I can't carry you down forty-two flights of stairs." He tried to reach for the whiskey bottle next to him, but I knocked it away from him. This enflamed him further, for he spit out a string of curses so vile I didn't want to believe this was John lying down before me.

"Who do yah think yah are anyway? Yah think coming up here will change the fact that I want tah die?" He was sitting up now, which was improvement. I decided to keep him talking so that I may try to save him.

"Now, why you do you want to die?" He turned away.

"Yah always this snoopy?"

"Only to maniacs that want to kill themselves by drinking to their deaths." He snorted as I carefully examined his face: dirty with sweat and tears. I instantly wondered where the knife and gun were at the moment.

"That takes too long." He suddenly said, and I realized he was watching me now. Wide awake and sober, I could tell he was fighting a headache by the way he squinted his eyes at me. "Who are yah anyway?"

I was startled by this: I had forgotten he no longer knew me. I got to my feet and changed the subject: "You really that keen on dying, huh?" I felt those eyes on me, watching my every move. They were untrusting and that was what hurt the most.

"For some, this world will never be right."

"I knew what that meant once." We sat in silence as the wind ruffled his orange hair and numbed my cheeks.

He apparently regarded me harmless, for he began to converse with me. "So, is this your place?" he abruptly asked me. I pulled loose strands of hair behind my ears and looked away before answering.

"In a way, yes. So, when I saw you up here, I figured you were invading."

"Yah didn't think I was contemplatin' suicide?"

"That's a dark subject." I brought up my eyes to meet his and we locked glares.

"Why didn't yah just let me alone?"

"I think you'd rather want company. It's lonely, death and all."

"Yes. But not as lonely as life." He meant it, I could tell.

So I introduced myself. "I'm Wanda, by the way." I held my hand out to him. His eyes never left mine.

"St. John Allerdyce." We shook, and I knew he was disarming his defenses when he shook my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," I said, meaning it. I even smiled. He took this a bit hard for he looked away without returning the gesture. "Did I do something wrong?"

He answered, "If it means anything to yah, I just took a bottle of valium and vodka and it wasn't a really good idea if I had known I'd meet someone like you…" He then turned away before he vomited and passed out on the ground.

It wasn't exactly how I would have wanted to start things over between us, but I guess it was all I could afford. I called Lance to come quick and bring Fred to haul John back to the Institute. God knows we couldn't care for him at the Brotherhood House with that valium he said he took inside of him. I've been outside the med lab, and they've been pumping his stomach since he got there.

And I know, deep down, that I'm never gonna get him out of my life again, whether I like it or not.


Thank you for all my faithful reviewers and those who urged me to continue. It did save this story :)