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, or Arkham Ayslum.
A/N: Wow, an update! More Jonda, which makes us all happy. I'm still experimenting with this story so bear with me:)
January 12
The shattering of glass woke me up with a start. Something was happening, but I couldn't really comprehend what exactly was wrong until I saw Xavier and Mr. McCoy standing outside John's room, peering in through the blinds. Drowsy and cranky, I got to my feet and made my way towards them.
"What's going on?" I asked, as something slammed against the wall inside. Xavier turned to me, a look that betrayed astonishment on his pale face.
"John's awake." Awake and livid, I thought, wanting to peer through as well.
"So…" I started, as the Professor went back to looking through the blinds, "can't you stop him with your mind control powers or something?"
"Nonsense," Xavier replied, and I realized Mr. McCoy was jotting down notes. "He's venting his anger, and that's a good thing."
"More like a caged animal, with all due respect," I replied, a little annoyed at their surveying the matter. I then kicked the door open since Mr. McCoy refused to unlock the door, and was grazed by some scissors. Made myself a mental note to remove everything sharp in that room as I continued to enter. John was in the corner, bloody with careless cuts from throwing things and having them bounce back at him without a second to spare; his I.V. was torn and hanging from his arm as the madman reached for more scissors (to throw no doubt).
"What a way to make a come back," I murmured to myself, hexing away the weapons and making him face me. He scowled something hideous.
"You." He walked towards me, but instead of the gnawing feeling of fright inside my chest telling me to run for my life, I stood my ground. "You brought me here. To Hell with yah, Traitor!"
He raised his hand to strike me, but I beat him to it. His head flung back in surprise and his body hit the gurney before he collapsed on the ground with muffled groans. The place was a mess: John had done a swell job making the med lab into a pitiful heap of broken glass and torn paper.
"I'll come back when you're civilized," I told him, and left the room. Xavier and McCoy gawked at me like the two stupid idiots they were but I told them to knock it off.
January 13
Came home and announced that I've seen, talked to, and hit John and if anyone needs me, I'll be in the library researching Jane Eyre. Term Paper, you know the drill.
January 14
Institute called. John is willing to cooperate, or as he put it, has become "civilized."
January 15
When I got there, he was waiting for me on the gurney, his plainclothes replacing the stiff hospital gown he wore two days before. I was about to comment on his calmness when he beat me to it.
"You're calm." I was a bit annoyed I hadn't got the first word, so I decided to fight for the last.
"Tired of breaking things, I see." He watched me close the door, drop my coat and bag on a nearby chair, and take a seat in the corner of the room.
When we were sitting in awkward silence for a few minutes, John suddenly spoke up with curious uptightness.
"Wanda." The name was sweet on his lips and I could feel a blush creep on my face. Silence fell between us and I would have rather had a large AWKWARD sign hanging next to us if it hadn't already been so obvious.
"Yah hit hard," he stated, but without malice.
"Too hard," I said, and couldn't help smirking. "Knocked you up well enough to have you ask for me."
He chuckled. "I guess I deserved it. Remy told me I cost about $12,000 in damages and the asylum is calling for my head on a platter."
"And you called for me why?" So I was curious.
"Because I knew you'd come." This surprised me: was I that easy to see through?
"Make your point soon—and fast," I said, the exasperation small but certain in my voice. He actually smirked.
"I just want yah tah help me is all." He jumped down from the gurney and actually approached me. I raised an eyebrow.
"You think it's that easy, don't you."
"Why not?" John looked at me with some surprise written on his face. "Remy said you'd help me."
So Remy was behind this! "When did you become so chum with Mr. LeBeau?" I asked, anger rising to my head.
Almost immediately, John started to laugh. "Remy said yah wouldn't like it too."
I sat back, fuming. Looks like I'm not getting the last word after all. "So what do you want me to do?"
"So does that mean you'll do it?" He was standing in front of me, but I refused to look up at him, embarrassed as I was. So he stooped down to meet my eye level. He dropped his voice to a low whisper and I had to turn my head to hear: "I apologize for disrupting the place last time yah saw me. But when I was lying on that thing they call a mattress the night after yah slapped me downright heartlessly, I decided if I wanted to get down to anything, I needed to cooperate. And I want yah to help me."
"But why me?"
"Yah kept me alive for a reason. Yah brought me here…" he cringed as he said this, "…but it said something. It meant something. Yah knew me before. Let me know yah now." I was stunned by his speech. By now, dear diary, I was staring deep into those eyes bluest of blue and it reminded me of when I asked him to be my pretend boyfriend and how much I wanted him to love me…somehow, this was different. I had asked for him to know me and I got it, but I'm not happy.
"Fine." I put my head down, as if defeated. But I was actually relieved. Let him know me. Let me start over.
I needed this second chance, dear diary. So I took it. Shoot me.
We agreed to meet tomorrow at eight.
January 16
Did not show. It was the stupidest excuse, but only because I wouldn't believe it if I heard it myself. Fred ate this whole chicken and he ate too fast and therefore some bones got caught in his throat and the ambulance came and there was even a story on the local news station…
Whatever. I'm hoping John saw that story (embarrassing as it was) just so I won't sound like a totalidiot trying to explain my absence.
January 17
When I did come in at eight the next day, John approached me a bit hastily and abruptly right after I closed the door behind me.
"Explain yurself." He was holding that knife of his a few inches from my chest. I was almost insulted. REMINDER: Must figure out where he keeps getting that weapon!
"I don't need to do anything for you," I returned, taking a step back.
He looked a little surprised: I pointed this out and he smirked.
"Aren't yah supposed to be a little more sympathizing, Miss Maximoff? After all, yah are one of them and they are the ones who want to pity and pulverize me at the same time."
"Nonsense," I said, impatiently. "You're speaking nonsense. If I didn't know any better, I would smack you so hard you'd land in the Pacific…and I'dmake you stay there."
He narrowed his eyes. And burst out laughing. This whole thing was a joke to him. He put down the knife. "Don't think I'm letting yah live, Wanda. My arm was getting tired." He actually winked at me. I set my teeth and could do nothing but stare back. He was surprisingly calm and casual as I stood stiff and fuming.
"So tell me, Miss Maximoff," he said, throwing theknife on the floor and taking a seat on the gurney, "why didn't yah show?"
"Fred…"
"Don't bring Tiny into this. Yah said you'd be here, and yah weren't…" I wondered silently about how he knew Fred, but decided not to pursue it. Besides, I was in hot water which I had no idea how to get out of.
"Fred…"
"But then again, I'm used to being disappointed." This irritated me.
"Don't make yourself the victim: we're all victims somehow, so don't feel so special."
John did not answer but his eyes were smiling. "Fine. We'll change that subject." He paused, but his gaze never faltered. "So, tell me why there's so much fuss to keep me alive."
"You flatter yourself, Allerdyce," I spat, "we don't need you; you are worth no more dead than alive. Your life insurance could prove that, I'm sure."
He watched me with shining blue eyes and changed the subject. "Yah know these mutants, Wanda? How come I never see yah around here?"
"I don't live here, at least understand that." I relaxed a little. But I remained uncomfortable as he studied me. "Yes, I'm a mutant, if that's what you want to know. I live in the Brotherhood House a few blocks away."
"And are yah chums with the X-Men?"
"Complete opposites. We only talk when there's commotion dealing with kicking mutants off the planet. Or when it comes to nuisances, like you. That is all, I assure you."
"You, I understand, are the friendliest of dem all." He was joking of course, and I smirked along with my response.
"And you are certainly the stupidest if you believe them at all. Stupidest and most ignorant. I should warn the town about you: St. John Allerdyce, Mad and Stupid Mutant. Boy, would they avoid you." He laughed at this. He was full of laughs today.
"What a quick tongue! I bet yur father and yah get along so well."
"Leave him out of this. My father has nothing to do with me or you especially concerning your lost memory."
"So yah know about it, then? I am officially deemed infamous, am I not?"
"I would be surprised if any mutant did not know of your tragedies."
"I am surprised that yah seem not to recollect that it was actually yur Brotherhood…shall we say, people…who were responsible for it?"
I knew he was looking to accuse me, and I equally wanted to slash him down and stain my hands with his blood.
"I do not deny this."
"So what should I do with yah? Yur mutant friends will not come to save yah, I'm sure."
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much."
He observed me with a hard glance. "Yur courage is daunting and a bit impressive. Still, it will not spare yur life."
"Spare my life? St. John, you talk too much and get nothing done; you are a man of much words and little action. I want to detest you on the spot."
"Perhaps. Is it in yur best interest tah argue otherwise?"
"I don't detest you, John." I was quiet for a moment, thinking of what else to say. St. John swung his legs from his seat on the gurney. He was waiting for me to continue. "I want to hate you, but cannot."
"Now, we're getting somewhere!" He jumped down and reached for his shoes.
"Where you going?" I demanded. He was in such a rush; he did not answer me at first.
"We are going out."
"Why?" I asked, a little confused but more curious. He laughed.
"Because Remy told me today we should go out and I will learn more about yah."
"Remy?" I felt myself turn bright red at the familiar name. "Why should you care of Remy's opinion? What if I don't want to help you?"
"Help? Who said anything about help today?" He reached for my arm, but I moved away from his grasp.
"I don't want to do anything with you." This was a lie, and I knew he knew it was a lie.
"Wanda, I wanted to see yah again so I may learn more about me and maybe yah."
It was my turn to laugh. "We spend ten minutes bickering at each other and you suddenly need to go out…with me? This is outrageous!"
"Actually, you've been doing all the bickering, Wanda. Come on, we'll miss the eleven o' clock show."
"I'm not going out with you. I mean, you tried to kill yourself. What makes you think I want to deal with that again?"
He saw that I was serious and he…shrugged. "Fine. I'll go without yah." He opened the door, but I hexed it shut.
"You aren't going anywhere. You're…dangerous."
"What makes yah say that?" He had to ask.
"Well, you were threatening me with a knife a few minutes ago and now you want to go out. In public. That's just not normal, I'm sorry."
He looked at me, studied me, smiled at me. It made me uncomfortable which in turn made me angry.
"Wanda, I will never be normal. To public, to mutant, to anyone, really." He leaned back against the wall. "Well, yah can leave now, Miss Maximoff. I've kept yah long enough."
I leaned forward, a little surprised at myself for wanting to stay a little longer. "I'm sorry if I've offended you…"
"Don't waste yur breath. I know yah aren't sorry. If yah stabbed me through the chest you wouldn't be sorry either. You'd just walk away."
"Don't be rash," I chided, a little upset at his tangent, "I'd never do that."
"To me even?" He looked down at me with a daunting glance.
"Especially never to you." I was sincere and he knew it. So before the awkward silence could set in, I decided to jet. I did not look back and did not answer Rogue whom I passed by when she asked me how'd it go. Somehow, nothing needs a response anymore.
January 18
I decided not to go see John today. Don't ask why. I'm not so sure myself.
January 19
Urgent phone call from the Institute. Apparently, Mr. McCoy wanted to let me know that Arkham asked about John and wants him back. He does not object, and would like to see Gotham. I wonder if it's out of curiosity or no sense of purpose left in him. Now, everything's up in the air, anyway.
January 20
I had just finished typing up the bibliography of my research paper, when Pietro sped into my room, declaring he had lost his lucky pair of socks and then accused me of taking them because I knew he had a test today and wanted him to fail because he couldn't take his test without his socks…
I had stopped listening for awhile after that. And then, for some reason, he ceased talking. When I finally realized this, I glanced up at my evil twin and found him staring out the window.
"Well, isn't that just wacky." What a weird way to put it. I asked him what was just so "wacky" outside.
"You'd never believe me, so see for yourself." I cursed him for making me leave my seat, and peered out the window.
He was right: I'd never believe it if he told me. There stood John Allerdyce with Remy LeBeau outside the front lawn. Apparently, LeBeau took the madman to this place to see me, no doubt.
"I'm not home," I said, automatically. I was not in the mood for visitors, not to mention ashamed of how I looked (four in the morning, writing my term paper all night, you get the picture).
"Wanda, it's four o' clock in the morning. Where else would you be?"
"I don't know! Make something up; you're good at lying."
"Lying to Father, to be exact. But should I say you're on a late night escapade playing bandit?" Crap. I forgot Pietro was evil for a moment, and now it would cost me.
"I don't care: just tell them I'm not here."
"All right: I'll tell them you work as a…"
I hexed him out of my room before he could finish. The doorbell rang, and I crept near the stair railing to try and listen.
Pietro was the only one up, besides me, since it was early. He opened the door with one swing of his arm.
"Remy! John! Well, isn't this a surprise?" He twisted his face and I saw him wink in my direction. Damn.
"Sorry to bother you, Maximoff. John and I were driving around the neighborhood and I suggested that we should see this house since we were…"
"Of course, of course. Come in, come in. Everyone's asleep right now, but then again, nobody's awake at four in the morning…" He took them into the kitchen and I could not hear anymore of the conversation, so I went back into my room, locked the door, and feel asleep on my bed.
And the worst part about this whole thing is that Pietro won't tell me what he told them! He did bargain with me: I would clean his room, shine hisrunning shoes, and buy his a dog if he told me everything. And of course, I declined. My sanity is worth more than Pietro's nonsense, that's for sure.
January 21
I did not dodge the situation further: Curiosity got the better of me. I was getting ready to go to the Institute with my tattered scarlet coat and knee high boots, when there rang the doorbell.
"Wanda," Lance called, lazily from the couch which was beyond battered, "get it."
"You get it," I called back, annoyed that he actually wanted me to do something.
"I'm not the one going out." I tore away from the mirror which I was using to check my appearance and proceeded to the door, too tired to retort anymore.
And when I swung open the door, I caught sight of orange hair and let the door slam shut (not that I intended that to happen: Creed hasn't gotten around to fixing that stupid hinge). But give me some credit for opening the door immediately following that episode. He was still there and he was…smiling.
"G'day Sheila. Pietro said you'd be home at this hour." I remembered their meeting last night and nodded.
"I figured that much." I left the threshold; he followed me inside. "I'm sorry I wasn't awake when you came by."
"Awake?" John seemed a little surprised. "John said you were hitting several 7-Elevens last night." He smirked when he saw me flush. "It's a good thing I didn't believe him."
"I agree. Even I wouldn't believe it if I ended uprobbing 7-Elevens…" I offered him a drink but he refused.
"Ever since that night with all the liquor…I don't remember it much, but I know I drank one too many."
"I didn't mean it that way," I said, a little embarrassed, "I thought you might want some water…"
"I see; yes, I'll take some thank you." When I came back with the glass, he took it with many heartfelt thanks and downed it in three seconds. I suppressed a smile.
We took a seat near the window and stared past each other for a few good moments.
"You're cruel, yah know." His voice was clear and bright, all sarcasm absent.
"And what evidence do you have to support your comment?" I asked, startled and confused at the same time.
"Don't give me that. You never intended to come see me again, isn't that right?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Then I probably should throw away what your brother said?"
"All in good time, of course." I studied him and he did the same to me. "But what did my twin say anyway?"
"Well, he mentioned the 7-Eleven, you never wanting to see me again, and that you used to like me…" He paused, his eyes examining my face. "It's useless. I can't read your mind. Would you care to elaborate on the last detail?"
"No."
"Come now: what do you think I'll do?"
"You'll laugh."
"I'll laugh because you liked me?"
"Yes."
He laughed and then explained he wasn't laughing at that. "I wasn't sure what to do when you didn't come back the next day. Or the next." He picked up a glass figurine that was left over from childhood from the corner table.
"I admit I wasn't going to see you for awhile." I watched as he set the decoration down and met my gaze. "But I was gonna see you today." He did not respond; he changed the subject.
"So what is this place anyway? Have I been here before?" He looked at the cracked ceilings, the torn curtains, the dirty carpet. For once, I wanted to be standing somewhere else to call my home.
"This is…where I live." He walked a few steps and suddenly collapsed on the couch.
"Feels…nice." I was pleased with his satisfaction.
"I didn't know you'd be here, or else…"
"Or else what?" He opened one eye to look at me. "I don't think you have any intention of cleaning." I fumed at this.
"I don't care for cleaning."
"I know you don't."
"I think you're insulting."
"Well," he said, sitting up and looking at me with twinkling blue eyes, "I think you're the most fascinating girl I've ever met." I flushed when he said this. John stood up and turned to meet Fred, who had returned from the kitchen with his pint of Ben and Jerry's. When John turned down his offer for ice cream, Fred explained he had been here before with need of some help.
"It's okay now, cuz you're alive." John laughed.
"I realize that now, thanks." After a slight pause
"You want to wrestle?" Fred asked, and John paled at this.
"Maybe another time, Freddie," he replied by Fred insisted.
"It's all right. I've only lost once, but that was because I had twisted my ankle and my arm…" I decided to interject before John actually gives in.
"John and I have to go out. We have a movie to catch." I stood up hastily and before John could object, I had us outside.
"Thanks Wandy. I thought I wasn't going to get out of that one." He breathed a sigh of relief and we stood there in awkward silence. No turning back to escape that awkward silence setting in. "Are we going to see that show now?"
"Oh John…" I wanted to explain it was just a story to bail him out of wrestling. But when I recognized that twinkle in his eye, I knew I wasn't going to get out of this one. We watched Thank You for Smoking and bought ice cream right after.
We wasted no time; we talked about my hexing powers and his fascination with fire and then he went back to the old subject.
"Did you like me?" I was silent but knew he needed an answer and I wanted to reply.
"Terribly, I admit." I glanced at him sideways; his face did not change.
"And did I like you?"
"Not as much, no."
"But I did like you?"
"Can't say: you were still in love with Rogue." He turned abruptly towards me.
"Rogue? Even then?"
"Even then."
"And you…?" I was blunt and indignant.
"Don't think I cared if you loved her or not."
He was silent for a time. "Incredible."
I finished my cone and threw away the wrapper in a nearby waste basket. "I mean, it was a silly time, and I just want you to know there are no hard feelings. From any of us." Us. Meaning Rogue too. John suddenly stopped walking. I turned to him, furrowing my brow, afraid I had upset him. Those eyes of bluest blue never left mine.
"I don't understand why I did not fall for someone like you then."
I was flattered, but reduced it to mere politeness. "Things are different today, John. We've changed, lost our memories, and changed some more. Don't feel so bad: I don't hate you."
"But it makes sense, the fact that you keep running away from me…"
"I don't run away from you," I countered, defending myself. "I avoid awkwardness."
"So you admit seeing me is awkward."
"Well, it isn't exactly a walk in the park, John."
He stopped talking for awhile. We continued our walk back to the Brotherhood House until we were outside the gate. Then he turned to me and smiled.
"And what about now? Do you like me now?"
"Bold question, John." I couldn't help but smile. "I don't think any less of you now."
"But do you like me now?"
I opened the gate and passed through. "It's none of your business." I let the gate close between us and waved good-bye to him from the other side. If he wants to know, he'll come back.
I won't lie: I'm scared of this whole thing. It has potential to form into something, something that I've been trying to achieve this whole time. But what if this turns out just like it did before with Rogue and the mind erasing and all?
I wish I had the answers and then again I don't want them.
Thanks again to the support of my reviewers. I owe this much at least for all your responses!
Up Next: The Tables are Turned!
Will John pursue Wanda?
Will Wanda accept him as is?
Or is it more complicated than that?
...stay tuned...
