Running, running, and running some more. Thirteen-year-old Peter wanted to do nothing else except run across the countryside. However, being forced into the car by his mother was absolute torture. They were going on a short "vacation" to visit one of her friends five hundred miles away. It was a five hour car trip. Peter hated it. He'd begged his mom to let him get them all there in a second, but she refused after what'd happened the last time he'd moved a bunch of people at super speed. She didn't want to suffer whiplash.

So they'd all piled into the car. After listening to all his music in about thirty seconds, Peter stared out of the window in boredom. What was there to do? Listen to his annoying sisters? Bug his mother? They still had several hours of car trip left, and besides that, he was incredibly hungry. He'd stated the fact several times for the past hour, but his mother had ignored him and said that they would stop for lunch in a few hours. A few hours?! But he was hungry! A speedster was like a bird; he needed to eat every hour on the hour or else he'd starve. His mother didn't seem to get that.

"Please, mom!" Peter begged again. "I'm hungry! I need to eat!"

"We'll eat in a little bit," she said.

"But I'm starving! I want to eat now! Come on, mom! Just a burger or some fries or a pizza! Please!"

"Just wait a little longer, Peter," she said, now sounding tired.

"Please, mom! Please, I need to eat! I'm going to die!"

"You'll be fine, Peter. Calm down."

Peter felt horrible. Cold sweats ran up his body and the back of his throat was warm as though he were about to be sick. Couldn't she see that he was dying? That he was starving? "Mom, please," he groaned.

His mother sighed. "Thirty minutes, Peter, all right?"

Peter knew he couldn't wait that long; he was already starting to see dark spots in front of his vision. Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Peter had unbuckled and unrolled his window. "I'll be back in a little bit."

"Peter!" Mrs. Maximoff screamed. She nearly slammed on the brakes, but since they were on the freeway that wasn't an option. "Get back in the car!"

"Just give me a second," Peter said, crouching in his seat as he readied his spring from the vehicle. "I'll be back once I get some food."

"You get back in the car this instant or else you're grounded for the next year!" she shouted.

"Don't worry, Mom," Peter said, bracing his hands against the windowsill. "I'll be fine."

"Peter!" she yelled. "You—"

"Later." Peter leapt out of the car, feeling the wind whip at his clothing as he exited the vehicle. However, he hadn't thought to think of the physics behind his motive. Despite the fact that he was a mutant, his body wasn't used to being pulled at seventy miles an hour in one direction as he attempted to right his body and hit the ground running. He sped up in attempt to defy physics, but this only caused him to fall faster, even as the rest of the world slowed down. A scream tore from his throat as he slammed into the pavement, feeling something in his arm snap as he skidded several hundred feet, feeling a burning and immense pain in his back as he slid. Finally, after what seemed like a year in his accelerated state, his body came to a stop. Before he could even take stock of his situation, Peter inwardly beat himself up. His shirt was ruined! And it was his favorite Led Zeppelin shirt, too!

Blinking three times to bring himself back to reality, Peter knew that something was wrong with his body. His left arm couldn't move properly, and his back could hardly support him as he sat up. Peter, however, didn't have time to dwell on either of these things. Instantly, the pain within him caused time to speed up, and Peter barely had time to glance up in terror before he saw a van barreling toward him. The vehicle was going to hit him. That Peter knew.

Throwing up his hands, Peter screamed, then saw time stop again. Never more thankful for his speedy capabilities, Peter slowly got to his feet and surveyed the situation. The first people he rescued from the imminent accident were his mother and two younger sisters. Remembering the whiplash incident, Peter cradled their bodies and set them down gently before turning back and quickly evacuating the rest of the individuals from their cars. After everyone was rescued, Peter flopped down on the side of the highway, clutching his arm. However, when a now-unmanned vehicle sped off the highway right toward his mother and sisters, Peter was forced into action yet again, pulling them out of harm's way long before the vehicle even came close to hurting them. Finally, the vehicles all crashed into each other, and the rest of the people slammed on the brakes.

Everyone was alive. No one had died or gotten injured. And he still hadn't gotten anything to eat. Time returned to normal, and Peter sat down next to his mother and sisters as they recovered from the near-accident.

"Mom, what's wrong with Peter?" Wanda cried.

Magda, blinking once, looked first at Wanda and Polaris to make sure they were all right, then turned to Peter. When she saw Peter, she almost passed out. "Peter!" she screamed. "Oh my, what happened to you?!"

Peter shrugged, aware that his left arm that was sticking out at an odd angle. There was a

searing pain in his back and an even worse pain in his stomach. Man was he hungry! "I hit the pavement at eighty miles an hour. I guess I . . . Mom, I'm hungry! Can't we eat something now?"

"No. We need to get you to a hospital. Almost all the skin is gone from your back." Magda looked up, searching for anyone who could help the four of them. "We need help, here!" she shouted.

Try as Peter might to force his body back into super speed state, the pain in his back and arm and the hunger in his stomach was too great and he couldn't do it. Great, now he was forced to rely on a bunch of snails. What if he starved before then? "But, Mom! I'm starving! Please! Please!"

"All right!" Magda yelled. She looked around, then noticed a potato chip truck about one hundred feet back from their current location. Pulling out her wallet, Magda took out all the money she had and ran toward the truck, flagging down the driver who had now gotten out of the vehicle to survey the horrible accident in front of him.

Peter, excited by the prospect of food, was helped to his feet by his two younger sisters and together the three of them followed Magda.

" . . . two hundred dollars. Could I buy some chips off your truck, please? My son's starving and injured. He needs food."

"Ma'am, I don't think"

"Please."

Peter almost laughed. It was probably the same technique that she had used on Erik all those years ago. But the technique paid off, and soon Peter was surrounded by about one hundred bags of potato chips. Grinning over at his mom, Peter devoured the entire stash in half a second, then sat down in satisfaction.

"Better?" Magda asked.

Peter nodded. He wasn't full exactly, but this would do for the next hour or so. Now that the pain in his stomach was gone, the full weight of Peter's back and arm injury hit him, bringing him down. Peter blinked several times to stay conscious, then sat up slowly, wondering where the hospital was and if they'd be able to get there in time.

"Peter, you're going to be fine," Magda said.

"Peter's not going to die, is he, Mom?" Wanda asked.

Peter laughed, but it was a pained laugh. "Don't worry, sis," he groaned. "Big brother's not going any—" Another wave of pain crashed over Peter, and he closed his eyes tightly.

"Peter, stay with me!" Magda shouted.

"Don't die, Peter!" Wanda cried.

Peter opened his eyes a bit, surprised to see that Wanda's hands seemed to be glowing with a strange red aura. When this aura touched him, he felt rejuvenated, as though he'd been injected with a shot of pure energy. Yuck. He hated shots. Not Peter, or Wanda, or Magda knew what had happened just then, but Peter was certainly thankful for it. He felt so much better now. Sitting up with a clear head and no longer about to pass out from the pain, Peter carefully stood and looked around. "Where's the nearest hospital?" Peter asked.

"Fifty miles away," Magda said. "Maybe if I flag down one of the drivers we can—"

"No need," Peter said, grinning a bit. Wow, he felt better. Thanks, Wanda. "I can get us there in the blink of an eye."

"Peter," Magda said, "I don't—"

Time froze. Looking at his mom, Peter considered how he would transport her to the hospital without injuring her. Well, if whiplash was caused by the neck jerking rapidly in one direction, it stood to reason that he might be able to prevent it by supporting someone's neck. Peter left his mom's side for a moment and practiced this technique with several other random people before feeling satisfied and returning to his mom. It was now or never. Placing a hand behind her neck, Peter sped forward all the way to the doors of the hospital. He returned and did this again with Wanda and Polaris alike, then allowed time to slow down. He watched them stagger as time returned to normal, surprised by their reactions.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Peter asked.

Magda swallowed once, then her body gave a shudder. "Told you, I didn't want to—" Magda's body gave a dry heave, then she sat down on the ground and blinked several times before climbing to her feet. "I'm not a mutant like you are, Peter," she said hollowly, still recovering. "Going at several hundred miles an hour suddenly is something I'm not used to."

Peter blinked. He hadn't thought of that before. Maybe that's why all the kids he'd evacuated from that house had all started—

"Mom, I don't feel so good," Wanda groaned.

"None of us do, honey," Magda said.

Peter watched them carefully. "You guys . . . don't have whiplash, do you?"

"Just indigestion," Magda muttered.

Peter grinned. His plan had worked!

"Now let's get you to the hospital," Magda said once she had recovered. The four of them entered the hospital, and the staff nearly had a heart attack when they saw Peter's back.

Magda herself inspected Peter's back along with the staff, and she frowned when she looked at his injury. "I must be seeing things. Last time I checked, your back looked a lot worse than this."

"Really?" Peter said, trying and failing to see the injury. "What's it look like? Is there gonna be any scaring?"

Magda shrugged as the workers raced away in panic to alert the staff to the critical situation that had just entered through their doors. "Still bad, but not as bad as before. It seems to be already one quarter healed."

Peter blinked, then one of the staff forced him to lie down on a gurney that was brought out for him as they traveled toward the emergency room at a run. To Peter, however, this was like crawling forward. "Why is it healed already?"

"Your metabolism is faster than a normal person's," Magda said, running after them and pulling Wanda and Magda with her. "When you went into your speedster state, it probably accelerated your healing abilities."

Peter glanced at Wanda, wondering if she had anything to do with it as well, but he said nothing. His mother had freaked out enough by the knowledge of one mutant; she didn't need to know of a possible other.

"He needs a blood transfusion stat," one of the nurses said, hooking Peter up to an IV.

"The largest part of his wound stretches twelve inches," another nurse said. "He's going to need to be placed on heavy antibiotics to keep away infection."

Peter frowned when he saw the nurses swarming around him, caring more about his back than his broken arm as they transferred him to a hospital bed. "Could you just set my arm?" he asked.

"After that, we need to do a scan for internal injuries and maybe draw some blood."

Peter rolled his eyes. If they just set his arm, his metabolism could heal his back for him! Didn't they know that? "Could you please set my arm?" he asked. Why was no one listening to him? He turned to his mom, sticking his lip out in a pout. "Are they really going to care about my back before my arm?"

"It seems so, Peter," Magda said, standing several feet and watching Peter intently.

Peter sighed, feeling his stomach growl again. "I'm hungry." Then, at least wanting something to do while the nurses and doctors swarmed around him, Peter pulled his IV out, left the hospital, and raced to a nearby pizza shop, taking seven pizzas and returning to the hospital with only one as he lay back down on the bed. The nurses and doctors blinked. His mother gave him a stern look, but didn't say anything.

"Did you give him that?" one nurse asked.

"I . . . don't know."

"No food allowed, please," one doctor said, reaching out for Peter's precious food. Peter instantly dodged the doctor, now standing by the door next to his mom and shoving another pizza slice into his mouth.

"Look, I know you guys are the experts here, but I know my own body," Peter said, talking around his full mouth. "Look at my back: is it any different?"

One of the doctors blinked after measuring the largest stretch of injury. "Four, wait. I thought you said it was twelve inches," he said, turning to the nurse.

"I . . . did."

"Now, if you all could just set my arm," Peter said, rushing to the other side of the room and startling the nurse who stood there, "I can be on my merry way. All right?"

"H-how are you doing that?" a nurse asked.

Peter shrugged. "You figure it out." Then he raced back to sit down on the hospital bed and presented his broken arm. "If I could do it myself, I would. But since I'm not a doctor, I'll just rely on you all. Now, could you please set my arm?"

"My brother's fast!" Polaris spoke proudly, and the entire hospital staff looked at her before returning to Peter.

Peter grinned at her and nodded, then looked back at the nurses and doctors expectantly.

"I-I think that can be arranged," the doctor said, approaching Peter with an almost scared expression.

The doctor took Peter's arm in his hands. "It's a complete fracture, all right. I'm surprised that it's not compound. We'll need to get it x-rayed first, then we can set it and you'll be on your, um, merry way."

Finally able to get things done, Peter followed the doctor's orders without hesitation, but it still took them two whole hours until Peter's arm was set in a cast and he was checked out of the hospital.

"Now, Peter," Magda said once they were home courtesy of Peter's speedster capabilities since they would need a new car after the accident it'd been in, "since your arm's broken, I want you resting. No more jumping out of cars or rushing into burning buildings."

Peter nodded. "All right, Mom." In a flurry of movement, Peter changed into his pajamas which consisted of a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt and pants with electric guitars all over them. Once that was through, he raced over to the fridge and got the rest fried chicken that was left over from the night previously. Then Peter laid down on the couch with an entire liter of soda and a box of Twinkies from his bedroom downstairs. He turned on the television and watched the news for a moment before he heard his mother laughing.

"If that's what you call resting, Peter," Magda said, "I wonder what would happen if you gave it your all."

Peter grinned at his mom without showing his teeth. "I'll take it easy, Mom. Don't worry."

"If you say so," Magda said, ushering Wanda and Polaris into the kitchen to eat their dinner before joining him in the living room.

Once they joined him, Peter turned off the television and rolled onto his stomach, looking at his mom. Wanda and Polaris climbed on top of him and sat on him, but he didn't mind in the slightest. "Tell me another story about Dad, Mom."

Magda sighed. "Peter, you've heard them all. I just told you one yesterday!"

"But this is today," Peter said. "Wanda, Polaris, don't you want to hear a story, too?" Peter grinned a bit as Polaris and Wanda began to bounce on top of him, but due to his age and mutant powers, he hardly felt a thing.

"Mommy, I wanna hear a story about Daddy!" Polaris complained.

"Yeah, Mom!" Wanda said, her eyes shining. "Please?"

Peter turned back to his mom with a slight smirk. There was no way she could turn him down now.

Magda sighed and put her hands up in front of her. "All right! Listen." She leaned forward, and Peter, to the best of his abilities, scooted forward as well. "I'll never forget the first time Lehn asked me out and took me to the top of a skyscraper. Granted, I already knew he had the power to control metal, but that didn't mean I didn't cling to him as we slowly rose higher and higher into the air. I felt like I was flying, but of course Lehn didn't let me fall. He seemed to have complete mastery over metal, and I still couldn't believe it when our date was interrupted by half a dozen police cars telling us to come down!" She laughed. "Imagine the police men's surprise when we actually did descent by nothing more than a metal grate beneath our feet!"