Within the last month, it felt to Peter as though he'd lived ten lifetimes already. After getting to the Institute and rescuing nearly all the students from an explosion, a grand adventure had ensued which ended in a showdown between everyone versus Apocalypse. And at the end of it all, Peter still hadn't found the courage within him to tell his father the truth. What was wrong with him? It'd seemed so easy to recite the three simple words from home, but up close and personal was another story.
He'd faced Erik. Seen him, had the chance, then . . . turned away and listened to "Train Kept a Rollin' " instead. He didn't really know his father at all. Not that Erik was really that evil, but how awkward would it be for a random teenage boy to walk up to Erik and declare that he was his son? Wow, great first impression.
Until he had more of Erik's confidence and trust, he'd have to keep a bit of distance. Not that it was physically difficult, though. Erik had disappeared immediately following Apocalypse's defeat. If Peter wanted to find Erik, he'd either have to take up his one-man search again, ask Charles for help, or wait for Erik to return, which was highly unlikely in any circumstance. In truth, Peter would rather wait for Erik to return, since showing up on Erik's doorstep, or lairstep, would raise questions that Peter might be forced to answer, thus revealing his own connections to Erik before either he or Erik was prepared to hear such news.
However, the mental difficulty of keeping such a secret, when Erik had been around, was practically torture. Peter was no mind reader, but he wondered if Charles had been laughing the entire time Peter had attempted to talk to his father to subtly hint at what he assumed was so obvious. Maybe if he could somehow convince Erik of the fact without outrightly telling him, or even make Erik think that he was the only one who knew and Peter himself had no idea, the news would be less . . . shocking.
Which begged the question: did Erik already know? Did he already know that Peter was his son? This also seemed unlikely. Either that, or Erik really did know and just hadn't acted on it yet, similar to Peter himself. Peter didn't think of this a likely possibility, but then again, he still didn't know his father. The man had disappeared before Peter had got the chance. Maybe he knew; maybe he didn't. Inwardly shrugging, Peter assumed that Erik, as of yet, didn't know the truth. With this cornerstone placed in his mind, Peter wondered how Erik would react when he finally told him. That day would soon come. Peter knew it, though he didn't yet know when. How would he react when he finally knew, though? Would he —
"Hey, Speedster! Speed it up!"
So caught up in his thoughts was Peter that he blinked and barely evaded a Sentinel's attack. He sped up, froze time, and raced to the other side of the room to keep the Sentinel's attention.
"Can't hit me," Peter said, dodging another attack and rushing close to the Sentinel before backing off. "No one can. Nope! Missed! Try again!"
The last Sentinel finally fell as Ororo hit him with a lightning bolt. Peter returned to the center of the room as everyone gathered and congratulated one another.
"What was up with that, Pete?" Scott asked. "For a second, it looked like you were running as fast as a guy with a broken leg!"
Peter shrugged. "At least I was focused on the battle and not spending the entire time staring at Red over there," he whispered, jerking his head over in Jean's direction.
Scott blushed fiercely, then stuttered for a few moments before Peter laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. Scott's body jolted as Peter's hand landed on him, and with a slight glare Scott walked toward Kurt.
". . . feels like a kettle ball," Scott muttered as he walked away, rubbing his shoulder.
"Nice karate moves, Blue," Peter said, turning to Raven.
Raven glanced his way and nodded, then addressed the rest of them. "Good work, everyone. We're all getting better and working as a team."
"Team of misfits," Peter snorted, picking off a hangnail.
Raven glanced in Peter's direction but didn't say anything. "We'll rest up for today and meet back here tomorrow night to train some more."
Everyone nodded and began to leave the danger room as the doors opened to freedom. Peter stretched, already feeling hungry. "Great job fixing up those robots, Furry!" Peter called out in Hank's direction. Hank nodded and powered down the simulation, walking over to fix the Sentinels they'd destroyed for the next training lesson tomorrow.
Placing his goggles on his head, Peter moved into super speed and dodged around all his teammates, exiting the danger room and already able to taste lunch on his lips. As he exited the room, he glanced over and noticed that Charles was talking to someone he hadn't seen around before. Interest piqued inside Peter. Who was it? They hadn't had a visitor or a new arrival since Peter and a few others joined the team last month. Well, no matter, first he would eat. He would be properly introduced soon enough and — Peter paused and instantly did a double take. Wait a second . . . was that his father?!
Only once before had Peter tripped while in speedster state, and now he was doing it again. That had been when he was thirteen and only going half his current speed. It'd almost put him into a coma them; Peter worried that it would kill him now. Thankfully, right before moment of impact, Peter felt his body stop instantly, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Charles with a hand on his temple, stretching out a hand while Jean did the same. Now on his feet, Peter brushed off his jacket and pretended as though nothing had happened. No! He hadn't tripped! He hadn't! Well, at least he hadn't hit the ground at some fifty million miles an hour. Thankfully.
Peter glanced again to where Charles sat, his breath catching as he realized that it was, indeed, his father. It was! It was Erik! But why was he here? Hadn't he left a month ago? Why was he back?
". . . just couldn't stay away, could you?" Charles asked, withdrawing his hand from his temple after seeing that Peter was no longer in danger.
"You make it seem like I actually want to be here," Erik said.
"No mind control here," Charles said, tapping his temple. "Apparently you came back because you wanted to."
"I came back for a much different reason than you might think, Charles," Erik said. "More necessity than anything else."
"And what exactly was that reason?"
Erik opened his mouth to speak, then glanced around at some six teenagers who stood just inside the danger room and listened in on their conversation, all waiting for Erik to say something. He shook his head.
Seeing an opening, Peter was there in a blink. "Hey, Baldy," Peter said, and Charles frowned a bit at his nickname.
Erik, however, glanced at Charles then began grinning. "Baldy?" he mouthed to Charles.
"Don't ask," Charles said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Peter moved a little closer to Erik, then began to address the both of them. "So, Baldy, what's he doing back? Why are you back? Huh? Did you forget something when you left? Did you just miss all your friends? Did you miss being here? Were you lonely? Is that it? How long are you going to stay? Are you leaving right away, or are you staying for a while?"
Erik blinked a long blink. "Do you have an off switch?"
"Nope," Peter said, exiting in a flash and returning with three chocolate bars from the Institute's kitchen and devouring them in a second. "So why're you back? Why are you here? Come on, tell us! We'll keep it a secret."
"Because I just couldn't stay away," Erik said flatly. Then Erik turned to Charles. "Would you mind a trip to China? Or Antarctica?"
"Trust me, Erik. I've tried," Charles said. "There's no getting away from this kid."
"It was worth a try." Erik turned back to Peter. "So, do you give everyone nicknames?"
"Yup. I'm Peter, alias Quicksilver. That's Red, Shades, Blue, Furry, Static, Circus, and Baldy."
"I like the nickname Baldy," Erik said, glancing at Charles. "I think I'll start using it myself."
"Very funny, Screw," Charles said.
"Touché."
"So what would you call Erik, Peter?" Charles asked.
"D—" Peter, thankful that his super speed allowed his mind to think faster than his mouth,
clicked his teeth shut and said no more. Wow, that had been close. He looked at Charles and Erik, who were both waiting for his response. Peter shrugged. "I'm starving; I'm gonna go get something to eat. See you, Baldy. Later, Magnet." As Peter rushed away, the continuation of Charles' and Erik's conversation met his ears.
"At least it's better than Baldy," Erik said.
"Shut up."
Peter, in the kitchen now, made himself some popcorn before returning to just outside the danger room and watched as Erik and Charles walked away to continue their now-private conversation.
"So, that guy's really your father?" Scott whispered.
Peter, pausing with a handful of popcorn in his fist, turned and glared at Scott. "Who told you that? The only one I told was Blue."
Scott blinked at Peter's harsh stare. "I didn't—"
"I just told Hank and Ororo," Raven said.
"I told Scott," Hank said, shrugging. "My bad."
Jean nodded, and Peter, glancing at the rest of the team, realized that his secret was out. Great, now everyone knew.
Kurt, however, gasped. "Peter! Vat man is your—"
Peter was there in an instant, placing a hand over Nightcrawler's mouth. "Shut up, Circus," he muttered. "Do you want him to know?"
Nightcrawler teleported several feet away and nodded once, then Peter released him. "You mean you haf not told him?"
"Of course not," Peter said.
Kurt blinked in astonishment. "Vhy?"
Peter shrugged. He needed to gain some of trust first. Then hopefully the truth wouldn't be as shocking as it seemed. "I will soon. But for now, I don't want anyone to tell him for me. Got it?"
"What would happen, Pete?" Scott asked. "If he really did know, it wouldn't be that big of a deal, would it?"
Peter rushed Scott, and within a blink he was only an inch away from Scott's face. Scott gasped and took a step backward. "I'm serious," he growled. "No one except for me is allowed to tell him. He's my dad. This is my business. Understand? Well? Understand?"
"Yeah," Scott said, pushing Peter away. "I got it."
Everyone else was nodding.
"We won't say a word," Raven said.
Peter nodded. "Good." Then, realizing that he couldn't hear Charles' and Erik's conversation any more, Peter took off down the hallway Charles and Erik had gone. He wanted to do a bit of snooping and find out the real reason why Erik had returned, and listening in on their conversation was the best way to achieve that goal. Why had his father come back, anyway? It had been so sudden and out of the blue. Why now? He hadn't considered it several weeks back after his wife and daughter had . . .
Peter blinked hard, breathed out once, then caught the sound of Erik's voice. He changed directions and approached the closed door of Charles' study, listening to the conversation.
" . . . trouble always seems to find you, Charles. I'm surprised you were able to rebuild the Institute so quickly."
"I could say the same about you. First you threatened the President, then you allied yourself with Apocalypse, now you come back here," Charles said. "I almost wonder if I should board my doors against you."
"That would be something. I see you haven't played chess since I left."
Peter heard Charles laugh.
"No one here even enjoys playing, Erik, much less is actually any good."
For a moment, there was silence, and Peter listened hard for any more conversation or footsteps nearing the door he was behind.
"So, Erik, why did you come back? Was it for Raven?"
Now it was Erik's turn to laugh. "If I'd wanted Mystique, I would've taken her with me when I left, not returned to the Institute to stay."
"So you are staying," Charles said, and Peter picked up on Charles' hardly-veiled excitement.
"Not permanently," Erik said. "This is a temporary arrangement."
"And why are you here?" Charles asked.
Peter heard Erik's footsteps going away from the door.
"I guess I just need time."
"Time for what?" Charles asked.
"Time to . . . figure out if my next move will be checkmate"—Peter heard the scrape of a chess piece being moved—"or something completely different."
"Take all the time you need, old friend," Charles said. "You're always welcome here."
"And yet our world views oppose each other," Erik said. "You want to befriend humans, while I want to show them who is superior."
"There is good within you, Erik. I've seen it."
"And there is evil within us all," Erik said.
Peter heard Erik's footsteps nearing the door, but he was gone long before Erik stepped out of the room. Peter watched his father from a distance while he mulled their conversation over. So Erik needed time. Time for what? Was it really to figure out his next move? Or was it to recover from his wife and daughter's deaths? That had been a month ago, but still. One didn't get over losing those close to them so quickly or easily.
And what was the "checkmate" Erik had been talking about? Was he planning something dangerous just as before when he'd been under Apocalypse, or was it a metaphor for something totally different? And why would he come back if he'd left last month, anyway? It just didn't make sense. Curious to find out both about his father and about the questions that raced through his mind, Peter zipped over to Erik as he walked down the hall, falling into step beside his father and scaring him half to death. He would have to be cautious about the questions he asked, though. If he started bombarding Erik with deep questions about his past, Peter would either blow his cover or turn his father off. He didn't want to do either of those things.
"Hey, Magnet," Peter said. He kept his eyes ahead, only glancing at his father every so often so that he didn't come across as strange. What he really wanted to do was stare straight at his father then look at himself in the mirror to find out if he'd gotten his nose or eyes from Erik. Anything, really. Well, besides his mutant powers.
"Would it kill you to move at normal speed?" Erik asked, clutching his chest.
"Probably."
"Well, it's going to kill me."
Peter laughed, then clapped Erik on the shoulder. "You're cool. I think we're going to be good friends."
"Oh, joy," Erik said, rubbing his shoulder.
"So you bend metal?"
"Yes."
"What's that like?" Peter asked.
"Fabulous."
As they talked, Peter fought to keep his excitement down. Here he was, actually talking to his father! And better still was that they weren't escaping from the Pentagon or another lethal situation. They could actually take their time in the conversation.
Peter, now hungry again, zipped away and returned with a gallon of chocolate ice cream and a spoon. He dug in and ate the entire container in less than ten seconds. "Cool. I'm a speedster."
"Really? I couldn't tell," Erik said, rolling his eyes a bit.
"Yup. I ran around the world once; went to Asia, Europe, and Africa. Saved a bunch of people in Saudi Arabia, too," Peter said, rushing to the kitchen again and obtaining a large bag of potato chips. He offered some to Erik, but Erik refused. "Did you ever travel out of the States?"
"Some."
"And where did you go?" Peter asked.
"Poland."
"Yeah? I've been there a few times. Really pretty. One of my favorite places I visited was Warsaw. Another was Pruszków." Peter glanced over at Erik as he mentioned the second town. Pruszków was the town that Erik had lived in for . . . well, possibly the last ten years. It was the place Peter had visited several weeks back and wished he hadn't.
Peter could see the slight change in Erik's expression as he took the bait. Instantly, Erik glanced over at Peter and frowned. "What were you doing there?"
Peter shrugged. "Looking for someone. I didn't find him, though."
Erik relaxed a bit. "When was this?"
"About a month or so ago. I can't really remember when," Peter lied. He glanced over at Erik. "Why do you ask?"
Erik looked forward again. "I worked there a bit."
Inwardly, Peter wished to fire a barrage of questions at Erik, but he knew how strange and awkward that might become or seem. Instead, he raced away for half a batch of cookies Jean had made yesterday, returning in a blink. "That's nice."
"Yes," Erik said, his teeth now gritted. "It was."
Peter saw that the suit of armor they were passing was starting to crumple, and he quickly changed the subject. "How old were you when your powers emerged?"
Suddenly, the suit of armor behind them flattened completely, and Peter could see the metal support beams of the Institute beginning to poke through the walls themselves and curl inward. Uh-oh. Bad topic.
