The boy with the silver hair stood gazing down at Erik with anger and a hint of fear in his eyes.
My son. I've caused that fear and anger. He doesn't even know who I am, and he already hates me.
Pietro begins shouting at an exceptionally fast rate, "What are you doing here!? What are you doing in my house!? Get out! Get out! Get out! If you hurt Aunt Marya I'll kill you! I—I swear I will! Why are you here? I don't want anything to do with you. You tried to kill people! You dropped a stadium on the White house for fuck sake! You—"
"Pietro calm down and watch your language young man!" Marya pipes up, cutting Pietro off mid-rant.
"Marya, what is he doing here? What's going on? I didn't mean—I didn't know he was going to be insane when I broke him out of the Pentagon! I just thought it'd be fun to break in and hang out with people like me. I've never met people like me before… besides Wanda, obviously "
Slowly rising up off the ground, Erik waits for Marya to explain, not having any idea what to say himself.
"Pietro, this is going to be difficult to hear, but I need you to listen to me. Erik is not going to hurt you or me. Okay?"
"Then what is he doing here?" Pietro asks. Training his eyes back on Erik he continues, "What are you doing here man?! If you think I'm going to join you in your plot for world domination or whatever dude, then you are even crazier than I thought."
"Honey, that's not why Erik is here..." Marya says, putting her hand on Pietro's shoulder and forcing him to turn around and face her, even though he refuses to let his eyes stray from Erik. "You remember I told you that your mother knew a man who could control metal?...That was Erik sweetheart."
"Yea so what? I kinda figured that out. I mean how many people can control metal? What's that got to do with anything? So mom met the maniac one time. Big deal. That doesn't give him the right to come here now." Pietro states.
"I didn't just meet her one time Pietro." Erik says, "We grew up together. We were friends…We…we knew each other very well."
"Um Ew. That's the kind of information you keep to yourself dude." Pietro says, while scrunching up his face in disgust.
Erik tries again running one hand across his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose in frustration, "Just…listen to what I'm trying to say to you. I didn't mean it like that—well I guess I did, but it wasn't like—she was…" Erik let's out a sigh of dismay. This conversation was certainly one of the most difficult and awkward conversations in his life. "Magda was my wife, Pietro. I'm your father."
Pietro, who had been outwardly vibrating with energy this entire time, freezes at this final statement.
Oh God. I've broken him. Erik thinks just before Pietro starts talking again.
"No you're not. No. You. Are. Not! Marya? Marya, he's not? You're lying. Mom would never have married you! You're a terrorist!"
"Pietro, kiddo. It's all true. He's your father… I'm sorry I never told you. I didn't want to hurt you." Marya says.
"No you're lying. You're both lying! Why are you lying?!" Pietro starts shouting again. "You are not my father. I don't have a father. If I had a father, he would've been there when mom got sick….and—and when mom died. He would've been there when we were broke, so Marya didn't have to marry an asshole to support us. He would've been there when Wanda and I got our powers to tell us we weren't freaks, and we weren't alone. AND HE NEVER WOULD HAVE LET WANDA LEAVE!"
As soon as Pietro finishes that final statement, he grabs an unopened can of soda from somewhere faster than Erik's eyes could register and chucks it at Erik's chest, before speeding out of the family room. The only evidence of where he went is the swinging basement door. Although Erik could have easily stopped the metal can because Pietro threw it at a rate only slightly greater than a normal speed, he lets it hit him square in the chest, figuring he deserves at least the minimal amount of pain it causes him, though he does catch the can with his mind before it hits the ground, preventing the carbonated liquid inside from splattering everywhere.
Marya brushes away some tears that had formed in her eyes during Pietro's speech before saying, "Well that went about as well as could be expected."
"He hates me." Erik says. "He'll never forgive me for not being here." I'll never forgive me for not being here.
"You didn't even know he and Wanda existed until a few days ago Erik. I'm not saying that justifies your leaving or what you've done since and maybe it would have been better if you had never found out about Wanda and Pietro, but the fact that you're here now shows you care. Just give him a couple of minutes. Who knows how long that amount of time will feel to him. Maybe he will have calmed down a bit. Go talk to him. Try to let him know that you care about him and Wanda. That's all he's ever wanted in a father." She sighs sadly and continues, "I have to go pick up Mila from school, and I'm already late. Pietro usually swings by and gets her, but in light of recent events, I told him to be more careful as to where and when he uses his powers. I'll be back as soon as I can. Now go get to know your son." Marya says as she grabs her car keys and purse and heads out the front door.
A few minutes later…
Erik starts to head down the basement stairs. What am I supposed to say to him? What could possibly make him want to give me a chance to know him?
As he descends down the stairs his eyes dart around, taking in the sight of what appears to be the typical decorum of a teenager's sanctuary multiplied by about ten. Looks like having powers hasn't been a complete burden to him, but who the hell needs that much junk food or televisions? Erik thinks as he stares at the rows and rows of sugary treats, soda, and other random paraphernalia.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs he looks around and spots Pietro lying sprawled out on his stomach on an old oddly patterned brown and yellow sofa with his face turned watching him.
When their eyes make contact, Pietro quickly says "Go away." before turning his head rapidly into face the back of the sofa.
Before he turns away, Erik sees that Pietro's eyes are red, and it's obvious he has been crying.
He's known who I am for less than ten minutes and all I've done is cause him pain. Maybe I should've just left him ignorant of our relationship, and let myself pretend to be ignorant of my status as a father. Erik thinks as he grabs a small stool from in front of what is most likely a stolen arcade game and sits down in front of the sofa.
"Pietro, you have every right to be angry at me, but please just let me try to explain."
"Don't call me that. Only my family gets to call me Pietro, and that's not you, so just don't. And I told you to go away." Pietro says glancing back out at Erik with forceful determination despite the puffiness in his eyes.
"Du erinnerst mich an deine Mutter. Sie wäre jetzt genauso wütend auf mich."1 Erik says softly in German.
"Tue ich das? 2 Pietro responds.
"You speak German?" Erik asks in surprise.
Sitting up slowly, or at least at a fairly normal pace, Pietro replies, "Yea mom and Marya would always speak to us in German at home. She taught us French and Spanish too. She even taught us Japanese because I guess she picked it up in…in the camp. There were Japanese soldiers there too, and I guess…well I guess you knew that already, since you were there…?"
"I was." Erik replies not wanting to discus that terrible period of his life, but knowing his son deserves an explanation for his absence and to know more about his mother, he continues, "both of our families were imprisoned in Auschwitz. My father had died a few years before, and my mother was killed the first day in the camp, so Magda's family became my own. Maybe one day when you're older I can tell you more, but right now all you need to know is that we escaped in a revolt in 1944, and Magda, Marya, and I were the only surviving members of our families."
Erik pauses, looking at Pietro, he can tell the boy is eager to hear more information about his mother's past, which is likely the only reason he hasn't run away from him again, but Erik allows himself to hope that maybe he wants to know a bit about him too. During Erik's brief story, Pietro had shifted so that he was sitting cross legged on the sofa, though he seemed to have carefully positioned himself as far away from Erik as the couch will allow, yet his eyes remain on Erik waiting for him to continue.
He's so young. Erik thinks. How much do I tell him? What is acceptable for a fifteen year old to hear? Although it really wasn't all that long ago, it feels like a lifetime since Erik was fifteen, and he just doesn't know how much about the harsh reality of life to reveal to this boy for whom all he wants to do is protect from the cruelty and injustice he has faced in his own life.
Finally, Erik continues, "Marya met your uncle Django in the camp too, and they'd even had a fairly official wedding ceremony with the help of another prisoner who happened to be a rabbi. Magda and I eloped less than a month after regaining our freedom as well. We were very young, much too young, but having had our childhood ripped away from us, we felt aged beyond our years. Then, nine months later your sister, Anya, was born."
Seeming to momentarily forget that he was upset with Erik, Pietro starts firing out questions, "What happened to Anya? Marya, barely ever talks about her, and she never talks about how she died. She just says that there was an accident, and it was a terrible tragedy. But what happened? If it really was an accident she would say what happened."
Erik is about to respond, but apparently Pietro thinks he's taking too long to answer because he starts speaking again.
"Are you not going to tell me either? I deserve to know. I'm not a kid anymore, so you and Marya can't use that as an excuse! She may have been your daughter, but she was my sister too. And I didn't even get meet her, so I at least deserve to know how she died."
"You're right. You do deserve to know." Erik replies evenly but keeps the following thought to himself. Though you are most definitely wrong when you say you are not a kid.
"What you have to understand is that even before people knew about mutants there was great deal of prejudice in this world, but we went and made a life for ourselves far away from the horrors of the Nazi regime. But as I said, I was still young and didn't have a great deal of control over my powers yet. One afternoon your mother, Anya, and I were out for a walk in the city, and a car came speeding around the corner. There weren't too many cars back then, so people were not always the best drivers. We were crossing the street and it took us by surprise. It would have slammed right into all of us, but I lashed out instinctively with my powers flinging the vehicle into the air and away from us. There were quite a few people around when this happened, not too mention the battered driver, and many people started yelling at us, calling me a freak and a monster. We got out of there as fast as we could, and I thought that would be the end of it. I didn't think anyone really got a good look at who we were, but I guess I was wrong…
The next day Django and I came home in the evening after a construction job we were on ran late, and we found our home set ablaze with a large mob of people outside shouting that I was a dark sorcerer, and I had to be stopped. Magda was there too, being held back by Marya and a few of our neighbors, while screaming that Anya was still inside our home. I ran into the house and found Anya inside our bedroom closet with her arms clinging tightly to her favorite and only teddy bear. I quickly picked her up and got her out of there. I thought she was going to be okay. Her eyes were closed like she was just trying to shut out the noise and all of the hostility, but she didn't have any burns that I could see. It wasn't until I lay her down outside that I could tell she wasn't breathing. Smoke inhalation had killed her. I tried CPR, but I'm no doctor and even if I were, there was no bringing her back…
That's when I lost it. I could feel every piece of metal in the area, and I called it to me, knives, pipes, silverware, anything, and I…well I don't think you need to hear the details…but when I was done no one from that abominable mob was left standing, and Anya was still dead. Through her tears Magda tried to say something to me, but I cut her off before she could. All I could see was the grief and fear in her eyes, and I knew I had caused both. It was my fault Anya was dead. It was my power that had brought about that mob, and I knew it could happen again, so I left."
Throughout this exchange, Erik had been mostly talking to his feet, but when he finished he looked up and found tears had sprung up in Pietro's eyes again, and if possible, he looked even paler. I shouldn't have told him. Erik thinks before Pietro says, "Wh-Why are people so cruel? Why do they hate us? It's not fair…" He trails off putting his face in his hands for a moment, before dropping them and starting again, "but you left! Mom had just lost her daughter too, and you left her! And she was pregnant and you just left her all on her own. Couldn't you see she needed you! I get why you thought you had to leave, but that's just—you're just—ugh why is my life so fucked up!?" Pietro finishes putting his face back in his hands.
Erik longed to reach out to Pietro, embrace him and tell him everything would be alright, but he knew they were no where near that point in their relationship, and the harsh truth was that everything was not alright. Nevertheless, he considered raising a hand and placing it on Pietro's shoulder, but he didn't think he could bear watching his son flinch away from him, so he instead he remained still and spoke, "Again I know saying sorry can't change the past, but I truly am sorry Pietro. I didn't know she was pregnant again when I left. If I had…I don't know, maybe I would have made a different decision… I wish…I wish I would have been here to see you grow up, you and Wanda, but if I had been, something could have happened to you too, just like it did with Anya." Erik didn't know what else to say, and really, he had absolutely no idea what he should do next either. What am I supposed to do now? I can't stay here. Eventually someone will find out where I am, and that could put Pietro in danger, and my daughter is out there somewhere too…
Interrupting his train of thought, Pietro starts speaking again, "Did you know when I broke you out of prison that I was your son? You must have. I mean, how else would you have known to come here. But you didn't say anything! You barely said two words to me at all. You just went off ToTerrorizePeopleAndStuff!" Pietro finishes this accusation in a hurry, his word running together.
"I didn't know for sure that you were my son then Pietro. The, uh, comment you made in the elevator made me suspect, but I didn't know for sure. And you have to understand that Charles and the others had you break me out for a reason. I couldn't just take off, not when I was in their debt." .
"So is that really why you're here? Because I broke you out, so you are trying to get out of your debt with me too?" Pietro asks.
"Of course not Pietro! I wish I could repay you in some way, but not because I want to be out of your debt, because you're my son and…and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you now that I know you exist."
Pietro looks rather stunned by this statement, but recovers after a moment and says, "So…like what are you gonna do now then man? Are you just gonna leave again and show up in another 15 years?"
"I haven't…that's not what I want Pietro, I just—I don't know what to do honestly." Erik says.
"Look, I'm glad we had this heart to heart or whatever." Pietro says waving his hand about erratically, "but it's still Peter to you old man." Then, suddenly Pietro jumps up so that he is standing on the couch with a grin on his face. "You know what we should do!? Do you!? Do you know?! We have to go find Wanda! You can find her right! You've got like scary connections and stuff probably, right? Right?"
For a moment Erik feels like agreeing immediately to go on a quest with his son to find his daughter. Look how excited he is at the prospect of finding his sister. I wonder what he was like as a little boy. Erik thinks as he watches Pietro bouncing about on the sofa waiting for Erik to answer. "I don't know that that would be a good idea Pietr—Peter. I promise I will look for Wanda, but you need to stay here. You have school and a life here, much more so I'm sure than you'd ever have with me on the road."
"School will be out for summer in a week! Then I'll be free for three months, and I can always run back here if I get desperate. Pleeeease, I thought you wanted to get to know me…" Pietro trails off and sinks back onto the couch.
"Of course I do, but being anywhere near me is likely to be dangerous, and I really shouldn't take the risk of having anyone find out you're my son…" Erik stops talking at the look of dejection on Pietro's face. "I suppose your mutation would make it easy to escape danger though, and if you really will be out of school in a week...your aunt has to approve of it first though, and you would have to do exactly as I say, no matter what! That means if I tell you to run to Timbuktu, you do it. No questions asked, and at the end of the summer you are going back to school. Do you understand?"
"Yea, yea, fine. Come on! I just went and checked and Marya is home with Mila now! Let's go ask her. Come on, come on, let's go!" Pietro says before speeding up the basement stairs and out of sight, leaving Erik alone feeling a little anxious, yet surprisingly somewhat excited realizing he was going to have to learn how to be a father again.
1You remind me of your mother. She'd be just as angry with me right now.
2I do?