Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within.

Author's Notes: Yes, late again. But as one of my reviewers delightfully pointed out, chapters are like gifts to the readers! And nothing is greater than the joy of giving.

I knew some of you wouldn't like the Lance/Wanda, but rest assured! It is not going to be a very huge part of this story, in fact being only a tiny facet in the face of this diamond. But if I was going crazy and there was a second voice talking in the back of my head, I'd certainly look around for some guy's arms to fall into. But all you non-romance types, fear not. It shall only make brief appearances. ^_^

If anyone has seen X2 yet, I would like to put in a shameless plug for my X2 stories, most of them in an angsty style very similar to that of this story.

That is all.

~

For the briefest of moments, everything was suspended.

Then all at once, almost everyone in the room made to jump up and rush him. Todd, Fred, Lance; all off them shifted themselves forward and most likely would have barreled into him had they not been interrupted.

"Sit down! All of you!"

Wanda's loudly barked order had all of them slamming their butts back to their seats as though they'd been yanked back by magnets. She herself crossed her arms and slumped in the big easy chair, scowling at the apparition of what seemed to be a perfectly normal Pietro standing in their doorway.

She couldn't be fooled.

"I believe you have something to say to us."

Her voice was like ice. They all saw him rock back on his heels, eyes rolling back as he scrambled desperately for something, anything, the words that would defuse the nuclear bomb that was their very own witch.

Ironically, the TV began the "Jeopardy!" theme music, and Todd slapped a hand over his mouth to keep in his laughter.

Finally, Pietro ventured a guess.

"I'm sorry?"

"Give the man a prize." Wanda said dryly.

The smile that split Pietro's face was so painfully genuine that the three boys completely forgot that they'd ever been mad at him, and they only wanted to invite him in to watch TV with them and pretend that nothing had been wrong at all.

But Wanda wasn't about to take it.

Rising from her seat like a queen, she walked swiftly out of the room and into the forbidden kitchen. While the boys expected Pietro to come join them, he did exactly the opposite.

"Wanda, wait!"

He went after her.

And none of them could find the courage to follow.

~

"Wanda?"

She was sitting at the kitchen table, her arms crossed and resting on its' smooth surface, her face buried in the little shelter they made.

He lingered in the doorway, uncertain as to how to approach her.

"Wanda… I'm really sorry…"

"Liar."

"Pessimist."

"Cocky bastard."

"PMS-ing bitch."

Finally, she lifted her weary head from the table, giving him a smile that he desperately tried to figure out was real or sarcastic.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" she drawled.

"Truce?"

"Truce."

She allowed her head to drop back onto her arms, which he took as his cue to move into the room, his hand brushing along between her shoulder blades. For a split-second, he thought he actually felt her heartbeat. But then it passed.

"Look…" he said slowly. "I wish I could tell you what happened today, but I can't. Even I'm not sure what's happening to me, and you know that's what drives me crazy. Not knowing. It's like…"

"…being blind."

She did it again. She read right into his heart without even knowing it.

Still with her head hiding in her arms, she felt an arm drape around her, felt his face nuzzling in the space where her neck met her shoulder, saw his other hand resting on the table next to hers.

"What would I ever do without you?"

He planted a kiss on her ear, and even through his t-shirt she could feel that his body was burning up like over-heated car. But even while she could feel him in the physical sense, it was suddenly as though a floodgate opened between them.

A rush of emotion surrounded her, and she suddenly became so dizzy she didn't know which end was up. Sorrow, confusion, pain, loneliness, all assaulted her with swift and perfect accuracy, striking through every angry defense she'd ever set up against a cruel world, stabbing right through her and into her soul.

He felt it too, felt that thrilling rush as a suddenly indescribable connection flashed between them, bringing with it all the emotions from the other link; anger, betrayal, hurt, despair, slipping right past every block he'd ever placed around himself, shining like a piercing beacon of light into his heart.

When the wave passed, Pietro was on his knees before her, his forehead resting on her knee, both of them breathing heavily and uncertain of exactly what was happening. He was the first to speak, his words hissing between clenched teeth.

"You're a part of me, Wanda. And I… I don't want to hurt you…."

"Pietro…"

She pulled away from, pulled herself physically away but also reeling in the line that had been cast to him across the mental divide, trying to shut off her end of the link. Spinning her chair back around, she drummed her fingers on the table and pretended not to hear him.

"Pietro." She said in her most business-like tone. "I don't what's happening, but I don't like it. I don't like being confused." I don't like having someone else reading me like a book.

Folding her arms about herself, she suddenly realized that she felt cold, colder every time she tried to push him away. Had he suddenly become such an important part of her?

But no… he'd always been there.

Thinking back to a dark and dismal past that still remains blurry and uncertain in her mind, she recalled that, even through all the unnamable despair, something had always kept her going. Someone had always kept her going, an irrepressible cheerful side, upbeat and eternally tenacious.

Only now has she realized that it must have been Pietro racing circles in the back of her mind.

His arms wrapped around her from behind, his voice the barest whisper next to her ear, full of more begging than she'd ever heard from him in their entire time together.

"Wanda…" he sounded choking, feeble. "Please don't push me away… I need someone right now, I don't even know what's happening to me… I need you to be strong for me when I can't…"

Tears burned at the back of her eyes. Pietro had always been so aloof and unreachable, placing himself beyond any of his friend and beyond even her. Now he was suddenly so vulnerable, so broken and helpless. It made her want to slap him and make him go back to being tough and cool.

Not like this. She couldn't stand seeing him like this.

Suddenly, his voice splintered into bitter laughter.

"What is it?" she asked automatically.

"Nothing, just… I always thought it was so sick and perverted when families would say that they loved each other. I was just like, 'Ew, yeah, right!' But now it's like, whoa…" He laughed again, but this time it was full of disbelief and awe. "It's like I've finally tapped into some mystical well of… love. And happiness. It's unreal. For the first time in my life, I can say it…."

"Say what, Pietro?"

"I love you, Wanda."

And in that instant, there was no one in the world but them, and in that breathless instant, she knew she loved him too.

"I don't mean that in a perverted or sick way," He continued softly. "But an affection, a devotion that can't be measured by any words except that: love."

His fingers entwined with hers on the table, and he placed another kiss on top of her head, his other hand massaging her shoulder absently.

"I wish I could have known you all these years. I wish I could have been there for you. But I need you to know something…"

Taking the end of her chair, he turned it around so that she was facing him, where he knelt before her once more, taking her hands in his.

"I'm here for you now, Wanda." His voice cracked on emotion. "And I'll always be here for you. When you fall, I'll catch you. When you're lonely, I'll always be with you. I'll do anything you ask… just, don't leave me to face the world alone. I'm scared…"

Cupping his face in her hands, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead, felt his skin burning, felt the sweat beading there even as they relaxed in an air-conditioned kitchen.


"I'm with you, Pietro."

She'd expected him to burst into tears, or have a breakdown, or something. But even in all the tension, in all the strain, he sprang to his feet and pumped his fist in a classic gesture of Quicksilver Victory. She laughed at him then, relieved that his old self wasn't quite gone yet.

"Grow up, little brother."

"Ah, ah, ah!" he scolded. "I believe you mean BIG brother."

"No way!" she cried defiantly. "You're too short!"

"I'm only a half-inch shorter than you!" he shrieked. Then, smirking, "You must be abnormally tall."

"Midget."

"Giant!"

"Giantess." She corrected smugly.

He glowered at her in mock fury, which she matched with equal gusto. Finally, he bowed gracefully and offered his hand for a shake of truce. She accepted it primly, and even as they shook, they both hissed simultaneously,

"Little brother."

"Little sister."

So perfectly was it whispered, as deftly pitched as though they had timed it and set their voices so that they matched, that they both started howling with laughter.

The chiming of the doorbell shunted them into a guilty silence, eyes darting around like mischievous schoolchildren caught breaking the rules.

Dinner was served.

He crooked his arm and offered it to her, and she rose and slipped her own through it.

They marched out of the kitchen arm in arm.

~