Chapter Five

Django

Django knew there was nothing to be concerned about with Pietro, but he had agreed to let Marya take him to the God-forsaken psychiatrist anyway. If you asked him, he would just say the boy had too much energy that he needed to work out. Maybe they could put him in sports or something. Granted that might feed the small boy's already monstrous ego even more. But he had agreed, and as such, he sat stuck with Marya and the twins in a cramped waiting room that was more reminiscent of a jail cell than a therapist's office.

"Pietro?" the psychiatrist, a woman in her mid-to-late-fifties asked from the doorway. The four Maximoffs rose and headed toward her. Wanda was being surprisingly calm, a fact for which Django was grateful. He would never tell Marya, but he thought they should be more concerned about her than her brother. She would frequently wake up in the middle of the night screaming, and had angry outbursts that concerned him. He was scared to death she would hurt someone one day.

The woman, Dr. Thompson, led them back to the room she used when she talked to the children. "Now you must be Wanda," she knelt down to the girl's level and smiled. Wanda nodded, but didn't speak. "Right then," she sighed, figuring it was normal. Most siblings didn't like when the other got all the attention. She closed the door and took a seat, motioning for the others to follow. "Now what seems to be the concern?"

Marya explained what the twins' teacher had told her about Pietro. "He's the same way at home," she added. "He can't sit still, and he's always talking." There was no hostility or resentment in her tone, though. She was merely stating the facts.

"I see," the woman smiled. She got a quick family history before requesting to talk to the boy alone.

"I don't like how long this is taking," Django declared.

"You have to give it time," Marya placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it takes awhile to be sure."

"Is something wrong with Pietro?" Wanda piped up. It was the first thing she'd said since they had been in the building.

"No Wanda," Django answered. "We just want to make sure, and Dr. Thompson is going to help us." It seemed to take ages before the doctor finally came out to talk to him and Marya.

"Wanda, why don't you go and play with your brother?" she suggested. Wanda huffed but did as she was told anyway. She didn't want to get into trouble.

"Well?" Marya asked before Django could speak. She knew he had a track record for opening his mouth before he thought about things.

"I don't see any reasons for alarm," the psychiatrist said. "It's normal behavior for a boy his age, and it isn't interfering with his everyday life. Get him involved in something to burn off the extra energy, and he'll be just fine."

Marya let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Thank you so much," she said.

"Just doing my job," Dr. Thompson replied. "If you'll excuse me, I need to make a call. We'll mail the bill."

Django watched her suspiciously. He couldn't help but think there was something off about the woman. He had never liked doctors, but the feeling was something completely different. She didn't act like a normal mental health professional; at least he didn't think so. She was too curt, too confident, and the questions she asked seemed more random than purposeful. "Pietro, Wanda, come on. We need to get you two back to school."

"Do we have to?" Pietro whined. He wanted to stay and play with his sister, not go back and learn things he thought he already knew. Plus he had to sit next to Evan, and he really didn't like Evan.

"Yes, now come on," Django answered. He ushered the twins out of the room and into the car. At least he and Marya would have a few hours to discuss what they had learned.

"I told you it was nothing," Django smirked. Marya rolled her eyes and shut the kitchen door. "What?"

"It's never anything with you," Marya shook her head. "I am worried about them, though."

"Why's that?"

"Think about it Django," Marya sighed. "They know we aren't their birth parents. We've been clear from the start that Magnus is their father, and he's never around. It's not healthy."

"And you worry too much," Django responded. He wrapped an arm around his wife. "They'll be fine. They've got three people looking out for them instead of two or one. Magnus will step in when Magnus is ready. Now just isn't the right time. And this isn't the right time to discuss this. It is the right time to discuss what sport we're going to sign Pietro up for, though." He didn't understand American sports, but he knew which ones seemed to be popular.

"Well tee ball would be over by now, wouldn't it?" Marya wondered. Like her husband, she didn't know much about sports or sports seasons other than what their neighbors, Django's coworkers, and the twins' friends' parents talked about. "Which would leave… flag football and basketball?"

"I think he's too small to play football," Django commented. Pietro was tall for his age, but he wasn't big. He had to admit he was jealous of the kid's metabolism. "So basketball then? We'll ask him later." A thought crossed his mind. "We'll have to get Wanda involved in something as well."

"What about ballet? I took ballet classes when I was younger," Marya suggested.

"I doubt she'd like it, but we can ask. Gymnastics, maybe? That may be a little closer to her interests. We'll worry about it when they come home," Django decided. The last thing he wanted to do was make decisions for the twins. He didn't want them growing up to resent him. Rather he wanted Wanda and Pietro to view him as being a role model, someone to look up to, someone they could trust.