Scott sighed deeply, waiting for the bathroom's occupant to stop spewing his guts out. He didn't like the idea of Pietro being in their house, but even he couldn't kick the guy out when he was in this condition. He waited patiently by the door. Finally, there was a flush and Pietro came out, green in the face and shaky. Scott asked gently, "You okay now?"

Pietro tried to glare at him, but felt too drained and sick and only managed a weak and shaky, "No."

The taller mutant came and stood beside Pietro as the speed demon bent over, hands on his knees, breathing shakily. His curiosity burned and he finally asked, "So… what happened? Jean won't tell me."

"Just as well." Pietro muttered and swallowed hard, wincing afterwards. Then, softly, Pietro muttered, "I'm gonna kill that blue bastard."

Scott frowned at the word, saying sternly, "Hey. No talking like that."

The other mutant turned to glare at him, saying loudly and angrily, "Your blue furball tried to kill me, Summers!"

Scott was a bit taken aback. Then he laughed softly, nervously, saying, "Kill? Come on, Pietro, I know we fight, but kill? None of us would actually go that far."

The younger mutant was about to respond when he suddenly grimaced and put his hand to his neck, coughing harshly. Scott winced in sympathy. After all the time Pietro had been in the bathroom, it was no wonder the guy felt so raw. Pietro then said softly, "Fuzzy almost did."

Scott was quiet for a bit, his curiosity eating him up from inside and then he could take it no longer. As Pietro sat down in a chair, sighing deeply, Scott sat next to him, asking, "How?" The speed demon started to say something, but then he got a familiar look on his face.

Pietro felt his stomach clench and bolted back into the bathroom, the wind of his speed closing the door for him. He kneeled in front of the toilet and vomited, taking a second to moan before puking again. As strange as it sounded, Pietro had never been sick like this before. His metabolism and immune system always fixed any internal problems at super speed, killing bacteria and stuff before they had a chance to hurt him. He had always walked past the nurses' office during the times when 'the bug' was infecting the school, both proud and thankful of his mutation.

But this… This was different. This feeling was in his head, running around faster than he could, driving him to the edge of insanity with its primal terror. He wanted to catch it, to get it out, but it avoided him and just sped around faster and faster, making him dangerously dizzy. He tried to hang on, tried to keep steady, but the world was spinning way too fast, even for him.

Pietro heaved again, expelling the remainder of the chocolate and apple he'd eaten less than an hour ago. Feeling like he was finally empty, he rested, moaning softy. He relaxed, sitting back on his legs, hot forehead resting on the cool, clean edge of the porcelain bowl. He gasped a few breaths, tasting the bitter bile, hoping he was done. God, this hurt! He decided he didn't like being sick. Not one bit.

He moaned as he carefully sat down, back to the wall. The linoleum floor felt cool and smooth under his legs and Pietro felt a little better. Just a little. He felt his stomach burn horribly, and reached a hand to try and massage the ache away. But just as his hand touched the front of his shirt, flashes of what Kurt had done to him zipped through his mind and all the sensations came flooding back.

The dark, the slimy wetness, the suffocating heat…

Pietro desperately scrambled back to the toilet, and discovered the wonderful new agony of repetitive dry heaves.

Scott winced as he heard the telltale gags and moans from the closed door. He shook his head and then walked back into the hospital wing. Jean was in the bed again, lying on her side, curled up tightly. Scott sat next to her and asked, "Jean. What's going on? I think Pietro's gonna really hurt himself if this goes on much longer."

Jean's body stiffened and she said softly, "Scott… I can't…"

He leaned over and began to gently rub her shoulder, asking, "Can't what?"

She sniffled and whispered, "I can't believe it."

The laser-eyed mutant fought to keep his exasperation under control and asked gently, "Can't believe what, Jean?"

The psychic rolled to look at him and whimpered out, "Kurt… he… killed someone."

Scott was quiet for a long time and then said softly and patiently, "Jean… I know that's bad… but accidents can happen and if you're in the wrong spot at the wrong time-"

Jean cut him off, saying sternly but with tears in her eyes, "No, Scott. It was no accident. From what I got from Pietro's memory, Kurt knew exactly what he was doing." She rolled back over, and Scott didn't bother trying to resume his rubbing.

Instead he asked, "But… how? I mean, Pietro hasn't got a mark on him. Did Kurt try to teleport him to death?"

"He a-ate me."

Scott looked up as Pietro walked into the room, one hand clutched to his waist, the other against the wall, helping him to walk. He was unsteady and still green in the face.

Scott's eyebrow raised and he asked in utter confusion, "Excuse me?"

The speed demon sat down delicately in a chair and said in a serious tone (or as serious he could be while still looking like he would pass out), "Summers, Fuzzy can shrink people, both human and mutant." His body bent over and Pietro hugged himself tighter, whimpering, "Oh God…" He calmed down and straightened a little, whispering, "He put me down to three inches tall. Three inches!" Pietro then shuddered, murmuring, "His tail-tip was bigger than me." The speed demon put his head in his hands and said, "The bastard shrunk me down to three inches high and put me in his mouth. Then he…" He shivered and huddled down even smaller, muttering, "God… it was so hot and dark… So tight… I couldn't move… Couldn't run…"

Scott's expression was difficult to see because of his visor, and so when he asked, "If what you're saying is true, how'd you get out?" It was hard to tell if he was serious or not.

The speed demon decided to hope that Scott believed him and muttered out, "I think he 'ported without me or something like that. Whatever he did, it hurt like hell."

The older mutant was silent for a long time, and then leaned close to the sick mutant. He then asked very, very gently, like to a child, "Pietro… did you have any large amount of sugar recently?"

Pietro's blue eyes glared at him as he burst out, "Aren't you listening to me!?" But he immediately regretted the action since it made him feel like he would disintegrate. He sat still, holding himself together while Scott looked at Jean, still curled up on the bed.

Scott then asked, "Jean?"

Jean didn't roll over, but murmured, "He's telling the truth, Scott." There was silence for a long time between the three of them.

Finally, Scott stood up, saying, "I'm sorry, but I just can't believe it." Then he walked out of the room, frowning and angry.

After a while, Pietro got up too, muttering to Jean's question, "I need to make a phone call." Pietro walked slowly to the front doors, and stepped outside. The fresh air helped to soothe his aching insides and he breathed a little easier. He pulled out a thin little cell phone and dialed a number he hadn't used in a lone time. He leaned against the wall, hearing the ringing.

Finally, the other end picked up, but no voice came. Pietro knew someone was there, however, because he could hear breathing. He then asked hesitantly, "Umm…. Magneto?" It felt so odd to call his father by his Mutant codename, but Magneto wouldn't respond to anything else.

The deep voice on the other end sounded surprised. "Quicksilver? This is unexpected. Why are you bothering me?"

Pietro found himself using his free hand to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit he found himself doing more and more often. He stuttered a bit and then managed out, "W-Well, um… Listen. Can we talk?"

Magneto's voice was a tad scornful and impatient, saying off-handedly, "Talk about what, Quicksilver? I'm a busy man."

Pietro then blurted out, "Nightcrawler tried to kill me."

The silence on the other end was so complete, Pietro was afraid Magneto had hung up on him. But then the metal mutant asked softly, "What?"

Pietro then explained the whole thing, pointing out every sensation he could remember, trying to hammer the point across of what Kurt had done to him and how terrifying it had been. When he was done, he felt like vomiting again, but held it in, the action made easier by the fact he was already empty anyway.

After a long time, Magneto asked, "This is very interesting. Are you certain?"

Pietro nodded by habit, saying into the phone, "Yeah. Jean kinda dragged it out and now it won't go aw-"

There was a soft click and Pietro sighed in frustration. Magneto hadn't even bothered to try and comfort him at all. Not even an 'Are you okay?' Pietro then sighed and shut the phone. Why had he even bothered calling?

But a quiet part of him answered softly, 'Because, like it or not, Pietro, he's your father. You want to find comfort in him, though you hate to admit it. You respect him and want his approval, though it's sooner that hell will freeze over.'

The speed demon sighed deeply and walked back into the house, feeling tired, sick and very alone.