Chapter 3
“Close the blinds…” he mumbled, turning his face fully into his pillow.
“Daddy, I'm bored.” his son whined, pulling on the bed sheets of his fathers bed.
The man sighed and turned his head slightly, just enough for him to open one eye. When he did, he saw his boy; with piercing blue eyes like his mother, tan skin just like his father - and pure white hair just like his older brother.
“Pietro, where's your sister?” he asked, hardly moving from his spot as the young boy hopped up onto the bed and sprawled over top of him.
“With mom.” he grumbled. That was enough of a response.
Erik sighed and turned to lay on his back. He scooped up his son in his arms and placed a quick kiss on his forehead.
“Aw, daaaaaad!” he whined, pushing on his face. “I’m too old for that!”
“For what? Love?” he joked, despite loosening his grip on Pietro.
Pietro, on the other hand, didn't answer and made no effort to stop laying on his father.
“I don't feel good.” he mumbled, but smiled a bit when Erik held onto him again.
“How so?” his father asked, despite knowing the answer. Pietro was only eight years old, but he already had an array of physical health issues; mostly new ones - like the issues with his stomach and how his legs randomly spaz out.
“My legs.” was all he said, grabbing on to Eriks shirt tighter. But, he quickly let go and sat up with a quick emotional change - he didn't much like talking about his health issues. “Will you come downstairs with me? Please!” he asked, giving his best puppy eyes, although they were unnecessary.
“Of course, go ahead. I’ll be right down.”
With that, Pietro hopped off the bed and walked out of the room. Erik let out another sigh, putting a hand over his eyes. It must be at least 11:00 by now, maybe noon. He sat up slowly, throwing the blankets off.
If only he could-
His head shot up at the suden sound - a scream. It was Pietro. He jumped out of bed and ran into the hallway where Pietro was laying on the floor and he kneeled next to him.
“What happened?” Madeline called from downstairs - the panic in her voice not as apparent as the annoyance.
“I need Pietro’s meds!” Erik shouted down, and heard the click of Madeline's heels as she went to find them.
“It's ok liebling, it’s ok.'' Erik said in a hushed voice, holding his son once again - his legs must’ve spasmed, but it was never this bad - and they seemed just fine now.
“I'm fine, I'm fine daddy, it's ok.” he said through a shaky voice.
“What happened, Pietro? I need details.” Erik said, unable to stop holding his breath - either his son was getting worse, or…
“I- I dunno I was just- I was here and then I was there and my legs just- I don't know.” he cried, putting his head into his hands.
“Where does it hurt?” Erik asked, still holding him close, but pulling away slightly to look over him for injuries. When Pietro didn't respond, he placed a hand on his face. “Hey, look at me. Where does it hurt.”
“It doesn't.”
“I- ok… that's good.” he took a deep breath and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place or broken, and Pietro wasn't in pain or injured.
“Ok… I need you to do what you just did one more time.”
“I- I don't know how I did it I don't-”
“It's ok pietro. I’ll be right here, just try to stand, ok?” he asked, and Pietro gave a slow nod. He shakily began to stand, but Erik stayed on the ground in case Pietro were to fall.
He stood up, and stabled himself. He felt fine. He took a step forward, just to see if he could stay stable while walking, but rather than a step, he couldn't help but run. In an instant, he was in his own room. It felt the same as last time - but this time, he didn't scream or trip - he just… blinked. Giggled.
“Pietro?'' Erik called from down the hall. He stood up almost as quickly as Pietro ran - at least, Erik assumed that he ran. All he saw was a silver streak leading into his son's room, and Pietro was gone, replaced by a giggle two rooms away.
“In here!!” He responded, tiptoeing as carefully as he could to sit on his bed. He was no longer afraid, just excited and very confused.
“Pietro?” Erik asked albeit redundantly, walking into his son's room.
“What's going on with me, daddy?” he asked without fear - only curiosity and excitement, shifting a bit on the bed before Erik walked over to sit next to him.
“Pietro, you’re aware of my abilities, no?”
“Being the best dad, like, ever?”
“No th-”
“I know, yeah you can like… Move things, right?”
“I can control magnetic fields.”
“Uhhhh…”
“Yes, I can move things without touching them. That's because I'm a mutant. Like a human, but more evolved. Mutants have special powers, and it's different for every individual.”
“Do you… do you think I'm a mutant?”
“It would only make sense. Your mother is a human so I was unsure but…”
“So I have super speed! Like Sonic!”
“Yes, just like Sonic, Pietro.”
“Awesome…” he exclaimed, kicking his feet. “Oh. Hi mommy.”
Madeline was standing in the doorway, holding Pietro’s pills and staring at the two.
“Hi baby. Erik, I need to talk to you. Now.”
Erik stood from the bed and patted his child’s head. “Go show off to your sister.” he said with a smile, and Pietro gave a quick nod before sprinting down stairs - he was already getting accustomed to it.
“What was that?” Madeline asked, setting the bottle down harshly and crossing her arms.
“What was what?” Erik sghed, leaning against the desk at the end of Pietro's bed. They hardly talked about mutations. Madeline said she didn't mind, but she was always weird around mutants. At least, unless it was him. He always seemed to be the exception. She wanted to keep human, christian, american company - unless it was him. And whenever he brought it up - she shut him down. He was being ridiculous about it, reading too much into it. Being sensitive. So, they didn't talk about it much.
“You really think Pietro is a mutant?”
“You saw what he just did - did you not just see that?” he asked, partially sarcastically.
“God Erik, of course I did but I just… what if he's dangerous?”
“It's super speed.”
“It still-”
“I am far more dangerous than he is, and you keep me around.”
“You’re far more stable.”
“Madeleine we’re not having this conversation I-”
“You're right. We aren't.” he said, scoffing before joining her kids downstairs
-
“Do you have to go to work today, daddy?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll see you in a few hours.” he said with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss on his daughter's forehead.
It's been two years since Pietro developed his mutation, and Wanda was still human as ever. That, of course, obviously didn't change how Erik felt about her. After all, his wife was human. But he wasn't too prideful to admit that this was hard. Everything he’d spent years fighting for felt useless, and now he felt like such a hypocrite - lucky enough to live a normal life while his brothers and sisters were on the streets. While the X-Men were out there doing something about it.
But, crazy as it was, this was worth it. His home, his children.
“Bye!” Pietro called from the other room before the door closed. When it did, he sped up next to his sister and she jumped - she still wasn't used to his powers.
“Ugh! Peter, can't you just walk?” she barked, sitting on the couch as she crossed her arms. Their mother called him Peter rather than Pietro, and Wanda had begun to pick up on it. After all, they were Americans, and Peter was a much more normal name.
But, Pietro liked his name the way it was, and so did his father. Pietro was named after his grandpa on his father’s side, and he couldn't be more proud, especially when Erik would show him pictures of his parents and tell stories - he just hoped he could be that cool one day.
“I couldddd walk… but that's lame.” he quipped, speeding to sit next to her, getting a disappointed grumble from her.
The day went on like any other, but Pietro started enjoying his days at home less and less. His mother would hardly let him outside;
“I just don't wanna lose you.” she said calmly, folding up her laundry. And she left the conversation there.
On Top of that, she wouldn't let him do anything. It was always “no, Peter”, “sit down, Peter”, “shut your mouth, Peter”. And every time his father would defend him - if he was even there - it led to a fight. So, Pietro learned to avoid his mother.
And when Wanda isn't with her, which she usually is nowadays, Pietro takes to hanging out with her. Well - hanging out, annoying, pestering, whatever.
But he needs her. Somehow she didn't see that. At least, not until she had to.
Not until they were laying on the floor, holding each other and crying with glass in their arms and plaster dusting their faces. Wanda came in and out of consciousness - one moment she was fighting with her brother, trying to take her doll back that he decided to steal for some hard headed reason - Then darkness. A flash. Rubble and glass falling upon them and the loud explosion sound wasn't nearly enough to drown out their mother’s screams.
She was knocked on her back when it first happened, and she had to wipe blood from her eyes a few times before she could see her brother clearly. He was unconscious.
“No…” she groaned, pulling herself towards him. It felt like a thousand years until she had him in her arms. It felt like a thousand years until he became conscious and started crying. And a million more before they were found. She tried to steady her breaths. She wiped her eyes again, then placed her hand back around Pietro. Looking over her brother's white hair, she saw the thing that destroyed her home. It was long and silver - just like the bombs they warn you about in school. There was one blinking light, and she watched it for what felt like years. Bright red, then darkness. Then bright red, then darkness. Aagin, and again until her eyes drifted to the left. There was one word.
Stark.
-
“Everyone ready?'' Charles asked, spinning around in his co-pilot's seat to face the rest of the team. Since Alex had returned they had just enough people to start the X-Men, and even more when Hank decided to join a week later. Though, it had been ten years since Alex had joined, and the X-Men had trained way more than needed for the threats they had faced. For such a powerful team, they seemed to only be taking on small missions and roles - but perhaps this was for the better. If the people didn't need heroes, why force them?
And now, Scott is 17 years old and eager to join his brother on the field. The actual X-Men line up was similar to Charles first class - Raven, Hank, Sean, Alex and Himself. And for this particular mission they brought along three trainees, one of those being Scott, and the other two being his close friends and most promising students, Jean and Adam.
Jean possesses incredible power - her telekinesis grows stronger everyday and she even has growing telepathy. Charles was certain one day that she would be the strongest mutant he had met - even stronger than him. Adam could heal any wound, but would receive that wound on himself. He could be incredibly useful - he just needed to learn how to find the proper balance so the person he's healing would survive, and so would he. Scott’s power was similar to Alex's, especially in the way that it's incredibly difficult to control. Luckly, Hank made him special glasses so he could see well enough to use his gift for defense.
All that was left for those three was on-the-field training, and on-the-field training was just what they would get.
“Ready as ever, Professor!” Scott said, practically bouncing in his seat. He was always so enthusiastic, especially when it came to his “X-Men duties”. He had spent most of his childhood in the school, and was therefore practically raised by the Professor. He looked up to him more than his own brother, he wanted nothing more than to make him proud.
“Calm down dude, it's not like we’re gonna do anything.” Adam mumbled, fidgeting with his seatbelt.
“Hey, you never know what we’ll do.'' Jean said calmly. “Is this the place?” she asked, looking out of the window. The area was completely destroyed, but it appears that it was once a small town.
“Jesus…'' Alex sighed, craning his neck to get a better look out the window. “Why are we here again? There's no way there were survivors.”
“Cerebro doesn’t lie.'' Charles said with confidence as the plane landed smoothly. “We just have to find them.” he added, closing his eyes to scan his surroundings. Luckily, he had done some training as well along with his fellow X-Men, and he no longer needed to put his hand to his head to use his powers - it was much more discreet this way.
“They're under the rubble.” he said after a moment and the group moved in - Jean ensuring that no rubble were to fall and hit anyone. “It's strange I can't… I can't reach them.” he said, putting a hand to his temple out of habit. He could sense two minds, most likely children, but other than that he got nothing. The last mental block he felt like this was when he was up against Shaw and Selene, and that wasn't necessarily a scenario he’d like to remember.
“What do you mean? I thought you said they were here?” Raven said, stopping in her tracks.
“They are. I can sense them but I can't reach them.” he said, shaking his head. It was worrisome, but the most important thing was finding these children and- “there!” he exclaimed, pointing a to a pile of rubble. They were under there.
Alex and Scott blasted away the rubble and Jean contained it.
“Just one home in the whole neighborhood was destroyed, I wonder why that is?” Hank pondered, standing next to Charles as the others cleared the way.
“We’ll find out in good time, Hank”
“Perhaps it was an attack on mutants?”
“Perh-”
“Charles!” He was cut off by Raven, who was standing over the pile. She stepped down closer to him, shaking her head.
“It was a ‘Stark’ bomb.”
“That explains it.” Charles sighed, but he had no time for grudges. Sean and Alex walked towards them, carrying two unconscious children.
“Good god…” Hank exclaimed, and Charles closed his eyes again, attempting to reach them.
He couldn't.
“She's a telepath.” Jean said confidently, gently placing a hand on the young girl’s bruised face.
“How do you know?” Scott asked, with genuine curiosity in his voice.
“I dunno, I just… I know she is.”
“Let's talk about this later.” Alex said, resting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Any other survivors, charles?”
“No.”
“Great. Then the authorities can handle the rest.” he said, and as if on cue a faint siren could be heard in the distance.
The group left, doing what they could for the children while in the plane, but neither of them woke up.
-
Work was horrible. But hey, What do you expect when going from leader of a controversial civil rights organization to working a 9 to 5 with two kids and a wife?
Erik sighed - he was close to just falling asleep at the steering wheel, but he was looking forward to movie night with his kids - so on he went with nothing more than a yawn.
His neighborhood was nearly in the middle of the woods, but at least the drive was beautiful. The greens and yellows on the leaves, the way the sun shone through them and warmed Erik through the car. Though, the peace was soon disturbed by sirens. Close ones at that. He stepped on the gas slightly - it was probably just a car crash, or a fight. Nothing to be worried about.
Nothing until he pulled into his small neighborhood, only to see destruction.
He stopped his car in the middle of the road and sprinted out, towards his home. He knew he couldn't escape his past life, couldn't be safe for long - but…. His family was fine. They were ok. They had to be.
They had to.
He was stopped by authorities surrounding his house, but he had to get in. “No, my children they-”
“Sir calm down, please!”
“No! My children are in there!” he yelled, attempting to push through the wall of men in front of him. He didn't want to use his powers - couldn't - but he had to get home. He need his kids - he couldn't lose any more of his family he just couldn't.
The men restrained him, but were gentle nonetheless. He didn't realize that tears were falling. “My children…” was all he could manage to say.
The rest of the town was fine. His neighbors were mostly out of town but other than that? Everyone was fine. Everyone except for his family.
There was one charred body who they identified to be Madeline, but Erik didn't stick around to hear the rest.
He had lost three children in less than 20 years. All three of his babies were gone. It was his fault - who else's? The world kept him tired. Kept him in pain. If it, or god, or whatever cruel bastard controls all of this wanted him to be the bad guy then so be it. If they wanted him in pain, to never love again, to never have a chance at redemption, then fine.
-
“P… Peter?”
Pietro groaned, getting accustomed to the bright light above. He blinked a few times in a better attempt to adjust, before slowly moving his eyes to the bed next to him.
“You ok, Wanda?” he asked shakily. His first concern should have been himself - why he was in so much pain, where he was… but he was the older sibling - by less than a minute - but still, he needed to look out for his sister.
She only grunted in response.
Pietro closed his eyes again and attempted to take a deep breath as he surveyed his surroundings. The bright white light still bearing down on him through his eyelids. The light hum of a machine to his right. The steady beep of another to his left. The cold air tickling his face and stinging his newly bandaged wounds.
He could hear voices outside - two of them. They were talking calmly, but Pietro wasn't stupid enough to ignore the concern lacing their voices.
“That's why I can't reach either of them, her telepathy is incredibly strong, she must be blocking me out of fear, not even realizing it.”
“And the boy?”
“I'm not sure, she’s blocking him as well, probably out of protection or something of the sort.”
“Right well, I'll go check on them then.”
Was the last thing said before footsteps were heard as the door creaked open. Pietro's eyes fluttered open again to see the man that had entered. He was tall, broad shouldered and very unfamiliar.
When the boy's eyes opened the man gasped quietly - he didn't expect him to be awake.
“Good morning.” he said awkwardly, making sure to mentally call out to Charles, letting him know that one of the children was awake.
“Where am I?” Pietro asked quietly.
“You’re at a school for the gifted. Specifically, you’re in the hospital wing.”
“Where's my dad?”
“He… you and your sister were the only…” he started, but he cut himself off when Pietro’s tears began to fall.
“No!” he cried - he didn't want to hear it. He placed his hands over his eyes and shook his head before Hank heard the girl begin to cry as well.
Luckily, Charles entered the room and things seemed to calm, if only slightly.
‘You made them cry already?’ he mentally teased to Hank before rolling over in between the bed of the two children.
Hank left the three, figuring it would be more effective if Charles calmed them alone. When he left the room he was met by a group of people - Jean, Scott, Raven and sean.
“Do you… need something?'' Hank questioned, closing the door behind him and looking questioningly at the group.
“I was supposed to get my training today?” Jean said, sitting on the counter.
“Well, rule number one, no sitting on medical tables.” Hank said with a sigh as she quickly hopped down.
“And the rest of you?”
“Scott wanted to tag along.”
“Hi.”
“Hi scott. I'm sorry Jean, today isn't going to work. Come down tomorrow?” he offered, and Jean nodded, grabbing Scott’s hand as the two went back upstairs.
“And Raven? Sean? Can I help you?”
Raven took a deep breath and rubbed her arm nervously, glancing over at Sean.
“Magneto is back.”
-
Charles hadn't seen his face since Cuba. He forgot how beautiful it was. And how sad it made him.
Just a week after they brought the twins - Wanda and Pietro - to the school, Erik returned as “Magneto”.
They discovered that both the children were mutants, the boy had super speed and the girl was a telekinetic telepath, much like Jean.
Though, she denied her mutant powers until she accidentally used her telekinesis. She was ashamed - afraid, to be a mutant, and despite Charles’ attempts to reach her and help her, comfort her, it was all in vain. She was a recluse, hiding in her room, forcing Pietro to do the same and hardly interacting with the others.
That is, until Jean began to mentor her. They even looked somewhat similar - with their long straight hair and green eyes. Jean's hair was slightly redder, and Wanda's skin was slightly tanner, yet despite the age difference they looked like sisters.
And, Jean's empathy helped her open up. Well, not mentally. Charles couldn't get one peak inside either of children's minds, she was incredibly powerful - but socially she was a lot more comfortable after the first few months with Jean around. Therefore, Pietro could be himself. He didn't worry so much about protecting his sister, so he opened up. And, apparently, he was desperate for a father. Understandable coming from a child, but a large difference in comparison to Wanda who showed no verbal interest in any new parental figures, she seemed much more grateful to have a sister. Though, that doesn't mean she and Pietro were distant from each other, in fact they were almost always together.
Pietro would hang out and listen carefully when Jean was mentoring Wanda, and Wanda would secretly listen and be entirely grateful whenever Charles took care of her brother.
And as all these months passed, Scott and Jean stayed behind on all new missions to look after the kids considering how dangerous they had started to become. Initially, they dealt with the smaller issues, along with mutant rights, but now that Erik had returned, that had all become more and more dangerous.
It had been five years of this back and forth - Erik doing what he thought would be right no matter the cost while the X-Men managed to stop or stall him nearly every time.
Five years until Charles was strong enough to face him.
The team had done well so far, but on their most recent venture Alex had gotten caught in a blast and severely injured, and Charles realized that it was more than time to try to reach Erik - if not mentally then perhaps by reason.
Though, a part of him knew that that wouldn't work.
But Erik disappeared for a while, a month at best. Perhaps he knew that Charles was ready to face him. Perhaps he knew what he had done to Alex.
Regardless, Alex healed quickly despite Scott’s fears.
“It should have been me!” he yelled, punching the wall.
“It's ok Scott, breathe.” Jean said, hesitantly resting a hand on his back. “You’re brother’s gonna be fine.”
“Scott, you aren't ready for missions with Magneto yet - you’re too young!”
“I'm twenty-two! I can drink! I can drive! I've been training for seven years! Is that not enough?” he yelled, sitting back in his chair. Jean, Adam and him have all been training since they were 15. Sure, it started easy, but recently it's gotten harder, better. He was more than ready, they were all more than ready to fight Magneto, so why was the professor so hesitant? He was a grown adult!
“Scott, you are ready, but Erik is…” Charles trailed off. Even he didn't understand his own hesitation, other than his deep need to protect his children. But, that didn't get him very far with the Raven, did it?
“I'm your peer, your sister. That's different, Charles. These are your kids.” she would say to reassure him, but it didn't feel so different.
Regardless, he needed to protect them. Or rather, he needed to protect Erik. He knew how powerful Jean was and how strictly determined Scott was… or maybe… maybe Charles hoped this would end. Hoped that Erik would come to his senses - and that was something that would not happen if Charles sent his children after him.
In fact, it didn't happen for another five years.
Five years of Scott begging for more to do, until Charles finally let him and his peers officially join the X-Men.
Five years of Charles riding along, trying desperately to help Erik who would only give him a pained look - but nothing more.
Five years of Wanda and Pietro arguing and arguing about their father.
They were the only ones who knew Erik was their father, and they planned to keep it that way; avoiding his missions, Wanda intentionally keeping the barrier over their minds, the two never talking about their family.
And though the X-Men fought Erik, time and time again, Charles made it clear that he wasn't to be harmed, only helped. And throughout the years jail became an acceptable option, but Wanda wasn't having it. She wanted him dead. He abandoned them, left them and their mother to die in their old house only to go on and commit atrocities for no reason. Pietro wouldn't have it either. He wanted to help him, to bring it home. He was convinced that Erik would never abandon them, and had a valid reason for doing all of these things - like Charles, he believed that he was a good man who had just lost his way, despite the fact that the two had never discussed Erik together before.
The only other thing they would fight over was their mother. Pietro remembered how she treated him. Shamed him for being a mutant, ignored him, and worse… but Wanda remembered differently. She loved her more than anything, treated Wanda like an angel so she acted like one.
But they couldn't act on any of their desires in fear that the X-Men would find out - there would be a time and a place for that.
For now, Charles and his X-Men were gone, no doubt confronting Magneto, and Wanda and Pietro were left to look after the school.
“Peter! We have a guest!” she called through the house swinging open the heavy front doors to reveal two people. They were hardly older than her - at least, no older than Jean.
There was one woman, she was tall and her dark black curly hair framed her dark skin. She was standing with someone else, who was wearing a hood and a mask, clearly trying to hide his face, though he was the one to speak.
“Hello, fraulein. Is Professor Xavier home?”