After The Fall

When he'd said he'd be at her room in a moment he'd been rather exaggerating how long it would take him. Barely ten seconds later - and only that long in deference to wear and tear on the flooring - he was pushing her door open and entering her room.

"Anything you need," he reiterated, crossing the room and wrapping her firmly in his arms before planting a kiss atop her head.

[OOC: Continued from here.]

She hadn't thought they'd go immediately, but Pietro had stood, taken her firmly by the hand, and they'd started walking. Somehow, they'd ended up in the Infirmary. As much as she wanted this - to reclaim part of herself - and even having Pietro with her, the moment they stepped through the doors, she found herself feeling skittish. Healers were supposed to help people who needed them. They were around for life or death situations. She surely wasn't in desperate need. Even if it had felt like nothing but dying for five years. As Pietro'd said, there wasn't anything healers could do about that.

"Maybe we should just go..." she whispered, pausing in their forward march.

It was a beautiful day for December. Almost too beautiful. The wind wasn't too strong or all that cold for that matter. Still, Wanda had a coat on to keep from getting too chilled. As well as a scarf, because one never knew. The swing she was sitting on swayed slightly as her heels rocked idly against the sand, and though she wasn't moving at any speed or height, her hands held onto the chain links.

Though there was plenty between where she sat and the lake, it was the direction the sun was, and thus was the direction she faced as she tried to face the elements whenever she could. Lost in thought, she didn't see much of the beauty that surrounded her.

Wanda exhaled in relief as her dresser finished untying the laces of the corset and gave a stretch. It felt good to be free of the costume, much as she enjoyed being in it.

"So," the other girl urged, carefully putting the costume away as Wanda began to dress. "Are you ever going to tell me who that guy is?"

"What guy?" Wanda asked, voice slightly muffled as she tugged her sweater over her head.

The other rolled her eyes. "You know which guy." When Wanda stared blankly back at her she gave a put upon sigh. "Tall, handsome, blue eyes, with the mutanist haircut."

"He's not one of those. His hair's just like that."

"Sure he isn't. And don't change the subject."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about that sinful hottie who's come to the show and sat in your reserved seats the last three shows."

Wanda shrugged. "He's just my friend. Like a brother, really."

"Oh Wanda, please tell me you're joking."

Wanda tugged her boots on and draped her scarf about her throat.

"You're not fucking around with me, are you? You're not dating him? Oh don't give me that face!"

"Hildie, I am not dating him." She pulled on her jacket and hefted her bag over her shoulder. "He's just a really great guy whose been great to me. And I'm really lucky to have him for a friend."

"Wanda, there are quite a few other ways you can be lucky..."

She tugged open her dressing room door, looking over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

It had been a while since she had had the freedom to commune. Familial obligations, school responsibilities and a busy social calendar had given her only enough time for morning and evening devotions. Here, she had significantly less to do. Which meant she had plenty of time to do nothing but lay around in the grass. She hadn't scheduled or planned it, and when the rain came down, she only felt even more compelled. So she'd wandered out into the sprawling expanse of lawn, found a good, plush spot vibrant with life and sprawled out across it.

Closing her eyes, she let herself drift as water soaked her through. Time was not important, and as it always did, the reminder was liberating.

He'd mostly been ignoring the fact that a new version of him had arrived, especially after finding out the boy didn't have a twin. Or didn't think he did. It was unaccountably disturbing. Still, it was a small community and he couldn't avoid him forever...and maybe he was just the slightest bit curious. So when he walked into the kitchen and saw his younger alternate already there he continued in rather than turning around and walking away. He looked at him in silence for a long moment - less than a second, really, but it still felt like eternity to him - before speaking.

"How are you settling in?" he finally asked, for lack of anything better to say.

Wanda had been attempting to merely get them out of the building and hopefully somewhere safe, but that was a tall order and a tiny probability. So when they landed in what looked like a throne room she frowned and looked at Pietro.

"I don't think that was me."

Bobby may have been Long Island born and bred, but he had New England back in his blood for a good long while. Having spent most of his summers in Maine with his Granddad, Bobby knew how to rustle up a good clambake.

The pit was deep and with Johnny's help the stones had reached just the perfect heat. Kurt had helped him lay the seaweed and old sail tarp, so all they'd had to do was wait.

He'd put the word out, so people would show if they wanted. And with Kurt's generous offer of liquor, he was almost certain people would show. Bobby was excited. A party could always help things. And so what they didn't have any music? Real clambakes were all about the singing.