Pietro Maximoff (breakthebarrier) wrote in marvel_prep, @ 2013-09-25 20:43:00 |
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Current mood: | restless |
Entry tags: | petra, quicksilver |
Log: Playing catch up
Characters: Pietro Maximoff & Christy Nord
NPCs: n/a
Location: Callisto’s hideout
Timeline: 21 September 2013, early evening [Backdated]
Description: Catching up; it’s been a long time coming
Rating: PG
Ever since the break out, Petra felt like she couldn’t breathe. The collar around her neck was still there, but she had largely forgotten about its presence having had over a month to become accustomed to the weight around her neck. She’d spent a large portion of the time since their escape with Dominik but she knew he was itching to just leave her alone and get away from her - she would be too if she’d been forced to spend so much time with another individual for a month - but he wasn’t around and she couldn’t help the anxious feeling that pulled at her with her being alone in an unfamiliar place. They couldn’t break ground, couldn’t go up and get some fresh air because they were wanted fugitives and she-
She pushed her fingers through her hair and kicked a pebble, feeling pathetic for suffering from separation anxiety from someone who was likely really pleased to be released. Right now, she wasn’t entirely sure whether or not they were in a better position. After all, at least they got to see the outside at the MDC. They had beds and food and weren’t hiding down in the sewers.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful, far from it, but this freedom had come at a price and the potential risk to the people she cared about had been high. John and Pietro had put themselves at the risk of arrest, at risk of prosecution and incarceration all to get her out of jail? She didn’t understand that; she’d never had anyone who would go to bat for her like that and she hadn’t been able to thank either of them yet. She couldn’t believe they’d been so stupid as to try something like this, she wasn’t worth that kind of risk. John had Jean to think about. Pietro had his sister and he had Meggan to look out for, people who needed him to be safe and to protect them. And he risked getting arrested for her? Why would he do that?
She scratched underneath the collar and blew out a breath, ignoring the itching under her skin that was as a direct result of not knowing where Dominik was - he’d said he would be back soon, he’d gone to talk to Remy - and she hated that she was thinking maybe he’d be glad for the space. That he wouldn’t need to watch over her anymore and perhaps that was for the best? After all, it was her fault they’d been arrested in the first place.
She kicked another pebble, listening to it skitter down the concrete path before it fell into the water with a soft ‘plonk’ and she snorted to herself, turning into a slightly wider, open area that was where she was to be sleeping. The lights weren’t great, they flickered and the whole place felt more oppressive in some ways than the prison she’d been broken out of, but she was grateful, she was. What else could she be, it would have been nice to have access to her powers again, though.
She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, the rush of a breeze and she curled her arms around herself, flinching (in a way that was indicative of the way the guards had treated them in prison) before she could help herself. She slowly turned on her heel, hair loose around her face, slightly greasy lengths curled at the ends and hanging past the middle of her back now.
“Pietro,” she greeted with a nod of her head and a small smile, uncurling her arms in an effort to just try and relax. It was good to see him without the glass separating them, but she still felt hesitant. A month was such a long time. And she was trying to be mad at him for doing something so stupid that could have resulted in his arrest.
Pietro Maximoff was a lot of things and as such it meant that he was impulsive and passionate, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Petra was one of those people and as such he'd do pretty much anything for them. It was a little well known fact about Pietro, but he liked it that way, least then nobody would take advantage of that facet to his character.
He recognised the closed off position and knew all too well how somebody fostered such body language, he'd seen it enough in Wanda to know the signs and it made his blood boil. But it was okay, she was free now. Or as free as she could be.
Pietro was going to stay as long as he was able before he'd return to the surface, seek out his sister and make plans. Whatever they were, he'd worry about that later.
"Hey," he muttered as he came to sit beside her, drawing his legs up and resting his arms across his knees. "How you doing?"
Petra shrugged her shoulders, mimicking his position and rocking back and forth a little. She rested her chin atop her knees and then turned her head to face him properly, cheek resting against the forearms braced on her knees. “I don’t know,” she said honestly, “You know you shouldn’t have risked yourself like that, not for me.” She wet her lower lip, “But thank you. I haven’t had a chance to say it yet.”
She closed her eyes briefly and then looked forward again, leaning to the side slightly just to nudge Pietro’s shoulder gently with her own. “But don’t do anything stupid like that again, okay? I’d hate to have to kick your butt.”
Pietro snorted a little as his shoulder was nudged and he shrugged. “I’m not making any promises, Christy.” And he wasn’t because Pietro was of the mind that what they had done hadn’t been a bad idea. Stupid yes, but bad idea? Definitely not. And he’d do it again if it came down to it. No reservation or hesitation.
“But you’re welcome,” he offered with a smirk.
Rolling her eyes, she nudged him again, a little harder this time. In some ways it felt like it hadn’t been over a month since they were sat side by side, but then she thought about the collar and how she could feel it again all of a sudden, the weight around her neck, chafing against her skin, restrictive… “Seriously, there’s a line. You don’t put your neck across it for just anyone.”
“I didn’t,” Pietro answered easily and effortlessly.
The silver haired Maximoff was by far the most guarded of the twins, but once somebody slipped past his defenses they were pretty much rooted in a rare but particularly intense part of his emotions, meaning he’d go to great lengths to look out for them. A few people had earned themselves that particular place, Petra was one of them.
“Besides,” he said as he reached down to toy with the laces of his boots. “I couldn’t turn a blind eye.”
“I just- I wouldn’t have wanted you to get arrested,” Petra said quietly, uncurling herself and putting her legs out straight in front of her, a far less guarded position even as she turned her upper body to face Pietro. “Not for me.” For Wanda, well, that would be different, she knew Pietro would do anything to protect his twin and as well he should. After all, family came first. Petra wished she had some left. Dominik was the closest thing she had now, she supposed.
She pushed her hair back behind her ear, fingers catching on the collar and fiddling with it absently, the same way she had right at the beginning. “But I’m glad you’re here. Have you been doing okay? You look like you’ve lost weight.” She reached out like she was going to touch him and then aborted the movement like she wasn’t sure if she still had the right. She and Pietro had always been quite tactile, like Dominik but different. But Pietro had yet to touch her. To be fair, she was yet to touch him too.
“Lost weight?” Pietro repeated, wondering if he had and he just hadn’t noticed in the recent maelstrom of emotion. Emotion which had been directed and aimed at the MDC and the MRA not to mention the MRD. It still sat heavy on his chest, but he felt a little lighter knowing that Petra was out of that place, but he’d spent so long waiting for something to happen that it took some time to shake things off. “I hadn’t really noticed.”
He scrubbed at his hair then his hand in the blink of an eye had reached out to catch Petra’s fingers, drawing them away from the collar.
“And trust me breaking you out has been the furthest I’ve been from getting arrested.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better,” Petra drawled, eyes falling to where Pietro’s fingers circled her own. She closed her hand around the touch, thumb brushing along the back of his fingers. “What happened? You obviously didn’t get arrested… they didn’t hurt you, did they?” Her mind flashed to tasers and suddenly she had the urge to check him for marks, scars, anything that would indicate that they had tried to hurt Pietro the same way they had hurt her and Dominik. She would bear the scars from both her brushes with tasers for the rest of her life now, she supposed Pietro healed enough that it didn’t matter to him? His body would heal…
“Depends on your definition of the word,” Pietro offered with a small snort. “But they did their best.” He touched his chest and tapped his fingers there for a moment. “It’s all healed now, healed the moment I got my superspeed back.” Which suggested that he had also been collared, but Pietro wasn’t one for dramatics so he tended to just throw light on things he’d experienced in his life or just didn’t talk about them, for obvious reasons.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Thankfully I’m a good runner, with or without it.”
Petra’s eyes widened and she reached out wit her other hand and brushed her fingers along the curve of his throat where the collar would have sat. “How did you get it off?” she asked, a dark anger swirling behind her eyes, indignation that the cops would collar Pietro for - what she would have considered - no good reason. What possible right would they have had? She doubted he would have done anything to invoke their wrath. Not when he had to be so careful.
“Bastards.” She dropped her hand away from his throat self consciously, the hand that Pietro still held tensing like she was only not touching her own collar because of the touch of his fingers against hers. “Sounds like the world’s gone mad since I’ve been locked up.”
“I have a friend,” Pietro said with a smirk. “A fellow Roma. Smart and capable. He managed to get it off me.” Thankfully because he was sure he might have gone insane had Victor not stepped in and worked his magic.
He shifted ever so slightly so his shoulder was resting against the wall and he was turned to face her.
“The world really has gone mad,” he said with a shake of his head. “It’s very much us versus them at the moment. And I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” If there was such a thing.
“That is lucky, about your friend, that is,” Petra offered with a nod of her head, after all, it was no small feat removing one of these collars. When she and Dominik had tried at the beginning they’d been treated to a nice electric shock for their troubles. “You didn’t get shocked, right?”
She wet her lower lip, drew it between her teeth and held it there for a few long moments before she nodded her agreement. “Things are gonna get worse after news of our breakout circulates. Now we’ve really done something wrong, I’m pretty sure it’s against the law to break out of jail.” Her words were punctuated with a small smile and a wink to soften any kind of sting or any indication that she was ungrateful for the risk that had been taken on her behalf.
Her fingers lifted again to fiddle with the collar, pushing her fingers under the metal to press skin against skin.
“Yeah, I kinda did,” Pietro said with a small smirk.
Pietro was silent for a moment before a quotation came to mind, one that seemed apt for their predicament. “I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do. I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do.” He leaned back against the wall then tipped his head to watch Petra as she fiddled with the collar again. “Simply put, not every rule should be followed if it goes against everything you believe in.”
And it wasn’t like Pietro had the best moral compass as far as the rules or law went.
Petra’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that a Pietro Maximoff original or was that said by someone far wiser than we’ll ever hope to be?” she asked with a tilt of her head, watching his eyes fall to her neck and she realised she was fiddling with the collar again. She really needed something to do with her hands. She laced her fingers together but that wasn’t enough, she instead picked at the skin on the edge of her thumbnail. At least she wasn’t touching the collar.
She shook her head, “I don’t disagree. I just think that the fall out from this’ll make things worse. I’m not saying you didn’t do the right thing, morally. ‘Nik shouldn’t have been in there anyway, they should have gotten him released on bail at least ages ago. I think Bobby did more damage than Nik and he got out.”
She stretched long legs out in front of herself, the clothes she had been bought didn’t fit her as well as they used to, clothes that once clung to her curves hung loose because she’d lost weight herself whilst in the prison, not that she’d noticed herself, not until she’d been changing out of that jumpsuit and into clothes that, at one point, had fit her like a glove.
“How long’re you staying for?”
"Someone far wiser than either you or I will ever hope to be," Pietro admitted with a chuckle before he tapped his feet and fidgeted as he did because he rarely sat still. "But the message is still really relevant."
A shrug accompanied her words. "Honestly I think it was only a matter of time because I know from experience that crowd mentality is blind to rhyme or reason. It's consuming and it doesn't hesitate in trampling over perfectly innocent people. Besides, we're public enemy number one so why the fuck shouldn't we take some radical action? I mean what with the registration bullshit. I've never been the most patient person and I know I felt passionate enough about this course of action that I took part, it's about time we pushed back."
Pietro Maximoff had officially tired of sitting by idly and watching their rights get walked all over.
"Probably until Sunday evening then I need to head back to the school, talk to Wanda, make plans."
“I never would have registered if they hadn’t forced us to as part of the registration,” Petra muttered darkly with a grimace, though as Pietro talked, hinting at his time before he came to America the same way he always did, little hints that added up to a pretty horrific picture, she had to admit, she reached out again, curling her fingers around his wrist. “Considering a large majority of the school have done nothing wrong other than to say that they aren’t registering, the actions that have followed those decisions have been a little… extreme. It’s a prejudicial issue as much as anything.”
She bit her lower lip, “Sometimes I think I should have run when I had the chance. Before all of this started, you know?” She tilted her head, resting it against the wall as she looked at Pietro. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Pietro was distracted from his dark thoughts by the sensation of Petra’s hand at his wrist and his head turned, eyes soaking in the sight of those fingers curled there. “But you try telling that to the people in full support of the MRA,” he said as he lifted his gaze and rested it on Petra’s face. “To them every action the government has taken is in the best interests of the country and its people. I think that’s the most frightening thing, but I’m not surprised. Human nature can be dark and unforgiving.” Look at what it had tried to do to Wanda in Transia.
He offered her a slanted smile, turning his hand over and squeezing her wrist.
“Yeah, me too. Never would have forgiven John if he’d gone ahead with the plan without me.”
“There’s always going to be people who support the MRA, the fear of the Other and all. I- to be honest I’m just-”
She cut herself off, she didn’t know what it was but everything felt different. Perhaps her memories were playing tricks with her? Making her remember things that never were? She gave a small sigh.
“I don’t expect you to stay too long. I know you’ve got to go and take care of your sister. Make sure that you two don’t get arrested. Neither of you would take too kindly to being locked up, Wanda especially.”
She leaned to the side a little, tilted her head and rested it against Pietro’s shoulder. “So what did I miss in your life whilst being trapped in here?”
Pietro glanced at Petra when she rested her head on his shoulder and he offered a small smirk, thumb brushing over the pulse in her wrist. It was sometimes the simplest of touches that could assure you that somebody was there and present.
“We got our team assignments?” He ventured. “Um… I didn’t bother with Homecoming, I experienced what it was like to be normal for a couple days and I hated it. Oh, yeah, Jono’s back. I have yet to smack him in the mouth, but all in good time.”
Petra tilted her head up a little, not able to see Pietro’s face but she could hear the smirk in his voice. Her nose brushed the spot where his pulse fluttered fast underneath his skin before she settled again, watching the soft brush of his thumb against the inside of her wrist.
“Jono came back?” she asked, “From the dead?” She hadn’t really known him, but she’d seen the impact his death - and the death of his friend Haroun - had on the student body. She supposed that was cause for celebration? But was it really when his return only reminded everyone of who hadn’t come back?
She wet her lower lip, “I guessed you’d been collared, must’ve been shitty. And how come you didn’t go to Homecoming? Apart from the fact that you’d have been surrounded by people you hate. Didn’t you want to go with anyone?”
Pietro’s eyebrow flickered at the sensation of Petra’s nose across his pulse and his shoulders lifted. “Apparently he never died. Just dispersed or some shit like that. Nevermind that he took Haroun down with him.”
The mention of Homecoming drew a snort from the speedster. “Homecoming is lame. The only reason I attended the last dance was because Wanda made me.” Also he hadn’t had a date and he’d done the stag thing in the past and it had been dull so no thank you, he’d just rather avoid that mess altogether.
“It’s not like it means anything.”
“And you haven’t punched him in the face yet?” Petra’s eyebrow arched, Pietro would have been able to feel the movement against his skin from where she was leaned against him. Her other hand slid between them, her fingers fiddling with the sleeve of her hooded shirt, and then the tattered edges of his shirt, worn by speedster fingers tugging on loose threads until they caved and untangled.
She rolled her eyes. “You never know, if you’d gone with someone who wasn’t your sister, it might not have sucked. Anyway. What else have I missed, anything?”
“I must be maturing,” Pietro threw out casually. “Or I have better self control than I think.” Which was unlikely. He was Pietro Maximoff after all. “I’m not sure which one it is yet. All I know is he caused a lot of misery and he’s got a second chance so he’d better make good of it.”
He snorted. “It still would have sucked.” Honestly the traditions this country had were strange and odd to him, even now. “And you’ve missed a lot of fights over the journal system about the MRA, people registering, people not registering, we got assigned to our new teams for the team challenges. School started again, that sort of thing.”
“Or you haven’t found the opportune moment to punch him,” Petra offered with a soft laugh, wondering if she should move away from where she was leaned against him. After all, it had been over a month and things changed, people changed. She bit her lower lip, thinking about the merits of pulling back versus the merits of staying where she was. She’d missed the physical contact; seeing someone through the glass wasn’t the same and to be honest she never thought she’d be able to actually crave physical touch the way she did now. Particularly with her friends.
She wet her lower lip, worrying at the skin. “You mentioned the teams. Guess we weren’t included on the roster, huh. Being in jail and all. Not that I mind. The team stuff last year was such bullshit.”
Pietro barked out a short laugh and his eyebrow twitched as a result. “Well there is that.” Pietro smoothed his thumb over her wrist again and shrugged. “Guess there are merits to biding your time like he’ll never see it coming for one thing.”
“It is fucking bullshit,” he affirmed with a nod of his head. “I hated the team stuff last year and that’s not going to change this year. Besides this year I’m graduating so it’s not like I care all that much.”
Eyes falling back to the touch to her wrist, Petra release the grip her teeth had on her lower lip. “Definitely graduating this year?” she asked with a slight teasing tone to her voice, free hand poking his stomach gently. It wasn’t like she could talk, she was held back a year anyway due to her lack of schooling for a couple of years. Thankfully she wasn’t an idiot or stuck learning things for the first time like a lot of the students.
“Hey,” Pietro said with an affronted expression as he caught that poking hand in his other, doing his utmost to prevent any further poking. “I may have been held back a year, but this year? I’m graduating. Put extra time and work in.” Because he was not repeating another year, not when he was sure Wanda would be.
He ruffled her hair and then nudged her in the side. “Just you watch.”
Petra nudged him back, a little harder as she lifted her hand to smooth down her hair. Not that it helped; her hair was suffering from a distinct lack of hairbrush for a couple of days and she felt like she probably looked like some kind of sewer rat as well as a prison escapee.
“Watch the ‘do, man,” she teased, reaching up to push her fingers through the silver strands in retaliation.
“Hey, hey,” Pietro said with a flurry of movement as his superspeed made for an interesting reaction to things including when people messed up his hair. It even went so far as allowing his hand to wrap her wrist and pull her hand out of his hair, blue eyes narrowed in the corner before he chuckled.
An actual laugh, something the speedster hadn’t done in a long time.
Petra’s eyebrow lifted, ignoring that slight surge of panic she felt at having her hand trapped in such a quick fashion but she reminded herself that this was Pietro. And like Dominik he would never hurt her. The laugh made her smile, though. “You know using your powers is cheating,” she pointed out, “especially against the rest of us.”
She shifted, turning her wrist in his grip and easing her arm back a little so that instead of holding her wrist, Pietro’s fingers were curled around hers. “Definitely cheating.”
Pietro chuckled and instead let his fingers still where they had finished up after all of their joking around, shoulders lifting. “Just making use of what I have readily available to me. Just so happens to be superspeed.”
He was silent for a moment before he looked up at her, very serious expression on his face.
“It is good to see you.”
Petra met his eyes, lower lip being drawn between her teeth again as their teasing seemed to fall to the wayside and she was caught up in his intense gaze. Her cheeks coloured a little and she broke the eye contact to duck her head, hide her face, hide the flicker of doubt that the MDC had implanted into her mind that bloomed like a weed, twisting around the cracks in her mind. Was it? Was it really?
“It’s good to see you too, spatz,” she murmured, flicking her eyes up but finding that she didn’t feel worthy of holding that gaze. “Thank you for helping to rescue me.”
“You would’ve done the same for me,” Pietro said easily with a shrug of his shoulders.
Yes, he was guarded and yes he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he was getting better at this whole trusting people. Especially people that had never given him any reason to doubt them. He’d grown a lot as person, he really had.
“Hey,” he said with a nudge to her shoulder. “You wanna explore with me?”
Petra got to her feet first and held her hand out to help Pietro up, fully expecting him to either refuse the offer of her hand or take it and then let go straight away. “Sure. If we get lost, though,” she said, rocking back and forth on her heels as she waited for him to get to his feet, “it’s your fault.”
Pietro rolled his eyes as he reached up to take a hold of her hand, getting to his feet and taking a moment to spin her on the spot before he simply fell in step beside her. “Yeah, yeah, it’s always my fault.”
He soon looped his arm around her neck and pulled her against him as they ventured into the darkness.
Hopefully they wouldn’t get lost or he’d never live it down.