Pietro Maximoff (Django Frank), professional dick (quicksilvering) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-10-07 13:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, pietro maximoff (quicksilver) |
Who: Pietro Maximoff [Narrative]
What: Dreams of the House of Magnus
Where: Pietro and Wanda's apartment
When: Saturday night
Rating: PG13? Nothing especially offensive, but some talk of murder and abuse
Pietro's dreams came in bits and pieces, swirling moments of information hitting him before fading into new scenes. Throughout them all were subtle undertones of darkness that he picked up on reluctantly. He would see himself with his wife, Crystal, and then know they were divorced. He had a child, Luna, but he feared what his lifestyle might do to her. In Pietro's dreams, he realized that it was a rare thing that he thought himself a hero, even though he was more often on the side of good than bad. He mentioned a father, often and spitefully, but never got a face or a name to connect the pieces together.
On Wanda's couch, Pietro twisted the cushions in a restless sleep. These dream, though, weren't like any others. These dreams seemed to be what all the hints had been pointing towards.
"They're going to kill her!"
It was almost like there were two consciousnesses in Pietro's mind. There was the Pietro of that world, Quicksilver, who was nearly bent double in anguish, and there was also the Pietro of the real world, who took in as many details as possible. He found himself in a dark room, speaking to a man who looked very much like Pietro, but older. This was their father, Pietro suddenly knew.
"What would you have me do?" He sounded desperate and sad and for a moment, Pietro's temper flared at the older man's inability to stop the harm that would come Wanda's way.
But the agony won out in the end. Pietro fell to his knees and cried because he couldn't imagine a world without Wanda in it.
In the distance his sister stirred in bed.
The scene faded into another and Pietro couldn't tell how much time had passed. He was holding Wanda in one arm, leaning gently against her.
"How was it supposed to be?" she asked in a quiet voice. She sounded like a child.
Pietro answered. "We were supposed to be a family."
"Yes."
"We were supposed to be great heroes."
"We were, for a bit."
"I liked being an Avenger more than I ever said." He breathed out quietly and, not for the first time, silently cursed himself for how much of a prick he could be.
"Me too. And look what I did to them. I would do anything to take it back." Wanda sounded worn. Pietro feared that just a simple conversation would stretch her too thin, but he was loathe to remove himself from her.
The pair were silent for long moments and something grew inside Pietro. Desperate and hopeful in the way a person with very little to lose could be, he opened his mouth, closed it, and then quickly spoke. "You could..."
The world blurred before Pietro's eyes and suddenly he was standing beside a throne. He remembered everything; the old world and the new one that he helped Wanda create, the one in which mutants were the ruling class, in which everyone they knew had their deepest desires come true.
Magneto ruled as king of mutantkind. Wanda had two sons. They made the House of Magnus and everything was perfect for a time. Days passed by peacefully and Pietro - the one who lived in the real world - waited for the other shoe to drop. He could feel it coming. This was the sort of dream where he just knew things would end badly.
When it did, it happened quickly. Pietro almost watched from outside himself as Magneto found him and attacked, shouting accusations at him that Pietro could barely hear. He was too busy being crushed by metal, smacked about again and again until he was laying in a pool of blood and fading out of consciousness.
It was Wanda that saved him and as dim as the world around him was, Pietro found this fitting. They had always saved one another. In the end, Pietro and Wanda had only ever had each other. One quick swipe of her hand and Pietro's wounds healed. He gasped and wrapped his arms around his sister, clinging weakly to her.
"He only wanted you to be happy. Look what you've done to us, Daddy. Pietro was right - you ruined us before we even had a chance. Why would you treat your own children this way? Babies. Why? Because you actually think you're better than everyone else. The arrogance of you. You think because we're mutants we're better than them. That we deserve to rule. That's what you wanted and I gave it to you. But look... look what it becomes. Even when you get what you want, you're still this horrible man."
Her voice rose and Pietro felt something like worry bubble in the back of his head. "We're not the next step. We're not gods. We're freaks. Look at us, Daddy. We're freaks. Mutants! You chose this over us and you ruined us."
She cried and Pietro tried to reach out, but his arms were still weak.
"Daddy, no more mutants."
The world flashed white and Pietro woke with a start. Gasping, he sat up and brought a hand to his forehead. Sweaty and restless, Pietro picked himself up and reached for the nearest articles of clothing he could find. He ignored the stale smell from the day old shirt and pulled it over his head. Then he stepped into jeans and laced up his sneakers.
Pietro had never run before the dreams. He had biked and drove and wandered, but running hadn't ever been so fulfilling as when he'd started dreaming. The sun wasn't yet up and Wanda would probably wonder where he'd gone, but Pietro snatched his keys off a table and all but threw himself out of the apartment. He wanted to hit something, but running was the next best thing. Scowling at the neon lights in their hallway, Pietro found his way out of the building and ran, pushing himself until his breath came out in ragged gasps. Even pushing himself as hard as he could, he couldn't escape the scenes that replayed over in his head.