Fan Fiction ❯ Flood. ❯ I need you to hold me.To keep me from drowning again. ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

A streak of lightening broke through the never-ending pitch-black sky; for barely a moment. Adding to the eerie aura of the scene, thundered boomed in the background every so often in complete rhythmic unison with the bolts of lightening. Needless to say, the worst part was not the darkened world, lightening, or even the earth shaking thunder, it was this stately, prison like building, that stood firmly, far off in the woods, hours away from real civilization. Three stories of massive brick, barred windows, complete with a dozen or so highly renowned doctors adorned with long white lab coats hearts made of stone. These doctors “specialized” in these kinds of cases; were now eagerly waiting for their newest victim.
A scene pulled right out of a classic horror film, the ones with a terrifying monster, and normally an angry mob not too far off, pitchforks and torches in hand.
But, this time instead of a disfigured looking monster like Frankenstein, it was a little girl, and the angry mob was transformed into the doctors, and her own father.
“Father! PLEASE, don't leave ME here! I'll be good! I PROMISE! Just don't leave me here!”
The three muscular wardens took hold of the little raven-haired girl, trying to force this delicate creature into the jaws of the “monster.” She choked back on her sobs and let her tears flow freely down her face as she continued with even more spirit to get lose from their grasps, and continued to plea to this unforgiving, cold man; her father.
Even after he looked at her with no attentions to help her, and when his gaze shown any signs of sorrow or pity, she finally believed her only way to get free was through her own efforts. She continued to kick and scream in frustration. Confusion and fear were written in her beautiful blue eyes. She was about to give up until her gaze was finally flickered apon him, her best friend, her dearest brother, and twin.
“Brother! Please save me! Help me! You CANT let him do this to me! Save me!”
He his head perched up and his eyes finally connected with hers, and at that moment his whole body seemed to cease working with one look from her, time and space itself slowed down. His heart pounded painfully against the wall of his chest, and his pulse quickened to an unnatural pace. All he could see was the pain in her eyes, and all he could feel was her pain for that brief moment. Finally, life seemed to flash forward when a doctor stealthy crept up behind Wanda and plunged a fully loaded syringe into her tiny arm. She became silent at once, her arm drooped to her side flatly, and her head fell forward and then she was dragged off into the monster of a building.
He dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, he suddenly became fixated on the growing puddles of water on the smoothly paved driveway. His unwanted tears began to flow at first slowly, one by one, and then became a huge current of flood. He knew a piece of his soul was now gone, perhaps even forever. Time suddenly stopped as the young boy fixed his teared filled sapphire eyes on the building, the prison, keeping him and the person who mattered most to him, apart. But what hurt him the most, was the fact he DIDN'T stop them from taking her, not even a word or an movement from him, he became like a statue for once in his short life, (inconveniently) when it mattered most, when she NEEDED him most. He shook his small head in disgust and angrily swiped at the piece of white hair that fell in the view of his eyes. He was disgusted with himself now, he could feel it, in the pit of his stomach growing rapidly and his heart ached with it, he'd never experienced a feeling like that before, or at least not towards himself.
The heavy drops of rain continued to fall and splatter water against the hood of the car, as if in rage. The car rolled out of the driveway and he continued to cling onto the window, nose pressed against the cold tinted glass, in hopes of catching one last glimpse of her. He already longed to see her sweet angelic face and see her sparkling eyes, the eyes of their mother. To see her like she was only hours ago, sweet, contented, and innocent. His hopes were shattered instantly. A loud cough erupted from the man sitting across him, who just so happened to be his dad and sister's tormentor; he loudly cleared his voice in hopes to get his son's attention.
“Pietro, it's for her own good. It's for the best; for all of us. Someday you will realize that.”
His father always was so self assured and confident of himself and his decisions; he thought he was in control of everyone and everything that really irked the people around him. Pietro let out a sigh and slipped slowly back into his black leather seat in defeat; the same seat his sister sat in cheerfully waiting for daddy's “big surprise” only minutes ago, or was it hours ago?
That day he decided his dad was a terrible person and some day, somehow he would get his revenge for what that monster had done to Wanda.
`Don't worry sis, I'll visit you a soon as I can. Maybe I'll even set you free and we can both run away together; from him and start life over again.'
He thought with a certain hope, determination, and seriousness, most people thought wasn't possible a little 8 yr old could have.
He continued to glance outside the window past the fogged window, only to his disappointment the institute was disappearing further and further away till it was practically the size of teeny tiny doll house. A big fat tear rolled down his fair skinned, small round face; sadness and hatred filled his young heart.
Today Pietro declared was defiantly NOT one of his good days. Heck he even decided it was indeed a very terrible day. First Peter “accidentally” spilt his choc. Milk all over his brand new white shirt at snack time, then Mrs. Meddlesome (no joke) took him aside during free time to talk to him about his “troubling behavior” towards the other “children,” who from his point of view were monsters and rude, while she seen them as angelic children who needed “guidance” to know what was right and what was not. But Pietro at even 2 years old, barely able to speak learned the difference from right and wrong right off; from of course his father.
Flashback
A very nervous man tugged on his tie…he wasn't exactly what you'd call a normal dad. For one his attire was ALWAYS made specially for him by some designer brand,
Second, about 95 of the time he was forced to spend time with his small children, the twins, by his wife Magda. Not that he was a mean dad or anything, but ever since the fire incident that cost him the life of his precious daughter, Anya, he decided safely not to get too attached to these chubby, angelic babies. For he knew all too well how much he praised and spoiled, his now deceased little girl. It his love hadn't saved her, and what he didn't know was that nor did it hurt the least bit that he did love her. In her time of need he couldn't save her, and for a short brief time his wife also was gone; afraid of this monster that replaced her once cheerful, kind husband. Luckily for him, he eventually found her and they basically started their lives all a new, but the two yr old twins that came with her came to a big shock for him.
Third, this “dad role” was kind of like a whole new role for him, as if the 6 blissful years of raising Anya never happened so now he sat their an uptight, even nervous business man tugging on his tie trying to think of what to say to his 2 year old son, yeah that's right, he expected to have a complete conversation with a two yr old AND he even went as far to EXPECT the little boy to understand every single word.
Suddenly the words came to him. He glanced down at the boy who was obviously his son, sapphire eyes and matching snow white hair, with surprisingly fair skin and long, thick, dark eyelashes for a boy, dressed in a big blue t-shirt looking at his father with curious eyes.
“Son, I think its time for us to have lets say a “chat.” He began to drone on about his tough childhood, the loss of his parents, and even meeting Magda. After a bit he seemed to completely forget whom he was talking to, because he was so caught up in his old memories. He even through in a few “jokes” and went as far as to explain what was wrong about his life, what he'd done wrong, and what he'd done right and was almost in tears by the time he explained to his little son how he should live his own life.
Pietro barely knew how to say a phrase let alone sentences. His eyebrows were raised and he looked curiously at the towering man speaking to him. He picked up his stuffed teddy bear and hugged it with his chubby arms. He was scared he barely knew this guy, known now as his “father” and he was starting to miss Wanda, the most he was ever separated from her was a mere minutes and this seemed a whole lot longer. He buried his face further in the bear's soft, almost silky fur trying to hide his fear, and now his tear filled eyes from this “father” person who little Pietro seemed to take for someone who saw crying as shameful..
end flashback
He was snapped back from one of his earliest memories when his teacher kneeled on the ground and put her arm on his shoulder.
Pietro couldn't help but roll his eyes at her, not just her but at how stupid his dad was…
`Not another `chat'
“Pietro, dear, I do not understand why you enjoy being alone so much.
She sighed
“They were only trying to be nice by asking you to join their game.”
She gestured unknowingly towards the group of boys, that now seemed to be enjoying their finger painting a lot…and attacking a semi nerdy boy with chubby painted fingers.
Now she'd done it. His tiny hands were now shaped as fists and shaking with anger.
He tried as nicely as he could answer her, through gritted teeth.
“Mrs. Meddlsome, I am TIRED of them. If you knew anything you'd know they aint nice kids at all, heck their just plain bullies! AND you should just stay outta my life! Its my own business why I don't like the other kids! Just L-E-A-V-E M-E ALONE!”
He turned his back (before she could get a word in) and stomped out of the room. Of course before leaving he pushed Peter, the main bully into the can of red paint. Causing chaos and screaming to take over the classroom before he made his dramatic exit. He grinned happily at his own accomplishment.
`I'm NEVER going back to this stupid place EVER again!'
He wanted to cry…well almost.
`How DARE she remind me of how alone I really am! I MISS Wanda soo much…I cant believe its been almost a whole year and I haven't done a darned thingy to help her escape. I haven't even visited her at all or even tried! I HATE father…I'll show him one day. NO today is the day, I'm gonna break her outta there and were going to somehow find away to escape him..for good.'
He started running as far as his little legs would take him, strangely enough all of sudden he started gaining more and more speed. The wind sweeping back his white hair from his face and tears started gathering in his eyes from the intensity of his speed. He watched as the scene blurred with how fast he was running. He finally stopped but where he stopped he didn't expect to ever see again.
“Whoa how did I do that?” he thought aloud and looked at his surroundings questionably.
The wind was tugging on his clothes… “Join me. Join me. Join me.” It gently whispered against his ears. Softly caressing his whole body. He took a deep breath and stood their enjoying the warm embrace of the sun's rays. Unclenching his fists he smirked as he let the feeling grab him and carry him away.
He began to gain speed. Leaping from 25 to 125 in barely 2 seconds. Enjoying the rush of the ever so familiar wind against his whole being and his heart thudding against his chest, in such a way it brought the adrenaline to his veins and the young man began to feel truly alive. He gave away himself that day to the wind, to the sun, whilst escaping from everything at the same time. If only he had wings on his back he could be swept up in the wind's soothing embrace and fly away. Then Pietro would truly be free; being himself and lacking none in serenity he would and only could be called paradise.
Slowing down gradually he finally came to a complete halt; stopping with inhuman grace and casualty. Minutes later laying his head back on the field of soft green grass, his hands for a pillow, legs stretched out, he fell asleep feeling contented and maybe even truly happy. He smiled as he slept for the first time in weeks without interruptions and nightmares that had haunted him for years.
Hours later eyes fluttered open and his ears became alert to the sound coming. The repeated silence between each 5 seconds brought no comfort. He regarded the oncoming storm with little interest and just sat up and watched the storm slowly form. The dark clouds covered the once apparent and bright sun till patches of light shone through only. He lay on his back again once cool drops of rain began to pelt his face; embracing the storm he just lay there. Refusing to let his serenity, his complete happiness pass with the fading light and warm intoxicating air. Laughing softly as lightening streaked the sky and became one with the booming and bold thunder; working as a team. Yawing into his hand Pietro began to dwell on why he enjoyed such days now. Maybe it was because a day very much like this (now) had brought a curtain of darkness upon his life. He shook his head slightly as if to vanquish the mere thought.
“I can't keep doing this to myself…” he whispered out loud.
With another boom of thunder he slowly (for once) stood up and looked at his surroundings. Today was going to be the day everything changed, he had a good feeling too, in the back of his mind he just knew it. As a flash of silver he darted across the meadow until he was back into the city and standing right in front of the Brotherhood house; his new home.
FlashBack
Pietro tossed his gym bag onto the black leather couch next to him as he leaned back in his chair remembering his recent success on the basketball court minutes earlier.
“Pietro, son, we have to have a discussion.”
Pietro's least favorite words that came from his monster of a father. Actually any word or sentence Magneto spoke, especially directed towards him, and was one of his least favorite things ever. He hated to listen to his useless, overbearing criticism, and lack of praise. Talks that lasted for only mere minutes but seemed to last for eternity once silence would fall upon the room.
Pietro opened his one eye suspiciously eyeing Magneto, searching him as if his own father would stab him in the back at any given moment, but that was the thing because he was his son he had to watch his every move. Being trustworthy was a trait Eric either neglected or lost over years of a very bitter and harsh life.
Magneto took a deep breath and continued.
“Rather a new set of orders for you…that will NOT be discussed. You are to listen intently and carry out. And old friend and I have been secretly locating other young, reliable mutants to assemble a team. A team of which will outshine and outbeat Xavier's tiny squad.”
The last sentence grabbed Pietro's full attention.
“And what exactly does all of this have to do with me again?”
Losing his temper Magento slammed his clenched fist on the table next to Pietro.
“It has EVERYTHING to do with you. Boy, if you want to get anywhere in life you better listen to me. I am all that you have, without me you are nothing.” Magneto removed his fist from the table and straightened to his full height and recomposed himself.
“You are to be the leader of this group. You will be called the Brotherhood of Mutants and you will NOT fail.” Determination and menace visible in his voice.
Pietro narrowed his eyes at Magneto wandering what was wrong with this whole “plan.” Crossing his legs on the table infront of him.
“And what is it again we are not to fail at my dearest father?” He mockingly asked, voice dripping with disgust and sarcasm. Pietro knew exactly what his response would be. To prove to the world, mutants are the future and we are and have always been better then the lowly humans. And if need be we will show them and that ever so foolish Xavier he is wrong; peace will never be a base of the relationship between mutants and humans only fear and hate.
End flashback