Chapter Text

1. Peter I

Washington, DC, August 30, 1974

Peter Maximoff was having a… strange day. Stranger than usual, even. Which was saying something, when you were Peter Maximoff.
He had woken that day with the strangest craving for fresh pears. He normally hated pears. But not today, no Sir, today he wanted pears. So once he had gotten up, pressed a quick kiss to his exasperated mother’s cheek and grabbed a few cookies, he had made his way to the supermarket. The pears there were… nice. But not what he wanted. So he checked where they were from (Oregon). And at a leisurely pace, that trip took him less than an hour. Why not? He didn't have anything else going on, after all.

So here he was, lying in a field in Oregon, full of fresh pears, music on his ears and napping, when he very suddenly knew something was wrong. It was a feeling at first… like someone was standing behind him, getting closer and then… he saw it, clear as day: His sister Wanda running into the basement, yelling his name.

“Peter?! Peter? Please!”

“Wanda, what are you…”, their mom stood at the top of the stairs, as Wanda started throwing things around, as if looking for something.

“Where is he? Did you lock him away, too?”

“Wanda…”, there was a loud bang.

Wanda raised her hands, shooting scarlet light towards the door. A grunt. A body hitting the floor. Yelling. Another bang. More light from Wanda.

One of her “hexes”, as they used to call them, hit their mom right in the chest. She stumbled. Fell. Wanda yelled. Ran for her… and was hit with some kind of projectile through the open door. 

The vision ended, as Wanda hit the floor.

For all of ten seconds, Peter couldn't move. His head was hurting like crazy, his eyes unable to focus. His ears ringing.

What was that? What the hell had just happened?!

And what had Wanda meant by “locked away”?

Peter hadn't seen his sister in well over a year. Not since the week after the prison break. When mutants had become public knowledge and Peter had met Erik.

Ten seconds. Peter counted. To him, that was an eternity. The moment he could confidently move again, he ran faster than he had ever done before. Home, back to DC. Back to his mom. He ran so fast, he did the 2700 miles in little more than half an hour. 

There were people milling around the house, an ambulance, police and every neighbor home in the early afternoon. Peter ran past them, right into the basement… where five people were standing around the lifeless body of his mother. He stopped dead.

A police officer threw his notepad into the air, the other drew his gun and pointed it at Peter, who wasn't even acknowledging him.

He kneeled next to the paramedics, who took his sudden appearance a lot more relaxed.

Carefully, slowly, he reached for his mom’s hand. Warm. She was warm. She couldn't be dead!

But her eyes were open and her neck oddly bent and… no. No. No!

His mom wasn't dead. She couldn't be! She was his mom!

People were talking all around him. Yelling at him.

He heard one of the paramedics yelling for the cop to put his gun away, but nothing really registered.

Shock, his mind supplied, I am in shock.

But still… he couldn't do anything about it. He just… sat there. Holding his mom's hand.

“Hi, my name is Gilbert. Can you tell me your name?”

Can I? Yes. I can.

But his mouth wouldn't move. The words didn't want to come out.

Another voice, more mumbling. Anger. Yelling.

Then he heard another voice: “One of the neighbors told me she had a teenager. Peter.”

Gilbert was back: “Are you Peter?”

“Yes.”

There it was. He did it. He made it.

“I am sorry for your loss, Peter.” 

Loss. Yes. Loss. 

With a sudden rush his mind and reality synched up and his eyes snapped to the face of the man next to him.

“They came into our house.”

“I don't know what…”, Gilbert, tall, brunette, kind-looking.

“Several of your neighbors called the police, Peter. Said people in dark vans stormed your house. And carried someone out.”

“My sister, Wanda.”

“Do you know why someone would attack your family?”

“No.” It was a lie, of course. The neighbors had always been afraid of Wanda. Before people had known Mutants even existed, they had called her dangerous. A witch. Then she had run away.

Did you lock him away, too?

But that was impossible, right?

“So… you are one of those Mutants?”, the cop’s voice was gruff and aggressive. Peter was used to that.

“Yes.”

“And that sister of yours?”

“Her, too.”

“Great.”

“Peter, we will have to move your mother now, okay? Is there someone we can call for you?”, Gilbert asked, carefully getting off the floor.

What a strange thing to ask. His someone was dead. And his sister, his partner in crime, his favorite person, was gone. Taken.

“No. No one.”

If someone had taken Wanda because of her powers, how was he supposed to find her? Even he couldn't check every house. Every car… but… if they had taken Wanda, they might be able to block him anyway.

Erik. His father. The crazy murdering mutant dude. Could he help? Would he? Peter wasn't big on terrorism, but maybe that was exactly the kind of energy he needed to find Wanda.

But Erik Lehnsherr was still public enemy No. 1. He couldn't just look him up or find him (he knew that. He had tried, after all. Read every article, every little snippet of information on the man. Two months ago there had been a report on a sighting in Kansas, but nothing since then. And yes, Peter had gone there himself to check it out).

Charles Xavier.

He still had the card, after all. They hadn't exactly looked like friends, far from it even, but Xavier had recruited him to break Erik out of the Pentagon, so if ANYBODY might know where to find the guy...

Back to his usual fast speed, he tried to ignore the stretcher being carried past him, as he rummaged through his stuff.

“Peter, what…”, the Cop tried again, but Peter ignored him, speeding up to the point where no one would be able to interrupt him.

There it was. Xavier's School for gifted Youngsters.

Westchester, New York. It would only take him minutes. 

He reached for his old gym back, threw in a change of clothes and a picture of him, Wanda and their Mom and another just of him and his twin, before he left the house and vowed to never look back.

--------------------------

Westchester, New York August 30, 1974

Peter didn’t easily tire, like… ever. But when he reached Westchester, he was ready to just lie down and forget the world existed. But, he reminded himself, Wanda was out there, possibly hurt, and he’d be damned, if he just abandoned her. Even if she… no, stop it.

Peter leapt over the gate and ran through the open front door, past a small, red boy holding it open for a friend. First room? Nothing. Second room? No. The next door was closed, so he threw it open to find five students taking notes, with Xavier sitting next to a blackboard and, apparently, lecturing them on something, so Peter stopped right in front of him. 

Behind him, someone yelled. Xavier dropped the chalk in his hand, then started blinking rapidly.

“Peter?”, he asked, his hand still raised, just empty.

“Yeah, cool. You remember me. That helps. Hey, have you always been in a wheelchair? No, you weren’t during our prison break. So that’s new. Sorry, man, bummer.”

Xavier blinked again, as if he had trouble following Peter’s words. Maybe he had. Peter wasn’t really in the mood to pace himself.

“You know this guy, Professor?”, one of the students asked carefully, “Should we get help?” As another student loudly asked, “Prison break?!”

“No, thank you, Marilyn, Peter is an old friend. Though…”, his eyes traced over Peter’s face, “Maybe go get Dr McCoy for me, and then you are all dismissed for the day.”

Mumbling and shuffling, as all five teens moved out.

“And close the door, please!”, Xavier called after them.

“How are you, Peter?”, He asked, when they were finally by themselves.

“Been better.”

“Do you want to talk about…”

“No.”

“Quite alright. What can I do for you, Peter?”

“I need to find Erik Lehnsherr.”

Peter wasn’t sure what kind of pause was considered normal for slow people, but the way Xavier stared at him seemed excessive.

“Peter, Erik isn’t…”

The door opened and one of the other guys Peter had met that day walked through, looking slightly harried and absentmindedly carrying a clipboard.

“Peter! I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Marvelous! How are you?”

“In a rush.”

“Okay.”, McCoy looked a little deflated.

“He wants help looking for Erik.”, Xavier explained, sounding more confused than worried.

“Oh dear, why?”

“Because I need help, and I figured he owes me. So do you, for that matter. So do you know how to reach him?” 

“No, but… I have a way of looking for him.”, Xavier sighed.

“Do you think that’s wise, Professor?”

“No, but Peter is right, we DO owe him. Peter, maybe you could tell us what this is about?”

“My sister was kidnapped.”

“What?! When?”

“About an hour ago.”

“And you think Erik can help you?”, McCoy frowned.

“Well, they stormed our house, shot my sister and carried her out. My Mom is dead. So, like, no offense, but I could use the help of someone a bit more… badass.”

More blinking. This time by both men.

“Peter, I am so sorry for…”

“Thanks and all that, Professor. Is it Professor now? You didn’t look like one, when we met. And what are you a Professor of? Because it looks like you are a teacher, not a Professor. Maybe a headmaster. Principal. But Professor?”

“Genetics.”

“Cool.”

“Peter…”, McCoy tried again, “Erik isn’t the most reliable person out there.”

“You don’t think he’ll help me?”, the idea settled itself heavily in Peter’s stomach. Maybe even if he found the man, he wouldn’t help. Maybe… maybe he wouldn’t want to know about Peter and Wanda. Ever since he had found out, Peter had envisioned what it would be like to finally meet his father. To maybe get a Dad. Someone that understood and cared and loved him and… but maybe that wasn’t who Erik Lehnsherr was? Maybe that was why his Mom didn’t want him around? She had called him dangerous, after all. But dangerous… that was a meaningless label. Everyone could be dangerous. Wanda… Wanda was dangerous. 

“I am sure he will help you.”, Xavier told him with such finality, that Peter instantly felt better, “Erik’s ideas and ours…”, he gave McCoy a meaningful glance, “don’t always align. But I am convinced that he would help a young mutant in need. Especially since you did break him out of prison.”

“You think he’d try to turn me evil or something? Like… you think I’ll become a mutant terrorist?”

“He is a very charismatic man, who can be very convincing.”

“Cool. But… you know… That’s why I want his help. Someone took my sister. I need someone willing to help me get her back.”

Xavier sighed, then nodded at McCoy, who opened the door for the three of them.

“Then follow me, please. We can try to look for your sister, too. But I can’t promise much, since I have never met her. What’s her name?”

Peter fell in step next to the Professor, as they made their way down the corridor.

“Wanda, her name is Wanda.”

“Does she have powers, too?”

“Yes.”

“And of what kind?”. McCoy asked, sounding excited about the idea. Peter hadn’t forgotten the man calling him fascinating before.

“I don’t really know.”

“Pardon?”, they stopped in front of a well-hidden elevator.

“Her powers are weird, okay? I don’t know what to call them. Weird. Yeah. She can shoot bad luck from her hands. If it hits you, bad stuff happens. And when she wants things, they become real.”

“I’m sorry, I… I don’t think I understand.”, Xavier stared at him, as the door closed.

“Bad luck, you know. And reality.”

“We heard you, Peter, we have just never… heard about anything like that.”, McCoy tried, “The mutant powers that we know of all have some basis in the physical world. What you are describing…”

They reached another corridor. More walking.

“One day, when we were 14, Wanda and our Mom had a big fight. Huge. About her powers. How people were noticing. Scared. Mom told her she needed to control them. She was too old to run around unchecked. The next morning, Wanda woke up and was a little kid.”

Both McCoy and Xavier stopped to stare at him.

“She’s a shapeshifter?”, McCoy clarified.

“No. I still remembered her as my twin. Everyone around us, our mom, neighbors, teachers… They were all convinced she was five years old. There were pictures. And the pictures that had her in it before, were different. It was like she had always been that age.”

“That is the most… insane thing I have ever heard.”, Xavier exclaimed, his careful Professor mask slipping.

“She was like that for over two years. Then we saw you guys on TV. And him. No more hiding, he said. And the next morning, she was my twin again. Just like that . She ran away shortly after.”

Did you lock him away, too?

“I haven’t seen her since.”

“And today… you were there?”, Xavier asked carefully.

“No.”

“Then how do you know what happened?”, McCoy asked again, looking like he was trying to see right through Peter.

“I just do.”

In front of them a round metal door slit to its side to reveal a huge, round room with the WEIRDEST footpath thingy Peter had ever seen. He left both men to make their way over, as he ran ahead to look at every detail he could make out. Every leaver, button, light. 

What even was this? Had the Professor ever even told him what his powers were?

“Okay, Peter. We’ll try your sister first, yes? Her powers are very…strange, but I’ll try.”

Xavier placed the helmet on his head, as McCoy pressed some buttons and suddenly there was light all around them blue dots. Red dots. Voices.

In the midst of all of it, Peter could even see the cluster of red dots that would be the school. This was so damn cool.

“Where are you, Wanda?”, the Professor murmured, pulling up face after face, but none of them was Wanda, “They can't have gotten that far from your house.”

Still, it didn't seem to be working.

The man tried for a full five minutes, before he looked at Peter and shook his head: “They might be blocking her somehow. I am so sorry, my boy.”

He sounded so remorseful and sad and Peter was so… exhausted. He almost wanted to just stay here. In this school. With this kind and understanding man… 

Wanda. He needed to find Wanda first. Then… they’d be together. They’d find a place.

“Erik on the other hand, is right there.”, Xavier pointed to the bright red figure of a man, who seemed to be sitting on a couch.

“Where is that?”, McCoy asked.

The image zoomed out.

“Malheur National Forest.”

Both men stared at Peter.

“I’m good with geography, navigation etc. And I was IN Oregon today. Eating pears. I must have run right past him.” That was an unsettling thought. His hunger for pears. Oregon. That… vision thing.

“What a strange coincidence.”, Xavier said in a way that made it VERY clear, he didn't believe in coincidences one bit.

Peter looked at the dot again. There was another dot right next to it. He could do it in an hour. 

Just stay put, he told the red light, stay there and please, please, please like me.

“Okay. Thanks, guys!”

“Peter!”, the Professor called one last time, but Peter didn't want to wait. He left the mansion in the same way he had entered: with no time left to lose.

--------------------------------------

Ulvheim, Oregon August 30, 1974

Peter had always been able to navigate perfectly. Any speed, terrain, weather… it didn’t matter. Peter knew where he was and more importantly where he was going. Ever since he had found out about his father’s powers, he wondered if it had anything to do with the Earth’s magnetic field… but however he did it, it worked. And that was the most important part. 

He reached the spot he had memorized in about 90 minutes. Damn, maybe he was a little tired, after all. Or that vision thing had zapped his power. 

Or you’re still in shock, a quiet voice in the back of his mind told him.

Shut up. Maybe not the best response, but it worked.

When Peter came to a halt, he was standing next to a beautiful lake, mountains and several horses. And a pony. Chicken and… Geese. Yes, there were Geese. A little closer to the shore, he could see several outbuildings and  a big, old farmhouse, with two stories, a wrap-around porch and… a dog. Possibly the biggest dog he had ever seen. That thing was ginormous and jet-black. Was that even a dog?!
It lay next to the front door, so even if Peter ran past it, he would have to stop to knock. Yeah… no. The giant thing moved its head and looked straight at him, not making a single sound.

Okay. No. Really no. He loved Wanda and all that, but was she worth this?

He moved to the right, to try and get out of the thing’s line of sight, and walked right into the ten or so geese. One of them raised its neck and made the most unholy noise Peter had ever heard. 

“What the… stop it!”, he hissed at the goose. The damn goose hissed right back. Now the other birds decided to join in, making enough noise to wake the damn dead. 

Peter wooshed over as close to the lake as possible, as the leader goose moved to possibly attack him. The stupid dog was still staring at him.

Too late. The front-door opened. Then the porch door. Erik Lehnsherr was standing there, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, a mug in hand, like he had no care in the world.

“Cerberus!”, he called towards the loudest goose, “What is it?”

His voice was… so much kinder than Peter had expected. He sounded almost loving, like he was telling the goose it did a good job.

“You have guard geese?!”, Peter yelled towards the house, before he could stop himself.

Erik’s head snapped to the side in alarm, but his face markedly relaxed, when he recognized Peter.

“Of course, who doesn’t? Peter, right? What are you doing back there?”

“Hiding from Cerberus.”

“Did she try to attack you?”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you very fast?”

“That’s why I’m over here now.”

“Then why don’t you come here? The porch will protect you.”, there was so much teasing mirth in his voice, Peter was tempted to be offended.

“Because that’s where your wolf is.”

“Fenrir won’t harm you. That’s what the geese are for.”

Great. Just great. Now he knew where Wanda got her attitude from. 

Not just Wanda, that annoying voice said again.

“Alright then, Peter. I’ll hold the door open for you, and you can run right into the kitchen.”, Erik offered, but Peter decided that a. he was a grown-up and b. he didn’t want to look like a wimp in front of the man, so he held his head high and slowly and deliberately walked towards the porch and up the three steps to get there.

“Hello, Peter. It’s nice to see you again.”, Erik told him calmly and offered him his hand.

“Likewise.”, Peter shook it, as Erik held the door open and waved him right through the front door and into a small foyer.

“Right through the door to your right, please.”

Peter opened one of the three doors and walked into a big, warm kitchen full of wood, drying herbs and the most delicious smell he had ever come across. There was a dining table, too. With two people sitting at it, both looking at him expectantly. Great. He walked through and Erik walked past him, finally putting his mug back down on the table.

“Peter, this is Ida.”, he vaguely gestured towards a brunette sitting across the table. Peter tried to read her as fast as possible, her kind smile, bright green eyes. She looked tall. Her age was hard to guess, but she looked kind, he thought. With laugh lines around her eyes. A girlfriend? This was getting even more complicated now… then his gaze moved to the figure next to her. A girl, maybe twelve or 13, with hair the same color as Ida’s. And she looked like Wanda. Oh, God. That… she looked like his sister. She looked more like Wanda than he did, and they were twins, damn it.

“And this is our daughter, Lorna. Guys, this is Peter.”, Erik finished his introduction. Peter was still staring at Lorna like a fish.

"Prison Break Peter?”, Lorna asked, taking his measure.

“Just the one.”

Ida got up. And yes, she really was pretty tall. She looked as tall as Erik. She walked over and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Peter. Come have a seat, I’ll get you a setting, yes? Would you like coffee or tea?”, she let him over towards the table and almost pressed him into the seat next to where Erik was standing. And sitting opposite his little sister. Peter carefully placed his duffle bag next to him on the floor.

“Or hot cocoa.”, Lorna offered, “There is some left on the stove.”

“You are sharing your hot cocoa?”, Erik asked, sounding incredulous.

“He broke you out of prison and his powers are cool.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hot cocoa sounds nice, if it’s not too much.”

“It’s not.”, Erik moved past Ida to a cupboard and proceeded to reach for the pot on the stove, as Ida put a plate and small fork in front of him and sat back-down. 

“Do you like Donauwelle?”, she pushed a plate full of pieces of cake in his direction, “Lorna and Eric made it this morning.”

“Donauwelle?”, he tried to pronounce the strange word, “Never heard of it.”

Erik finally placed his own mug next to his plate and sat down next to him, reaching for his own fork.

“It’s a German cake. It was…”, he paused thoughtfully, as if weighing his words, “My mother’s favorite.”

“And I get to learn how to make it.”, Lorna told him, her face very serious, “So I don’t forget.”

“My Mom’s from Germany, but she never really made stuff from there.”

“Germany wasn’t especially kind to many of its people for a long time. Everyone deals differently with that.”, Ida smiled at him, and Peter saw the way she reached over the table to squeeze Erik’s hand.

“I guess so. She never talked much about it.”, and with that he reached for a piece to try his grandmother’s (admittedly delicious) favorite cake. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, just enjoying their meal… and Peter was freaking out. This was not what he had expected to walk into. No one had even asked him why he was there! Should he just come out with it? Over cake?! In-front of Lorna?

No. No way. Yes? No? What should he even say? He hadn’t stopped all day to consider that? What… what did he do now?

“You look freaked out.”, Lorna told him boldly.

“Tough day.”

“Lorna, don’t be rude to our guest, please.”, Ida chided good-naturedly. 

“I’m not rude. He looks ready to keel over.”

“That is rude.”

“My mom died today.”, Peter blurted out and the whole table froze. Erik had a fork full of cake stuck right in-front of his face, “I think my sister accidentally killed her. And then she was shot and kidnapped. I think by the government. I thought she ran away last year, but now I think my mother had her locked away. Because of her powers. Maybe she escaped and they came for her? I saw it in a vision. That has never happened to me before. I need to find her, but I don’t know how. So I came here. Can you help me?”

No one spoke.

“Xavier used his thingy to look for her, but it didn’t work. So I asked him to find you. I hoped you’d help. So today I ran to Oregon for pears, then back to DC. Then to Westchester and then back to Oregon. I don’t know what to do.”

His voice, Peter realized, had gone wobbly at the end. All he could see was Lorna’s wide-eyed, terrified gaze.

“Lorna, if you are done with your cake, please put your things in the sink, then go outside and lock up the animals for the night.”, Ida calmly said into the silence.

“But…”

“And when you are done with that, you can go upstairs and take fresh linens out of the cupboard and make up the guest-room for Peter.”

“Fine.”, Lorna got up, put her things away, then walked past Peter towards the door, turned and said “I’m sorry about your mom.”, before walking out.

Again. Silence.

“Peter, I’m really sorry about your Mom. We’ll help you look for your sister. I… haven’t been active in over a decade, but I still have contacts out there. We’ll look.”, Erik told him carefully, “I was a bit surprised to see you. Or that Charles would send you here, but I promise you, we won’t turn you away.”

It was like a weight had dropped off Peter’s shoulders. Help. A bed to sleep in. He wasn’t alone in the world. 

“There are some things I might be able to do…”, Ida spoke carefully, like he was a skittish animal, “Magic. There is a spell I have for looking for relatives. It’s tricky, if I only have a brother, but it should give us an area to start at least.”

“Would it be easier with more relatives? Father? Sister?”

“Massively, but…”

Erik’s back went rigid and Peter realized that this time, maybe… the man had clocked him. He turned around, staring at him with wide, unreadable eyes.

“When we met, you told me, your mother once knew a guy that could control metal. And she was from Germany, yes. What was her name, Peter?”

“I feel like you already know the answer…”, Peter tried, nervously taking a sip from his (not so hot) cocoa.

“Tell me, Peter.”

“Magda, okay? Her name was Magda Maximoff.”

Peter had expected some reaction. Anything. Metal flying. Windows shaking. Yelling. Instead, Erik just… looked at him. Frozen. And Peter was horrified to see a single tear run down his cheek.

“Okay, this… you know… maybe I shouldn’t have come here. I…”

He got up, ready to run again. Anywhere. It didn’t matter, just away.

Before he could reach the door, a vibrant green light flew past his head and blocked the door, stopping Peter in his tracks.

Ida was on her feet, her hand outstretched, and obviously the source of his new obstacle. Magic, she had said. Was that what Wanda did, too?

“Peter…”, she started, but in one swift motion, Erik was on his feet, walked over and pulled Peter into the biggest hug he had ever possibly gotten. He froze, shocked for a second, before he just closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest his face on his father’s strong shoulder. They stood like that, and at some point Peter realized that his face was wet. Was he crying? Yes. Yes, he was. His father kept muttering things in his ear, rubbing his back and holding on tightly, but he didn’t understand a thing. Minutes later, he took a careful step back to look at the man whose world he had just thoroughly shaken. Erik, too, was crying, Peter realized. But there was a smile on his face and he was looking at Peter like… like he was the best thing he had ever seen.

His father wasn’t mad. Disappointed. Thought him too annoying. Everything Peter had been afraid of since he was a little, hyperactive kid… and he’d been wrong.

“Thank you for finding me, Peter.”

“You’re not… mad?”

“No. Never.”

“Not even at mom?”, he hated himself for how tiny his voice sounded and Erik flinched, as if Peter had struck him.

“No. I… I loved your mother a great deal. I’m sorry she is no longer a part of this world. Did… did she tell you what happened?” 

“No. Never. She didn’t like to talk about her life before…”

Erik nodded heavily.

“Come on, let’s go to the living room. I… I need to sit. And not on one of those chairs.”

Together they walked through another door into a living room and Erik offered him a seat on a comfy looking couch, before sitting down next to him, patting his shoulder, as if to reassure himself that Peter was still there. Still real.

“Did you know? At the Pentagon?”

“No. Wanda got it out of her after we saw you on TV.”

“Wanda. Your sister. I have… I have another daughter.”, his voice sounded so incredulous, wondrous.

“Was it hard, like… being in prison for so long and knowing Lorna was out there?”, the question was out before Peter could stop himself.

“I didn’t know. After you freed me, I needed to disappear. All my old contacts were gone. I looked for the woman that used to help me. She was good at smuggling me across borders, back in the late 50s and early 60s. And I found out both her and her husband died in a plane crash. It’s a strange thing. I thought about just leaving it there. Find someone else to help me. Move on. But I had this nagging feeling that I should look more. Find out what happened. And there she was: Lorna. She was on board and somehow survived unharmed. No one knew why. I saw her birthdate, did the math… then I tracked down the foster mother that had taken Lorna in. And here we are.”

“Ida was that foster mom?”

“She was, yes. She knew who I was. Had seen me on TV. I explained who I was. She was… skeptical at first. I stayed in the area. Then I moved into the guest bedroom. And then into the master bedroom.”

Well, that was one way of explaining it.

“I was very lucky.”, Erik declared, “And I am very lucky again, that you have found me. I will have to thank Charles, too. I guess. Does he know?”

“I didn’t tell him.”, Peter shrugged.

“He can read minds.”

“Oh, so THAT’s his power! Cool! I did wonder what he meant about being in your head back in DC, but then nothing happened, so I kinda forgot.”

“He might not have been able to. You are very fast… If your thoughts are, too…”

“Would it be bad, if he knew?”, Peter had the sudden fear of his father being ashamed of him.

“The less people know, the easier I can keep you safe.”

He wanted to angrily tell the man that he didn’t need anyone to keep him safe… but someone had kidnapped his sister, so what was he supposed to do?

“Where’d Ida go?”

“To help Lorna with your room.”

“Will she be okay with me being here? I mean…”

“I’m pretty sure she already likes you more than she does me.”

The door to the foyer opened with a bang, revealing Lorna and Fenrir.

“So you’re my brother then?”

“Ehm, yes?”, Peter carefully eyed the abomination, that plonked himself down right next to his feet.

“Cool. And I have another sister?” 

“Wanda, yes. She’s my twin.”

“That’s cool. What’s she like?”

“She’s great. She’s… she looks a lot like you. Just, you know, more ginger.”

“So like Dad then.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wait.”, Peter jumped over Fenrir and ran to the kitchen, where he found Ida doing the dishes. She smiled at him when he became visible to her, but didn’t say anything. Peter wondered if she was just as unsure as he was.

“My bag,”, he started, “I put it on the floor.”

“Oh sorry! I took it upstairs to your room earlier, when I swept the floor. I bake when I’m nervous. But we already had cake. So I cleaned.”

“Cool.”

“I’ll go and get it.”

“I can do it…”

“Oh no, no, I do it. You just… sit back down, okay? I’m sure you’re tired.”

Well yeah, he was, but this was still awkward. Ida vanished through the door and Peter went back to his seat, finally offering his hand to Fenrir to sniff, who completely ignored him. Asshole.

“So, I’m still waiting.”, Lorna told him snidely from a giant armchair to his left.

“What?”

“You told me to wait, then left. And came back. And I’m still waiting.”

“Lorna.”, Erik chided.

“What? I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No. But still rude.”, Ida declared and walked in, carefully handing Peter his back and sitting down on the armrest next to Erik, who immediately reached out to absentmindedly stroke her back.

Peter reached into the bag, almost reverently pulled out the picture of him and Wanda and leaned forward to hand it to Lorna.

“I know you can’t really see the red hair in black and white, but… that’s the last picture I have of her.”

Lorna looked at it with big eyes, “We really kinda look alike. Look, Dad, Mom’s right: I DO look like you. And so does Wanda.” 

Erik and Ida both got up and looked over Lorna’s shoulder, a soft smile spreading over his father’s face.

“I think you guys look like my father, actually. Maybe my grandmother.”

“Dad? Can I show Peter around?”

“Peter has had a long day, Lorna. In an hour, we’ll have dinner and…”

“Oh pleaaaaaaase!”

“I am not that tired!”, Peter hurried. He was, actually. But he also wanted to get some fresh air.

“If you are sure, then yes, of course.”

“Cool, come on!”, Lorna excitedly grabbed his hand and pulled him along, with Fenrir following behind. Of course.

Lorna dragged him all over the small homestead. They visited the five horses, one pony, 13 geese (yikes), 6 chicken, three rabbits, hay, a tractor… 

“And this is where we store the pears, before Dad brings them into town.”

“I’m sorry, did you say pears?”

“Yeah, we have an orchard out back. Not a lot, but it makes money and stuff.”

Pears. His father was growing pears. In Oregon. What.The.Hell.