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yikes, maybe i'll be by later

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The coordinates lead Peter to some house in the middle of Poland. He’d been expecting some kind of chrome, purple, uninhabitable fuck-you-humans place, not the cabin-like house that was clearly being lived in by several people.

He also didn’t expect to see the local authorities pointing weapons at a little girl - must be Erik’s daughter, the Prof said something about that, didn’t he? - and her mom - Erik’s wife, oh my god , Peter’s stepmom - and having Erik held by the wrists.

The birds are also a surprise, but not as surprising as Peter’s Dad, half-sister and stepmom (!!! what the fuuuuuuuuck ) being - well, it looks like they’re being - detained.

He kinda wants to think yikes, maybe I’ll tell Erik some other time .

But then one of the policemen lose hold on an arrow - if it would even be called that - in super slow mo. He can see it’s headed straight for the duo.

Well. He couldn’t have that. (Plus, he came all this way. Coming here and not saying anything? - fuck that.)

It’s easy enough to grab the arrow, break it in half, and lay the pieces on opposite sides of the clearing. It was also easy to grab each person (coppers not included) to a different clearing a good five miles away from the house and the police.

Time goes back to normal - ha, try slower than a snail - and immediately, the little girl and his new stepmom start getting sick. Erik just doubles over, clearly dizzy.

“You’ll be fine, this happens to everyone,” he says like he always does, a tad bit smug, a lot impatient, and then realizes, he has no idea if the girls could even speak English. And hell, Erik has been in Poland since Fuck-You-Humans-Especially-You-Mr.-President went down. Who or what’s to say he even remembers English himself?

Erik is the first to revive himself, standing up on shaky legs while Peter’s thoughts go down the winding path of tangents. He gives Peter a long look that makes him totally get why Hank hates his guts and understand why he always gets cussed out when he tries to say either of his sisters or his nephews were anything like Papa Magnet here - anyway, the look says murder, the face says bunnies. What the hell is he supposed to take that as?

Before he can go into any deeper thoughts on it - like, could Erik murder him with a bunny? Does that mean the bunny will be doing the murdering? WAIT, the little girl (or the mom? Shut up , brain) was making those birds pissy, maybe he could just get her to kill him - shit, focus , Erik flatly states, “Peter.”

Annnnnnd, because he has absolutely no brain to mouth filter (or really any filter at all), Peter responds, “heeeeey, old man, long time no rescue, amirite? Except - wait, when I got you out of the Pentagon, that wasn’t really a rescue, that was a prison break, buuuuuuuuut, that wasn’t your typical prison, I would know, my Uncle is doing time for manslaughter and hate crimes against mutants - You know what, it doesn’t matter. I came here to talk to you, but you were in that sitch with those cops and - “

“Peter,” Erik groans, holding up a hand like that’ll make Peter stop. Pffft. “Shush for a moment. I’ll be right back.” And then, on still shaky legs, he moves over to his family, helps the girls hold back their hair and makes sure the little girl doesn’t collapse in a puddle of her own puke. Peter can’t help but wince; usually, the reaction isn’t nearly this bad. (The worse reaction by far had been Scott’s, since his glasses flew off, and then he and Peter ran head on into the plasma, and then the younger mutant collapsed and nearly beamed Peter up to heaven, Scotty.)

Also , his brain supplies, that nosy bitch, that right there is Erik being a dad and husband. To his real family . And then, because fucking tangents, he probably doesn’t want you - look at him, he’s already got a child, why would he -

“Okay, Peter,” Erik starts. He walks more surely over to the speedster, apparently assured that the girls would be fine. His half-sister has stopped puking, at least, and is getting a full on hug from her mom. When he’s close enough, he lays his huge hands on Peter’s shoulders, says nothing, and just nods. Peter wants to drag this out, wants to force him to say it, but then, the look in Erik’s eyes - now definitely not murder, all feels and cries - stops him.

Peter just nods back, knowing to appreciate the gesture. The Professor had told him a lot of stories in the brief time he’d been at the mansion, explaining that hey, the Number One Mutant Terrorist is My Pops, My Daddio, The Guy Who Shipped Me To My Mother’s -

ANYWAY, he’d said that Erik didn’t apologize, thank or pity without putting effort into it - enough effort to pull out a tooth that isn’t loose, or lifting a stadium and then almost killing the Presi--

Goddamn you, brain , Peter thinks for the millionth, billionth time.

“So, uh, what’re their names?” He asks, changing the subject. He hates talking about his feelings, thinking about his feelings, and expressing his feelings, and well, he had to get that from somewhere, right?

Erik doesn’t blink at the question, seeing it for what it is. “My wife’s name is Carolina, and my daughter’s name is Nina.” He pauses for a moment, watches Peter try out the names, and then cautiously asks, “who sent you?”

The question stops the litany of Nina, Nina, bo-bina, fo-fina. Eloquently, like always, he returns, “huh? Sent me? Dude, did I not just say I had something to talk to you about - “

“So you weren’t sent here? Charles doesn’t need my help?”

“Uh, I mean, he gave me your coordinates, said this was important enough, whatever that means, but that’s not what you’re asking, ugh, NO, he’s fine. He doesn’t need any help from the giant magnet man.”

Erik’s nose wrinkles up at the nickname.

“But this thing I gotta tell you - “

“Papa!”

Erik turns around to tend to Nina, both speaking in rapid Polish, and Peter thinks, fine then, keep distracting him, universe. One of these times will be the perfect opportunity and then I won’t have any courage left to say anything, you asshole -

A gentle cough brings him out of his thoughts. Carolina is there, staring at him. Not knowing what to do, and suddenly hit by the thought that this is who is dad chose over Peter’s birth mom (which, yeah, he gets it, Magda died right after childbirth, where she had kids Erik didn’t even know about , but still. Bitterness is an old friend), he waves and gives a cheeky grin. Fake it until you make it, baby.

In accented English, she says, “you saved us.”

Peter doesn’t think before he shrugs and nods. Then, it dawns on him that that was a compliment, and he starts thinking about how he could deny it when she interrupts again.

“Thank you.” She leans closer, and drops her voice when she says, “he told me that you got him out of the American prison. Thank you for that, too.”

His mouth drops open, a blush on his cheeks - and dammit, he doesn’t blush, he’s the freaking Quicksilver - Erik turns around halfway, and says, “take the compliment, kid.”

Peter waves a hand, not denying or accepting. His adopted siblings hate when he does that, but what is he supposed to say? ‘Oh, no problem, I wouldn’t go break out just any psycho murders’? Or would ‘don’t thank me, I only did it because I was bored’ sound better?

Both adults - he says as if he isn’t also an adult - give him a knowing look, and he backs up a few steps, totally not interested in getting lectured.

Erik seems to get it, and he pulls Carolina over to where Nina is. They speak Polish again, and Peter doesn’t understand one single lick of it, expect when they say “Peter” and “Magneto”.

He hazards, “uh, you’re not, like, saying anything bad about me, right?”

Erik turns his whole body around just so Peter can see him roll his eyes. “No, we’re explaining that you are a mutant like she and I are, and that you’ve helped me before, so you’re a friend. We want her to make sure she doesn’t send any animals after you.”

Peter pales considerably. “Shit, she can do that? I mean, like, with a tiger or a lion? Am I gonna get mauled by a - “

“No, Peter, you won’t be. The only animals you’d have to worry about here are the reindeer she’s so fond of.”

“Great, that’s great. Man, for a second there, I thought she’d pull some kind of Wanda shit, and say she wouldn’t hurt me, and then I’d end up in an alternate dimension, or something.”

Erik gives him a blank look, and it takes a long, long half-second for Peter to realize that Erik and Wanda haven’t met.

“Who’s Wanda?”

“Ummmmm, my twin sister. She has these bitchin’ powers, like, she is in the top three most powerful mutants ever, along with you and the Professor. I’m serious, when we met for the first time, I pissed her off so badly, she sent me to a alternate universe! I mean, it was awesome, but shit , man - “

“You didn’t grow up together?” Erik’s face makes this confused little… motion thing (oh fuck you, brain, what a great time to not know any basic vocabulary) that Peter sees his sisters do all the time when he speaks too fast, too loud and too tangent-y for them to keep up.

Peter shifts on his feet. When he finally gets the balls to tell Erik (as well as the opportunity to even do it, uninterrupted), he’ll have to know about Wanda and Lorna, and what the sitch is with them all. So, he shakes his head. “Nah, our mom died pretty much right after she named me and Wanda, and we both were lucky enough to get adopted out to America. My real name is Pietro. We got in contact somehow when we were teens, I don’t remember how anymore. I think it was after you pulled that sentinel shit, and our parents hooked us up ‘cause we were both mutants in a bad time to be mutants? I dunno, man, time is a slippery bitch that I can’t - “

“So your adoptive parents knew you had a twin and did nothing about it until you were teenagers?” Erik sounds skeptical.

“Wanda had a shitty childhood, okay? She has two older sisters who saw her as some Roma trash that their parents - their biological parents - shouldn’t have picked up. My parents tried to make contact and those witches put the kibosh on it. When we first met, Wanda told me all about it, and then when Lorna - “ Fuck .

“Wait, wait, which one is Lorna? One of the older sisters?”

Fucking fuck.

“Nah, she’s my other sister. Same dad, different mom.”

“How did you even get in contact with your father? You said your mother was Roma, so it’s not a far cry that he is, as well. Do you speak Belarusian, Romanian, et cetera?”

Carolina and Nina take that moment to cut in, thank god. It would’ve been awkward as hell to say, ‘actually, I’m talking to him right now’.

From what he can glean in the half-Polish, half-English conversation - and code switching, man. Too cool - Carolina wants to get Nina away from the woods, because while he wasn’t noticing, the forest creatures had started reacting weirdly to her mood. She’s still, understandably, scared, and it would be best to get her away from the woods.

Peter, who lacks any kind of manners, social cues, or otherwise, butts in. “I could get us to, like, Paris really fast. Oh wait….”

Erik and Peter wince.  Carolina tells him, “no more super speed travel for Nina and I, but thank you.”

He nods awkwardly, wishing he could go talk to his sisters, or his adoptive siblings. Or hell, even Raven, the girl who made fun of him, his dad and his hair all in one breath, would be nice to talk to. He’d been given a rundown on what to say and how to say it, but that all went out the window when faced with Erik’s other family. They’d all decided that Lorna looks most like Erik, but when the girls see Nina, they’ll change their minds. His insecurities aren’t even the problem here -

Erik cuts into his thoughts to tell him that they’re going to Warsaw, and he should come. Erik says that while giving the headphones around his neck a squeeze, and holy shit , yeah he’ll go, leave the headphones alone.

Carolina suggests he find a car they could borrow - and damn, she is not nearly as goody-two-shoes as she seems - so he runs ahead, and brings a car back at break-neck speeds. Erik makes him sit in the back so he won’t try to drive and/or “mess with the wheel” from the passenger seat.

Nina, it turns out, speaks some English. They talk about their mutations, and the whole time, Peter’s thinking, what if she doesn’t want a brother ?

 


 

 

“This was a horrible idea.”

“I know, Lorna, thank you. It’s not like I could’ve stopped him, anyway. You know how he is.”

“Yeah, ADHD up the ass.”

“Mom, Aunt Lorna said a bad word!”

“She said ass!”

“Thomas Shepherd, you - “

He speeds off, and crashes into the wall like Peter has done several times. That’s not what either woman is worried about, though.

“Shit! Oh my god, that’s priceless. Peter’s gonna freeee-eaaak. The only other white-haired boy under sixty in the whole world, and he’s just like his Uncle Peter.”

“Aunt Lorna said another bad word, Mom!”

“Tommy, are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah…. That was BANGIN’!”

 


 

It’s a long ass drive to Warsaw. Peter tries his level best to not think, and not move every single one of his digits, but hey, he’s bored. He can’t entertain himself with a thing Lorna’s made, he can’t talk to himself…. He’s just bored.

Nina fell asleep after he started talking about his nephews, since she couldn’t understand most of what he was saying. He doesn’t have her to bother, and he’s not touching the whole “you’re my dad” thing with a ten foot pole.

Except, the universe is an asshole.

“So, Peter, what did you need to talk to me about?” As soon as Erik says it, Carolina perks up, like she’s interested. He can see what’ll happen: ‘hey, I’m your kid.’ ‘Ew, get him outta here, you already have a kid.’ ‘Sure, wifey. Peter, leave.’

Yeah, no thanks.

“It can wait a little longer, man.”

“No, now is your best chance, unless you want to wait. When we get to Warsaw, we won’t have time to talk.” He pauses, and no one speaks. “I will admit that I am… curious as to what caused you to come all the way from Washington D.C.” Peter just shuts the hell up, a new for him. Erik gets fed up with Peter about five seconds after, but waits an impressive twelve minutes before snapping, “Peter, just tell me. I thought you were supposed to be the annoyingly loud one.”

And what Peter does next, kiddos - never, ever do it while in a car. “Ha-ha, yeah, well, you’re my dad. That’s what got me here. Well, that and the girls were all like, ‘you’ve met him, so you have to do it!’ and I said, ‘yeah, I met him, once, right before he went on his fuck-you-humans rampage!’ but did they care? Nooooooo, so here we are.”

And what Erik does next, anyone over fifteen years of age - well, never, ever do it in a car. He jerks the wheel, and rights the vehicle with his mind right before they hit some semi with vaguely Scandinavian words all over it. He firmly plants the car on the nearest side road, and twists to look directly at Peter, who, dammit, is sitting behind Carolina, which happens to be a prime magneto-stare spot.

“Your mother’s name. What was - “

“Magda. Magda Eisen-- well, she told the lady that her name was Magda Eisenhardt, but she had our last names be Lehnsherr, which is a hugely obvious thing, in my opinion - “

“Erik? Is Peter really your son?”

Erik silently nods, not taking his eyes off Peter, no matter how bad the speedster wants him to. “You said - you said you have a half-sister, Lorna.”

Oh boy. “Yeah, Lorna Dane. Her mom and stepdad died when she was three, and she got adopted pretty soon after that, so now her name is Lorna Chase, but she was born Lorna Dane. She said her mom’s name was Susanna Dane. Ring any bells?”

Carolina, looking positively shell shocked, gazes at Erik, then at Peter, then back to Erik.

The metal bender nods silently again.

“So, I--I have three children I never knew about.”

“Yeah.” A thought occurs to him, and hastily, he adds, “and two grandchildren. The nephews I was talking about came from Wanda.”

Erik turns and faces the wheel, obviously distraught.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. I know, right? God, this is probably worse for you than it was for me and the girls. I mean, I think Lorna knew more than she lets on, but for me and Wanda? We had no idea. We found out based on our birth records, and then we realized our dad is a terrorist, and -  and uh, I mean, you just found out you have grandsons, that come from one of the three kids you didn’t know you had. Seems like it’s worse for you….”

Erik doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at Carolina who waves her hand in front of his face.

“Um, I know this is probably not what you wanted, I mean, I’m kinda a fuck up, I’ve actually been to prison before. Well, juvie, but still, there’s something we can bond ov--”

“Peter.”

He shuts up again, cursing his brain and his non-existent impulse control.

“Peter,” Erik says again, but this time, his voice is followed by a hand landing on his shoulder. “We - “ he and Carolina share a look. “We were going to get a hotel room in Warsaw, but…. Maybe we could go to D.C. instead.” He drops his voice, like that’ll stop Carolina from hearing him, and adds, “I could never think less of you for dealing with your mutation badly. You should know that, at least, after everything I’ve done.”

Peter grins goofily. He’s twenty-eight years old, and here he is, getting praise from the guy from which he came, and acting like a kid. “Yeah? Well, the girls will need to hear that, too. Wanda accidentally killed someone when she first got hers, and Lorna realized you were her dad when you lifted the stadium, and she’s got a terrible reputation in Canada, now.”

Erik, briefly, looks terribly overwhelmed. With a sigh, he says, “we have to get back on the road, so we can see when the flights are coming. That gives us time to talk about your sisters and nephews, though. What’d Lorna do in Canada that’s so bad?”

“Oh, man, you have no freaking idea what Lorna’s done.”