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Scott should’ve stayed in bed.
Actually, he shouldn’t have set his alarm at all. Should’ve just slept through the disaster that was breakfast that morning.
Sure, there were lots of breakfasts that were disasters. Every day with this team was hard to manage. But for some reason, today when Scott woke up, the world chose violence. Or, rather, a silver-haired twenty-year-old who had too much energy decided to make it everyone’s problem.
—
That morning when he walked out into the kitchen at 6:45, Peter Maximoff was already there.
Scott looked around, took in the situation, and asked, “Peter?”
“Yeah?” Peter replied without looking up.
“Why are there forty-seven waffles on the table?”
“Why are you counting?”
Scott sighed and put his hands in his pockets, watching Peter as he proceeded to pour more waffle batter into the waffle maker. His eyes were wide, and Scott knew that Peter was paying more attention to him than he let on. He cleared his throat.
“There are only a few of us who actually live here,” he murmured. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” Peter responded.
“Yeah? Okay, so, I’m gonna have to ask you to unplug the waffle maker.”
Peter didn’t say anything to that. He just focused on making more waffles. Whenever he looked up again and saw Scott staring at him expectantly, he tilted his head. “What’d you say?”
“I—nothing.” And then Scott Summers decided to go back to bed.
—
Later that morning, Logan walked into the kitchen. Peter was sitting at the table, tapping his foot and literally vibrating with energy. Logan took one look at him and knew all hope was lost.
“Kid?”
Peter’s head whipped around so fast Logan was worried it would snap clean off. “Yeah?”
Logan opened his mouth, took in Peter’s wild eyes and ruffled hair, and then closed it again. “Uh…” he began, not sure what to say. “You…okay?”
“What? Yeah. Why?” He blurted out, faster than should be humanly possible. But hey, that’s Quicksilver for you.
“No reason,” Logan answered slowly, trying to calm Peter down by lowering his voice. “Just…wondering why you’re at breakfast so early.”
“What’d you mean? I’m always this early.” At that, Peter picked up a dry waffle and took a bite. He’d somehow managed to start talking faster.
“Um, okay…” Logan’s voice trailed off, uncertain. “If you don’t have anything else to say, I’m gonna—“
“Blue tastes like Tuesday.”
Logan froze, just staring at Peter for a minute. Then the reality of what he said set in. “What?”
“Blue tastes like Tuesday.”
With a sigh, Logan just turned and left the room. “I’m too old for this…” he muttered.
—
The third person to enter the kitchen was Jean Grey. She was putting her red hair in a messy bun when she stopped in the middle of the room. Peter saw her, his eyes flicking toward the hallway before he even knew she was about to show up. Something about “Maximoff sees all.” His words.
She took one look at Peter and said, “Nope.”
He tilted his head. “No? No what?”
“No to…whatever’s going on here.”
“What’s goin—oh, hey, I made waffles! You want a waffle?”
The absolute joy in Peter’s eyes when he glanced down and saw a stack of waffles plated on the table was funny to watch. It’s like he’d forgotten why he was sitting in the kitchen in the first place.
Jean squinted, observing Peter more closely. The bags under his eyes had deepened since she’d last seen him. “Peter, you’re shaking.”
“Huh? Shaking? No. I’m not shaking. Who’s shaking?” Peter said, his foot-tapping growing louder. Then, as if he was really considering it: “Maybe you’re shaking.”
“No, Peter, look. You’re literally vibrating. What happened?”
Peter really met Jean’s eyes now, confused. “Vibrating? Huh. Weird.” He took a bite of waffle and thoughtfully glanced up at the ceiling. “Maybe it was that energy drink I had last night.”
“Yeah, maybe…wait. The what?!”
“The energy drink. Couldn’t sleep. Figured that was why.”
So that’s why Peter’s thoughts were extra fast today.
“Peter,” Jean began, “why’d you have an energy drink? And at what time?”
His gaze drifted to the floor. “Uh, I don’t know. Past me probably thought it was a good idea.” Jean shook her head as she listened to him continue. “And maybe I had it around…” he paused, seriously considering. “Uh…couldn’t sleep at one a.m. Woke up and decided to come down here. Energy drink.”
Sure, Jean thought, that explains everything in perfect detail.
“Has anyone else come down here and checked on you?” Jean asked. “What time did you wake up this morning?”
That caught Peter’s attention just enough for his leg to stop shaking for a few seconds. “Wake up?”
Jean nodded. “You did…go to sleep, right?”
When Peter didn’t respond, she cleared her throat and tried her question again. “Did you hear me? You went to sleep last night, right? Or at least tried to?”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze.
That should’ve been the first warning sign that something was wrong. “You didn’t go to sleep, did you?” Jean assumed, lowering her voice. Peter nodded.
For a minute, he didn’t say anything, but his thoughts were loud. Jean could feel them, even though she was trying hard not to invade his mind. She didn’t think he’d like that.
Then he said, “Logan and Scott.”
“What?”
“Logan and Scott have already been down here this morning,” he said. “To answer your question.”
Jean thought for a moment. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go see if Scott’s still up. He might’ve gone back to bed.”
“You do that. Tell him he needs to get down here and eat a waffle. I didn’t make these all for nothing. Well, okay, maybe I did make them all for nothing, but still—” he was rambling faster than usual, and that’s what scared Jean even more. After this, she was going to put the energy drinks in a cabinet with a childproof lock.
“Peter,” she said before she left the room. He was still talking. She spoke up louder. “Peter.”
“Huh? Sorry, you say something?”
She glanced him over one more time. “Just…stay here. Try to slow down.”
“Slow down?” He echoed. “But I don’t—”
“Try,” she said. Then she turned toward the lab and decided, no, she wasn’t going to get Scott. She was going to go straight to Hank. Hopefully he’d know what to do.
—
“Let me get this straight,” Hank said for about the eightieth time that morning. “Peter drank an energy drink last night?”
“And is running off no sleep, yes,” Jean added. “And he’s vibrating.”
“Vibrating?”
“I know. You just have to see it for yourself.”
Shaking his head and sighing, Hank stood. “What even is my job? Show me where the kid is.”
Jean led him out into the kitchen again and pointed. “There.”
“What—oh, hey guys!” Peter said as soon as he noticed them. “Guess who’s here now?”
Jean and Hank’s gazes shifted to see Roberto sitting in a chair next to Peter, his eyes wide. “Oh, hey, Jean,” he murmured. He stood, walking over to greet them, and whispered, “Help. He’s asked me thirty questions in the span of one minute, and I haven’t even answered any yet.”
“It’s gotten that bad?” Jean asked.
Roberto just nodded.
“Okay,” she said, “go wake up Jubilee. We’re going to need the whole crew for this. Something’s wrong.”
“He said he drank an energy drink? And that you think that’s the problem?” Roberto continued. “But honestly, he’s talking so fast that—”
“Just go get Jubilee,” Jean repeated. “Hopefully we’ve got this.”
“Alright. Good luck.” Then Roberto was gone.
Hank, meanwhile, had slowly started inching toward Peter and asking him questions, all to which Peter gave equally if not faster answers. He was still shaking, but now he was also drumming his fingers on the table at an unusually fast speed while he talked. His words seemed to jumble together. And the entire time, he was acting like he was completely fine.
Hank was halfway through the questioning process when Jean started listening.
“Do you feel—”
“Normal? Yeah. Great. I feel great. Might be one of those off days. I drank an energy drink. Did Jean tell you I drank an energy drink? Can I mess with your equipment? I won’t break anything. Okay, I might break something. But I’ll try not to. Okay, that might also be a lie. I break a lotta things. Actually, I wouldn’t trust me with your equipment—”
At that moment, Warren walked in, oblivious to all the chaos around him. He grabbed a waffle, said morning to Jean, and then sat across from Peter. Of course, Peter got distracted.
“Oh. Hi. How are you? Do you like the waffles? I made the waffles. I can make more waffles. Do you want—”
“Peter.”
“Do you want more waffles? I can make more waffles—”
“You already said that—”
“I drank an energy drink. Did Jean tell you I drank an energy drink? Who did Jean tell that I drank an energy drink—”
Jean walked over to Warren, who had stopped trying to interrupt Peter and was now staring at him with confusion written all over his face. “Just back away slowly,” Jean said. “He has too much caffeine in his system.” Then, turning to Peter: “Hey, Peter, do you mind showing me which energy drink you had?”
“Which one I had? Oh. Yeah. Lemme just—” he stood. Then he was gone. It was like he’d teleported over to the fridge. Before everyone knew it, he was back in his seat holding an energy drink. “This one.”
His hand was shaking so badly that Jean had to take it from him just to read the name.
“Do you recognize it? Who bought it? I wonder who made energy drinks. Hank, do you know who made energy drinks? Whatever, doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know. Warren, stupid question, but do your wings ever randomly hurt? Actually, really stupid question, don’t answer. What do you guys wanna talk about?”
Jean ignored him and handed the drink to Hank. “Seems normal to me.”
Hank looked it over, checked the label, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll take a closer look at this just in case. And Peter?”
Peter turned his head faster than needed. That scared everyone in the room. But he said, as if completely fine, “Yep? Ooh, are you about to give me important instructions like in a superhero movie? Oh my gosh, are we in a superhero movie?”
“Just…stay here,” Hank said. “The others should be down to keep you company soon.” He glanced at Warren and Jean. “I’d just let him talk.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Warren agreed. “Sounds good.”
Something told Jean that he was traumatized on a whole other level now.
She nodded. “We’ll try. We can’t really stop him if he runs off, though.”
There’s no telling where he’d go.
Hank agreed. “No, but we don’t have any other options.”
“You’re right, I guess.” When Hank left, Jean looked at Warren. “I think I’m going to get Scott and Logan. They said they saw Peter earlier this morning. Maybe they can help Hank. Can you hold down the fort here?”
Warren sounded hesitant, but he said, “Um, okay.”
“You’re sure?”
He glanced over at Peter, who had heard his name and was now looking around, asking, “Huh? What about me? Who said my name?”
“Uh, yeah. We’ll be totally fine,” Warren answered.
“Okay. I’ll be back in, like, two seconds.” Then Jean was gone.
—
“I said I’d be back in two seconds. What happened here?!” Jean asked as soon as she entered the kitchen. Scott was trailing behind her, his posture stiff and eyes alert.
Warren was leaning against the wall, breathing heavier than she’d ever seen him breathe. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when he heard Jean’s voice. Peter’s chair was kicked aside and he was currently running circles throughout the mansion. Every time he passed through the kitchen, Warren’s feathers would ruffle before settling back into place.
“Wanted to…play tag,” Warren began explaining through breaths. “Thought, hey, I can fly pretty—pretty fast—”
Jean was already shaking her head before she’d heard the full explanation. “No.”
“Thought, what’s the worst…that can…happen…”
Logan chose that convenient moment to appear in the hallway. “What’s Peter running away from?”
Scott said over his shoulder, “Uh, he’s not running away from anything. He’s playing tag.”
That seemed to make Logan more confused. He knit his brows. “What? With who?!”
“Warren, apparently.”
“Poor kid. Tell him I hope he wins.”
Before anyone could react, Peter stopped running right in front of Warren. “Hey,” he said, “you’re still it. You coming or what?”
Warren sounded like he’d aged ten years in ten minutes. “Just…gimme a minute…”
“Need to catch your breath?” Peter asked. Then he noticed everyone else who’d shown up. “Do one of you guys wanna play tag?”
They all simultaneously said no.
Peter’s gaze dropped for just a minute before he glanced at them again. “Oh. Okay.”
“Glad to see you’re still alive, kiddo,” Logan said, walking out of the hallway and ruffling Peter’s hair as he passed. “Looked like your head was about to fall off your shoulders when I last saw you.”
At that, Jean froze. “Um. What?”
Scott chimed in, “Yeah, what?”
Logan grabbed a waffle and looked at Peter, who was now trying to fix his hair, but his hands were moving too fast and he just made it more messy. He exhaled and started messing with one of the buttons on his jean jacket.
“I said something, and he turned around so fast that I was afraid his neck was gonna snap,” Logan explained.
Even though it sounded like an absurd statement, Jean’s eyes lit up with recognition. “He did that earlier, too. Warren saw. Right?”
Everyone turned their attention to Warren. He waved his hand at them. “Sorry, I can’t really—answer questions right now—”
“You guys, leave the kid alone,” Scott said. “He’s obviously having some trouble right now.”
“Who’s having some trouble right now?” Jubilee entered the room, Roberto beside her. “Peter? Because that’s what I’ve—” she paused when she could fully take in the scene: Warren sounding like he was dying, Peter vibrating in place, and Logan standing in the middle of it all eating a waffle.
“Woah,” she murmured. “What happened?”
At that moment, Hank called from the lab, “Is he still going crazy?!”
Scott glanced over his shoulder. “That’s my cue. Sounds like Hank needs answers. And please, no one try to play tag with Peter while I’m gone.”
Jubilee raised her eyebrows. “Someone tried to play tag with Quicksilver?! Why?!”
“I thought it was a good idea!” Warren managed.
Jubilee laughed. “Oh. So that’s why you’re breathing so hard.”
Scott looked around. “No, seriously, please don’t break anything. Rogue’ll kill me if she hears another plate fall.” Without any other words, he turned and walked down the hallway to go see Hank.
—
According to Hank, the stimulus from the energy drink should’ve worn off by now. If Peter Maximoff had it at twelve a.m, then he should be back to normal. Unless he had multiple, but from the amount of energy drinks still left in the fridge, it looked like he’d only had one.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Hank was muttering when Jean and Logan entered the room. “Sure, mutant powers act up, but they shouldn’t be going off the rails this badly.”
Scott’s eyes flicked to the door when he heard it open. Jean waved at him, but her eyes were worried. Logan didn’t offer any greeting, but he did look like he was contemplating flipping Scott off.
“So, you’re basically telling me there’s no reason—”
“There’s no reason he should be acting like this, yes.”
“And there’s nothing we can do?”
Hank paused, thinking for a moment. “Well, not that I can think of. He can’t physically run off the energy, right? So…we just have to wait for it to die down?”
He didn’t sound hopeful about that last part.
Scott nodded, though his expression was also grim. “Maybe Remy has something to say about this. He’s good at reading people, isn’t he?” At that, he turned to Logan for confirmation.
Jean gave a thumbs up. Logan stayed silent.
“If you’re willing to wake him, then yeah,” Hank agreed. “Go for it.”
So, Scott, Logan, and Jean knocked on Remy’s door. They were answered with silence. “He’s probably still sleeping,” Logan muttered.
Scott knocked again. “Remy?”
“Right behind you, mon ami.”
Remy’s voice made them all collectively jump. As they turned and stared at him, he started laughing. “Have you ever known me to sleep through the morning?”
“Well—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Logan.”
“Okay.”
“So,” he continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “I heard you needed somethin’ from me?”
Jean nodded before anyone else could speak. “Uh, yeah. Have you seen Peter lately?”
At that, Remy’s eyes darkened. “Yeah,” he said, “I have. He tried to shove a waffle down my throat.”
“Not surprised,” Logan commented. Everyone ignored him.
“Do you possibly know…I don’t know, what could be wrong with him?”
“What could be wrong with him?” Remy tilted his head. “I dunno. I thought he drank some energy drink—”
“He did,” Scott interjected, “but the stimulus should’ve worn off by now. He’s just…acting like this for no reason.”
That’s what made Remy question his previous statement. After a few minutes of thinking, he opened his mouth. Everyone prepared for some great declaration that would solve all their problems. Instead, he asked, “Really?”
“Yep,” Scott answered. “I think…” he paused for a minute, “I think something deeper’s going on that we don’t understand.”
“Well, obviously. You had to come to the professional gambler to fix this problem.”
Logan huffed. “Well, thanks. You were a lotta help,” he muttered sarcastically.
“Glad to be,” Remy shot back.
Then they heard it.
BAMF.
Kurt Wagner appeared right next to Remy, his eyes wide. “What’s going on with Peter?” He whispered.
Scott knit his brows. “Uh, Kurt? Why are you whispering?”
“He’ll hear me. He hears everything.”
Remy shook his head. “Now that’s not—”
“I whispered a question to Warren and Peter answered instead.” Kurt glanced at his surroundings as if he were afraid Peter might step out of the shadows. He looked traumatized. “It’s like living with a teleporter.”
“So,” Logan said, “now you know how it feels.”
“What?! I’m not nosy like him!” Kurt whisper-yelled. “He just…shows up! Out of nowhere!”
“Sounds like someone I know,” Scott said. “But we can’t get caught up in the logistics of it. We have to figure out why he’s acting this way. Because it’s not the energy drink.”
“Maybe it’s the spirits,” Kurt murmured. “Maybe he’s possessed.”
Jean tilted her head. “Um, by what, exactly?”
Kurt was still whispering when he said, “You know. The evil demon spirits.”
“Okay, I’m leaving. This conversation officially cannot get weirder.”
“You have to admit there’s something supernatural happening!” Kurt argued. “He’s bouncing off the walls!”
“I think you might just be superstitious,” Scott told him, “but I see where you’re coming from. We’ll keep that option on the table. Any other ideas?”
Slowly, everyone realized that no, they didn’t have any other ideas. Remy shook his head, murmuring “Mince.” Logan still had not left despite saying he was going to. He probably just didn’t wanna walk back out into the kitchen and deal with Peter.
“I think…I think we have to confront him,” Jean finally said. The group all looked at her. “It’s the only way to figure out what’s happening.”
“Yeah, okay,” Scott agreed. “He’ll have to tell us what’s going on. Because this clearly isn’t some sugar-induced symptom. It’s gotta be something he’s doing semi-intentionally, at least.”
Kurt stepped back. “Okay, but I’m not going to be the one to do it.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Remy added. “After he tried to kill me with a waffle, I’m staying away from him.”
“And I don’t wanna lose my reputation with the kid,” Logan said. “So one of you two has to do it.” He looked pointedly at Scott and Jean.
Meanwhile, Scott and Jean looked at each other. It was like they were talking with their eyes. Slowly, Scott started nodding. “Alright,” he agreed. “Jean and I’ll do it. We just gotta make sure Peter didn’t kill anyone else with a waffle first.”
—
When they walked into the kitchen, it truly did look like a disaster. Peter was eating a waffle, talking to probably eighteen people at once, and still noticed when Scott and Jean walked in. He waved at them and immediately zipped over. “Hey! Where’ve you been?”
His speaking style had calmed down just enough that Jean didn’t have to struggle to understand him. She glanced at Scott. He nodded. “Uh, Peter?”
“Yeah? Is it about the waffles? Everything’s about the waffles. What’s up?”
She continued before he could start spouting nonsense again. “Can we…talk to you?”
Something in his expression changed. Maybe it was his eyes, or the way his shoulders slightly slumped, but he looked…more tired, somehow. Then he lit back up again and said, “Uh, sure. What’s it about? Where do you wanna go?”
“Uh…” Jean looked at Scott for ideas.
“Hallway,” he suggested.
“Sure. Hallway.” Peter agreed. Then he was gone, and Jean’s hair was blown into her face.
They both turned and followed him. By the time they got there, he was yawning. “Slowpokes. Now what do you wanna talk to me about?”
Jean couldn’t help but notice that he’d started shaking worse. His words had started jumbling together again. But she just shook her head. Must be side effects of whatever’s going on.
“So,” Scott started, clearing his throat, “we’re…”
“Worried,” Jean cut in. Peter’s attention flipped between them like an on and off switch: constant and quick. He was messing with one of the buttons on his jacket again, and there was something darker in his eyes that Jean didn’t wanna analyze right now.
“We’re worried about you, Peter,” she continued, trying to ignore his constant fidgeting. “Hank said that the energy drink side effects should’ve worn off hours ago.”
At that, he raised his eyebrows. “Really? Doesn’t—doesn’t feel like it.” He laughed breathily for a minute, then started tapping his foot. “I think I probably have some extra energy to spare.”
“When do you not?” Scott asked. “But Jean’s right, we are worried. And we’re wondering…do you—how should I word this—”
Peter listened more intently at that. His eyes widened a bit more. He was trembling so bad he had to lean against the wall. He started to shrug his jacket off, then seemed to change his mind halfway through and put it back on. He rubbed his hands against each other, then fidgeted with the buttons on his jacket again, then took off his goggles and twirled them on his fingers.
He looked…nervous.
But no. Peter Maximoff’s never nervous. He’s not scared. And he’s definitely never silent. But that’s exactly what he was in that moment as he listened to Scott.
“Alright, I’m just gonna say it. Peter, are you…intentionally acting like this? To, say, prove a point or something?” Scott asked. Scott didn’t seem to notice how scared Peter looked, how silent he had gone.
Peter swallowed and stumbled over his words. “I—what? Me? Doing this—doing this intentionally?” He laughed again, smiling at them, but it was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Since when would I ever do something like that?”
“Just last week you stole the last roll at dinner.”
“Well, okay, but that’s—that’s a roll, not…not—”
“Peter,” Jean interrupted. His eyes flicked to her so fast she almost thought he’d predicted she’d speak next. “Maybe you didn’t do all of this on purpose, but…is there some part of you that did? And, if so, then…why?” When he knit his brows, I added, “we’re not trying to accuse you of anything. We just want to know what might be bothering you so bad that you resorted to trying to run away from it.”
Jean shouldn’t have said that.
Peter’s hands were shaking when he lifted them to put his goggles back on his head. He tried to fix his hair and ended up making it messier instead. Then his eyes settled on Jean and Scott, and his smile dropped. “I—”
“Peter, you don’t have to tell us,” Jean continued. “We just want to know if you’re okay.”
“Yeah,” Scott added. “You seem a little off.”
Peter was shaking his head now, his eyes wide. “No. No, no, no. I—I’m sorry, guys—” Jean swore his voice was about to break, but he paused before it did and took a breath. Then, immediately switching topics, he said, “I think I’m gonna go lay down. Maybe that’ll help me.”
“Peter—”
By the time Jean said his name, he was already gone.
When they walked back out into the kitchen, Rogue tilted her head. “Hey, where’s Peter?”
Kurt gave Jean the knowing side-eye. Remy tilted his head. “Yeah, where is he?” He asked. “What’d you guys do to him?”
Logan rolled his eyes. “They probably didn’t do anything to him.”
I glanced at Scott. “I, uh…I don’t know. He seemed pretty upset just then…”
Logan shrugged. “He’ll get over it. Kids are like that.”
I tilted my head. “You’re sure?”
“Yep. Here, I’ll go check on him right now and report back.”
Scott tried to stop him. “Logan, I don’t think now is the best—”
“The best time? Yeah, no, I don’t care.”
Logan disappeared into the hallway and we all sat and waited for results. Jubilee, Roberto, and Warren were talking while eating waffles. Oh, to be young.
A few minutes later, Logan came back. His expression had shifted into something dangerous. Guarded.
Kurt was the first to notice. “Oh no. What happened?”
The alarm bells went off in Scott’s mind. He turned and took one look at Logan, then glanced at Jean. “Something’s wrong.”
Jean nodded. “Logan? What did you find?”
“I was just trying to ask him a question, too,” Rogue murmured. “If you guys did something to him—”
She was shut up whenever Logan lifted a piece of scrap paper out for them all to read. It looked like it had been torn out of a notebook in a hurry, and messy handwriting was scribbled on it. No, not just handwriting. Peter’s handwriting.
Don’t try to follow me. That’s what it said. No big speech. No declaration of why he was doing what he was doing. Just five words.
Remy took in a sharp breath. “What—”
Logan muttered, “He’s gone.”
Jean blinked, not registering the words. “What?”
“The kid is gone,” Logan repeated, a bit louder this time. “Peter’s gone and we have no idea where he went.”
That got the attention of Jubilee. “What?!”
Logan looked over at them. “Here. Take it. Take the note for all I care.” He threw it out of his hands. It fluttered to the floor at Jean’s feet. “I quit.”
“Logan—”
But it was already too late. Logan was already going back to his room.
Peter was gone. The team was in shambles. And somehow, there were still more waffles left to eat.
Jean looked down. At the note. At the last thing they had of him. He was going to tire himself out, either mentally or physically or maybe both. He might get lost. He might never find the mansion again.
Peter was gone. And he didn’t want anyone to follow him.
—
This is what they were always going to do eventually.
That was the first thing Peter thought as he walked away from the mansion.
They were going to kick you out and leave you on your own. That’s what always happens. That’s what everyone does.
He closed his eyes, trying to reason with himself.
You’re too much.
Yeah. He was. He was too much. And he’d done nothing but prove that to the rest of the mansion today.
They were always going to kick him out eventually. That’s what always happens. He’s too much to manage and they try to get rid of him. Actually, the fact that he was able to stay at the mansion for as long as he did surprised him.
But everything has to come to an end. Everything always comes to an end. They always tell him one morning to leave and that he can’t stay there anymore. That he has to find someplace else to go.
Now he was telling that to himself. Because he knew that even if the others weren’t saying it, they were thinking it. Jean and Scott talked to him because they wanted him gone. He couldn’t actually tell them what he was thinking, what he was “running from.” It’d just make them more mad.
They don’t care about you. They’re probably not going to come look for you.
As they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t come looking for him, because he didn’t wanna be followed.
Right?
His pace had quickened now. He wasn’t in the mansion’s shadow anymore, walking along the streets and trying to get away like his life depended on it. Which it did. He couldn’t be seen by them again. They didn’t want him anymore.
Jean’s voice echoed in his mind. “We just want to know what might be bothering you so bad that you resorted to trying to run away from it.”
Bothering me? Peter had wanted to say. You wanna know what’s bothering me? The fact that I’m replaceable everywhere I go, even here. Even this place that I considered home.
Peter was running now, becoming a silver blur sweeping across the city. Trying to run from it. Trying to run away from everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours.
It didn’t work.
His feet pounded against the asphalt too hard. He stumbled, blinded by tears. When did those start falling?
He knew he couldn’t run from it forever. But he was going to try.
He lapped the earth once. Twice. Kept going. Didn’t stop. Didn’t stop when he almost tripped and lost his footing. That never used to happen when he was focused, but he wasn’t so focused now, was he?
He didn’t stop when he passed through New York again. Air whipped past him, lashing at his arms. Huh. That never used to happen when he was focused. Wasn’t he supposed to be protected from the air?
Weeks seemed to pass in his mind. Weeks of pain and hypothetical questions and trying to outrun it all. But he wasn’t fast enough. He was never fast enough.
He went on autopilot, trying to calm himself down. His legs were burning, the rest of the world a blur around him. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t wanna know, either.
It all got worse when he started recognizing the path he was subconsciously taking.
He recognized the shape of the building before him. Knew the interior by heart. He was back at the mansion. Back at the one place he didn’t want to be. He started shaking his head, tears falling harder. “N-No—”
But this was the only place he had to go. He couldn’t go anywhere else. Even if they kicked him out, he’d still always come back. Because this used to be his home.
Used to, he thought as he ran up the wall. This isn’t my home anymore—
His legs slowed when he got to the roof, beginning to drag. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt, trying to run hurt.
His knees buckled. He tried. He really did try to keep going.
For the first time in his life, running had tired him out.
He collapsed.
—
It was around dinner when they heard it. Remy, Scott, Jean, and Rogue were sitting in the kitchen, all emotionally compromised in different ways.
Something that resembled an explosion shook the mansion windows. Scott instantly raised his head, already alert. “What was that?”
Jean, who’d been worrying about Peter for the past three hours since he’d run off, shook her head. “I...don’t know.”
“Sounds like it came from the roof,” Rogue added. “I’ll go check it out.”
She stood, but Remy grabbed her wrist. “I’m coming with you.”
Scott watched them leave the room, fidgeting with his hands. “Do you think I should’ve gone?”
“Here, let me see if I can sense what it is,” Jean murmured, closing her eyes. She pressed a finger to her temple.
She sensed a heartbeat. A faint one, but it was there. Her eyes snapped open. Scott noticed the worry in her expression. “Jean—”
“Roof. Now.”
He didn’t argue, just followed her as she rushed up to the roof. When they got there, Rogue and Remy were staring at the destruction. There were skid marks and shingles torn up. It’s a miracle the roof didn’t fall through the entire mansion.
Everyone’s eyes followed the trail. At the very end of it was a body. Silver hair windswept and goggles still on. His jacket was slightly torn on one of the sleeves. He wasn’t moving, his breathing shallow.
Peter.
Rogue was the first to fully understand the situation. She ran over to him, kneeling down next to him and turning him over. “Peter—” she said, shaking his shoulders. “Hey—”
She got no response.
Jean came forward next. She took one look at him and realized. He was out cold.
“Rogue—”
“What happened?” Rogue asked. Her voice was small. “Why’d he do it?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.” Jean had never said that sentence more in her life.
“We have to take him to medbay,” Scott instructed, though his voice was quieter than usual. He walked over and looked at Peter. Jean swore she saw something in his eyes soften. He crouched down and slid an arm under Peter’s shoulders.
Remy walked over as Scott lifted Peter. Scott’s posture stiffened instantly. The first indication that something was wrong.
“What’s…what’s wrong, Scott?” Remy asked hesitantly. Not mon ami. Not his usual joking tone. Something had fractured Remy just enough that he wasn’t trying to be funny anymore.
“He’s light.”
Rogue looked up at Scott, confused. “What?”
“He’s…really light. Like, too light.”
Jean’s heart dropped. “Just get him to medbay. Hank will know what to do.”
Scott glanced down at Peter, knitting his brows. With a sigh, he murmured, “Now I know how Logan feels.”
They carried him back inside.
—
It was a day later when Peter finally woke up.
Jubilee and Roberto were sitting outside the medbay and refused to move. Logan was leaning against the wall pretending all of this didn’t bother him. Scott was inside talking to Hank. Everyone was scattered somewhere nearby.
So when Peter finally opened his eyes, almost everybody knew instantly.
Scott’s head snapped toward him and he was by Peter’s side in a second. “Hey,” he murmured. His voice was softer than anyone had heard before. “Hey, look at me.”
Peter took one glance around the room before his confused gaze settled on Scott. “Hi?”
Jean came into the room next. “Scott, how is—” her eyes widened when she saw that Peter was awake. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
For the first time in forty-eight hours, Peter was truly quiet. He wasn’t shaking. He wasn’t nervously fidgeting. He looked…at peace.
Then his eyes darkened.
Jubilee and Roberto chose that moment to enter the room. Jubilee began, “Hey! Are you—oh no.”
Scott reached out, then pulled his hand back as if thinking it better not to touch Peter yet. “What’s wrong?”
“Yeah, you can tell us,” Jean added.
Roberto began to back out of the room. “I’m just gonna—”
“Someone told me the kid was awake?” That was Logan, and behind him were trailing Rogue and Remy. Warren slowly entered with Kurt, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He ended up leaning against the wall next to Logan.
Meanwhile, Hank was watching this all unfold. He knew that if he asked everyone not to crowd Peter, they wouldn’t listen, so he just let them come in.
Rogue took a tentative step forward. “Hi Pete,” she said. “How’s it going?”
Peter took a minute to think before answering. “I think…I think I’m okay. Really hungry though.”
At that, she laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ll get food.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Peter looked around at everyone in the room, knitting his brows. But he didn’t make a joke. He didn’t try to hide his confusion. He just…sat with it.
“You…okay, Peter?” Scott asked, breaking the silence.
Peter took a breath. “I thought you wouldn’t help me.”
He said this as if it were just a normal Tuesday for him, but Jean froze. Logan looked up. Peter had even caught Warren’s attention.
“I thought…” Peter trailed off, thinking for a minute. Jean started to say something, but then Kurt shook his head.
“Just let him talk,” Kurt quietly told her. “I have a feeling he has something he needs to say.”
So Jean listened. Actually listened to him. Scott did too. And Peter began to explain.
“It wasn’t only the energy drink,” Peter said. “It was…me. Purposefully doing all that stuff.” Then he tilted his head. “Actually, I think the waffles were from the energy drink, but still.
“I drank it because I couldn’t sleep,” he continued. “Wanted to get some stuff off my mind. Thought that an energy drink would help. Besides, Logan would’ve killed me if I’d stolen some of his beer.”
“Um, and you’re underage?” Jubilee added.
“Well, sure, but anyway—the point is that once the effects wore off, I didn’t know what to do. The thoughts just kept coming back and so I thought the only way to solve my problem was to distract myself. It worked for a minute.” He actually smiled at that. Peter Maximoff, smiling while talking about how he felt like he had to run away from himself.
Everyone had their worries, but no one interrupted. Not yet. They just listened.
“I’m usually…too much for people.” Peter swallowed hard before he kept going. “And I thought that I was too much for you guys, too. I knew that you wouldn’t want me here for much longer, so…I decided to run. The only problem was that I kinda had nowhere to go and ended up back here in the end, but…” he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I can go now. You don’t have to keep me. No one ever does, anyway.”
For about thirty seconds, no one said anything.
Rogue was the first to speak up. “Peter…”
“Yeah?” He glanced up at her.
She locked eyes with him. Opened her mouth. She looked like she was trying to decide what to say. “You…”
“You’re not too much.”
Everyone’s attention turned to Remy. His voice was quieter than usual. He was done joking. “You’re not too much,” he repeated. “Heck, no one here thinks you’re ‘too much.’”
Peter didn’t fully seem like he understood what Remy was saying. He opened his mouth to respond, but Scott beat him to it.
“Peter,” Scott said, “we’re not kicking you out.”
Peter just stared at him for a moment. “What?”
“You’re family,” Rogue said. “Whether you like it or not.”
“Yeah. Roberto seems scared of all of us half the time, but he’s staying here for the rest of his life,” Jubilee added.
“What?! I’m not scared of you guys!”
“You act like it.”
“You—”
“The point is,” Jean interrupted before Jubilee and Roberto could escalate their argument any further, “you did nothing wrong. You’re not too much for us, Peter.”
“Though you did try to kill me at breakfast this morning,” Remy added. “Be warned. I’m plotting my revenge.”
Rogue slapped him on the arm.
Peter looked around the room. At all these people who chose to keep him even when he’d made their life an absolute mess. They could’ve just left him on the roof and not done anything. But they didn’t. Because they wanted him on their team.
Something warm flickered inside his chest before he tamped it down.
“Man,” he began after a moment, laughing. “What did I do to deserve you people?”
“Nothing,” Logan answered. “They just all have a tendency to get attached to young mutants they picked up off the street.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “They?”
“Yeah. They meaning all of you guys. Not me.”
Warren laughed, burying his face in his hands. “Are you kidding me? Earlier you—”
“Zip it.”
Warren sighed with relief. “We should start a Logan Threat Jar.”
“Logan Threat Jar?”
“Yeah. For every time you threaten one of us.”
“Kid, I don’t—”
Kurt interrupted him. “We’d have probably thirty bucks in there from today alone.”
“Yeah,” Roberto agreed, “the other day he told me if I stepped another foot into his room he was going to throw something at me.”
Logan tried to speak. “Hey, in my defense—"
“I was trying to wake you up in the morning. You literally woke up and chose violence,” Roberto continued. “Nothing should be that serious.”
“How would you feel if I banged on your door at 6:45 and screamed at you to get up?”
“Actually, I would feel amazing, thank you.”
Logan’s scowl deepened. “I hate you.”
“Sure you do.”
And just like that, the mansion was back to normal. Logan was still irritated by everyone. Scott still tried to stay on schedule (which never worked). But Peter…he actually felt like he belonged there now. Anytime someone asked him to train with them or he joined the group on movie night, something seemed to fill the empty space in his heart where a family should’ve been.
Because maybe, deep down, he’d always considered the X-Men as family. It just took him almost dying and having a mental breakdown to figure it out. To figure out that the mansion was his home.
“Why are you smiling so much?”
Peter jumped at the sound of Kurt’s voice. “Gosh, Kurt, you scared me.”
“You looked happy. I wanted to know why.”
Peter opened his mouth, then shook his head. “It’s—it’s nothing. Just…made myself laugh.”
Kurt looked skeptical, but he didn’t press. “If you say so. Are you coming to breakfast?”
“Uh, yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”
When Kurt was gone, Peter looked around. He heard Remy muttering something about leftover waffles. Scott sounded tired as always. They were probably arguing over something stupid.
This was his family. They were chaotic and out of order and crazy, but…they accepted him. They weren’t gonna try to kick him out. He wasn’t going to have to live on the streets.
This was his home now.
He smiled to himself, testing the word out. Home. This place. Where he was standing.
And for the first time, Peter Maximoff truly slowed down and took in his surroundings.
His home.
And that was better than anything an energy drink or forty-seven waffles could give him.