End of Story, End of Father

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: Don't own.  Haven't done a Pietro in a while so here goes.

            We throw words around a lot of times.  We sling them at something without bothering to see if they really stick or not.  We don't really have good concepts of the meanings for some words.  Words like never, forever, always, those kinds of words.  We use them without knowing what they mean.

            I'm rambling again.  My mind moves so fast I can barely keep up with it sometimes.  Xavier just called a little while ago.  Magneto is dead, that's the news he delivered.  Magneto fought Apocalypse and lost.  Bye, bye Dad.  I wish it were that easy, that simple and clear-cut.  I wish Apocalypse really had killed my father.

            I guess that's why I'm numb to this whole deal.  Dad's dead, whoop-dee-do.  Do you see me caring, see me crying?  Nope.  See the thing is that I know Dad's not dead.  No matter how much I'd love to jump up and down and tap dance on his tombstone for the hell he's made me endure I know it just won't happen.  He'll be back, he always comes back.  This is just a little vacation for me, a much needed one I might add.  They say cockroaches will be one of the few, maybe only, species to survive a nuclear holocaust.  My father will be right there with them.  There are few absolutes in this universe.  Death, taxes, and my father.

            I have to admit that this time does feel a little different.  Maybe it's because people actually saw it, actually saw him spontaneously combust.  I wish I was there to have seen him pop like a balloon.  Bet it was one hell of a fireworks show.  He's always swaggered around like he was God or something.  'Look at me, I'm the most powerful mutant on Earth.  I can use whoever I have to, even my own children, to get what I want.'  Ha, ha Dad.  Maybe while you're sitting in whatever little secret hideout you're in you can sulk about it, about the fact that this time someone else was more powerful than you.  You're not the bully anymore, Dad.

            I don't believe he's dead but to be perfectly honest I wish he was.  I wish he would go away and never come back.  There's one of those words again, never.  I know exactly what it means thought and I wish it with all that's left in me.  Go away forever and never come back.  That's what you get for treating me and Wanda, your own children for God's sake, like shit.

            Wanda, my baby sister.  I did something really stupid.  I was in a good mood after Xavier called and as usual when life is good I just have to screw it up.  So I go upstairs to spread the good cheer, that our maggot of a father is gone.  What does she do?  She cries about it.  Great, just perfect.  Way to go, Dad.  Forgot to clean that little mess up, didn't you?  What now, am I supposed to do it for you?  Fine.

            I tried to explain it to her about how she used to hate him as much as I do.  She wouldn't listen and probably never will.  It's just like always, the more you push the less good it does.  Dad knew it, knew she was like this.  He figured out how to use it against her to keep her trapped.  Now the more I push, the more I tell her how horrible he was to us, the less she believes me.

            He's not gone, he'll never ever be gone.  Even if I watched him die, saw his cold lifeless body get shoved into the dirt, he'd still never be truly gone.  Why exactly?  Because he's inside me.  I'm just another Magneto waiting to happen.  I see it in me, the arrogance, the superiority, the pride.  I have his face and unfortunately I have his soul too.  The same disgusting, tainted blood in his veins runs through mine as well.  Hating him is hating myself and being myself is only being him.  Running won't change that.

            I can still hear his voice in the back of my head.  It's still cold, stern, devoid of any emotion.  Soon my own voice will become his voice.  My father is dead and I'm not crying.  What kind of heartless bastard does that?  The kind only Magneto could love, could approve of.  The kind I have become.  Even if he did die he'd just live on as the hideous cancer inside me that twists me into another him and causes me to hurt the people I care about.  Even in death he manages a final laugh that echoes off the walls of my mind and drives me insane.

            I am Pietro but not a Maximoff.  Maximoffs, they were made for better things.  Wanda's a Maximoff but me, I'm a Lehnsherr.  I'm damned and cursed to end up like the one who spawned me.  It's not too late for her though.  I can still try to help her remember, still keep pushing.  It'll break eventually, it has to.  I won't let him have the last laugh.

            You hear that, Dad?  I hope wherever you are you're happy about all that's happened.  Whether you're dead or not you're never going to haunt us again.  I absolutely mean it.  You're never going to sink your disgusting claws into my sister ever again.

            I pull my head out of my hands and stare at the mirror in my room.  Dear God, I am just like him.  I'm still trying to get the last word, to make myself feel like I've won like I'm superior.  I'm trying to beat Dad because I refuse to think that he's won and I've lost.  That's just like Dad and Apocalypse.  He's staring right back at me from the mirror.  He's laughing because he knows he's already won.  Dead or not no matter what I do I will eventually turn into him.  Like father, like son.  God, I wish it wasn't so true.