A/N: Yeah... this one is longer than the other two, and considerabley weirder, I guess. This is what happens when you only get five hours sleep, drink tea and coca-cola, and obsess over Peitro all day. The caffeine makes me want to be angsty. O.o; Of the oddness, ne? Whatever. Need more tea. Enjoy the fanfiction!


Pietro's eyes met those of his sister's. His a sad sapphire, hers an angry red.

She glared at him, her beautiful features snarling, her white teeth bared like an avenging wolf, her hands, the same ones that had held a butterfly so delicately and gentle, so many years ago, clenched into dangerous fists glowing with hex.

Her eyes...

Filled with something, burning...

Hatred.

So much Hatred.

Pietro was tired of it...

So goddamn tired..

Of always being alone...

Hated.

Always being the face of everyones' frustrations.

The target of their anger.

Maybe he brought it upon himself.

Maybe he was always meant to be this alone.

Maybe the only reason he lived was to..

Was to...

' Would it truely make you happy.. to kill me, sister?"

' Would it make you free from this hatred and anger that burns inside of you...? Slowly deteriorating the sister that I love.. that loved me. My twin. My heart.'

' If it would truely make it worth it.. If it would truely free you...'

Rain poured from the skies, and lightning strick violently in the background, as if the gods were egging her on.

Pietro felt as if he was trying to walk underwater, everything going so slowly, yet nothing was ever more clear. Never before had everything seemed so painfully real. So achingly true. The truth in her eyes, that you have to face it. The truth in the skies, and the water attacking his vision if he looked up.

She was only a foot away from him, and he with no energy left to run.

To do what he walways did when things began to seem real to him.When things started to matter to him. When his indifference began to slowly fade, left with nothing but this frightened child, this infuriating weakness.

"Wanda.."

Her eyes were like poisin cutting into his soul and slowly eating away at his internal organs. A sick feeling formed in the pit of his sotmache and his throat felt raw and hoarse. But his eyes were clearer than the had been in a decade, he had been running for so long and things were begining to catch up with him.

They always did... in the End..

"Please Wanda..."

The rain.. nowhere to run...

Suffocated in her anger..

In her bitterness...

"Please just..."

He met her in the eyes and she was too blinded by rage to see the sincerity in them. At this last moment to see the regret in them. Too blinded by her hatred for him, that was only a substitute for the hatred she had for their father. The hatred she had for the world.

She directed it all on him, this maddening fury.

This mad fury...

XXXXXXX

Blood.

The smell of blood was unmistakeable to his inhanced senses, and Logan would never forget this scent.

Of blood.

Of terror.

Of anger and fear so strong that his adamantium claws ached with memory of a time when these things were as constant all around him as was cabon-dioxide.

He wasnt sure if anyone, excluding of course, Chuck, noticed that he had left the mansion. His odd behaviors had slowly become the norm even among the New Mutants.

He wasnt sure where he was going, but let his instincts lead him, and damn it felt good.

It always did when he let this other side of his take the reins, even if it was only for small period of time. As long he was still in control, he could let himself enjoy the experience.

Freedom.

But, he reminded himself, tonight he had an objective.

He wasnt at all sure what in Hell that objective was but it was nonetheless there, and calling him.

Luring him.

The last thing he expected was this.

He had found himself at what looked like it had once been a house, but had ripped apart, hit by a tornadoe twice over, and now all that was left was slightly burnt ruins.

He saw a slightly familiar shape in the middle of it, and he could hear... hear her sobbing.

Logan slowly approached Wanda Maximoff.

Her clothes were torn in places, and her makeup smeared beyond recognition. Her hair was wet with the rain that had been so steadily pouring, only a moment ago.

But her eyes.

Her eyes were red and puffy, and still tears were falling from the dark blue pools. And for once, they did not look angry, only...

Haunted.

It was only then Logan saw QuickSilver.

The boy's head was in his sister's lap, his stark white hair, which he had always prided himself in styling ever so carefully, was eskew and high-lighted in blood.

His pale skin an unnatural grey.

His eyes open and unseeing.

Pietro Maximoff was dead.

The Scarlet Witch didnt look away from her twin, Logan's prescence seemed not to have registered to her, and even when Wolverine put his hand on her shoulder she did not respond.

She was still sobbing, her proud shoulders uncharacteristically sagged, her breathing hitched, hiccuping.

So fragile.

Finally she looked at him.

And in a raw whisper, an ashamed breath, she said..

"I killed him."

Logan was shocked. He had known that the twins didnt like eachother, hated even. But, to think that she would...

Another sob. "I dont get it.. I just dont understand... It do-doesnt make sense anymore. None of it."

XXXXXX

He...he...'

' Why...?'

' Why doesnt it feel like I thought it would..?'

' He deserved it, then, why am I crying? Why doesnt it make sense! '

' Why did he... did he... tell me to kill him...?'

' That doesnt make any sense. He's Pietro..that cocky sonofabitch. Didnt care about me... not about anyone but himself... that traitorous bastard...'

Then why did it hurt so much?

Why did she feel like...

A part of her was missing.

Like someone had cut off a leg or an arm..

A part of her.

It made Wanda so angry.

' Why is it, even in death, Pietro denies me my vengence! Why does he haunt me still! HE'S DEAD! HESDEADHESDEADHESDEADHESDEADHESDEAD!'

WHY DOES IT FEEL SO WRONG?

WHY DOESNT IT MAKE SENSE ANYMORE?

Then...

A part of her began to realize..

"Please, just kill me.."

Pietro... he...

Blood, on her fingertips, Pietro looking up at her, his eyes dimming, that grin finally wiped off his hateful face. The face that looked so much like their father's.

She laughed.

She knew how insane she sounded, but at that moment she didnt care, she laughed. Grinning madly she laughed herself to tears, as he lay dying in front of her.

That look... that stupid look.. never leaving from his face.

He coughed once. And the mere helplessness of her "dear" brother sent her into hysterics once more.

He said something to her..

So quiet..

She wouldnt have heard over her own laughter, like the thunder that echoed above her, so quietly... he said...

I love you, sister..


A/N: As you can see, all of my endings suck major penguin feet. o.o; If there are any spelling errors or whatever, blame it on me typing waaaaay too fast, as I tend to do when I get into a story. Most the time I dont even know what the bejesus I'm typing. Just kinda.. go with the flow, y'know? Whatever... I'm tired of trying to explain stuff I dont claim to understand to people. ; Be kind and review okay?

I apoligze as every Pietro-fan should for killing poor Pie-chan. (sobs in front of Pietro-shrine) PLEASE FORGIVE ME O' LORD OF ALL THAT IS SUGARY AND HYPER-GOODNESS! I'll make it up to you, I swear! With maybe a nice romance or something. O.O; Come to think of it, I might just try that next. Never written anything romantic before. Hmm... were to begin... Be looking out for more fics by me, persons! Remember, DONT BE A SPONGE! (or a stranger, strangers are scary...)

Be happy.

Dont worry.

Be happy, dont worry.

Be HIPPIE! Erm... I mean HAPPY!

OR ELSE!

...YOU GET NO COOKIE!