Some Say the World Will End in Fire

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro knew that as well, though part of him desired to spare her this, the rest of him knew she was needed in battle. One hand slipped from hers, reached for the bottle of vodka.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

She pulled the bottle away from his hand, taking another gulp of the burning liquid, before handing it back to him. "I think I've had enough of that," she said.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro took a sip, welcoming the sensation as it burned his throat. For him, there was never enough, and that was not an admission of alcoholism. Silence and time stretched on. In a situation like this one, generally there would be a toast, but he had nothing to drink to, nothing to celebrate. As he and Wanda were being honest, he decided to bare a bit more of himself, of his thoughts.:: "Do you think instability is genetic?"

[Wanda Maximoff]

She frowned slightly. In her partially inebriated state, it took her longer to decipher what he was asking her. "I'm not sure," she said finally. "Why do you ask?" Her accent was noticeably heavier now, as it always was when she consumed alcohol.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Wanda's accent had thickened, Pietro noticed, which meant he would need to slow himself even further to continue this conversation. It might not be fair to her to delve into these thoughts, when she could not follow, and he hesitated, only briefly, before deciding to continue.:: "Magneto is insane and sometimes I fear that I..."

[Wanda Maximoff]

"You are afraid that you will follow?" She asked quietly. Even though she was inebriated, that issue came to her mind crystal clear.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro nodded, before taking another sip from the vodka. The thoughts would keep him awake at night, if he were not already on watch. Instead, they kept him company and made him doubt himself further.:: "Yes."

[Wanda Maximoff]

"Do you think that I will, as well?" She asked softly. Too often she had wondered, though Pietro took their father's image, she had taken his internal rage and insanity, because she often felt she might lose a part of herself someday.

[Pietro Maximoff]

"No," ::Pietro said, shaking his head. Wanda was gentle, and despite the chaos of her powers, she was far more stable than he was. Never did he question that she had escaped Magneto's influence.::

[Wanda Maximoff]

"Then why?" She asked. She meant to ask why he thought he took after their father when she did not, but her words weren't measured or careful.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro dropped his gaze from his sister's eyes, focusing instead on the bottle of vodka and the ground beneath them. He did not want to answer, because once the gates opened, he did not think he could reign himself in.:: "Wanda...I..."

[Wanda Maximoff]

She used her free hand to rest against his cheek, to bring his gaze back to look at her. "Pietro, please," she said softly.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::With her encouragement, Pietro shifted his gaze, once more meeting his sister's eyes. The hand which still rested on the grass curled into a fist from the emotional strain.:: "There is a rage inside me that grows with each day...and I fear I will explode from it."

[Wanda Maximoff]

Her eyes conveyed her poorly conserved fear, sadness, and understanding. "We all have rage, sometimes, Pietro..." she began.

[Pietro Maximoff]

::Pietro shook his head. She needed to let him finish, and this was not a normal rage. Not of the sort that each felt. He doubted that any other obsessed over it, nearly fantasized about it, calculated how many lives he could take before he lost his own.:: "It eclipses everything, Wanda...I can't relax, and I can't calm it."