The reveal finally happens! Erik Lehnsherr knows Pietro Maximoff is his son.
Peter just didn't expect it would be because Apocalypse injured him and his mom was called, leaving her and Erik to talk.
Of course, Peter too-drugged up on painkillers to even hear the juicy details. Not cool Hank!
Peter should have expected this, he really should have — just because he was an “adult” doesn’t mean that his mom wouldn’t be worried.
It certainly doesn’t matter that she was hours away, and surely busy with work. Because when she got a call about his broken leg and arm in a (definitely badass) fight she would never just go ‘huh, alright.’
No, Marya Maximoff, for all she’s Pietro Django Maximoff aunt by blood, she was his mom for all but 2 years of his life — so one can bet their ass that she would race over to Xavier’s Institute (breaking several speed limits undoubtedly) and march up to the front door with the fury of a mama bear facing any threats for her cubs.
Really, Peter should have seen this coming.
Unfortunately for him, his dad, ex(current?) terrorist Magneto, was still helping rebuild the school and thus in full view and revealed to the full fury of Marya Maximoff storming up to the front door. A woman he recognized on sight, despite the growing greys and new wrinkles on her bronze skin.
“Marya?” Erik asks in stunned surprise, his blue eyes like a cloudy sky — murky with past memories, “Is that you?”
Marya twisted back, withholding a snarl at the man who interrupted her path to her son, and fell back in shock when she looked at the man.
Her ex brother-in-law — the father she kept away from her son all these twenty-six years.
“Max Eisenhardt or is it Erik Lehnsherr or perhaps Henryk Gurzsky, or is it some new name now?” Marya spat, “Why in God’s name are you at this school? Didn’t you just try to destroy the world days ago?!”
Erik’s Adam apple bobbed as he wetted his lips to explain, “I-,” The words died in his throat as he eyed Marya’s stern glare and he bowed his head, “I’m helping rebuild the school.”
“Oh?” Marya raised a brow, “And why did the school need rebuilding in the first place?” The accusation was clear in her voice.
Unluckily, or perhaps luckily, Erik was interrupted by the newly-placed mahogany (Charles Xavier was rich after all) front door opening, and the bald man himself came wheeling out, “Marya Maximoff, if you would please follow me, your son is conscious now and probably would be best if you come and explain why he should stay off his legs for a bit longer. Since he found out you were coming, he’s been buzzing with energy and quite frankly isn’t what you would call a rule-follower.” Charles chuckled fondly at that remission on the teen that broke into the pentagon all for the thrill of his kleptomaniac heart.
Marya’s eyes softened with relief upon hearing her son was up, and her lips quirked up with fond exasperation, “That boy,” She doesn’t give Magento a second glance and looks imploringly at Charles Xavier, “Please. I would appreciate seeing Peter now.”
‘Peter?’ Erik thought silently to himself, and oh the memories of the silver-haired boy flew by him. Of the boy — who was the first person to smile nicely at him in ten years and free him from the pentagon. Of the boy that never looked at Erik like he was a monster, even when he was set to destroy the world.
“I’m your… I’m here for family too.”
“I’m holding your neck so you don’t get whiplash,”“Whip…laaaaaaaaaash.”
“They told me you control metal.”
“You know, my mom once knew a guy who could do that.”
“Oh,” Erik gasped softly, ‘Even after everything the boy still thought of us as family… my nephew.”
Tears line his eyes at the thought. The peace and joy he felt with Magna — of being welcomed into the Maximoff family. Of having his first daughter Anya… until it all went in flames — literally.
Erik doesn’t blame Magna for leaving. Even if he still holds the belief that all those humans deserved to die for killing his baby — just as the ones who killed his dear Nina and his second-wife (coincidentally named) Magna. He should have controlled his anger and showed that he would have never hurt his wife despite his feelings on other humans.
Alas, that’s all in the past now, and he can do nothing but regret and drown in the pain of his past — hoping to repent for all his sins.
Peter found himself bounding with overwhelming energy. He needed to move… everything was just so slow! But he was trapped in the damned infermany on ‘doctor’s’ orders! Hank’s not even that kind of doctor!
But whatever, Peter just has to wait minutes (hours to him) and his mom will be here. She’s already called ahead that she was at the front gate.
Peter found his good leg bouncing and vibrating on the tile before him.
“Peter!” Hank sternly called, “No powers! We don’t want your metabolism to increase more than it already has and wear off the painkillers in your system.”
Peter sheepishly stopped vibrating in place, but he still couldn’t help but fidget.
He needed to move, like a fish needs water. It was torturous to keep him in one place for so long! Torture!
“It’s not torture Peter,” Hank rolls his eyes.
“Oh, I said that outloud didn’t I?” Peter said, keeping his words slow (it’s practically second nature now) so Hank could understand.
“Yes, Peter,” Hanks said amused, “And oh, look your mom and professor are already here. She can now scold you about not using your powers.”
Peter slumped down dramatically in the medical bed, but smiled as his mom came into view, “That’s not fair man, sicking my mom on me like that!”
Marya rolled her eyes, “Peter, you can handle staying still for a week. You’re just lucky your bones heal so fast.”
Marya smiles, seeing that her son is alright and will fully recover. However, Hank soon puts him on more painkillers as Peter grimaces in pain.
Unfortunately that also has the effect of making Peter incredibly sleepy and he soon passes out, which leaves Marya to have the much needed adult conversation now that she knows her son is alright.
Oh, if Peter wasn’t already so injured, she would grab him by the ear and give him an earful of his impulsive decisions and endangering his life, but for now all Marya can do is thank God that he is alright and that her baby returned to her.
And Max! Ugh, if he wasn’t Peter’s father Marya would kill that man!
Marya soon found himself making a coffee upstairs, doing her best to stay away after hours of driving. As much as she would love to fall asleep, she knows that her Lorna will be calling her soon — and despite knowing Peter is fine, she still is on edge. A mother’s plight, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if it came attached to the incredible but dangerous heritage that is Magneto.
And speak of the devil! Max decides to appear right in the kitchen.
Marya sighs and just asks, “Why did you do it?” There’s no need to explain what the ‘it’ is — ending the world is a pretty big neon sign after all.
She needs to know what in God’s name made him want to end the world. She has an idea, a horrible one. But she recognizes the kind of rage that Max went through — the kind of a parent’s loss, the soul aching pain that makes the world seem worthless.
Marya grips her coffee closer, biting her lip to stop tears from forming as she thinks of Wanda, her oldest (‘Only by 12 minutes!’ Peter would remind her). Even after 14 years… it still feels so fresh.
Erik looks up at the ceiling full of anguish, “Humans killed my daughter and wife.”
Marya stares blankly at her cooling drink, her lips feeling quite dry and she chucks the drink like a shot and stares right into Erik’s steely eyes, “Tell me about them.” She asks softly, her tone rekindling of the family she once was to the broken man.
Erik smiles sadly, “After your son broke me out of the pentagon, and I failed in killing the president-”
“Really, what’s up with you and US presidents?” Marya jokes, despite the seriousness of such a task, but she held no love for Nixon — his derogatory views for Jews enough for that opinion to form. Sure, she was Romani, but it sure didn’t make a difference to Nazi’s when they rounded up all the ‘bad bloods’. And she would fight tooth and nail before letting another drag her people — through suffering and loss and pain — through the mud.
She’s had a lifetime enough of being seen as the ‘inferior people’, and she absently rubs her forearm — the faded inked numbers still scarred into her skin.
Erik gives her a half smile, “Yes, well I did try to save JFK. He was a mutant after all. But Nixon…,” Erik scowled, and oh Marya knew that look, “He was trying to eradicate all of us just because we were born with a gift! Trying to kill us like cattle to slaughter and we are the Homo superiors — the next step in evolution!”
“Chill it with the speech Magneto.” Marya said dryly, “And sit your ass down, or is talking to your ex-human-sister-in-law too demeaning for you?”
Erik paused, his skin heated with embarrassment, and gracefully sat down, “My apologies Marya. I’m just rather… passionate about mutant rights as all mutants should be.”
“Yeah, well after seeing you talk all about your superiority on live-television in front of my mutant son who happens to love his very human little sister and mom, Peter wasn’t exactly in agreement with you.” Marya responded with a bit of a bite.
Erik sighs, “I never have the right words. Magna surely would have.” Then, he grimaces, “My latest wife that is, not that my first wife wouldn’t have. She would have just been-”
“A spit-fire.” Marya laughs, “Yeah Wanda inherited that from her.”
Marya’s face pales and she bites her lip, “Peter’s twin.” She looked down, shallowing hard.
“I’m sorry,” Erik says, knowing all too-well that like his Nina her Wanda died, “Nina was only eight.”
Marya sighs and looks over to Erik. She sees so much of the man, her brother-in-law, that she once knew. There’s still that anger coiled in his veins, but there’s also that deep-rooted anguish and love for his family.
“Max, I have something to tell you.” Marya said, straightening her back. She knows that Peter desperately wanted his father to know of their relationship — how he spoke up it with such longing, but was afraid of her reaction when she demanded he stay away.
This is her duty to her son, and it’s Erik’s choice how he'll react after. She just hopes she’s right about this, as much as part of her is screaming not not saying anymore.
“Peter and Wanda were Magna’s Erik.” Marya spoke, her words like an admission of guilt.
Erik stood stoically freezing in place, his face impassive — not letting an ounce of… anything through.
Marya looked at the man sadly, “She didn’t know she was pregnant at the time, but then… the fire happened and you left and she was scared.”
“Then, nine months Wanda Marya Maximoff was born first followed by Pietro Django Maximoff. And God,” Marya let out a wet chuckle, “Wanda looked so much like Anya, and Peter was a mini-you minus his brown eyes and nose.”
Erik let out a stuttering breath — he felt like he'd just been punched as he listened to Marya. Even if he wished to rage against her words, deny it all. He knows it’s true.
And just like that he feels grief overwhelm him. Another child died, and he never even knew her. His daughter. A son was almost killed because of him.
Anya, Nina, Wanda, Pietro.
Their names like a damnation upon him.
His oldest daughter disappeared before his eyes like ash. Dark charcoal leaving nothing of her beautiful smile behind. Only screams that haunted his nightmares.
He feels Marya’s arms wrap around him as he lets out choking, raspy, sobs.
His youngest’s eyes turned vividly blue in fear as he tried to appeal to the human authority. But she couldn’t control her powers and her blue eyes dimmed as her blood soaked the ground. Just gone.
He feels her tears wet his shirt, and just-like-always he pulls away.
Wanda, another child. A daughter he only knew by name, but he can imagine her playing with her sisters. Wracking up some mischievous scheme with her twin.
He hardly knows what he’s doing as he storms around Charles’ mansion, until he finds himself outside the medical bay.
Not even noticing as Marya followed close behind.
Erik looks at the unconscious boy — no man, no matter how young he still is, he’s an adult now (twenty-six years of never knowing, of being in his own son’s life) — and he allows himself to see himself in his own son. They have the same cheekbones and chin, and his eyes curve just like his while his eyes and nose are all Magna’s. Along with his shock of silver-hair all his own that frames his young face.
Erik didn't notice when tears started falling down his eyes again or when Marya gripped his hand tightly, but he couldn’t stop.
He’s failed another child. He almost let his own son die.
Erik can hear his son’s screams as his bones were shattered… and Erik looked away, content to do nothing!
The metal begins to warp and rattle in his vicinity.
His son’s brow furrows in his sleep at the noise, and Erik takes a deep breath in and controls himself.
Perhaps, it was for the best that Erik never knew of their relationship — that the boy was kept hidden from it, or he would surely have been destroyed by being in Erik’s presence.
It was only when they were apart, after all, that let the boy live to adulthood — and only when Erik was around the boy that he was put in danger.
Really, how reckless was it to allow a sixteen year old to break a terrorist out of the pentagon? To break him out of the pentagon?
And then, because the boy was simply seeking Erik out, he almost died because Erik was wrapped in a foolish plot with a delusional ‘mutant god’.
It would be better for everyone involved if Erik simply stayed away.
“Dad?” A drowsy voice spoke, and Erik's eyes snapped into focus to clearly see his son.
His son’s brown eyes were clearly foggy, and he wasn’t all lucid with the frankly unbelievable amount of drugs being pumped through him to keep the pain away — but he still, on some level, recognized Erik.
That word felt like an arrow through the heart and Erik didn’t have to think before he sat before his son’s bedside and gripped his limp hand, “Yes, Pietro, I’m here. Mein Sohn.”
Peter blinked slowly, his brow furrowed a bit in confusion before he smiled, “That’s good dad. Love you.”
Erik shakily breathed in, as his son’s eyes fluttered close, and he kissed his son’s brow, “I love you too my boy. Mein Wundersohn.”
Marya smiled at the precious moment and she-for-once would admit she was wrong about this. Erik would never harm Peter, and as Erik fell asleep at Peter’s bedside holding his son's hand like a lifeline, Marya knew she was leaving her son in good hands.
I absolutely love how this turned out! Also, I am currently so obsessed with Dadneto so I was super excited that House of Dadneto 2025 event is still ongoing!