All her life, Lorna had longed to belong somewhere. She’d desperately attempted to dye her hair, to hide the green hue and pretend she was normal. When her powers developed, she’d longed for her foster parents to accept her, been heartbroken when they hadn’t. She’d gone to the X-Men, pretended not to notice the way some of the younger kids looked at her with wide eyes and clenched teeth every time she moved something metal around or otherwise demonstrated her powers in the Danger Room. For a long time, she’d been willing to cut off pieces of herself in order to fit in, been willing to change who she was and pretend the people accepting her would have wanted her just as much if she hadn’t hidden those parts away.
Slowly, she’d realized that she deserved to be herself and be accepted and, unfortunately, that was when Magneto found her. He’d seen that vulnerability inside of her and preyed on it, told her that he knew who she was better than anyone and could help her be better. For the first time, Lorna hadn’t been ashamed of her powers. She’d felt strong, felt powerful and unapologetic at the same time. If she’d continued down that path, she had no doubt that she would have caved eventually, had no doubt that, given a little more time, she would have used her powers to send angry gunmen’s bullets back through their own chests, would have driven crowbars yielded by anti-mutant protesters into their own skulls. Was she a good person because she’d left the Brotherhood before that happened? She wasn’t sure. She thought the knowledge that that side of her existed might erase any opprotunity she ever might have had at anything like that.
“I’ve never been sure of that,” she replied with a dry laugh, shaking her head. “Not even once.” That was part of why she’d admired Pietro when she’d first met him, part of why she’d liked him so instantly. In retrospect, maybe it had been his blood calling out to hers, but at the time, Lorna had just liked how sure he seemed. He was who he was, and he hadn’t been making apologies for it. The attitude had seemed so unattainable, so unshakable. Then, it drove him to do awful, terrible things. She’d been jealous of the things that arguably made her brother into a villain, the qualities that allowed him to kill people without question. “I’m not sure we were protecting anyone,” she admitted. “I thought we were, but I think… I think he just told us whatever he wanted us to hear. I think he just wanted to make us feel like we were doing something right so we wouldn’t question him. And I guess it worked.”
Pietro was right, of course. They’d never know anything about where they came from unless Erik wanted them to know, and he’d never share the information with them without demanding something in return. Their father wasn’t the type to offer anything for free, even if he claimed he was. Every move he made was calculated. They’d all learned that the hard way. “I guess not. That —- That’s really fucked up.” It was obvious, but it needed saying. For all they knew, they could have had an army of half-siblings out there, and unless Magneto decided it benefited him to let them know, they never would. It was incredibly fucked up, and there wasn’t much they could do about it. Glancing up at the question, she offered him a small smile. “Right,” she agreed. She’d never belonged anywhere before, but maybe this was where she’d start. Maybe she could have something of a family with her siblings.
There was something in his eyes as he looked at her and, without knowing why, Lorna braced herself. It wasn’t enough. She winced minutely at the words, thinking of all the things he’d said to her. She was reminded of the snippets of memories from the flight her mother and stepfather had died on, of her mother’s words ringing through the plane while they fought. He made me feel special, she’d said, tears in her eyes at the confession. Apparently, he was good at that. “I don’t know what he believes,” she said quietly. “What he thinks he feels. But I don’t — He can’t. He can’t love us. You don’t do the things he’s done to us to someone you love. He doesn’t love any of us. He can’t.” Her voice was almost pleading because, in a way, she needed it to be true. She needed to think that they were nothing more than pawns to their father because, if they were more, it humanized him. It made him a man instead of a monster, and Lorna didn’t want that.
“For a second,” she replied. “After that, you’d feel bad.” She knew it was true, knew that no matter how much their father might deserve to die for what he’d done, it shouldn’t be Pietro that did it. He’d suffered enough because of Magneto, and he didn’t need to suffer any more. “She hasn’t told me about them,” she replied with a faint smile. “I bet they were, though. My foster parents, they were… They were good until they weren’t. When my mutation developed, I guess it was too much for them. I don’t even know if I can blame them.” Pausing, she glanced up, eyeing him uncertainly. “I think my biological mother was a good person. She made a mistake, but she wanted to make it right. To make up for it.” She looked down at her feet, closing her eyes and swallowing before adding, “I killed her. That’s the memory he took from me.”
When Pietro had arrived on Kate’s doorstep, ready to apologise just as she had said he would be all those months ago, he had told her that he still didn’t mind hurting people. He didn’t mind killing people, found nothing wrong with blood on his hands so long as it was unrepentant blood, blood that wasn’t worth saving once it was spilled. The Brotherhood, though, treated all humans as insects to be stepped on, things that didn’t need to be protected, people that they could ignore entirely. In that vein, there was no difference between how mutants treated humans and how they treated mutants for the past several centuries.
Pietro understood why people joined the Brotherhood specifically for that reason. He felt anger himself every single time he heard the word ‘mutie,’ every time a student returned to Xavier’s with tears in their eyes because the outside world didn’t welcome them as it should have. Pietro didn’t want to kill all humans - he had people that he loved, he had seen that there were humans out there who were willing to accept his people, that they were increasing in number every single day. He wanted to kill the humans that wanted to kill mutants, and that was all. Still, as time progressed, he realised that once again he had acted on impulse. He had jumped into something recklessly, he hadn’t considered it entirely, and he was trapped.
“You know where to draw the line, then,” Pietro said. “When to say that it’s been enough. I wish I could do that.” It was more of a confession than he had given most, but this woman, she was his sister. They might not have known that before, they might have been nothing more than acquaintances that were friendly from time to time, but they were blood. That counted for something. Magneto was blood, and for that reason, Pietro had been inclined to believe in him when he shouldn’t. He didn’t think Lorna was the same situation at all. Even if she was, he was willing to give her the time to prove that she was a complete dickhead. Hopefully that wouldn’t be the case. “We did take down some bad people,” Pietro said. “I took down some good people, too, which I’ll always regret but -- there were some terrible people out there, who wanted nothing more than to see all of us dead. Taking their lives isn’t something I’ll regret.”
Pietro had once wondered whether he was a complete and utter sociopath, because the blood that was on his hands because of Hydra had never bothered him. Now, he realised what the difference was. Back then, he had no choice. It was kill or be killed. Kill or watch his sister be in pain. Kill or be in pain himself. Hydra’s enemies were bad people as well, they did deserve to die, and although he felt sick at the fact he did it in their name, he didn’t resent the fact that he took them out. Innocent people, though, people that were killed only to get to other bigger threats, people that were killed as a message … Pietro felt the guilt eat away at him, and it was killing him a little more each and every day.
He took a sharp breath, listening to the desperation in Lorna’s voice, the certainty with which she spoke. “I …” Pietro cut himself off. He thought of all the things that he had done, from telling MJ that she must’ve never loved him the way she claimed, to fighting back against his sister, even if he had pulled his punches. “I think I’m the same?” Pietro said. It sounded like a question even to his own mind. It made him feel as if he had been punched in the gut by a genocidal robot, or like those bullets were tearing through him all over again. “I had people, people I loved more than anything, and I did some fucked up things. Said some fucked up things. Maybe -- maybe that’s what I got from him.” Maybe Pietro had never really known how to love someone. That didn’t seem possible, considering what he felt for Wanda in particular, but Magneto certainly thought he was acting out of something like affection, when all he was doing was breaking them in pieces.
“Would I?” Pietro asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t feel remorse for killing bad people, Lorna. Our father - if that’s what he wants to call himself - he’s a bad person, right? How could you feel bad for taking that out?” It wasn’t even a possibility. Pietro had trained under the man, had shown Magneto all of his cards, had trusted him with that. Magneto was insanely powerful, he was far more experienced, and that meant Pietro would definitely die trying. “Our parents put up with too much,” Pietro said. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out the weathered photograph he always kept folded with him, and showed it to Lorna. “They used to tell us we were meant for great things, both of us, even when I was a pain in the ass.” Those were the people Pietro wished he was from. At Lorna’s words, Pietro stilled. “You didn’t mean to,” he said, reading it from her expression, the shame, the guilt. “Right? You can’t blame yourself for something you didn’t mean to do. When did it happen?”
