fastassilver·:
He is aware of the people who pull him back, who hold onto him as tight as they can, as they shout at him and call him rotten names. He knows all of this, and knew that this would be the response that he triggered in these people.But he also does not care, and he knows that they will not be able to stop him from leaving. They were just normal people, and he could have broken free at any time. “I am not,” and he spits at Erik. Someone steps up to block his view, but Pietro only raises his voice, louder and louder to ensure that Erik can hear him. They are both doing a fairly good job of ignoring the people who get between them. Pietro makes a strong effort to not think about how that shows just another way that they are alike. “My father was Django Maximoff. He raised me, he told me stories, he watched my ball games in the school yard. You are just some bastard who fucked some woman. Who also was not my mother.” With a jerk of his arms, he’s freed. He zips around the patrons crowded Erik, hears their gasps and their cries for help. The seirns of the police car are just outside of the little cafe now. “I know who my parents were. We may have genetics, but you are nothing to me.” And then he turns, and runs as fast as he possibly can.
Their meeting in the coffee shop had not gone the way that Erik would have wished it. He had concerned, of course, the way that he considered everything, the fact that Pietro may be less than thrilled to meet his father. But to be outright rejected? In such a violent way? It was something that Erik had not thought likely in the moments before he had first spoken to the boy. Afterwards, it was all that he could think about. How brash and angry the boy had been. How he had been so quick to violent rejection of something that should have brought him joy? After all, had not the twins spent years angry over the death of their so-called parents? Should it not be to their happiness that the grief is corrected? Should not Pietro look at him with gratitude for arriving and for providing him with the father figure role model that he so clearly needed? The boy had no control over his impulses - he needed a man like Erik to show him better ways of dealing with things. Erik returns home, and rethinks his plan. He had seen much in the boy’s behaviour to tell him what Pietro may respond better to. Erik would simply have to present the facts in a way that the boy would actually care to listen to, and then Pietro would see his way. It was the truth, and only Pietro’s childish anger blinded him to it. One of the first things that Erik had done when finding himself in the new city was to connect with the mutants, and to rebuild his network. It’s through those connections that he hears of where Pietro is living, and what time that the boy is normally home. During one such evening, Erik unlocks the apartment building front door, and rides the elevator up to Pietro’s floor. He knocks.
