A Change Is Gonna Come

[swiftargyros]

Characters: Hank McCoy, Wanda Frank, Pietro Maximoff
Date & Time: September 30th, mid-morning
Setting: NYC
Summary: Those first steps are always a doozy.
Rating: PG-13 but subject to change
Status: Semi-Closed

Comments

[chaosmagus]

Wanda laughed, a bright, sharp sound in the mid-morning air. He dodged her light-hearted swat to his shoulder, but she had somewhat expected that. “Некако мислим да ћете преживети мало потцењивачки. Шта са неразређен таленат,” she teased. “It’s still an advantage, however.”

She tucked her fingerless-gloved hands into her trench coat pockets, and huffed a few loose strands of hair out of her eyes. She was already trying to figure out where they should go next. She knew where she wanted to go; she wanted to go HOME. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until they were certain that no one was following them. That they were safe. Until then it was temporary safe havens and out of the way places.

“It is,” she replied quietly. It hadn’t been a surprise to her that they were leaving; in fact she found herself wondering if they hadn’t waited too long to vacate their temporary home. This was something she was accustomed to; she had been on the move often before. She had had to be, after everything that had happened at home. Wanda smiled and slipped her arm through his. “I’m all right. Имао сам много, много година праксе.. I look forward to being able to wear shoes that are more... me.” Shoes that were appropriate for fighting in. Not that she couldn’t in this particular pair of boots, but it always frustrated her to get caught in a battle in shoes that were less sensible than they ought to be. They weren’t nearly as high as Pietro was making them out to be, however.

[swiftargyros]

They neared the street and Pietro gently put his arm out, slowing Wanda in an absent way. "Ah, shoes like you," he nodded, looking down the road after the traffic. "So you are normally wearing bossy shoes?"

There was no doubt that of the pair of them, Wanda was more inclined to toss out directions. It was charming, in a way - though Pietro doubted he would have found it so if he hadn't been naturally an easygoing soul. Of course, except for their escape when emotions had run high and loose, the pair of them had not been in an exactingly stressful environment. He wondered if that would make a difference. Between his tendency to grow dangerously focused and her sheer voracity, there was the potential for a massive explosion.

For now at least it was nothing they had been forced to discover. All there was to combat was where their next refuge would be. With the city becoming an all-approved stalking ground and hunting season wide open, their best bet was to untangle themselves from the concrete jungle entirely. Pietro despised the fact that he was in such a strange place, the out of sorts feeling of being on foreign soil even more frustrating when the stakes were so high.

But traveling? Ah, now that was something he was good at. The Maximoffs were a migratory cavalcade, seized with wanderlust and able to linger at the edges of many different worlds without detection. There were advantages to having grown up in such a transitory society.

"Ako mi glava Zapadu, mi sami ostaviti dosta opcija. Verovatno nas očekuju da ostanu negde gužva, gde možemo juriti oko kao pacovi. Poslednje mesto oni će misliti da bi glava za će bitizemlja," Pietro commented as they paced over the crosswalk and melted into the uptown-bound crowds. "Although, Vanda, I would not mind if they choose to show their faces again. I will pokazuju oni gadovi da se ne poigrava našim vrste i izvući se."

[donotmockme]

Had it been fifteen or fifty years later, Hank would be the sort of man to be walking down the street speaking on his cell phone or reading some strange form of GPS device. As it was, he was attempting the very next best thing. There had been strange readings legible as far as Winchester, and after what he had heard from some of the younger mutants? Hank was not about to risk anyone else chasing down these readings.

His head, buried in the map and walkie-talkie-esque device, he had little notion of anything else about him besides the feet passing next to him. So close... he was what. At most, three blocks away? Any moment now...

[chaosmagus]

Wanda mock-glared at him and then proceeded to elbow him in the ribs. Made all the easier by the fact that her arm was looped through his. He called it bossy... she called it decisive. Tenacious. Possibly with a bit of impatient tossed in. If she HADN’T been, well Pietro would probably still be in the cell, under the ‘tender’ care of mutant-hunting robots. “Следећи пут смо у тесном месту ћу вам омогућити да пронађете сопствени излаз, смартасс,” she told him, grinning in amusement.

As they walked their steps fell into a sort of syncopated rhythm, moving in time with each other as if they’d always done so. It was yet another indicator of the strange familiarity which was so evident between the two of them. No one paid them any mind as they blended seamlessly into the crowds, for which she was grateful. She had been worried that even the with the hair dye that someone would recognize him.

“West it is then,” she replied quietly. “I wouldn’t mind, either. Волео бих ништа више него да их на комаде и видим да их спали.”

[swiftargyros]

Pietro was not so proud that he could not afford to grant other's their due credit but there was something to be said about accuracy. He fixed Wanda with a judicious expression, one pale brow ticking up toward his hairline. The look was softened by the quirk that Pietro couldn't quite keep from his lips and the sparkle in his eyes. "The way I am recalling, you opened the door but I got us away. Next time I will care for the explosions and you carry me, da?"

He had no illusions that his escape had been expedited by Wanda - the ability to conjure projectiles was helpful in this regard - but Pietro was not about to let the other mutant get away with playing the part of sole saviour. She'd be insufferable. There was a particular intensity to Wanda's precociousness that Pietro had found vaguely recognizable and he realized now where he'd seen it before: the Forest Wolves that hunted on the outskirts of the campgrounds that were his boyhood homes had always tried to press forward and edge closer to the boundary laid around the gathered caravans. It was a part of their nature, an irrepressible urge to cast their net of dominance over anything within range and the only way to combat it had been to show them, swiftly and decisively, that you could not be governed by their ways. While this was slightly less vital to his imminent survival (he could hardly picture Wanda lunging for his jugular), Pietro knew that if he didn't dig his heels in, he would be a goner. All women were the same way. Wanda was just more...concentrated.

As they carried on their way the warm smell of fresh-baked bread drifted over, yeasty and faintly sweet with the promise of a full belly. Pietro glanced across the street and noted the bagel shop tucked beside a shoe repair store. They probably had coffee, too. That was one of the fantastic things about New York City, they knew how to make good, hearty bread and strong coffee. It was just the thing needed to start a day out right.

Pietro nudged Wanda. "A truce between our warring nations, come, I will take you for breakfast," he teased warmly. "We will need our strength if we are going to -"

Whatever the Serbian had been about to say was abruptly cut off as a sudden, violent streak of light razed by with furious heat and fired into the building to their right, sending up a shower of brick and dust. Pietro swore and tugged Wanda down, shielding her face and head with his arms as he ducked. What the hell? Casting a wild eye about, Pietro felt the thud of his heart skipping a beat and catching up in a rush as he spied it:

There, in the center of the street turning a slow, ominous circle so that it's glowing sights were fixed on them, was one of the strange robots.

"Da li ste jebeno šališ? Lepo vreme, seronjo!" Pietro shouted, voice rising above the startled yells from the surrounding pedestrian traffic. This was no place for a showdown, hemmed in as they were. Another curse saw him turning on agile limbs to start running and Pietro pressed Wanda forward, hands urgent on her back. "Go. Go!"

[donotmockme]

Hank first heard the robot, rather than seeing it. The screams of civilians and the clanking of the metal was enough to send even the most hard-pressed researcher into goosebumps. Hank? Oh he had them in plenty.

It appeared to be a mix of every 50's childhood nightmare and a drawing a colleague had thrown together a few years back. Something for the jar-heads of Washington to use to chase down possible renegades. Never once did Hank think it would be himself that could be a possible target- never mind the two terrified teenagers that just found themselves in the light across the street.

They couldn't have been more than twenty each, a dark haired pair that protected each other and yelled words that Hank was unable to hear from the distance of the street. Though he was no hero, already he was toeing off the leather of his loafers to get better traction naturally. He probably couldn't out-run everything, but a huge hunk of metal?

Well. He at least hoped as much.

Not entirely sure of what he was thinking, Hank sprinted towards the pair with arms tucked in tight, a linebacker's position to protect his precious instruments. Catching up along side them, he gave the boy a hard look and a finger towards the right- an alley that if he remembered correctly.. ought to have an outlet. "Can you run?"

[chaosmagus]

Wanda rolled her eyes good-naturedly and laughed. “I was more speaking of the impetus to escape, rather than the escape itself. I won’t deny your participation in that.” She had wondered, shortly after being deposited abruptly into the cell with him, if he would have EVER endeavoured to escape had she not sped things along. Or would he simply have waited?

Now, however, the answer to those questions didn’t matter in the slightest. And the fact was that she wouldn’t leave him behind. Not until it was safe for them to go their separate ways. Hopefully by then she would have figured why there was such an easy familiarity between them.

She smirked up at him as he nudged her, about to interrupt him when something else did it for her. With a brilliant flash of light and a rush of heat the building to their right exploded in a shower of brick and dust. She had seen something similar before, that night out with Clint when everything had gone horribly wrong. There was a spate of cursing in her ear as Pietro tugged her down, shielding her. Her fists were clenched, the faintest glow surrounding them until she instinctively realised what she was doing and forced herself to release the energy she had been gathering and forming into a hex. Now was not the time to lose control.

“Јебени пакао!” she hissed sharply, twisting to look for what she already knew was there. She moved almost in unison with him, her gaze landing on the robot in the centre of the street at the same moment. “Савршена јебено време, ви роботски говно.” They couldn’t do anything here, they were too hemmed in. There were too many bystanders. Fuck. She didn’t need Pietro telling her twice, or at all for that matter. Even as his hands pressed urgently at her back she was already turning lithely and dashing through the startled crowd.

What she DIDN’T expect was the stranger who sprinted up beside them. He was lucky; she tamped down on her instinctive response to defend herself and throw a hex. At his question her eyes flicked to Pietro momentarily, and a grin flashed across her face, a quick showing of teeth. “Yes, we can run.” There was a touch of sarcasm to her voice, as was wont to happen when someone asked a question that the answer was a bit obvious to in the middle of a stressful situation.

[swiftargyros]

Before Pietro could answer the bespectacled newcomer, a second laser was fired and this time it skimmed past close enough that he felt the heat brush against his skin like the whisper of a razor blade. The Serbian's voice cut off in a sharp breath as he arched back, spinning to avoid being pelted by the debris that rained down. Apparently there was no such thing as a fighting chance with these mechanical bloodhounds.

"The question is not can we run, it is why aren't you?!" Pietro shouted back, jerking a half-nod toward the alley in confirmation as he instinctively shoved Wanda and the other boy towards it. Threading through the panicking crowd made it difficult to reach but it also provided a little cover for them from the pursuing combatant. By the time they reached the mouth of the alcove, it was clear that time was not on their side. They needed a distraction.

He shed his coat fluidly and tossed it to one side as they bolted down the narrowed causeway, keeping his speed in check so as not to arouse any antagonistic suspicion. Before he did anything, Pietro needed to make sure that loose ends were cared for.

"Vanda, nastavi!" Pietro yelled as he took a flying leap over a heap of decaying pallets and jerked sharply to the left to avoid hitting the side of a dumpster. He glanced at Hank, face intense and alight with the fierce thrill of determination. "Do not let her talk you into stopping, my friend! Run!"

And then all bets were off. Pietro grinned and ripped off his cap, gunning forward on feet that flew so fast they were no longer visible. The stiff smack of wind whipping past his face was a sweet, familiar caress, all the tethers that bound him to the surface of the earth snapping as he dove headlong into the deep, swift-flowing river of power that frothed below his easy nature. Pietro let go and the rest of the world was left behind in a blur, the wake of his speed disturbing a sheaf of papers that spewed tornado-like behind him.

This sort of running didn't even leave him breathless but the stakes had his heart pounding in exhilarated tension. Pietro reached the far end of the alley in a matter of seconds and with a quick scan, he spied the dull stack of a fire escape leading to the top of the building. Without hesitating the boy jumped up and grabbed hold, pulling himself up with easy grace until his feet hit the first rung and he could clamber up.

Their little friend could only concentrated on one group of them at a time and it's mistake was watching straight ahead and not casting a ruby red eye to the skies above.

Pietro bolted across the roof of the brownstone, pebbles skittering beneath his feet, running back toward Hank and Wanda. Just a little closer, he pleaded mentally, arms pumping as he watched the chase intently, gauging their momentum and calculating his own. They only needed to bring the bastard close enough for it to count. Come on, nearly there...

And then everything seemed to slow down for one split-second, the axis of the earth grinding to a halt as the mechanisms all clicked into place until the moment rose to a perfect, complete alignment. Pietro let out a roar and threw himself over the edge of the building, arms outstretched and legs peddling in the air as he hurtled toward the Sentinel like a missile launched from above.

[donotmockme]

Hank could run, and he could run fast, but even in his bare-footed glory, he had nothing on that brunette kid. There was no question that the targets were mutants, which only proved the information he had collected was true. So very, very true. He reached for Wanda's arm, not entirely sure how he'd protect her should it be needed, but by far doing much more than the boy who had sprinted ahead after yelling in what must have been Russian or some Slavic language.

The civilians were sprinting in every direction, and it didn't take too long before the robot (Sentienal? Was that the term?) set it's gaze on Hank and the girl.

Dr. Henry McCoy. Physical mutation. Military dissident Threat Level: High. Capture Priority: #7

"Military dissident?" Hank mumbled, questioning the logic behind that as he turned towards the thing momentarily. He was just about to argue that fact when there was a movement above the beast. Pietro shot from the higher elevation like a rocket, and the best Hank could do was watch because damn - there was no question.

These kids were coming back with him to the mansion when this was over.

[chaosmagus]

“Pietro, NO!” Wanda shouted, unable to do anything but WATCH as he ran off, his cap dropping to the ground. The fool boy was going to get himself KILLED. Don’t you dare die, she thought darkly, her mind racing to come up with something to help keep the idiot among the living. She couldn’t catch up with him, that was an impossibility with as fast as he ran. He was on his own for the time being.

Which left her and the stranger on the ground. She moved out of his reach without thinking, eyes not moving from the robot in front of them. Much to her surprise it set its gaze on the two of them... and then its monotone recitation of name and barebones information wasn’t hers. Her head snapped towards the man standing beside her for a moment, eyes widened in surprise, and then she was moving again, shifting to stand in front of him. She would be damned if she let one of those things take someone like her.

Pietro was on his own.

But she could still do something for the man behind her.

She dashed forward, dropping down and grabbing a loose, discarded piece of concrete in one fluid motion. With a strong, practiced arm she threw her makeshift projectile at the robot, slamming the concrete hard into the side of its body. “That’s right. Keep your eyes on me,” she muttered. If she could keep its attention away focused on her then Pietro could do whatever foolish idea he’d gotten into his head.

Fist clenched and glowing brightly, she stood before the enemy, head held high, chin raised in challenge. And that was when her compatriot moved, flinging himself at the robot from above, a human projectile hell-bent on striking their metallic foe.

[swiftargyros]

Pietro`s body was a thing of irrefutable beauty. It wasn`t arrogance or vanity that decreed it so but rather the necessity of his mutation. The outside was nothing to scoff at but it was the internal construction of the Serbian`s frame that was truly a marvel of engineering. One did not simply run at triple-digit speeds and thank the leading sporting goods manufacturers for their nifty shoes. There came a point where it did not matter what you wore but rather how you were made. Pietro`s musculoskeletal system was created to absorb the extreme impact of upwards of thirty footfalls per second, his lungs adapted to process oxygen at a rate that meant his bloodstream wouldn`t be flooded with nitrogen, his skin able to handle the force of high speed velocity without protection, his metabolism so efficient that virtually nothing he ate was wasted.

But no matter how incredible his construction, hitting a solid wall of steel at a hundred miles and hour fucking hurt.

Pietro`s shout came to a jagged, violent stop as he collided with the Sentinel in a staggering blow. His face smacked against the textured side panel and there was a dull snapping sound, a waterlogged twig cracking in two; he felt his cheekbone give and the sofft, slippery slide of skin going suddenly loose. The robot veered sharply into the side of the alley, not prepared for the added weight and astonishing momentum of it`s mutant projectile. A shower of bricks hailed down into the narrow space and Pietro had a moment to enjoy the thrill of victory before his grip went slack and he slid off the rounded dome of the Sentinel, falling the last ten feet or so and landing in a dazed heap on the filthy ground.

[donotmockme]

Having spent time around other mutants for the last several months, Hank ran to the aid of the other man without hesitation, confident that the girl could handle herself for long enough. The boy had bought them all precious time, and it was that time he was going to use.

"Come on." He told the semi-conscious body, hefting him over his shoulder with more ease than a nerd ought to have. He didn't know how long it would take before the Sentinel would throw another round at him, but nor was he in such an interest of study that he was willing to stick around. This was the second one in as many months, and Hank knew that there would be another chance for study again.

"Miss- it's time to go!" He called out, turning to look at her over his shoulder, "I've got a place we can get to!"

He didn't know if they would trust him enough to come along, or if he should even trust them, but the choice had to be made. Besides, they already knew his name, title and class of his mutation. What else did he have to hide at this point?

[chaosmagus]

Wanda watched in horrified silence as Pietro slammed into the robot at an incredible rate of speed. Pietro you stupid idiot. His attack caught it by surprise, sending it careening into the side of the alley and showering the ground with bricks and dust. Then he was sliding off of the metallic dome where he had impacted with it and landing in a crumpled heap at the other side of the robot.

Her gaze lingered on him for a long moment, before slowly sliding up to the walking pieces of metal that had brought the mutant to a screeching halt. “You just made a fatal mistake.” Her fists clenched, and the light emanating from them grew brighter. She ignored the stranger - Henry McCoy, if the fucking robot wasn’t mistaken, which she was fairly certain it wasn’t. He was aiding Pietro, which was a relief. But she wasn’t leaving this alley until she had torn a piece of this thing out of its metallic hide.

“ Шта је мој ниво опасности, сероњо,” she retorted sharply, voice dark and full of the promise of violence. She was sure that Howard would appreciate a piece of one of these monstrosities to study. And she would be more than happy to get it for him.

I have to lead it away from them, she realised. Couldn’t risk harming either of them. So she gestured, throwing the smallest hex sphere she could manage to the right of the robot. It exploded, knocking it to the left just a bit. It turned, slowly getting her in its sights once more. “Atta boy,” she muttered quietly, backing down the alley and keeping one eye on the pair behind it. Just a little bit further...

Once the distance was great enough she suddenly reversed her direction. With a flick of her fingers and a twist of her wrist Wanda gestured, the glowing around her hands almost blinding now as she ran, leaping almost preternaturally high into the air. Then she thrust her hands sharply at her target, slamming them into its side...

And the world went white for a moment.

The explosion flung her backwards, away from the robot and into the opposite side of the alley. Metal shrapnel tore into her as she slammed hard into the bricks and slid down to the ground. “Fuck,” she hissed, feeling blood trickle down her face from somewhere near her hairline. She could take stock of her injuries later, AFTER she had taken care of this thing. She struggled to her feet, the world tilting dizzily for a moment. Her fist clenched again, the glowing fainter than it was before.

There was a large gaping hole in the side of the robot, sparks and smoke billowing from its injury. With a groan it slowed, and then stopped completely. The glow faded from her fists, and with a bit of effort she relaxed them just a bit. Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, she limped over to where it lay. Crouching down (the world spun like a carnival ride when she did), Wanda studied the inside thoughtfully for a moment, before reaching in and wrenching out a few components; one of which looked rather important.

With that task completed, she made her way over to the stranger and Pietro. She was wary... but this Henry McCoy had helped him, and for that... She could give him this chance. “Where is it you’re suggesting?” she asked quietly.

[swiftargyros]

Pietro groaned lowly as he was hefted up, the vague notion that it was somewhat unbelievable that such a gangly figure could even carry him at all flitting about his mind like a loose bird. It got tangled in other thoughts that were rattling about, absentminded little segues about toast and how he really liked the colour blue and that the masonry here in America was an absolute disgrace to the European versions it was trying poorly to imitate. The Serbian gave Hank's back an appreciative pat. "Imate fudbal ramena, to je dobro," Pietro murmured. This all felt very familiar. Had they been in a fight?

His poor, scrambling mind was spared the indignity of having to reroute itself onto the proper path by a rather spectacular interruption. Even as dazed as he was, Pietro instinctively jerked back to cognizance as the explosion rocked the narrow alleyway. He stiffly wrestled against his potato-sack position, hands scrabbling at Hank's back as he half-rolled and partially launched himself out of the other man's grip. Pietro landed in a heavy crouch, hands lifting to cover his head and neck as the Sentinel kissed the sky in a rainstorm of component pieces.

"Fuck a duck," The Serbian breathed, one of the more humourous American phrases he'd learned in the month or so that he had been in the country. He glanced at the dark-haired man, surprise clouding his dazed eyes. "Vanda!" Pietro shouted, pushing to a shaky standing position. He swayed a little, and reached out to clasp a hand on Hank's shoulder. Speaking hurt, was a little slurred with the way his left cheek had slid apart like melting butter. "Hey, my friend, hvala, you are very much helping, only you are supposed to be long gone with her."

The young man limped across the alley, muttering in Serbian until he was close enough to not have to shout, meeting her as she approached. "Glupo, glupo devojka! Rekao sam vam da pokrenete ,vi ste gluvi? U Engleskoj ne 'vodi' znači 'pucapakao izmilitantnog robota'?" He shook his head, not sure what was more disturbing - the fact that Wanda had completely ignored him and put herself and the other man at risk or the fact that she'd just obliterated the enemy with...whatever her things were. That tiny little English word that sounded like an exhalation that he could never remember. Pietro sighed and then looked over his shoulder at Hank, a large hand gingerly pressing at his face where it had absorbed the brunt of the impact with the Sentinel. "This place you are having - it is safe?"

[donotmockme]

Hank's eyes fell on the exposed gadgetry with the kind of hunger that very few men of his day cared to admit to. Even from where he stood, several yards away- he could tell the skill that was put into the thing was comparable to his own. It was a thing of beauty, of technological genius and he had to get his hands on it. The girl had taken one of the core drives, as well as what appeared to be attached to the power-supply, and she could have them for the time being. What he wanted, was that head.

Never mind that they spoke in Russian, and that technically they ought to be standing on opposite sides of the battle field, at this time and place? They were very, very much peers. He followed them both quickly, jogging a bit to get up to the monster (for was there really any other term?) and slipped off his jacket, using it as a barrier between his hands and the delicate mechanics.

"Safest I've been to." Hank answered, half paying attention to their conversation. He turned after a moment, having wretched free his own token to take home.

"I have a car a few blocks from here, the drive isn't that far at all."

[chaosmagus]

Wanda was glad to see Pietro conscious and mobile, but the words coming out of his mouth made her raise an eyebrow. “Ти си био онај који сам бацио на милитантне робота покушава да га заустави уз његово лице” she snapped. “Which of us is the stupid one?” She would have thought he’d rather have one less of those things walking around hunting their kind. And had he seriously thought that she could just LEAVE him? Obviously despite their strange familiarity he didn’t know her at all. Which was something of a relief, oddly enough.

She watched as their new acquaintance made his way over to the robot and removed its heard, chastising herself for not having thought of that. Sorry, Howard. She had a feeling that she would probably end up with another opportunity at some point in the future, so she would have to keep that in mind. Keeping the pieces she had pilfered from its remains held securely in her hands, she studied the other man thoughtfully. “Safest you’ve been to?” she echoed quietly. Wanda was honestly not sure about going with him to wherever it was he had in mind. At the moment all she wanted was to go home. More than that, she wanted Cap and even Howard. She wanted Clint.

But that would have to wait. Pietro was hurt, as was she, to a somewhat lesser degree. They needed to get patched up and regroup. And it looked like the best place for that was the safety of wherever it was Henry had in mind. Blood dripped from her hands onto the concrete, and she made a reluctant decision. As soon as I’ve gotten the bleeding under control, I’ll contact Cap.

“We should leave, then. I suspect lingering would be... a terribly bad idea.”