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 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.”

[swiftargyros]

Pietro snorted. "Oh, so now you think it is not good idea to stay. This makes sense." He wanted to roll his eyes but the Serbian had a notion that doing so would cause his brain to hemorrhage, if the violent pounding in his temples was anything to go by. For all that it hurt, it wasn't an unexpected amount of discomfort. That was the best way to approach injuries, he found. If one calculated the approximate damage one would incur, then when it came it was no surprise and much more readily accepted. That was what had made him such a good athlete as a boy; where the gentler ones had cried over a skinned knee, Pietro had merely resigned himself to the idea of broken bones and bloodied scrapes and anything less than that had seemed like a real blessing.

Pleasantly surprised by the fact that he wasn't dead (or worse, recaptured), Pietro was already firmly set in his decision to follow this other man to wherever his hideout was. Their own options were sparse to begin with and there was no hiding what they were, now. If the man was going to double-cross them, he'd have no better opportunity than the current moment when they were most vulnerable, panting and nursing the initial shock of incurred wounds. Since he hadn't yet hollered for the police or tried to do them in with a bit of packing twine rescued from one of the nearby garbage bins, Pietro felt it safe to presume that he could be granted a little trust.

And if not, well, they were on their guard now and would be ready for any funny business.

Giving a nod to Hank, the newly-disguised superspeeder sloped and rolled his shoulders, stretching out the tightened, tense muscles and loosening the abused joints. "Da, let's go. They are - " and his eyes finally dropped to the ground and focused enough to bring the four pairs of prehensile feet into view. There were probably only two, really, (because he knew for a fact that Wanda only had one head, not the two he was currently seeing when he looked at her) but either way they were impressive and offered a measure of insurance that no words that the stranger could have spoken would have. "Ah," Pietro nodded and winced when it made the back of his neck throb painfully. "You are really knowing about safe places then, Amerikanac. Maybe it was you it was after and we are merely a bonus surprise."

[donotmockme]

Already Hank was imagining the experiments he was going to have to run on the equipment in his hands, and absently, as if the fight had not just ended, he began to make his way back to his car. Ideally he'd spend the next few days on site, figuring the 'beast' out where it had been fallen. These were not ideal circumstances however, and there were other people involved.

He looked up at the comment coming from the boy, offering an awkward shoulder in reply.

"Perhaps. But if so, then we had the same goal. I have been trying to track this for the last fifteen blocks." He gave the surrounding neighborhood a once over, the civilians had fled, with only the brave and dumb peeking behind their curtains and doors. For a moment, he wished he was the sort of man to revel in this, instead he only felt dis-interest. The real issue of the day was the two new mutants that were about to join the Mansion, and the gadgetry in hand.

"We had better best be going, before anyone thinks to call the authorities instead of Science Fiction Tomorrow." He said, beginning to make his way out to the car. If they followed? Great. If not? Hank doubted that.

[chaosmagus]

Perhaps it was the injuries and blood loss combined with the post-battle adrenaline, but Pietro was thoroughly grating on her nerves at the moment. Was he so... so traditional that he would rather she had run and left his injured ass behind than stay and HELP him? What would he have done, injured as he had been? He would have likely ended up recaptured. “Next time you come up with a stupid idea I’ll leave your ass on the ground, then,” she told him icily, before turning sharply on her heel and limping after Henry. Her body protested at the abrupt movement, but she ignored it for the time being.

“To je to, co jsem si, že se snaží pomoci tvrdohlavý osina v zadku,” she muttered under her breath. “Stupido, stupido ragazzo. Con uno stupido, stupido piano d'attacco. Προφανώς ήμουν απλά έπρεπε να τον αφήσει πίσω. Αφού είχε προσπαθήσει να σταματήσει ένα ρομπότ με το πρόσωπό του.” She was switching between languages completely unawares, but she was tired, and hurt; and when she was tired and hurt she tended to stop thinking entirely in English, and it bled through to her speech.

“Quelque part, je doute que,” she told him, then frowning slightly. Wait... that didn’t sound right. The realisation that she hadn’t been speaking English made her take a moment, reorganize her thoughts (at least temporarily), and try again. “Somehow I doubt we had the same goal. There was undoubtedly some amount of... variation.”

She cast a glance over her shoulder at the wreckage of the robot. I should call Howard... have him try and collect it before its keepers do. The idea had merit... but by the time she got to a phone it would probably be long gone. He would have to make do with the pieces she had recovered. For now, anyway.

[swiftargyros]

Pietro manfully ignored Wanda's multilingual hysterics (as if he'd been the one not using his head and taking advantage of the distraction as a way to escape) and easily caught up with the pair, falling into step beside Hank. He thought it best to give his female compatriot a little space to cool off before she decided to try and one-up the Sentinel. There was no spare time for or point in getting involved in a petty back-and-forth about who had done what.

Even if his plan had been properly thought out.

And even if she had ignored it completely because she was stubborn and far too confident for her own good.

No, Pietro wasn't going to dip into that tangled web. The Serbian squinted down the street and then turned to glance in the other direction, just in case, but there didn't seem to be any other foes about. That had been the same of his first encounter with the robots, he'd been abducted by a single unit that had appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't until he and Wanda had garnered an escape from the containment facility that he'd seen more than one at a time. Perhaps that was how their hierarchy was formed; they sent out scouts, did predatory recon with the caveat of taking hostages if the opportunity arose.

That wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

"We are not tracking them," Pietro chimed in, agreeing with Wanda as they arrived at Hank's car. "Is the opposite way. We are trying to stay away and they are trying to find us. We did not make the best impression the last time we met."

[donotmockme]

The car was the sort you'd expect to see from a man in black, a newer model Lincoln with almost nothing impressive about it to note. Simple interior, boring exterior and a license plate that stank of government issue. It had been his baby back when he was with the CIA, a present to himself to fit in and stop riding his bike whenever necessary to travel. He still rode one of course, but for a trip to and from the city, the old Lincoln was his best bet.

"Last time?" Hank asked briefly, having thrown the excess materials in the trunk before climbing in the driver's seat. He waited for the other two to get in before speaking again, regarding them both with a curious eye.

"Best we wait to talk about that until we get back to the Mansion. Best we wait to talk about most things." He jerked his thumb to the back, indicating the machine parts. "They might be situated with microphones that I missed.

[chaosmagus]

Wanda was rapidly coming to the realisation that if she spent much more time around Pietro alone that things would possibly come to blows at some point. She liked him, she really did, but his mindset was so frustratingly traditional and... and ANTIQUATED that it pissed her off immensely sometimes. She found herself missing HOWARD, of all people, because for all his genius billionaire playboy attitude he didn’t take her for something less or place the blame for something on her head just because she was a woman. He seemed to like that she was intelligent and that she didn’t take his bullshit.

Perhaps she was just fortunate to have impeccable taste in friends. She had gotten Pietro rather unfortunately dumped in her lap, after all. Well, it currently seemed rather unfortunate, anyway, but that was probably just the frustration and injury talking. And they had spent quite a lot of time in each other’s pockets since escaping their cell. That would affect things no matter how much you liked someone. No longer having to do so would probably do wonders.

They arrived at Henry’s car, and as he slid into the driver’s seat Wanda slid into the passager’s seat without giving Pietro a chance. He could ride in the back. She nodded. “Last time,” she confirmed. “But that conversation can wait.” She sank back against the seat and watched somewhat detachedly as blood from her hands pooled and trickled around the robotic components held loosely in her grasp. She would have to clean them off best she could before relinquishing them over to Howard. It hadn’t been the smartest idea to hex it at point blank range, but it had been the best way to ensure that the robot took as much damage as she could feasibly give it.