[OOC: RP with
daughter_of_m. Takes place after
Wanda knocks Jean into a coma.]
The drive back to the cottage from the market passed uneventfully. After the
pleasant conversation with Pietro, the twins were both in upbeat moods, though Tommy's was more subdued than Billy's. They sat in the wide, magically-conjured back seat, talking and bickering in friendly
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"Wanda," he said, taking both of her shoulders in his hands and squeezing softly. "I..." He stopped before he could add "love you too." Neither of them was in the right mind to be saying that, no matter how true it was.
He changed tactics. "Nothing could make me hate you. Nothing. Tell me what happened."
He was reasonably sure this was true. He could never hate her. But fearing her was another story entirely, and on that, he stayed tellingly silent.
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"Take me to her. We need to find out if she's ok."
There was no time to address everything else she'd just said. If Wanda really did remember everything now, there would be time for promises and forgiveness later. Right now, the imperative was making sure Jean Grey was all right. Making sure the world didn't fall apart all over again.
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