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"Do you truly think Xavier will bother to save you?" Magneto towers over Peter's shivering form. The chains around his wrists get tighter. It hurts as it digs into the raw meat of his forearms. "I don't believe he'll still have a use for something this... pathetic."
It draws a sob out of him despite his best tries to contain it. The chains get tighter yet again and Peter fears having broken wrists. "He'll send someone for me." He says stubbornly. But it hurts, everything hurts. Defiance is the only thing left in him now and that's only sometimes.
"I must say, you were much more cooperative last week, Peter. I must thank you for your information. It was very helpful."
Peter doesn't want to think about last week. It's always pain, so many ways to feel it. And Magneto's cold eyes and mocking words. They hurt, almost worse than the knives.
"We'll see if we can make you more cooperative, wouldn't you agree?"
He panics when the chain wraps around his neck, choking him. The Magneto raises it into the air by his powers. He claws at his neck but he knows it's pointless, it always is......
He wakes up sobbing and panting. He's confused at the lack of usual pain and the softness under him. Magneto must be playing a new game. He opens his eyes.
It's still dark in the room but he can see that it's nice. A little plain. There's a fireplace in the room, two armchair in front of him. And then only a sturdy bed to which he's chained to.
Peter hated it already. He'd prefer the torture over Magneto's false kindness. He remembers the last time he was awake. Magneto's hand in his hair, him crying and promising to return Peter home. And his stupid, naive ass believed him. How many times will it have to happen before he loses hope?
He dries off his tears before anyone can see. Rule number one, never show weakness to Magneto.
The door open and Peter's stomach sinks. Magneto comes in. He looks less threatening in the plain black shirt and jeans, but that's presumably the plan.
He offers him another glass of water. Peter would gladly toss it into his face, but having water is always nice. He drinks it quickly, this time without help. Magneto's expression is unreadable, as always. Only his eyes are bloodshot. He doesn't know if that's a good sign. Probably not.
Magneto disappears and comes up with a plate of soup which he offers him. Again, silently.
Peter stares at the plate, pondering whether the behaviour is a new interrogation tactic or if he's finally gone mad.
"It's not poisonous." Magneto speaks finally. His voice is still raspy. "You can eat it."
Peter hesitantly takes a bite, fearing what disobedience would bring. His swollen throat doesn't like the swallowing but he'll have to do.
For the first time he notices that the gashes on his forearms are binded. That's new. The chain doesn't sit on his wrist as tightly as before either. "Last meal before execution?" He asks dryly. It did come to mind.
Magneto doesn't seem to appreciate the sarcasm. "Last meal before you go back to Charles."
Peter almost chokes on the soup. Wait, he was serious? It wasn't a dream? Or maybe this is a dream. Maybe he's already dead and this is heaven. Okay, not heaven, but better than the hell he's been in the last....shit. He doesn't know how long. Eternity.
"W-Why?" He stares at him warily. It would be less weird if Magneto grew a second head.
Magneto studies him for a moment. "Mystique visited me yesterday. Charles has been looking for you."
He has? That was good news. He thought so but it was hard to keep his faith when Magneto's taunts rang in his ears. "And you'll just hand me over cause he asked nicely?" Shit, couldn't he keep his mouth shut for a while? Magneto already looks upset.
"No." Magneto looks away. "Because you are my son."
He knows. Magneto knows. Magneto knows Peter is his son.
It feels like all air has been pushed out of him with that sentence and he can't breathe again.
Magneto knows.
Magneto knows and it never ends well when he knows something new.
"Take a deep breath." Magneto instructs. "I won't hurt you again. I never should have."
He wants to tell him to shove the orders but they help.
"Breathe out. You'll go back to Charles. You will be safe."
When did breathing get so hard?
"Breathe in. Focus."
It takes an eternity before he calms down.
"I'm sorry for what I did, Pietro." How does he know his name? He never told him that, he's sure. "I know an apology cannot fix what I've done, but I'm sorry nevertheless. I never would have hurt you if I knew."
He can't bring himself to accept the apology. It's not fine. It can't be fine. How could it? If Magneto didn't find out, he likely would have died in that cell. He's angry. So angry.
The naive, hopefully part of him wants to forgive. He squashes that hope.
He pushes the rest of the soup away, suddenly lacking appetite. "When can I go back to the school?"
Magneto undoes the chain with the flick of a finger. For a split second Peter expects pain to follow, but it never does. Instead the chain on his wrist melts and floats off onto the nightstand.
Magneto offers him a hand. He tries to stand up without it but figures out he's too weak to stand alone. He lets himself be helped.
Mangeto takes him to the jet outside. One of the other members of the Brotherhood is there, a woman with hair cut short.
He sits him down into one of the seats and buckles him. Even puts a blanket around him.
Peter watches him leave without a goodbye as the plane takes off.