𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 (X-Men ~ Peter Maximoff)

Behind Blue Eyes

If the quality of someone's life could be measured on a scale of one through to ten, Jennifer would put the marker down at negative one. It wasn't any surprise really, after all, how else would you feel after discovering that the only other member of your family was buried six feet deep in the ground?

The rating she chose had certainly improved over the past few days though as she came to terms with what had happened and understanding that her sorrow would not reverse the product of time. Still though, after just over a week Jennifer refused to speak with anyone, not about how she was feeling and not about what was going on inside her head. She didn't want to shut herself off but she had done so anyway, worried that socialising with anyone would cause her to completely break down and wasn't something she was sure if she could recover from.

Half the time she felt like a statue, the winter in her heart making her entire body frigid. Time seemed to move outside but in her head she was stuck there, for what was verging onto forever. The issue with her stone like structure was that although, if she was quick enough, she could be turned back into clay and remoulded, there was always the possibility that the final product would be worse, or that it would break apart and crumble into nothingness.

All three members of the Maximoff family had tried in some way to help the newly turned seventeen year old find her way through her grief, whether it was Maisie's kind smiles when Jennifer finally found the strength to eat dinner with them, Laura's efforts not to ask too many questions or Peter's constantly checking she was going through the news in the best way, and tonight, he decided to try and help her. He heard muffled sobs all week, and today was no exception.

Walking in the bedroom that was now unofficially Jennifer's, he sat on the side of the bed, looking on at the girl he cared about so much, too much maybe, and rested his palm on her shoulder. Her eyes flicked to meet his, glossy in the moisture that welled within them.

"Listen," Peter started, knowing exactly what she was thinking before he entered the room. "None of this is your fault alright?"

She shook her head at him. "It is."

"No, no it's not. Did you know what was going to happen?"

"No, but - "

" – but nothing. Unless you knew then you couldn't have possibly made the right choice, so it's not on you."

Jennifer frowned at him in thought, taking in his words that only made partial sense in her head. Peter knew she was too focused on blaming herself to properly understand, so he used a different tactic.

Leaning over her, he pulled the folded letter out from under the lamp. He didn't know what else it said, not having read anything other than the first line a week ago, but if whatever on it was important enough to be sent, then it might help its intended recipient. Handing her the letter, he gave her one final bit of encouragement before departing from the room once again. "Maybe you should read the rest of it, it might help you realise that you're innocent."

The door shut behind him with the familiar creak, and Jennifer stared at the letter in her grasp, the letter that she hadn't been in contact with since she first received it, not wanting to even see the object that had given her that news. She hadn't thought about the other two pages and what they could contain, not believing that reading more would change anything, nor would it magically feel better like Peter was hoping it would, but she had to give it a shot, curiosity now filling her.

With a deep exhale Jennifer did her best to remove the worry and fear from her body, though as she unfolded the letter she could still feel that sense of darkness clinging on to her. Her eyes skipped over the first paragraph that was no more that a single sentence, refusing to re-read what was inscribed there, refusing to have that sudden drop of spirit again. The next paragraph, however, was still incredibly downhearted.