Quicksilver (X-men) One shots

Nightmares

Peter would never admit it to anyone, but he had nightmares. It was only 3 weeks after the whole kidnapping debacle, and at night it was as if he was still in that military base. He heard the screaming of the young children tear through the silence of the cold nights. He could feel the electricity they had run through his body. He would wake up covered in a cold sweat, sometimes letting out a scream, though most nights just gasping for air. He knew he wasn't the only one. Ororo didn't sleep well, and it was visible. Jean had gone to the professor, asking for help on how to block out the memories. And Peter was just sitting in his bed every night, needing at least 10 minutes for him to finally realize that he was safe, and it all were just bad memories. Ororo knew, he had told her, and she had told him to talk about it. But he knew he couldn't talk about it with her. Her torture had been less cruel, and he knew how much it had mentally damaged her. HE couldn't hurt her more by telling her about his nightmares. Telling his mom wasn't an option either, she already worried too much about him anyway. Telling his dad would ensure rage attacks from him, which wouldn't benefit anyone. So who could he tell? He honestly didn't know. And so he lay back down and closed his eyes, hoping that the dreams wouldn't be too bad.

By 10 in the morning, the whole mansion was alive and stirring. It was a sunny Saturday and most of the kids were running around, playing outside. Scott and Kurt were throwing around a football, while Jean and Ororo just enjoyed the sun. Peter on the other hand just sat underneath a big tree in the garden, trying to catch up on some sleep. He lay back against the large tree trunk, with his eyes clothes, when he notices some grass close by rustling. Since there was no wind at all that day, the rustling grass meant someone was coming over.

'Hey slowpoke'

Peter sighed slightly but smiled as well. He opened his eyes and looked up at Isabel. 'What do you want, Iz?' He leaned back again with his eyes closed.

Isabel sat down next to him. 'You're not fooling me, you know. I know you're having nightmares.'

Peter opened one eye and stared at her. 'And how is that you know that?'

'We all have them, Peter. There's no use in denying it.'

Peter sat up straight. 'Then how is it that you seem fine?'

'I have experience with nightmares. My parents abused me for years, and the nightmares always haunted me.' She shrugged. 'I guess by now I have gotten so used to having them, I'm just not surprised by them anymore, and can deal with the lack of sleep.'

Peter shook his head. 'Any advice?'

'Talk to someone...' She stated simply.

'My problem is that I don't know who to talk to...'

Isabel rolled her eyes. 'Come on, Peter. You know enough people around here. I'm sure that there is someone you can talk to.'

'Can, probably, want to, not so much.'

She sighed and got up. 'Just talk to your dad, Peter. I'm pretty sure he's already as mad at Stryker as humanly possible, and with all the shit he's been through in his life he might have some useful advice. But whatever, your choice. See you around Slowpoke.' She smiled slightly as she walked away and Peter rested his head back against the tree again.'

'She is right, you know.'

Peter opened his eyes and saw Jean standing in front of him.

'Were you eavesdropping?' he asked.

'No, Scott asked me to ask you if you wanted to join them playing football, I just overheard the conversation as I came closer.'

Peter scoffed slightly. 'Of course you did.'

'Just think about it, Peter. And for now, get into the sun and join your friends before they might forget who you are.'

They both laughed and Peter got up to join his friends, hoping to shed his worries for just a while.

When at 3 in the morning that night Peter sat up, aggressively being woken by one of his nightmares again, he saw a person sitting in the arm chair by the foot of his bed.

The fear of his nightmares hadn't worn off and his heart pounded faster, as in Peter's mind all sorts of scenarios of who the stranger could be ran together. He quickly turned on his bedside light, hoping to see who the stranger was.

'Did you expect anyone else?' His father's voice filled the quiet room as the light turned on, and Peter's should visible relaxed.

'Dad?'

Erik slowly got up out of the arm chair and sat down on the bed, by his son's side. 'How bad is it, Peter?'

He asked softly.

There was no point in denying his situation, Peter thought. His dad knew already.

Peter shrugged. '2 sometimes 3 a night. I have trouble falling asleep like I never have before, and I just feel less rested when I wake up.'

Erik nodded. 'Reliving bad memories?'

Peter nodded and Erik sighed.

'I guess it comes as no surprise that I have been there too, Peter.'

His son shook his head and looked down at the number now forever etched into the skin of his forearm.

'When I saw you that day, when I fried you from their hold and saw how damaged you were, I wanted to rip the hearts out from everyone who worked there. But I knew that saving you was more important than revenge. I also knew that revenge won't make the pain go away.'

Peter looked up at his dad.

'I have lived through horrors no man ever should Peter, and have lost countless of hours of sleep to the memories of it all. Many years I thought that revenge on the men who inflicted all that pain, would south the memories, but I learned they didn't. The easiest way of living with it, is to do just that; To live. Spending time with the people you love, and being happy, doing your best to live even if those memories are there.' Erik put his hand on his son's tattoo. 'Just like you, I have physical reminders which will always do their best to bring those memories back into the forefront of my mind. And I know I should never forget those moments. We need to accept them, and live with them, by giving them a place buried deep inside our mind.'

'I can't seem to forget them dad... It just always comes back.'

'If it would be easy, Peter, I wouldn't still be having nightmares every now and then. It is difficult, I know that, but it is possible. As long as you do your best to live your life.'

Peter nodded. 'I guess.'

'Now try to sleep, and think of happy memories, or happy things still to come in your life. Don't give those bad memories a chance to bring you down.'

Peter nodded slightly as he yawned and lay down again. 'Thanks dad.' He mumbled.

Erik smiled and slowly got up. 'Sleep well, Pietro.'

Soon enough Peter's breathing steadied and Erik sat back down in the armchair. If another nightmare would wake his son, he would be there. Because if Erik couldn't protect his son from traumatic events itself, he damn well would protect his son from the hurtful consequences.

A/N Some bittersweet bonding between Erik and Peter, I hope you all like it.