Title: The Forgotten Few
Author: Bdrakesgurl
Summary: The X-Men are faced with a mutant holocaust that wishes to see them dead. Can they survive, without falling victim to the obstacles Fate throws in their path?
Pairings: Logan/Marie, Storm/Hank, Gambit/other, Bobby/other
Disclaimer: The X-Men belong to Marvel and Fox. Amy belongs to herself, and Jenn belongs to me.
Author's Notes: Feedback to an author is like chocolate to a hormonal teenage girl.
The year was 2019, a time when the powers that be, having declared mutant abilities unlawful, rounded up the country's Homo superior race and forced them to register. When the mutants answered with resistance, they were declared a nuisance to society, as well as a general threat to the succession of the United States. Sentinels, a new creation so advanced that even mutants had little resistance against them, were released into the world to gather those that tarnished the American nation. Unbeknownst to the public, the mutants gathered were taken to concentration camps, much more advanced than those seen in the Hitler era, where they were either terminated or put to work. To the public, the camps were seen as nothing more than safe havens for those who were different from the norm. A place where mutants could go and thrive together as their own independent nation of sorts. Such ideas couldn't be more wrong.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not every member of the human race was oblivious to the beginnings of the holocaust. Many were willing to risk their own lives to ensure the safety of friends, as well as strangers, that were being punished for something they were born with. Marie and her friends were lucky to have found a family willing to hide them, at the risk of their own lives. After the Sentinel attack, the number of X-Men had dwindled greatly. Many were captured, and even more fled in hopes of reaching other countries before they were found out. The remains, five desolate people out of eighteen at least, lived in the attic of a friend who offered them aide. The conditions left much to be desired, though none would ever condemn their current surroundings. For the past five months, the four walls created their home, as well as their only defense against a world that wanted to see them exterminated.
Huddled in the corner, Marie pulled her blanket tighter around herself, watching through jaded eyes as her four friends reminisced over memories of past missions. Several hushed whispers even spoke of Xavier's dream for a peaceful coinciding of mutants and humans. Instead, the world had taken his theory in a drastic turnabout, blaming them for the economic hardships the country faced. No one blamed the lavish extravagance that people had taken for granted for years, or any of the natural reasons why the country would be plunged into another depression. Nor did they take the time to remember the causes of past depressions, or what using one specific genre as a scapegoat had done to people. Instead, they turned every emotion they had on the Homo superiors, pointing rigid fingers in their direction, when in truth, the blame could just has easily have fallen on their own shoulders.
"Anot'er game, mon ami?" Remy was already shuffling the cards for yet another game of poker, or black jack, or something meaningless that seemed to pass the time with little pleasure. They were running out of ways to amuse themselves, and were equally as quickly falling into the steady drip of depression that leaked into the room every time another night went by. With the depression came apprehension, and the knowledge that, though they were safe now, they would be too lucky to get away clean. There would come a time when their secrets would be revealed, each one of them knew it. Only, no one was brave enough to admit it, to himself, as well as his friends.
"Deal me out, Cajun." Bobby spoke then, casting a glance in Marie's direction, and cracking a smile under the analyzing gaze she returned. When she'd first met him, the boy's eyes had been filled with hope and good humor. When the Registration Act was passed, and the Sentinels released, several of them had depended on that good humor to get them through the mental suffering their positions were pulling them through. Now, it was sapped dry, having spent too long with no hope and too much anxiety. In its place, despair reigned, though she knew he tried his best to conceal it from the others. Marie had never known him to be serious, but when Scott Summers was killed, Bobby Drake had done his best to pull the team together again. She admired the strength he had shown then, and wondered how long he had been so responsible. He was never truly taken seriously, until the five of them came to the decision that they would disappear into the small room, perhaps never to see the light of day again.
"Suit y'self. Hank?" When the furry man shook his head briefly, Remy simply shrugged, stuck another cigarette into his mouth, and began to deal himself a round of Solitaire. The girl with the white streak laughed at that, for the game seemed to reflect his soul fairly well. She had never known him to work well with teams. He was generally good at acting on impulse, and acting for himself alone. The idea that his actions would affect others had greatly taken its toll on Gambit in the beginning. After training, though, he had learned to act as a unit, and that trusting others wasn't always dangerous.
Marie jumped in surprise as Bobby sat himself down beside her. He offered another smile, which almost held a hint of amusement behind it. Then the smile faded and she was left to return the gesture with an equal lack of enthusiasm. When she shivered, he slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into him, an action that she was too tired to deny him. Instead she rested there, staring at her feet, wondering how long exactly they'd all been there. The day the five of them had entered the room was hardly a day to forget. Each had a small satchel of thing they brought with them, and that was all. There was really no room for anything else, such as a bed, so they were left to sleep in sleeping bags on the floor. The heating for the house was done by fireplace, which left the attic sharply cold, causing the friends to rely on each other for warmth during the evenings when the temperatures dropped. Only Bobby Drake seemed inclined for the cold weather, but that was understandable, considering he was the Iceman. Gambit helped as well, using his powers to heat cards and occasionally start a small fire within the room. But the smoke had grown too noticeable then, and they'd had to abandon that luxury as well.
No one really dared to use his or her mutant powers any longer. Marie was just grateful she had learned to control hers before all this had happened. In the tight spaces they had available to them, the ability to take in one's memories and powers with a single touch would have been dangerous. She was still cautious, though, despite her friends' assurance that they would be all right with it.
"Nothing like a tragedy to bring us all together, huh?"
Marie's lip curled up slightly as she nodded in agreement against the boy's chest. He slowly ran a hand through her hair, trying to comfort her, and succeeding, for the most part. To this comment, she had to let her eyes stray to the corner, where Hank and Ororo sat close together. One would think it harmless enough, a friendly gesture to ensure one another's comfort. The two had been close, after all, when the team was still assembled, and had to concentrate on easier things, such as mutants obsessed with running the world. After the deaths of several X-Men, though, the two really drew into each other, using their friendship as an emotional crutch of sorts. A way to avoid the harshness of reality.
Bobby lifted his gaze to watch the two as well. Ororo seemed content to curl up against Henry McCoy, while the scientist in question jotted notes down in a journal. Whether they were his own thoughts on their present situation, or a new theory for relativity,
Marie couldn't say. He wasn't the sort of man who spoke of himself often, which left the others to guess what he truly thought or felt, in some cases. "What're you thinking about, Marie?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders, leaning back and using Bobby's lap as a sort of pillow, to stare at the ceiling.
"Too much." He opened his mouth to retort, when the sounds of footsteps sounded on the stairway. Marie moved to sit up in alarm, but a firm had on her shoulder kept her in the position she was presently in. The others had heard as well, for Hank quietly shut his journal, while Gambit froze, hand still holding a single card over the rows of others. No one breathed for the space of at least a minute, while the slow ascent was made. At last, the intruder reached the attic and moved deliberately over to the door leading to their hiding spot. The moment Marie and the others heard the light tapping in the code they had decided on, they relaxed, and waited for the man to enter.
Arnold Frank, friend to Charles Xavier, pushed aside the bookshelf that covered the doorway, and entered slowly, whispering a call of welcome. He brought with him a tray of steaming hot food, which the outcasts eyed hungrily. Setting that down so they could begin their meal, he also brought forth several blankets and even a few candles. "For the night, when it gets dark." They nodded in understanding, already shoveling the warm food into their mouths. With the Sentinels and other government agents constantly surveying the area, it was difficult for the man to buy enough food for his family as well as the five of them. That was why they had to eat every few days, saving pieces of meals to tide them over until the next tray of food could be brought. No one complained, for they all knew that it was better than starving in concentration camps.
"Any news?" Always the gentleman, Bobby waited to eat until he was sure Marie and Ororo had gotten their fill. Instead, he concentrated on the small man before them that posed as their present day savior. He shook his head slightly, with a small, exasperated sigh, in answer.
"Nothing of great importance." For a moment, he disappeared out the door, only to return with a stack of books, more paper, and a few pens. On top of that, he handed Bobby a small pile of newspapers that constituted as their only clue to the outside world and its happenings. The blond boy took them eagerly, spreading the pages out to look them over instantly. He needed some kind of connection to the lives being lead outside the walls.
"Give Remy de sports, homme." Graciously, Bobby peeled that section aside, handing it to the Cajun, to feed his sports obsession.
The weather section was given to Ororo, and the Science area eagerly disposed of into Hank's possession. Marie stole the Arts section, and, though he knew it necessary, Bobby detained from reading the
Local and World articles, and settled instead on the daily comics.
"I haven't given anyone reason to suspect me of treason. You all should be safe until this blows over." Tight smiles were offered to the man, who gave a weary nod in response before taking the empty tray and leaving the room. When the door was shut and locked, and the footsteps started their descent once again, the others relaxed and engulfed themselves in their readings.
Author: Bdrakesgurl
Summary: The X-Men are faced with a mutant holocaust that wishes to see them dead. Can they survive, without falling victim to the obstacles Fate throws in their path?
Pairings: Logan/Marie, Storm/Hank, Gambit/other, Bobby/other
Disclaimer: The X-Men belong to Marvel and Fox. Amy belongs to herself, and Jenn belongs to me.
Author's Notes: Feedback to an author is like chocolate to a hormonal teenage girl.
The year was 2019, a time when the powers that be, having declared mutant abilities unlawful, rounded up the country's Homo superior race and forced them to register. When the mutants answered with resistance, they were declared a nuisance to society, as well as a general threat to the succession of the United States. Sentinels, a new creation so advanced that even mutants had little resistance against them, were released into the world to gather those that tarnished the American nation. Unbeknownst to the public, the mutants gathered were taken to concentration camps, much more advanced than those seen in the Hitler era, where they were either terminated or put to work. To the public, the camps were seen as nothing more than safe havens for those who were different from the norm. A place where mutants could go and thrive together as their own independent nation of sorts. Such ideas couldn't be more wrong.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not every member of the human race was oblivious to the beginnings of the holocaust. Many were willing to risk their own lives to ensure the safety of friends, as well as strangers, that were being punished for something they were born with. Marie and her friends were lucky to have found a family willing to hide them, at the risk of their own lives. After the Sentinel attack, the number of X-Men had dwindled greatly. Many were captured, and even more fled in hopes of reaching other countries before they were found out. The remains, five desolate people out of eighteen at least, lived in the attic of a friend who offered them aide. The conditions left much to be desired, though none would ever condemn their current surroundings. For the past five months, the four walls created their home, as well as their only defense against a world that wanted to see them exterminated.
Huddled in the corner, Marie pulled her blanket tighter around herself, watching through jaded eyes as her four friends reminisced over memories of past missions. Several hushed whispers even spoke of Xavier's dream for a peaceful coinciding of mutants and humans. Instead, the world had taken his theory in a drastic turnabout, blaming them for the economic hardships the country faced. No one blamed the lavish extravagance that people had taken for granted for years, or any of the natural reasons why the country would be plunged into another depression. Nor did they take the time to remember the causes of past depressions, or what using one specific genre as a scapegoat had done to people. Instead, they turned every emotion they had on the Homo superiors, pointing rigid fingers in their direction, when in truth, the blame could just has easily have fallen on their own shoulders.
"Anot'er game, mon ami?" Remy was already shuffling the cards for yet another game of poker, or black jack, or something meaningless that seemed to pass the time with little pleasure. They were running out of ways to amuse themselves, and were equally as quickly falling into the steady drip of depression that leaked into the room every time another night went by. With the depression came apprehension, and the knowledge that, though they were safe now, they would be too lucky to get away clean. There would come a time when their secrets would be revealed, each one of them knew it. Only, no one was brave enough to admit it, to himself, as well as his friends.
"Deal me out, Cajun." Bobby spoke then, casting a glance in Marie's direction, and cracking a smile under the analyzing gaze she returned. When she'd first met him, the boy's eyes had been filled with hope and good humor. When the Registration Act was passed, and the Sentinels released, several of them had depended on that good humor to get them through the mental suffering their positions were pulling them through. Now, it was sapped dry, having spent too long with no hope and too much anxiety. In its place, despair reigned, though she knew he tried his best to conceal it from the others. Marie had never known him to be serious, but when Scott Summers was killed, Bobby Drake had done his best to pull the team together again. She admired the strength he had shown then, and wondered how long he had been so responsible. He was never truly taken seriously, until the five of them came to the decision that they would disappear into the small room, perhaps never to see the light of day again.
"Suit y'self. Hank?" When the furry man shook his head briefly, Remy simply shrugged, stuck another cigarette into his mouth, and began to deal himself a round of Solitaire. The girl with the white streak laughed at that, for the game seemed to reflect his soul fairly well. She had never known him to work well with teams. He was generally good at acting on impulse, and acting for himself alone. The idea that his actions would affect others had greatly taken its toll on Gambit in the beginning. After training, though, he had learned to act as a unit, and that trusting others wasn't always dangerous.
Marie jumped in surprise as Bobby sat himself down beside her. He offered another smile, which almost held a hint of amusement behind it. Then the smile faded and she was left to return the gesture with an equal lack of enthusiasm. When she shivered, he slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into him, an action that she was too tired to deny him. Instead she rested there, staring at her feet, wondering how long exactly they'd all been there. The day the five of them had entered the room was hardly a day to forget. Each had a small satchel of thing they brought with them, and that was all. There was really no room for anything else, such as a bed, so they were left to sleep in sleeping bags on the floor. The heating for the house was done by fireplace, which left the attic sharply cold, causing the friends to rely on each other for warmth during the evenings when the temperatures dropped. Only Bobby Drake seemed inclined for the cold weather, but that was understandable, considering he was the Iceman. Gambit helped as well, using his powers to heat cards and occasionally start a small fire within the room. But the smoke had grown too noticeable then, and they'd had to abandon that luxury as well.
No one really dared to use his or her mutant powers any longer. Marie was just grateful she had learned to control hers before all this had happened. In the tight spaces they had available to them, the ability to take in one's memories and powers with a single touch would have been dangerous. She was still cautious, though, despite her friends' assurance that they would be all right with it.
"Nothing like a tragedy to bring us all together, huh?"
Marie's lip curled up slightly as she nodded in agreement against the boy's chest. He slowly ran a hand through her hair, trying to comfort her, and succeeding, for the most part. To this comment, she had to let her eyes stray to the corner, where Hank and Ororo sat close together. One would think it harmless enough, a friendly gesture to ensure one another's comfort. The two had been close, after all, when the team was still assembled, and had to concentrate on easier things, such as mutants obsessed with running the world. After the deaths of several X-Men, though, the two really drew into each other, using their friendship as an emotional crutch of sorts. A way to avoid the harshness of reality.
Bobby lifted his gaze to watch the two as well. Ororo seemed content to curl up against Henry McCoy, while the scientist in question jotted notes down in a journal. Whether they were his own thoughts on their present situation, or a new theory for relativity,
Marie couldn't say. He wasn't the sort of man who spoke of himself often, which left the others to guess what he truly thought or felt, in some cases. "What're you thinking about, Marie?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders, leaning back and using Bobby's lap as a sort of pillow, to stare at the ceiling.
"Too much." He opened his mouth to retort, when the sounds of footsteps sounded on the stairway. Marie moved to sit up in alarm, but a firm had on her shoulder kept her in the position she was presently in. The others had heard as well, for Hank quietly shut his journal, while Gambit froze, hand still holding a single card over the rows of others. No one breathed for the space of at least a minute, while the slow ascent was made. At last, the intruder reached the attic and moved deliberately over to the door leading to their hiding spot. The moment Marie and the others heard the light tapping in the code they had decided on, they relaxed, and waited for the man to enter.
Arnold Frank, friend to Charles Xavier, pushed aside the bookshelf that covered the doorway, and entered slowly, whispering a call of welcome. He brought with him a tray of steaming hot food, which the outcasts eyed hungrily. Setting that down so they could begin their meal, he also brought forth several blankets and even a few candles. "For the night, when it gets dark." They nodded in understanding, already shoveling the warm food into their mouths. With the Sentinels and other government agents constantly surveying the area, it was difficult for the man to buy enough food for his family as well as the five of them. That was why they had to eat every few days, saving pieces of meals to tide them over until the next tray of food could be brought. No one complained, for they all knew that it was better than starving in concentration camps.
"Any news?" Always the gentleman, Bobby waited to eat until he was sure Marie and Ororo had gotten their fill. Instead, he concentrated on the small man before them that posed as their present day savior. He shook his head slightly, with a small, exasperated sigh, in answer.
"Nothing of great importance." For a moment, he disappeared out the door, only to return with a stack of books, more paper, and a few pens. On top of that, he handed Bobby a small pile of newspapers that constituted as their only clue to the outside world and its happenings. The blond boy took them eagerly, spreading the pages out to look them over instantly. He needed some kind of connection to the lives being lead outside the walls.
"Give Remy de sports, homme." Graciously, Bobby peeled that section aside, handing it to the Cajun, to feed his sports obsession.
The weather section was given to Ororo, and the Science area eagerly disposed of into Hank's possession. Marie stole the Arts section, and, though he knew it necessary, Bobby detained from reading the
Local and World articles, and settled instead on the daily comics.
"I haven't given anyone reason to suspect me of treason. You all should be safe until this blows over." Tight smiles were offered to the man, who gave a weary nod in response before taking the empty tray and leaving the room. When the door was shut and locked, and the footsteps started their descent once again, the others relaxed and engulfed themselves in their readings.