Chapter 1
Raven Darkholme was lost. Unbelievably, inexplicably and irrevocably lost.
Here, walking through the carpet-clad hallway of the hotel she would reside in, with her room keys clinking softly in her hand, those feelings only served to intensify more. The woman who used to call herself Mystique had no idea where to go, or what to do. Her thoughts were jumbled, skirting around and through her head like sandflies. Any form of coherent though couldn't be formed. Raven's mind was still frozen in a state of absolute shock. But she wasn't just feeling lost mentally, no, physically as well. She had felt nothing but disgust as that 'cure' swept through her and left her writhing in white-hot agony on the cold metal floor of the prison truck.
What made it worse that Erik, Pyro, and the ones who called themselves Juggernaut and Multiple Man were forced to watch. Raven could still feel it being absorbed by the marrow in her bones, coursing through her veins; and her own cells responding to the savage antibody. And then she was made to watch in sheer terror as her blue skin lost its tint, and began to turn into normal, peachy, human skin; as her rough scales receded into her skin; and as her short, fiery hair lengthened and turned to strands of black. She was burning up in front of everyone.
It was her fierce loyalty to Magneto (Um, Erik) that had driven her to jump in front of the dying man wielding the gene suppressor in the first place. It was the same loyalty that had drawn her to Erik's side on the sunny shores of Cuba, decades earlier. It was the same loyalty that had kept her by his side though all of those years, taking his orders and fighting for his cause. And finally, for the first time, when Mystique asked for him to reciprocate that loyalty, Erik didn't deliver. He looked down on her with distaste, and left her behind, shutting her out of the brotherhood forever.
"I'm sorry my dear, you are no longer one of us..."
"Such a shame. She was so beautiful."
Mystique, now Raven, could wield firearms or blades like no one else. She could fight like a lioness with a fury unmatched by any other. But as a human, she possessed no use to Erik and his precious team of Brotherhood mutants. It was only as a shape shifter or other mutant Erik would take her. She meant nothing to him the way she was now. And when she realised this, anger and betrayal of the deepest kind had flowed through her, hot and intense.
She had watched Erik leave, despair apparent on her face. She was almost desperate for him to turn around and take the hand she was still holding out for him. He didn't come back. She sat in the quiet, empty truck, on the cold floor, hugging her knees to her chest and shivering. She saw a dead policeman next to her and without thinking pulled him closer to her and stripped him of his uniform, then clothing herself in them. She stood up and staggered out of the truck, her head still spinning from the cure injection. She spotted a car that had swerved to the side of the road, still intact.
The two men behind the windscreen had clambered out in an attempt to stop Magneto. They were now laying two feet away from Raven's feet, and absolutely dead. Finding the key still in the ignition, she started up the car and pulled out of the ditch the car had been standing in and out onto the road. She had to leave quickly, the rational part of her brain told her, because it wouldn't be long for the CIA to arrive.
She had driven to the closest city, and gone to the nearest hotel with available rooms and booked one for a night with the vast amounts of funds Erik had charged her credit card with. She now walked through the hotel's hallway on the third, looking for her room. She opened the door and closed it after entering, and sunk to the ground. She buried her head in her hands and broke down all of the dams that had held her together on the way to her hotel.
For the first time in decades, Raven 'Mystique' Darkholme cried. She cried for the pain Erik had caused her, cried for everything she had to endure because of him and cried for the betrayal Erik had vested upon her. She had always thought it would be her and Erik against humanity, fighting endlessly for the mutant rights.
In that respect, he and Charles had been the same. The same goal, but fighting it in different ways. Charles had always believed it could be achieved in diplomacy, whilst Erik had believed the only way to go, was war. But Raven had only been a pawn on his chessboard; a piece of game. He had only really needed her to clean up his mess and kill his targets. If Erik had truly cared for her, even a little bit, he would have taken her hand and helped her.
When her tears ceased to come, Raven made her way over to the small adjoining bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror that hung above the sink. Her black hair hung dishevelled and in drabs, framing her pale and puffy cheeks. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, and Raven wondered when the last time was that she had had a good night's worth of sleep.
This body felt alien to her. Every body she shifted into felt strange and foreign to her. She only felt, for a lack of a better term, normal, when she was in her own blue skin. This skin was too fragile, too soft to withstand any type of hard pressure. This body lacked the tough pattern that her scales created. This human body lacked mutation. The senses were duller, and Raven found it difficult to adjust to the change.
She gripped the sides of the basin until her knuckles turned white and tightly shut her eyes. She sought out where she knew her mutation once lay, where she was able to tap in and out of it every time she wanted to shift into somebody else. She tapped, forced herself, rather, into that part of her brain. But something was holding her back; something prevented her from entering that part of her DNA. She strained harder, fighting against the fog that concealed that part of her make up from her.
A drop of sweat formulated on her forehead and made a silver trail as it slid down her face. It dripped off of the end of her nose and into the basin. She groaned and fought against the headache that was building in her mind. She was now throwing everything she had out onto the line; every part of her psyche was set on trying to shift once more. With one loud groan the headache exploded within her and the straining stopped. Raven opened one eye to see whether it had worked or not.
Not a single blue scale.
She tightly closed her eyes again, fighting now against the nausea that was blooming in the pit of her stomach. She made it four steps out of her bathroom, gripping her head in her hands, before collapsing on the bed, and letting the perpetual darkness of unconsciousness steal her.
~O~O~
Mystique stood in a hallway, looking into a room with two people inside. She wondered why she was standing there, watching the people inside with a sort of frightened curiosity. The room ahead of her shifted dangerously in and out of focus, like a dying cable TV. She walked out into the harsh light, and saw the two men; Magneto and Azazel, bent over a table laid with maps. They were murmuring softly in Russian. Mystique frowned as she realised two things, one; she was wearing her own blue skin, and two; Erik's hair wasn't grey with age. She realised she was dreaming. Dreaming a memory. Upon her arrival both men swivelled around to face her.
"Ah, Raven." Erik said, walking forward and wrapping his arms around her neck. Mystique stood frozen, her eyes firmly locked onto Azazel's pale blue ones. She felt something alike to fear flutter in her stomach. Erik stepped away from her and led her over to the maps. Tiny Nazi flags dotted various cities and countries around the world. Mystique frowned, wondering what the little flags meant. Seeing her expression, Erik explained. "These indicate weapon strongholds that house the last of Shaw's followers." He said, indicating the flags with his right hand. Mystique nodded.
"So, are we going to break into them or..." she asked, trailing off when she heard a snort to her right. Both she and Erik looked up at Azazel, who was looking at the ground with a hand covering his mouth. When he looked back up, his face was impassive once again. Erik raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and turned back to the maps. "Not just yet. We need to train first, all of us." he instructed, though Mystique was fairly certain her just meant her.
"Azazel with teach you in close combat, firearms and Russian. Angel and Janos will teach you Spanish, because it's important to know as many languages you can, Raven. And I will teach you how to drive cars, fly aeroplanes, helicopters, and anything you might need to make a quick getaway. Azazel will start your training today." Erik said, taking on his infamous 'Magneto' voice. The voice he used to instruct everyone, a voice that clearly spoke volumes. Erik Lensherr was not to be toyed with.
Mystique gave a resolute sigh. At least she didn't have to deal with Emma. She and the blonde didn't exactly get along. Mystique's eyes settled on Azazel's again, and the fluttering started. Azazel raised an eyebrow, and the dream blotted out.
Hello everyone! As promised, here is the first chapter of Getting Up And Moving On. This story will primarily feature Mystique and the steps she takes to get past Magneto's betrayal after the scene where she takes his 'cure' and as a result is cured herself.
If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me! I'll respond to every review given.
Enjoy!