Chapter 2: Criminal
1 year, 10 months ago
Storm was true to her word, and turned him in to the police, that bitch! He didn't even get the chance to leave the state!
The minor frostbite on his hands had healed nicely to, allowing him to be cleanly fingerprinted. Not that he'd never been fingerprinted before.
As he sat in an interrogation room, waiting for some bozo cop or fed to come in and play 20 Questions, he stared at his reflection, at his war wound. Even if the gash healed properly, which it probably would given Storm's professionalism, the scar would be ugly and fairly visible, like a birth defect. People would stare, mutants would stare, Bobby would guiltily stare.
He could feel the room growing colder as the cops lowered the thermostat behind the glass. That trick would work on anyone else, but not him. He could be frozen solid and eventually thaw himself. The door finally opened a couple seconds later and a well-built man with blonde hair and an expensive-looking suit entered, sitting across from him.
"John Allerdyce. Looks like it's my lucky day." he said as he set some files and folders down. He already knew what was inside them: crime scene photos and police reports of all the arsons, thefts, and murders he had committed since he was forced to fend for himself on the streets at the age of twelve.
"I must say, I'm not really a fan of your work. Burn victims are one of the worst." the fed said, opening a file and showing him pictures of bodies charred beyond recognition. "These two," he said, holding up one of the photos, "were your very own parents. Flesh and blood. You must be one cold-hearted psychopath." he stated, staring into John's eyes, studying for any micro expressions that gave any emotion other than boredom.
"They were abusive drunks. Barely remembered to feed me, even as a baby. When they saw me playing with fireballs rolling up and down my arms, they lost their shit. Nearly beat me to death and dumped me in a gutter. I was pissed, they deserved what I gave them." John said, smiling a little at the memory of their deaths.
He confessed to every other crime the man presented him with, ranging from shoplifting to murder. He had no way out, so he just rolled with it. After all, he was responsible.
The fed left, satisfied, and left him alone in the room. John sighed and closed his eyes, wanting this to be over. 'Just lock me up and be done with it.' he thought, cracking his neck. He knew he could handle himself in prison, even without a lighter. He wasn't a scrawny little kid anymore. He was lean, fit.
The trial was a speedy one, he plead guilty, proving a jury obsolete. He was sent to New York City's Maximum Security Mutant Institution, which was just a fancy name for 'mutant concentration camp'.
A month passed where he was used as slave labor alongside a hundred other incarcerated bastards. Everyone was kept in their own almost too small room with a cot and a bucket. And the meals were bland, but better than starving. And after that first month, he heard he had a visitor.
He was lead to the previously unseen visitation room, still wearing his wrist and ankle shackles, and was pushed into a seat where a guard stood directly behind him. He tugged absently at the collar of his bloody, sweat-stained, dirty uniform as he waited, getting fidgety. Who the hell was visiting him, and why now?
A door opened and another guard came over, ushering over…no way…
"Thank you." Professor Xavier said, sitting down. The two mutants looked at each other, one with concern and pity, the other with pure shock. What happened to the wheel chair? How was he alive?!
"So…you're my lawyer or something, Professor?" he asked, trying to get over his unease by cracking a wise-ass remark.
Xavier looked up at the two men. "Could you gentlemen excuse us for a minute?"
Pyro smirked, knowing the guards wouldn't leave their posts even if their dicks were on fire. Imagine his surprise when the two walked over to the other side of the room, then his stupidity at remembering how strong of a telepath he was talking with.
"So, Storm said you were dead." he blurted.
"For a short while, I was. I was just a consciousness without a body." Xavier replied.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what freaky mojo brought him back all shiny and new.
"I'm here to offer a proposition." Xavier replied, placing his hands on the table.
"I'm not the marrying type." he replied.
Xavier's face showed not even a crack of a smile. "I had a talk with the District Attorney, who, after some convincing, was willing to let you be released to the school under house arrest."
"No deal." he answered quickly, wishing he could cross his arms for emphasis."
"No?" the Professor asked, not really surprised.
"Use your head. A traitorous, convicted killer like me would be crucified at your perfect little school." he said, unable to keep the hateful tone from pushing through.
"I can make sure that wouldn't happen."
"I said 'no'. I left for a reason, and I'm not going back for the same reason. I don't belong there." he said, starting to feel frustrated.
"I can still get you out of here, get you a new start." the Professor suggested.
"Ha. Right. New start. Sure, why not?" he said. Anything was better than fucking here.
1 year, 7 days ago
He went to the concrete bunker that housed the Brotherhood, and had been living there for almost a full year now. He much preferred the solitary forest to solitary confinement, and the canned food stored here was better, too.
Every once in a while, a mutant or two would drop by, wondering about the Brotherhood, wanting to join, but he would wave them off. The Brotherhood didn't exist anymore.
He was sitting comfortably in a lawn chair near the bunker's entrance, grateful for the spare lighter he had kept underground as he played with it. Who knew tossing a fireball in your hands like any other ball could keep you occupied for so long?
"Excuse me?" a man asked from behind.
"Sorry, we're no longer taking recruits. Try your luck somewhere else." he said, not turning his attention away from the dancing flame in his hands. How on Earth these guys knew where this place was, he'd never know.
"Not even for a former member?" the man asked.
Pyro looked up, curious. He turned around as his fireball poofed away. "Holy…no way! James?" he asked, rising to his feet quickly.
"Howdy." the duplicator said with a smile.
"How did you…" he started to say.
"I had some help busting out." Multiple Man said, motioning for someone to come forward.
He gawked in shock when Mystique emerged in her full, mutated beauty. After a couple seconds, he closed his mouth after realizing it had fallen open.
"She busted me out last week." Multiple Man said, starting to ramble about the process, but Pyro barely heard him, trying not to stare at Mystique like a drooling oaf.
"How are you…you know, back to normal?" he asked.
"That's the brilliance of humanity's errors at work." she said.
"Guess the cure's only temporary." Multiple Man said.
The two of them approached him, and they all exchanged respectful handshakes and who-gives-a-shit-if-this-is-too-long hugs.
"So how has your past year been? As fun as ours?" Mystique asked.
"Got a free month or two? It's a long story." he said, and grabbed two more chairs from inside the bunker.
The three mutants exchanged their past year's 'pleasantries' and reminisced on some of their better moments together from before Alcatraz. James was incarcerated at a different prison up until Mystique recently reacquired her abilities and posed as the warden to get him out after some research and wanting to reconnect. Raven, on the other hand, was on the verge of suicide after many failed attempts at assimilating into human society. She was actually tying her own noose when she noticed the first blue scales reappearing!
When Pyro informed them on the battle, he caught them glancing at his scars every fem moments. "Do you wanna touch them or something, James?" he asked, noticing the younger of the two was staring more.
"What? No. No!" the duplicator insisted, looking down awkwardly.
"Here, get it out of your system. It won't hurt." he said, shoving a hand forward.
After a brief moment of hesitation, Multiple Man softly touched the almost glossy patched of scarred skin that marred the back of Pyro's hand, then the rougher black skin on his wrists. "What's it like to have frostbite that bad? Did it hurt?"
"Hurt, no. The tissue damage was so severe I couldn't feel a thing." he answered, pulling his hand back. "Still can't feel my wrists. Constantly have to check them, make sure they're not scratched or something dumb like that." he added.
"So what happened after Alcatraz?" Mystique asked, prompting him to explain his time as a convict and his lonely, but content life in the forest.
"Has Erik tried to contact you?" she asked.
"Nope. Don't really care if he does or doesn't." he replied snappishly, standing up and stretching his cramped muscles.
"Woah, hostility." Multiple Man observed. "Isn't Magneto, I don't know, like your muse or something?"
"Not anymore. He's dead to me." he replied, heading underground with his lighter. He flicked it open, hoping the tiny flame would calm his sudden rage at Magneto. How could he just leave him on the island, or not even a message in prison? He could've sent someone to at least see how he was doing!
After a couple minutes, Mystique came down and sat next to him on the floor, her hands in her lap while he had one knee drawn up to his chest. The two of them were quiet for a while, staring at the flame in Pyro's palm.
"You know," he began, still looking down, "when we left you…that day…I was beyond pissed at Magneto. We had a pretty intense screaming match. It was wrong to leave you there, I know that must have sucked."
" 'Sucked' is putting it mildly. I was stranded, naked and powerless in the middle of the road." she described. He was starting to feel guilty again and he turned his head away. "But I don't blame you. You're just a kid, following the lead of his boss. You don't need to be sorry. I could see you didn't want to leave me there."
He looked back at her, smiling faintly.
"Tell me, how would you feel if we made our own Brotherhood? We'll be on low profile, we'll do things our way. We won't abandon each other. Erik's taught us enough, we can manage." she proposed. Where the urge came from, he had no idea.
'Could we? Should we?' he thought, weighing his options. On one side, it would be nice to unite their kind again. On the other, Magneto might show up, and he wasn't ready to see him yet, not after all this time. Oh, and the X-Men would probably think them a threat and blow them to Kingdom Come.
"So, what'd he say? Are we a go on Brotherhood 2.0?" Multiple Man yelled from above ground.
He got to his feet, his decision made. "It's smart to band together in case another war ever comes around. Sure, why not? Let's get to work." he said, green-lighting the proposition.
2 months ago
They had recruited three mutants the past ten months. It seemed fewer and fewer mutants found their way to the forest. Their first was Sil, a black and green skinned, amphibious seventeen year-old. Gender-wise, Sil was a mystery. Appearing semi-amphibious meant no external genitalia, and just enough diminishment of defining qualities. Plus, the name wasn't exactly specific to a gender, and Sil's voice could go either way, a deep feminine or a high-pitched masculine. Multiple Man actually speculated mutant with the ability to breathe underwater was internally hermaphroditic. Pyro didn't buy into that, and Sil wouldn't confirm or deny it…wouldn't give them a human name either. They figured Sil enjoyed the attention.
About two months after Sil's recruitment, they brought in Jamile, sometimes known as Chameleon. He was 19, and kept his hair high and tight, like in the Armed Forces. When asked if he was a soldier or marine, Jamile laughed and said the recruiters wouldn't take him in due to being a mutant. His brown eyes were a lot like Pyro's, cold and ever-watchful, showing he too, had been forced to grow up early and on the run.
Then a whopping seven and a half months passed, and it was just the five of them. They got comfortable around each other, trusted each other. And then Sabrina came along, a woman of almost model beauty and complexion. Sky blue eyes, blonde hair down to her waist, plump lips, fair, creamy skin, but constantly wearing makeup. It didn't take a trained eye to show she had a nose job and fake boobs, either. When finding out about her, they learned she didn't take on a mutant name, even though she was 22. Her ability was aerokinesis: she could create and control wind. Pyro made the mistake of calling her gift dumb, only to be proven wrong when she blasted an abrupt, hurricane-force breeze at him. He struck a tree, almost suffering a concussion. She proved him the hell wrong, and she wouldn't let him live it down; she would brag and brag day in and day out until he had enough. Let's just say the two shared a violent altercation. She apologized to him the morning after their fight, still sporting a partially-visible black eye behind her sunglasses.
Two weeks later, their fourth recruit showed up, along with a long unseen face, Magneto. Mike's welcome was overshadowed by Magneto's arrival. The four members of the old Brotherhood looked at each other, none of them daring to speak first. The recruit and others knew the situation wasn't exactly friendly, and they backed off.
"You're still here." Magneto said, breaking the tension.
"Where else would we go?" Pyro asked, examining the looks of his old commander. Age was not treating him well, and neither was being cured for a while. It probably gave him an ulcer.
"I was happy to hear you made it out of Alcatraz alive, Pyro. And you, Mystique, look beautiful as ever." Magneto continued, sensing partial hostility.
"Bite me." she retorted, and stormed off.
Pyro watched her go before looking back at one of the country's most well-known mutant terrorists. "What she said. We're not forgiving you that easy. What you did to her, leaving me to die, not even bothering to help us out, it won't be forgotten." he said, keeping his rage in check. No need to scare off the new guy.
However, he wasn't a complete asshole. The guy wasn't able to survive on his own. "You can stay here only because I allow it. But you're gonna have to make an effort if you want to be part of us again." he said, verbally marking the chain of command.
