A Song of Steel and Fire
Chapter 7: How is it You Sing?
Even though Hank had decided to keep her under observation in the med ward, Pele didn't even try to calm down, as the furry mutant had suggested, well knowing he ought not sedate her…and knowing what would happen if he tried. The young telepath sat cross-legged in a chair beside Charles' cot, keeping a constant eye on him. It hadn't yet been twenty-four hours since they'd pulled him from Cerebro. There'd been no signs of Onslaught since he'd passed out, but she was still wary. She knew better.
Over and over again in her head, she asked, Why did you do it? Why? You know how dangerous he is!
The thoughts chased each other around her head in a ceaseless cycle of guilt, hurt, and confusion as she stared at the bandages wrapped around her friend's head. At the very least, Charles would be grateful they hadn't had to shave his head, but he would probably always have scars on his temples…to serve as a reminder of what had almost happened…what could still happen. Just how contained was the dark part of Charles' personality? Taking several deep breaths, Pele finally decided to find out. Raising a hand to her own temple, she sought out his comatose mind with her own.
At first, it was just a typical unconscious mind…drifting among dreams…images of Erik and their son…the three of them together…smiling, laughing…a kiss from Erik…a brief flare of heat…nightmares, too…Shaw with his hands on Eric…Erik vanishing into thin air…Cerebro, for all the complex beauty it could show, showing an empty world. Without the two of them…there was no love anywhere…
However, as she moved deeper, Pele began to feel a layer beneath the unconscious surface that was very much awake. Hesitating for several minutes, she finally pushed through her own barrier, being careful to keep it intact. It worried her to see how thin her shield had become.
It wasn't long before she was confronted by an astral manifestation of Charles' darker self. Smirking at her approach, he leaned casually against a wall as a setting took shape from the darkness around them…the cell in Auschwitz where the two of them had first battled…if it could even be called a battle.
"Well, if it isn't my pint-sized jailer. What brings you to my neck of the woods, my dear?"
"What happened back there?"
"Heheh, it's very simple, Iolana. Charles called on me…and I came."
"I don't think he even knows he did it. His control's just about unmatched. How did you sneak by like that?"
"Charles is a desperate soul right now. There's very little a desperate soul won't sink to. I doubt he would even notice if he killed the lot of you in his current state…just to rescue his precious boys."
Pele wanted to argue, but could she? Really? After all…who was closer to Charles than Onslaught? He practically was him. Right now, the wall that divided them was so thin as to be almost negligible.
"Why did you…the cables…like that?" she couldn't quite manage to make herself ask clearly.
"Ah, yes. That was a nice touch, wasn't it. Mostly, it was a way to stretch the telekinetic muscles, and Charles certainly didn't object to the suggestion that he get closer to the machine. It all worked out nicely."
"He might have died."
"Iolana? Is that concern I hear?" he chastised.
"I know it was you who shut down the alarms. Phrase it however you want to, but you did it…or suggested it be done, at least," she continued as if she hadn't heard the jibe. "Unable to know what was happening to his body…he might have died!"
"I would have stepped in had it come to that. After all, I still need him alive; but in the meantime, it's good for him to push his limits…to walk the razor's edge while he gets used to the fact that he can't do without me…that he wants the power I offer."
"That isn't true," Pele said, her voice firm, even though it was a struggle to hold Onslaught's burning gaze.
"Isn't it?" he fired back. "I should think the waning strength of your barrier would be proof enough of what his desire is."
"No…that's only proof of your desire…and even that I've never understood. After the events that led to your…birth…you seem to hold with Shaw's ideals…and yet you would kill the people Charles loves most…all of them mutants."
"Only because they would destroy me."
"What do you want, exactly?"
"Want? I want what all creatures want: to be what I am. If I must destroy humans in order to create a world where that's possible, so be it. I will destroy anyone who stands in my way…even the mutants."
For a long while, the two telepaths just stared at each other, into each other. Pele was the first to look away, shivering as she closed her eyes. "All right. All right," she said slowly as she began to withdraw.
"You can't keep me here forever, Iolana," he warned her as he faded into darkness.
"I know that," she said, her exterior calm as she re-forged her flimsy barrier, putting strength she hardly knew she possessed into it. "Doesn't mean I'll give up, though."
When she withdrew fully from Charles' mind and opened her eyes, she found herself staring into his blue ones.
"You're trembling," he said quietly, concern in his eyes. "Are you all right?"
Slowly, she nodded, beginning to feel the tremors he was talking about. "Just…very tired…and afraid," she admitted.
"What happened?" he asked her, the look in his eyes saying he did and did not want to know.
"How much do you remember?"
"Just…bits and pieces," he said, slowly closing his eyes. "I remember…they took Erik…and I remember telling Hank to leave me alone in Cerebro. I remember checking on Eric and the other two, but…everything else is fuzzy. I think I heard you call my name…and I remember…feeling pain in my head…it hurt so much," he murmured, reaching a hand up to feel the bandage around his head. As his eyes opened, they began to fill with horror. "Pele, what…what happened? What did I do?"
Sighing Pele climbed down from her chair and came to his side. If she could have, she would have spared him this, but to show it to him was the only way she might stop the situation from getting worse.
"You called on Onslaught, Charles."
For a moment, the elder telepath stared at her in shock. The only word he could manage to get out was, "What?"
"It's true. In your desperation, you allowed him to slip through…to use the powers you know he possesses."
"Did…did I…is anyone hurt?"
"Not as such…just you…and I'm a little drained from fighting against you."
"What…what did I-"
Before he could get anything more out, Pele rested a hand on his, being careful of the tubes hooked up to him, and simply gave him her memories of the past twenty-four hours…her realization of what must be happening, pleading with him, the battle for control, and finally, the sight of him wired into Cerebro, bloodied and demonic-looking.
"God, I – I didn't even realize…Pele…I'm sorry."
"Such is the nature of desperation. You can sink to levels you would have never thought possible. I've reinforced the barrier between you two, but I don't know if it will last…with you in the precarious state that you are…which is why I think you ought to stay away from Cerebro," she said, trying to sound firm, though she still trembled with nerves.
"But…Erik…"
"I'll continue the search in Cerebro. You know I can operate it. You've taught me well. The others are all working leads…and in case you've forgotten, I also know many of the Hellfire Club's bases of operations around the world. I can search more efficiently; besides, we also have the advantage of the fact that Shaw didn't know I was alive until recently. He wouldn't have had any reason to change things around because of what I know. The best thing you can do right now is get some rest and heal up for when I do find them. You've pushed yourself to within an inch of your life and Onslaught will take advantage of that if you let him. Are we agreed?" she finished, her tone not really brooking for any argument.
"Yes," Charles answered, nodding his head slightly. "You…you're right. There's…no sense in risking it."
"Good," Pele said, her shoulders slumping slightly in relief. "Once Hank's finished with repairs and he gives me the okay, I'll begin immediately."
"All right," Charles said. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them before the professor broke it with, "Iolana…I never have thanked you, have I?"
"For what?"
"For…being my safety net. For stepping in when I get stupid. You're so young to see such things."
Pele raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. "You could say that to any other mutant kid. Not me. Besides, I'm sort of responsible for him, aren't I…since I woke him up six years ago."
"No," Charles said softly, carefully reaching a hand up to touch her cheek. "You mustn't blame yourself for that. Onslaught is, well…he's me."
Again, Pele shook her head, gently moving his hand from her cheek and guiding it to rest back on the bed. "He's what other people turned you into. You don't have to be like that."
"Neither do you," Charles protested, seeing the self-loathing in her eyes.
"No…that's what people like Erik and I are for. We know what it is to live on our hate…and it's our job to keep that from being the fate of the people we care about."
"Still…you shouldn't have to offer yourself up…as a sacrifice," Charles said slowly, already beginning to feel sleepy again.
Pele leaned over and brushed the few stray hairs from his face as his eyes slid shut…as if he were the child and she the adult.
"You make the mistake of assuming the sacrifice isn't willingly made."
XxX
The world seemed to lose focus after the rape. Erik couldn't understand why, but he felt a constant weight of exhaustion all throughout his body. He couldn't seem to retain strength anymore. All he wanted was to sleep…to sleep and forget.
He had known pain before; he had known it all his life. Why was this so different?
Because of the shame, a gnawing voice at the back of his head whispers…that he still has this much power over you…that you weren't strong enough to keep this from happening…that this is something you can't protect Eric and Charles from.
As he silently tears himself apart, Shaw's voice joins with his own…a reflection of six years ago here in the present.
"I don't want to hurt you, Erik. I never did. I want to help you…you're like a son to me, after all."
He doesn't need to express his abhorrence for such a thought with words. His disgust is plain.
"It's true, mein kleinen Erik. You were the first young mutant I ever discovered…not unlike our Charles and his gaggle of children. And I protected you. You can't deny that. Your life in the camp could have been much worse if not for me. What would they have done with a freak like you if I hadn't been there to intervene?"
No mystery there. He would have been dead inside a few hours…used for target practice. Let's see how many times we can hit the little freak before he dies. That isn't so much the point, though.
"I would have rather died. I would have rather died than be a part of what you did!" he screams, releasing years of pent up shame and anguish in the sounds.
"And yet here we stand, Liebling…with you so much stronger for it. You certainly would have died had I not done what I did. Why don't you want that for your own son?"
He snarls like a wild animal at this. The mere thought of his baby boy suffering anything like what he went through makes him crazy. "Of course I want Eric to be strong…but not strong like us."
"What do you want, then?"
"I don't want my son to be like me. There's nothing good about me."
I just…want a world where he doesn't have to be afraid…
Then why are you on their side?
This voice ends up being a twisted combination of Shaw's and his.
Even if he never manifests as a mutant, the humans will never suffer the son of two mutant men to live. They'll hunt you all down…just like your first family. You know that.
Eric is running toward him, smiling and laughing as he holds his arms out to be picked up.
"Papa!"
The gleeful shout suddenly becomes a terrified cry as another pair of arms snatches him away. Shaw!
"Papa! Papa!" Eric cries. "Help me! Please help me!"
He runs, but he can't get any closer. He watches in horror as Shaw strips him…straps him to a table.
"Papa!"
"Eric!" he screams, finally breaking through. He throws himself over his son's body like a shield, feeling fire against his back as he gathers Eric in his arms. He grunts in pain, but he holds tight. Eric clings to him.
"Papa! Papa, I'm scared," he sobs. "Where's Daddy? I can't find Daddy!"
"Daddy's right here, Pumpkin."
Erik looks up. He knows that voice, and it isn't Charles. The fiery blue gaze from his nightmares meets him.
Onslaught.
"Come to me, Liebkind," he says with a smirk, holding out his arms. Erik tries to hold onto him, but the little boy slips through his arms somehow, walking toward Onslaught as if in a trance. The demon smiles at Eric as he gathers him in his arms, cradling him against his chest. As Eric cries quietly, Onslaught sneers back at him over his head.
"Daddy, I don't feel good."
"It's going to be all right, baby. Just let it out."
Onslaught's sneer widens as Eric cries harder, and the crying suddenly turns into screaming as a pair of large, leathery bat wings literally burst out of his shoulder blades.
"Eric!" he shouts, trying to get to him, but unable to move.
"Admit it. This is what you want for him," Onslaught hisses viciously, still somehow managing to comfort the little boy.
"Shut up!"
"Well, something like this, anyway," he says quietly as Eric's screaming slowly begins to lessen. Blood trickles down his back as he clings to Onslaught, the wings occasionally twitching on their own. As the minutes pass, they look less and less like Charles and their son and progressively more demonic. As Onslaught stares at him, fire seems to spring up around them. "Whether or not you want him to be like you, it's the path he's on already."
"Stop this," he mumbles as he shakes his head, barely able to hold the apparition's gaze. "I don't want this."
"Who knows? Perhaps our little Eric Xavier will have a Dresden of his own someday…just like his Papa," Onslaught says, laughing as he vanishes into the flames with Eric. Then, out from the orange-red tendrils of fire emerges the ruined city itself. Even now, he can still hear Charles' despairing voice in his head.
Erik…what have you done?
I didn't…mean to…
Again, he can hear that little child crying…that same helpless voice from six years ago…that innocent baby he'd left to die out of his own shame and horror. For a moment, he can see Eric's face in the flames…and then, worse still…the little girl with the lovely brown curls and the haunting grey eyes.
Raine…
"Es tut mir leid…I'm so sorry I didn't protect you…kleine Regentropfen…" he whispers, his voice breaking.
From the humans, Onslaught whispers to him. You didn't protect her from the humans…and you didn't protect Charles from the pain of that loss.
"No," he hisses back. "In the end…it was Shaw. He killed her…and he hurt Charles."
"Yes. Yes, I did."
He can see Shaw appearing from the flames now, but it isn't his voice coming from his mouth…it's Onslaught's.
"And Erik isn't strong enough to protect them from me, is he?" he taunts. "But there might be someone who is…someone who's strong enough to equal even Onslaught in power."
Magneto.
XxX
He's running through the trees. He doesn't know why, but for some reason, he's very excited.
"Daddy! Papa!" he's shouting as he runs, even though he's out of breath. That must be it. Yes! He's finally going to see them again.
"Yes, come to me…mein kleinen Eric."
Vaguely, he thinks something's wrong, but he doesn't care. He's so close now. He's going to see his parents again.
"Papa! Daddy!" he shouts as he finally breaks out of the forest…and there they are, waiting for him.
"Eric!" Daddy calls out to him, smiling as he holds out his arms for him. Eagerly, he runs into them, resting his head gratefully against his daddy's chest as he picks him up and spins him around.
"I missed you so much," he says, nearly in tears.
"I know, sweetheart. We missed you, too, but everything's going to be all right now."
"Did you beat the bad guys?"
"Not…exactly, no," a different voice answers. Stiffening, Eric looks up to find that it's not Daddy holding him…but Shaw. Glancing around fearfully, he finds that both his parents have vanished and he's alone with the bad man.
"Where are Daddy and Papa?" he asks. He can feel his lower lip start to tremble, but he's not crying yet…even though he really wants to. Shaw shakes his head.
"It's a terrible thing, Eric. Your parents just went off on their own. They abandoned you."
"That…that's not true," he protests, fighting sniffling with all his might.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your parents just don't love you anymore. They left you to me."
"No!" he screams, beating his fists against the man's chest. "Put me down! I want Daddy and Papa!"
"I'm sorry, Eric, but you're never going to see them again. You belong to me now," Shaw says, smiling his disgusting smile as he presses his lips harshly against his neck.
"No…no!" Eric cries, struggling to get free, but too weak and frightened to do much good. "Let me go!"
"I told you, Liebkind, you're mine," Shaw says as he slips a hand inside his shirt, splaying hot fingers across his belly. Again, the weird feeling starts up in his tummy.
"NOO!" he screamed as he bolted awake.
Almost instantly, the den was a flurry of movement. Wind Song and his sister were yipping in concern. Firestorm was up from where she'd been lying and was soon beside him, licking his face.
"Eric?" he heard Rosie's voice from outside. She and Alex slept above ground with the other wolves. Her face soon appeared at the mouth of the den. "Eric, are you all right?"
Sobbing, Eric crawled out of the den and into the young woman's arms, wrapping his own tightly around her.
"Where's Daddy and Papa? I want Daddy and Papa!" he cried. "I wanna go home, Rosie! I want Daddy and Papa!"
"We can't go home yet, little squirrel. I'm sorry, but it's just not safe," she explained as she cradled him close, gently rubbing his back and planting little kisses on top of his head.
"I want Daddy and Papa!" he cried a little louder. "He…he said that…they don't love me anymore!"
"It was just a bad dream, Eric," she soothed him. "Why would you believe anything that man tells you? He's a liar."
"But they…they left me!" he cried, sobbing as if his little heart were breaking.
"Just a nightmare," she continued to placate him, rocking him gently. "Your parents love you very much, and I know they miss you just as badly, but we have to stay hidden until they come get us. It isn't safe right now."
"What if…they d-don't ever come?" he asked, sniffling helplessly.
"That won't happen," she said firmly before beginning to hum, timing the soothing melody with her rocking. Eric cried for a while longer, but the motions and the soothing vibrations of the lullaby eventually began to calm him. By the time Artemis laid him back with his adopted siblings, he had finally fallen back asleep.
XxX
Charles had first allowed Pele to use Cerebro on her twelfth birthday, and at that, only after much poking and prodding from her.
"It's not like anything you've ever experienced before," he'd warned her. "I know you think you've seen everything, but this is completely different. It will be a little bit like when your power first manifested. Do you think you're ready for that?"
She'd been like any other kid…foolishly confident she could handle anything. After all, she had seen everything…hadn't she?
As it turned out, she had not. She really had not.
The phrase 'taking a drink from a fire hydrant' didn't even begin to cover it. For a moment, she was lost. She was everything and everything was her…but Charles had held onto her, helping her to find her way to solid ground, and she'd been getting stronger ever since.
Normally, she enjoyed working in Cerebro, but if she were honest with herself, today was different. Even though Hank had repaired the console and cleaned it off, her imagination was still too vivid and she had no trouble picturing Charles' blood splattered across the silvery surface. Shivering slightly, she brushed the image away and reached for the helmet, plunking it down on her head.
"You gonna be all right in here?" Sean asked her. Save for Charles and Hank, the others were all upstairs pretending to be useful…even though they all knew the real power in this venture was in this room.
"I'll be fine," the young telepath reassured her friend. "I'm not going to go crazy over it like Charles did."
"If you say so," the redhead drawled, watching her warily out of the corner of his eye.
"I don't know how long I'll be at this, so you might want to clear out," she warned him.
"All right," he said slowly, moving backward along the catwalk. "Don't do anything stupid, yeah?"
Yeah, she agreed just as the door was closing.
Once the connection was live, Pele just let herself sink into it for several moments…just feeling. She sank herself deep in the great, wide world around her, just breathing it all in, feeling every sensation.
Once she was secure in her position and she'd mostly come down from her high, she did what Charles had done…sought out the three absent members of their family.
It comforted her to know that at least they were safe. Caring for Eric and each other, Artemis and Alex's bond was growing even stronger. Eric was terribly homesick, but he was coping, and he was beginning to care for the wolf pack as a second family.
Beyond their safe haven, though, lay the rest of the world. Pele searched every base she knew of, tapped every contact of the hellions' she'd been familiar with, but she could find no trace of Shaw's whereabouts…no whisper of his plans. It was as if he and the others had simply vanished.
As had happened with her friend before her, she began to lose track of time as she searched. Through old contacts, she followed lines of thought to new bases that had been created since she'd been carried out of Auschwitz, still turning up empty. She searched…and searched and searched…until, quite suddenly, she came face to face with a very familiar mind.
Hello, Pele, Emma's voice filled her head.
Hello, the younger telepath replied stiffly, knowing better than to try and read her mentor when she didn't want to be read, even with the power of Cerebro behind her.
So Xavier's got you working that beast now. Impressive.
Where are you hiding, Emma? What's Shaw done with Erik?
Well, Azazel and I are somewhere north of Boston. I was actually expecting to deal with Charles, but I suppose you'll do just as well.
Emma…Pele interrupted her before she could continue, fairly certain she knew where this was heading. Why…why did you lie to Shaw six years ago? Why did you save me? You taught me…it was better to let the weak die. Why did you have my life spared? She asked. Of the many things that had happened in her life, this was the one thing she'd never been able to reconcile for herself.
It…would have been a waste to have you die that night…and Sebastian would have let you. You were never weak, Pele. Even I can barely stand up to Onslaught. Like Erik with Sebastian, you're…something like my star pupil. If you must die…I would almost prefer it to be at my own hands.
Pele sighed inwardly, admitting to herself that she'd, perhaps, been hoping for something different…but this was the closest Emma could come to it. She would have to be satisfied.
So…I take it I'm meant to serve as a vessel?
Just so. Let's see how much you can take.
With that, the young telepath was inundated with memories that were neither hers nor Emma's. She became Erik…stripped and strapped down…burning in pain and delusion…powerless…used…defiled…shamed…
Together with this, she became Shaw…determined to root out weakness…awaken power…but with a certain taste of sadistic joy for the pain that was caused…taunting…mocking…and a very specific challenge.
Try and stop me, Charles.
Overwhelmed, Pele had no choice but to pull back, crying out as she broke the connection. As she shoved the helmet off her head, she stumbled back from the console, finally tripping over her own feet and falling to the catwalk. Vaguely, she heard the door open.
"Are you all right?" she heard Hank's voice asking as a pair of strong arms gathered her up.
"How…long?" she managed to make herself ask, her throat hoarse from lack of fluids.
"Not quite forty-eight hours," Hank answered. "Did you find anything?"
"I…I saw…oh, God," she whispered, bringing her hands up to cover her eyes. How was she ever going to tell Charles? How would he react? Certainly, she could try to keep it from him, to spare him the pain of it, but fewer things in life were stupider than attempting to lie to a telepath…especially one who was on the absolute edge of his control.
What were they going to do?
XxX
(A/N) Translations: Es tut mir leid = I'm sorry. Kleine Regentropfen = little raindrop.
