Chapter 12

"…rles?"

Mystique and Azazel appeared in the hotel's lobby, disheveled from the fight. As soon as her feet touched the floor, Mystique's knees buckled. She was utterly and completely numb. Azazel reacted quickly, grabbing her shoulders and hoisting her upright before she collapsed. He carefully avoided putting pressure on her burned arm. Mystique looked shell-shocked as a cacophony of chaotic thoughts swirled in her mind. She wanted to tell Azazel that her arm wasn't hurt badly, that Charles hadn't meant what he said, that she knew it was all a simple misunderstanding…but she could find no voice to speak. As she blankly stared off in the distance, Mystique felt as if her chest had been cracked open and scrapped clean; a complete cardiac abortion. Azazel removed his hand from her arm and lightly brushed messy strands of hair away from Mystique's face, tucking them behind her ear. His fingers lingered by her jaw, and he gently turned her face until her eyes met his. He looked deeply troubled by the blankness of her expression.

"Devochka." He didn't say the word as a question, but as a statement of reassurance. At the sound of his voice, Mystique realized that she was safe, and that she was home. The Xavier mansion will never be my home again. Her lower lip started trembling. Her numbness dissipated and she began to break apart into a thousand pieces. Oh, Charles…how could you? As Mystique stepped towards Azazel, needing to be held and reassured and told that everything was going to be alright, the silver bracelet on her wrist suddenly started to vibrate. Both mutants froze, alarmed that the jewelry was shaking of its own accord. As they watched the bracelet, the entire room started humming; everything metal seemed to be suddenly groaning in protest and pain. Mystique scanned the lobby and then inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide with shock. She quickly stepped away from her teammate. Azazel followed her eyes to the source of her fear and retracted his hands from her face, but it was too late.

Standing in the doorway with his arms tightly crossed and looking absolutely furious, was Erik.

"Where. Have. You. Been?" His voice boomed like thunder throughout the lobby. Mystique opened and closed her mouth like a fish gasping for air. Erik looked at the burn on her arm and creased his brow.

"What happened to your…?" Before he could finish his question, realization broke on Erik's face like water on a rock. "Alex." Charles was accidentally burned once by Alex. Mystique knew that Erik would recognize the injury. His shock was quickly replaced by seething rage.

"Youyou saw Charles, didn't you?" Erik hissed his accusation. Mystique turned her golden eyes downward in guilt, unable to meet Erik's demanding stare. Next to her, Azazel cleared his throat.

"Magneto, we just came from practice and…"

"Shut up! I wasn't speaking to you." Erik's piercing tone rendered Azazel speechless. While Mystique couldn't see his face, she could guess Azazel's mood from the erratic whipping of his tail and the cracking of his knuckles as he balled his hand into a fist at his side. Azazel did not tolerate being spoken to harshly, even from Erik. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently prayed that she wouldn't get caught in another fight. With tensions running this high, she was sure Erik and Azazel would kill each other.

"Well?" Her entire body began trembling. She and Azazel were in deep trouble, and it was all her fault. She looked up at Erik meekly, but could not summon her voice to respond. Erik waited a few seconds before rubbing his eyes in frustration.

"Fine. We'll do it my way. Emma!" Mystique felt lightheaded and powerless to stop the situation as it unfolded around her. If Emma read her mind, there was no way she could hide the visit to Charles. She wanted to tell Erik, she really did, but not here, and not like this. Erik seized his helmet off the coffee table and marched up to Azazel. He regarded the red mutant with coldly narrowed eyes for a few seconds before thrusting the helmet onto Azazel's head. Azazel inhaled sharply and recoiled. Mystique flinched at Erik's use of force.

"There, maybe we can get a straight answer out of someone today." Erik turned away from Azazel and stood a few feet away, monitoring the pair with crossed arms. Ever since questioning Mystique about Margali's bracelet, Erik had seemed wary around Azazel, as if he did not entirely trust him. She was certain Erik didn't believe the line Azazel just gave him about practice. Mystique glanced fearfully at Azazel. She couldn't really see his face due to the helmet, but he was breathing hard and his entire body was tense, reminding her of a bull getting ready to charge. Emma emerged from the kitchen holding a ruby colored cocktail. Her sparkling eyes went wide in puzzlement when she saw Azazel wearing Erik's helmet. The cocktail wobbled slightly in her hand.

"What is going…?" Erik interrupted Emma's question by thrusting a finger sharply at Mystique. If his finger were a blade, it could have stabbed her.

"Tell me where she was today."

"Magneto, why…"

"Just read her fucking mind, Emma!" Emma shrunk back from Erik's infliction, accidentally splashing her drink on her pants. She swore under her breath and tried to brush the liquid away from the rapidly spreading stain on the white fabric. She gave up quickly, and setting her drink on a nearby end table, approached the accused pair. As she passed Erik, Mystique saw Emma shoot Azazel a brief but knowing look. With the helmet on, there was no way he and Emma could communicate. Emma stood in front of Mystique, placed her hands on her hips, and looked into the blue girl. Mystique tried to swallow but her throat was parched. She didn't even attempt to shield her mind. The tricks Charles taught her were for privacy among friends; if a telepath really wanted to see inside her thoughts, there was no way to effectively stop them. Mystique could feel Emma inside her head, shifting through her memories and experiences. The few times Charles had read Mystique's mind, he was always so gentle, as if each thought was a priceless heirloom. With Emma, having her mind read was like being torn apart by wolves; the sheer physicality of the act was almost painful. After a minute of concentration, Emma turned to Erik. Her expression was one of boredom, as if they were all wasting her precious time.

"They were practicing combat skills, in a field in Germany. They were there all morning." Mystique blinked, but showed no telltale reaction to Emma's lie. Azazel crossed his arms and gave Erik and smug look. Erik regarded Emma suspiciously.

"What about her arm? It's burned."

"That's because it is a burn." Emma clarified, "It seems Azazel got carried away during training and threw her into a tree. She rubbed the skin off on the bark." Emma turned to face Azazel and scolded him.

"Really Azazel, you need to be more careful with our little Ms. Blue here. She is rather delicate." She turned back to Erik, and demanded in a haughty tone, "Are we done here? Because I need a new drink."

Erik looked at his team skeptically for a few seconds longer, and reluctantly nodded. Mystique didn't think that he actually believed them, but he was smart enough to know that he wouldn't get any more information right now. At Erik's nod, Azazel tore the helmet off and practically threw it at his leader. Catching it before it hit him, Erik glared at the red mutant then stormed out the lobby towards his private quarters. Emma walked back to the end table and picked up her drink. Her hands were noticeably shaking as she clutched her glass like a cross. She frowned in the direction Erik disappeared. Azazel sighed, combed his hair back into place with his fingers, then walked over to Emma. He smiled at her in relief.

"Emma, I…" It was as far as Azazel got before Emma turned and slapped him so hard across his face that the remainder of her drink was spilled on the floor. Mystique gasped, covering her mouth and recoiling from the sound. Azazel reeled backwards from the force of Emma's slap, his pale eyes wide with shock and his hand instinctively covering the place where she had struck. Mystique didn't think it was possible, but his skin actually looked redder.

"I don't know what sick, fucking game you two are playing at here," Emma jabbed a primly manicured finger inches away from Azazel's face, her tone as scorching as Erik's had been moments before. She shot a sour look at Mystique, "but it's dangerous and it's stupid." She put her hands on her hips and focused her rage at Azazel.

"You know better. You know better than to take her to see that goddamn brother of hers. You could have been killed, if not by him, then by Magneto. What's gotten into you lately? I can't believe I had to… I can't believe I just…" Emma's mouth was open but no sound was coming out.

"How dare you make me lie for her…" Emma pointed an accusatory finger at Mystique, "…and how dare you make me lie to him!" Emma's voice broke when she referred to Erik. The white mutant glanced quickly at Mystique with a mixed expression of anger, trepidation, and…jealousy. Mystique knew that Emma had been Shaw's second-in-command, and when they freed her, Mystique expected Emma to attempt to re-secure her prominent role through whatever means necessary. Erik had brushed off Mystique's concerns about Emma, but the white mutant did eventually win back her position, this time by proving to be intelligent, resourceful, and strategic. In the Brotherhood, she was longer Shaw's dumb blonde; she was Emma Frost, Erik's feared right-hand equal. Now, with Emma's feelings exposed, Mystique suddenly realized that just as Erik was the first person to look at Mystique's true body and call her beautiful, he was the first person to look past Emma's beauty and call her mind brilliant. Erik, it seems, had a talent for making mutants fall in love.

"Emma, please…" Azazel reached out to her again.

"No. I should give you both week long migraines for this shit!" She roughly pushed Azazel's hand away. "Just…just leave me the fuck out of this!" Pivoting on her heels, Emma ran toward the kitchen. Defeated, Azazel watched her exit with a stony expression. He took a few steps toward the kitchen, then hesitated and looked at Mystique. She nodded to him.

Azazel vanished, and a moment later, Mystique heard a shrill voice yelling in the kitchen, and the sound of a glass shattering. The lobby elevator opened and Angel and Janos entered the room, laden with several large shopping bags. Their boisterous Spanish halted when they heard the fighting noises emanating from the kitchen. Both mutants looked towards the argument in confusion. Angel was the first to notice Mystique standing alone in the lobby looking positively ill.

"Qué?" Angel's eyes widened when she saw Mystique's injury.

"Oh Mysty, what happened?" Angel thrust her shopping bags at Janos and ran to her friend. Janos staggered backwards under the weight, swore, and then deposited their bags on a nearby couch to join the girls.

"Angel, I just…we were…he was…" It was as far as Mystique got before the racking sobs that she kept at bay swelled up and became unbearable. She was drowning in a sea of raw emotion. She didn't know where to begin - the look on Charles' face when he saw her, the fight at the mansion, Erik's accusation, Emma's rescue - this time, it was Janos who caught Mystique as she fell, finally breaking under the weight of everything that happened. Angel took the blue girl out of his arms and hugged her tightly, offering hushed, soothing words as they huddled on the lobby floor and Mystique wailed until her throat was raw. Janos eventually ushered the girls toward the kitchen to retrieve ice for Mystique's burn. All three mutants stopped in their tracks upon entering the room.

Azazel and Emma were standing in the kitchen lounge. Azazel was holding Emma tightly, his chin on top of her head and his hand gently holding her snowy blonde head against his chest. Emma was clutching the lapels Azazel's jacket as if she was drowning. Red rimmed eyes and wet streaks marred her flawless face. The visual contrast of Emma's stark white against Azazel's midnight black, the colors of good and evil, was blinding. Azazel was murmuring softly to her, like a parent trying to soothe a child's tears. Emma Frost, the woman who could turn into diamond, looked positively fragile. It was the first time Mystique realized that Emma was even capable of crying. When she realized the other Brotherhood members had entered the kitchen, Emma turned her face away and whimpered like an injured animal. Without word, Azazel nodded and the pair disappeared in a burst of black, red, and white smoke. Angel hugged herself tightly and frowned as she watched them fade away. Janos sat Mystique down at the table and moved to the freezer to riffle for ice for her burn. Mystique looked at Angel, and then frowned herself.

What is happening to us?


Mystique sat on her bed with her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. She was rocking back and forth in an attempt to calm her mind. It was an old trick she had learned from her days on the street. When she was alone, the feel of her own arms had been the closest thing she had to someone hugging her when she was upset. Right now, she very much wanted to be alone.

Her mind was still racing with the events of the last few hours, with the key parts playing back like a movie she couldn't stop watching. She still couldn't believe how the visit with Charles had ended, or how quickly her old friends turned on her. When she left them at the beach, she hadn't turned on them. The groups just had different ideals, that was all. Erik had been very clear that there would be no fighting between the mutant teams unless it was absolutely necessary. The Brotherhood's mission was not to battle their own kind; their fight was against the humans that wanted to harm mutants. She was hurt by Hank's anger, and frankly, Alex frightened her with his quickness to judge her and when he cornered her in the library. Despite Charles's anger, she was thankful that Azazel intervened. She was quite sure that Alex would have shot her then and there.

A short while after Angel and Janos left her to rest, Mystique slipped out of her room to look for Azazel. She knocked on his door and checked his usual haunts around the headquarters, but he was nowhere to be found. She resigned that he was probably somewhere very far away, and after today, she did not blame him. For a second, the thought of asking Emma to find him flashed across Mystique's mind, but this was quickly extinguished by the memory of Emma's earlier breakdown. The white mutant had never been fond of Mystique, but now she was sure that Emma must hate her. As much as Mystique wanted to return the feeling, she found that she pitied Emma more than anything else. Despite her appearance and attitude, Emma was a fallen queen. Mystique couldn't even begin to imagine how lonely Emma must be, and Erik's disapproval this afternoon must have been the final straw. The last time she had seen Erik so angry was on the beach when he fought with Charles.

Someone was knocking on Mystique's door. She hesitated, but at the second round of knocking, she decided to answer. Standing outside was Erik, the last person she expected to see. Surprised, Mystique made no movement from the doorway. Erik held her gaze steady for a few seconds before asking, "May I come in?"

"Oh," she hadn't realized she was blocking his entrance, "of course." Mystique moved aside and Erik strode past her into the room. She closed the door and turned to walk back to her bed, but stropped abruptly. Erik was blocking her way.

"I know you visited Charles today." Erik looked deep into Mystique's golden eyes. Mystique inhaled slowly and matched his stare, saying nothing.

"Emma and Azazel told me." At this, Mystique didn't know what to think, and began to wonder if Erik's statement was a trick to achieve her admission of the visit. Erik wasn't one to play games, but she was hesitant to sell out two teammates who had protected her, for whatever reasons they had, earlier that day. Mystique remained silent. Erik cocked his head, as if he was reading her thoughts.

"You arm is…" he looked her now nearly healed wound, "…was burned from one of Alex's radiation blasts. There was a fight in the parlor. Moria was there, and a telekinetic girl with red hair. Charles had to stop the fight himself, then asked you and Azazel to leave." Mystique's heart sank and she turned her gaze guiltily to the floor. There was no way Erik could have guessed all those details. He had been told about her visit to Charles. Why would Emma and Azazel do that? She braced herself as she waited for Erik to unleash hell on her for lying.

"Raven, how...how is he?" Mystique's eyes snapped up at his broken voice. She was so busy waiting for him to scream at her that she didn't realize Erik was precariously close to tears. She didn't know what frightened her more – the thought of Erik breaking down or his lack of anger for his teammates lying to him.

"He's good. I mean, he's…Erik…Charles can't walk anymore. He's in a chair." She motioned with her hands the wheels of a wheelchair. A lump formed in her throat when she remembered her own shock of seeing her brother crippled.

"You don't mean…a wheelchair? Charles is paralyzed?" Erik words were barely above a whisper. The color drained from his face as Mystique confirmed this. Erik slumped onto the bed and covered his face with his hands. His tears came fast, and hard.

"I did it, I did it, and I left him…oh god." Erik choked on his words as he mourned for the brother he had abandoned. Mystique sat next to him and put her arms around him, but she had no more tears left to cry. After a time, Erik's tears ceased. He asked Mystique for the details of her visit and she told him everything.

"He doesn't blame you, for anything, and he misses you so much. I told him you missed him," Mystique hesitated, then added, "and that you wished things could have been different. That he could be here, with us."

"Not a day goes by when I don't wish he would choose be here Raven. Not one goddamn day."

"You said that Emma and Azazel told you about the visit?" Mystique bit her lip. She didn't want to remind Erik that his soldiers had lied to him, but she needed to know why.

"Yes, they explained everything." Erik looked hesitantly at Mystique. "Emma, of course, easily saw the truth in your thoughts, but she also saw that you wanted to tell me, but that you knew I would react…badly. Emma didn't want to start a fight between team members, so she diffused the situation and approach me when things dissipated. She and Azazel both apologized and swore their allegiance to our cause." Erik paused, then added in a serious tone, "this will not happen again Raven. We are a team, and teammates do not lie to one another." Mystique nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry Erik. I just needed to see him, and if we are not fighting Charles, I didn't see why I couldn't visit him."

"Raven, please understand - we might not be fighting him, but Charles fights for the humans now. When we were a team, he really thought that if mutants revealed themselves and 'saved the world,' then humans would accept us. That did not happen, and for someone who can read minds, he's a fool for thinking things will change. We are the better men. We are the future." Erik swallowed thickly before continuing.

"I've lost all the family I've ever had. When you asked about Charles the other night, I thought...you would go back to him. I just couldn't bare the thought of losing both of you." Erik put his hand over Mystique's.

"Your talent, your unique, beautiful skills are needed here Raven. You are one of the best soldiers I have, and each day I see you becoming more crucial to this team." Mystique smiled slightly but turned her gaze down at their hands. She appreciated being important, but she wasn't just a soldier for him. It did not sit well that he never seemed to acknowledge their physical relationship. As Mystique tried to find words to voice this concern, she was caught off-guard by Erik's next statement.

"I do wish things were different, and that all mutants could fight together to throw off the shackles placed on us by humanity. I never thought I would fight for a higher cause until I met your brother. Before that day in the water, I thought I was alone in the world. I thought my powers controlled me, not the other way around. Shaw may have made me Raven, but Charles…" Erik's voice halted and his eyes glistened again. "Charles saved me."

Erik fell silent. Mystique thought about his statement for a long time. Charles had indeed saved her too, and not just from a life on the street or starvation. With his anger, judgment and his allegiance to the government, Charles saved her from becoming the weak, pretty shell that was Raven ever again. After today, Mystique knew who she really was. She squeezed Erik's hand and he looked up at her expectantly.

"Yes?"

"I prefer if you called me Mystique."


"What a dick hole, making you leave like that when you didn't even do anything." Angel always seemed to have the most colorful descriptions for any situation. It was quite late, and Mystique was sitting in kitchen with Angel, Janos, and Mort. In the past few weeks, Mort had started spending more time with the younger mutants, and tonight the four sat round the table eating ice cream out of the containers. As they ate, Mystique told the others about her visit to the mansion. Erik had retired for the day and no one had seen either Emma or Azazel since the afternoon.

"Charles was just trying to protect everyone. His new student can't control her powers, which must suck because she is powerful. I mean really powerful." Mystique knew that if she ever gained full control of her abilities, Jean could easily be the most powerful mutant they would ever meet. She reached for the vanilla pint.

"Well," Angel continued, "it's obvious that it wasn't Red's fault that any of that shit went down. He was just doing what any of us would have done."

"And that would be what?"

"Protecting you." Angel stabbed her spoon into the chocolate ice cream. "Clearly he thought you were in danger with all the screaming and whatnot."

"You said Charles was in 'mental contact' with the red guy?" Mystique nodded. Mort was fascinated with telepaths.

"Yeah, Charles left an open link to contact him to come back at the end of the visit. Azazel works really well with telepaths."

"Exactly my point," Angel said, riding on Mort's statement. "Red was probably tapped in the whole time, heard the chaos, figured something was up and didn't want you to get hurt. It's the same thing any of us would have done."

"You would have done that for me?"

"Hell yeah I would have! I am not going to sit by and let someone fuck with one of my teammates." Janos heartily nodded in agreement with Angel, and Mort gave Mystique a thumbs-up.

"Man, I just can't believe your own brother would kick you out of the house you grew-up in." Angel reached for a new pint, but made a face when she saw it was mint chocolate chip. Mort happily took it from her and dug his spoon in.

"He's not really my brother. I am more like an adopted sister."

"Who cares what he calls you? Families come in call shapes and sizes. Plus, just because you are blood related doesn't guarantee anything. Look at our families for fuck's sake. Did they accept us? No. A family should be a group of people who love and accept you for who you are."

Silence descended on the kitchen table as the four mutants reflected on this. Each of them came from families that had not accepted them, and it was a topic they discussed over the past few days. Mystique's family tied to kill her. Angel's own mother dragged her into a church by her hair, begging a priest to exorcise the girl because she thought her mutation was the work of demons. Angel ran away when her mother tried to cut off her wings, and she found more acceptance as a stripper than as a daughter. Janos was born into a poor Mexican family, and after moving illegally to Louisiana at age 8, he worked in a team of petty thieves to rob tourists on the streets of New Orleans. Ironically, it wasn't his mutation that got him alienated from his family; when Janos was sixteen, he worked up the courage to bring his boyfriend home, and his fundamentally religious father drove him out of the house with a gun for being gay. Like Mystique, Mort's mother and father abandoned at birth. His only "family" was the orphanage children, who were damaged, cruel, and mean. The four mutants were exiles, freaks, and…

"Famila." Janos smiled and looked at Angel, then at Mort and Mystique in turn.

"We are family." It was one of the rare times Janos spoke English. Angel slowly smiled and nodded her head in agreement. Mystique thought about Janos words for a while before grinning to match Angel. After life with Charles, she never thought she'd be part of any family again. Angel laughed out loud and put her hand on Janos's shoulder.

"Honey, I couldn't have said it better myself. The Brotherhood? We're family, and we're no more fucked-up or messed-up than the rest of 'em."