Requiem for an Angel
Written by: hotaruchan2002 and meg the fierce lady
A/N: Weeee! Chapter 14, we're in the home stretch!
Chapter Fourteen
Pyro slumped into a sofa and clicked on the television. Frustrated at the interruption of a possible good lay, he flicked through the stations trying to find something to dull his mind for a little while.
He stopped when he saw the face of the reporter Trish Tilby. Man, she was hot.
"...reports are coming in now of a virus that is spreading widely and quickly. It is more deadly than the e-coli virus and SARS. Characterized by lesions spreading rapidly over the body, it seems the virus is at the present time approximately ninety percent fatal. Officials from FEMA are urging citizens to remain calm and immediately go to the following hospitals on the screen where they are equipped to handle this epidemic…"
The rest of the words were lost to Pyro as he held up his hand, finger on the mute button of the remote control. He didn't mute the television for the purpose of cutting the sound so he could fantasize about Trish, but because he had just noticed a minor lesion developing on the back of his hand.
Shoving his sleeves up he examined his hands and arms in growing fear. His breath came in spurts.
Brenna walked into the room and looked at a slightly panicked Pyro. "I hate the news, it's always been bad since they invented tv broadcasting." Brenna said blandly.
Pyro stared at Brenna numbly, panic and fear churning in his stomach, choking up his throat. Brenna didn't seem to notice, as she was staring at the television screen. She grabbed the remote and turned the volume up.
Brenna watched, suddenly absorbed into the story. Anger settled over her, as she turned to look at Pyro. The look on her face chilled him to the bone.
"Suddenly it all makes sense," she hissed, fury seeming to make her more alive, more godlike and frightening. "Erik Lensherr is a bastard as you have warned me. I shall show him that hell hath no fury than woman scorned!"
Brenna stormed off, leaving an even more scared and worried Pyro sitting on the couch.
She rushed down the hallways then kicked in the door to Eric's private office. "Erik Lensherr, you have messed with the wrong mutant!" she roared, unfurling her wings to as far as they could reach, looking even more intimidating.
Power rippled through the room, the very air shimmering with tension.
Lensherr turned in his seat and looked at Brenna, "I beg your pardon?"
Brenna marched up to the desk and slammed her hands against the desk hard enough to make it crack, "you heard me, pal!"
Mystique straightened up, getting ready to strike a blow, in defense of her leader.
"Indeed I did, but of what are you referring to?" Erik said, standing to meet Brenna's steely gaze, "I must admit to a certain amount of confusion regarding this outburst."
Brenna gave him a skeptical once over, not willing to be caught up in another one of his lies. "Do you not watch the news, or even your own people?" She seethed. "There's a virus out there, one that is killing a vast amount of people, specifically mutants," she hissed.
Erik looked up sharply at this, "that cannot be. The virus was supposed to target humans!"
Brenna gasped sharply at this confession.
"You knew about this?!" she roared again, having been left out of the loop yet again. "I told you I could kill you ten times before you hit the ground Erik. A claim I am fully willing to demonstrate. What else don't I know about this plan of yours?"
"Calm yourself, woman!" Erik was not a man given to shouting, but the news of Mr. Sinister's betrayal had driven the limits of his patience. "Allow me a modicum moment of silence so that I may think!"
"Think? THINK?! It is so very well past thinking time Erik! Action must be taken now or our plans will fail! I, for one, refuse to have this plan fail by having half our kind destroyed by a stupid allegiance with someone I've never even met!"
Brenna was livid now, an etheral green glow starting to form around her body. Erik swept around the desk and paced to the window, fuming. Mystique took a step back, face blank of any emotion whatsoever.
Staring out the window at the grounds beyond, Erik finally made himself calm down. Ignoring Brenna's shouts, he turned to Mystique. "Gather our forces," he ordered, "we are leaving."
Brenna steeled herself and blocked Erik's path. "I will not be left out any longer, Erik." She glared at him. "What is the plan?"
Erik paused in his path, "we will carry on as planned. I am going to have a word with our erstwhile partner. We still have time."
Brenna stiffly moved out of his way, and then moved out quietly to a hallway. Still furious and needing some release, she slammed her uninjured wrist into the wall, and then screamed as the pain hit her.
When Brenna left the room, the door slamming shut behind her, Erik turned to his trusted lieutenant, "Raven…"
"I know, Erik," Mystique murmured, bending over the laptop and keying in some commands. She stood and morphing in to Remy Lebeau, she stepped back from the camera's view.
"You called Lensherr?" Mr. Sinister's sinister visage appeared on the screen.
"How long did you expect to keep this from me, Dr. Essex?" Magneto sneered, "did you think me so witless that I would hold up my end of the bargain when you have so spectacularly failed in yours?"
"Failed? What makes you say I have failed?" Mr. Sinister crooned, smiling a toothy grin.
"You try my patience, you jackal," Erik replied, sharply, "you know very well the agreement we have regarding the virus. It was supposed to kill humans and only humans. Yet, I have to hear it from the news, (the news, Sinister!) that many of our brethren are dying from this virus! I was going to give you what you wanted, but I should think not now." Erik leaned back to gesture with his hand. Mystique as Gambit stumbled into view, metal shackles around her/his wrists manipulated by Magneto, dragging her/him into view of the camera.
Mr Sinister hissed at the sight of Gambit, leaning closer to the camera. Erik hid his triumphant smirk, and waved the Gambit doppelganger away.
"In the future, Mr. Sinister, you should think twice about reneging on a deal," Erik said silkily.
"Perhaps you misunderstand the method to my madness, Mr. Lensherr," Mr. Sinister smiled his shark grin, "I have long reaching plans for our mutant brethren, plans that started hundreds years ago, and plans that will continue for a hundred years more. I am thinning the herd, culling the weak, creating stronger mutants. Those that survive the virus will be considered the alpha class. They will be the future of our kind."
"You're mad!" Erik gasped out. "What about now? The humans outnumber us, we'll be extinct!"
Mr. Sinister smirked, "you forget, I have been studying the genetic code for a very long time. Mutation is an inevitable future for more than sixty percent of the current world population. That is a very large number."
The door flung open and a fuming Brenna stalked in, pulling a scared witless Pyro by the neck of his shirt. She whipped the computer around to face her. "And this is what we get for now? How does that aid us in the grander scheme of things? The human world will see this as the next plague, or SARS outbreak!"
Mystique was startled, "Pyro!" she stepped forward and grasped his arms.
Or tried to, anyway, as Pyro flinched away, "don't touch me! I don't want you to get sick too!"
Brenna growled "Enough!" The two stopped and stared at her because of the tone of her voice.
Erik hissed, "Quiet down, Brenna," attempting to turn the computer away from her.
"No, Erik, I will not be silenced. This man claims there was a plan started hundreds of years ago. I've lived much longer than that, and all I have seen is persecution! You will not stand in my way, you so-called, doctor!"
"The Angel of Death, you I have not seen in a very long time," Mr. Sinister bared his teeth, "I must admit, I had thought you dead and gone."
Brenna stood up proudly, masking her own mix of fear and curiosity. "I am the Angel of Death, I cannot die."
A curious Sinister is a dangerous thing, and Brenna had just gotten on his radar in a big way, "how long have you been this Angel of Death?"
"It's none of your concern, doctor." Brenna sneered.
"Oh, I have a vested interest in the future of our kind, as well as the past. You are Brenna of the Highlands, aren't you? Born quite a few thousand years ago, were you not?" Mr. Sinister leaned back in his seat, staring intently at the screen in front of him, "you are the same one. Tell me, have you heard of En Sabah Nur?" He chuckled, "of course you have, you have tangled with him in the past."
"Gods usually do," Brenna said stolidly.
"Ah, yes, I remember the clash of the titans, you facing the great Apocalypse."
Brenna's nerves were starting to feel raw, hoping beyond hope someone would end this so she could walk away not appearing weak. She needed a good belt of whiskey right about now.
Erik grabbed the computer and turned it around to face him again. "We'll discuss this later, Sinister," he said in a rather composed voice that he didn't feel, and turned the computer off. Brenna's legs buckled the instant she realized the computer was off.
Noticing the swaying, Mystique quickly grabbed Brenna before she could keel over, guiding her to a chair.
"Whiskey..." Brenna croaked, "I need whiskey, or tequila, or vodka... Something!"
"I think we all need to get blindingly drunk as soon as possible," St. John nodded in vociferous agreement.
"I agree with lesion face over there" Brenna attempted to laugh, moving away from Mystique.
"We have larger concerns, right now," Erik stated, "Brenna, is there anything you can do for Pyro?"
"Yeah, cry me a river, cure me, right?" Pyro said, feeling loads calmer as he realized what Brenna could do.
"Give me one good reason." Brenna growled, taking off the pendant from around her neck.
"We could've had great sex?" Pyro said, hopefully.
Brenna shot him a glare that could have singed the hair off his balls. "A valid reason."
Pyro paled, "hey, this is my life you're talking about here! I don't wanna die! I'm too young and pretty to die!"
"You heard Mr. Sinister, Pyro. Or do you think you're not an alpha mutant?" Brenna shot back.
Pyro paled at this comment, but the anger inside him was rising. He created a small ball of fire in his hand, getting ready to throw it at her. Brenna grinned wickedly. "You wouldn't do that. You know I have the cure. You hurt me, you die."
Erik could not stand to have his authority subjugated by the two behaving like children, "enough!" he roared, "Brenna, you will heal your brother mutant, or have you forgotten our goals?"
"Our goals? Our goals?" Brenna was frustrated beyond rash thought. She tossed the pendant to Pyro. "Heal yourself, see if I care!" She turned and stormed out, looking for the closest exit.
Pyro stood stock still, clutching the pendant in his hand, fireball having dispersed at Erik's assertion of authority. Mystique eyed him thoughtfully, then moved toward him, "you drink it--"
"No!" Pyro stepped back, "what if she's right? What if... what if I'm an alpha mutant? I'd survive this, wouldn't I?"
"Don't let pride, hubris, be your downfall," Erik ordered, "drink it!"
Pyro looked from Magento to Mystique and back again. Mumbling an excuse, he fled from the room.
Rushing down the hallway, Pyro made his way to what the gang used as the living room. He looked at the back of the couch and saw a familiar pair of black boots hanging over the edge. He made a move to leave but she spotted him before he could. "I found tequila if you want some." She offered, holding up a bottle. "You know, I never would have taken Erik as a tequila person." She mused.
Pyro hesitated, and then thought to himself, 'what the hell,' "I could use a drink." He said, plopping down on the couch beside her. Bolting down the first shot, he struggled to maintain a straight face at the burning taste on his tongue.
After a while of sitting in silence, Brenna looked at Johnny askance, "so. Did you take it?"
"No," Johnny said shortly, thrusting his cup to Brenna, "fill me up."
"Sir, yes sir!" Brenna saluted with the bottleneck, then poured Pyro a shot, "can I ask why?"
"Sure." Pyro responded.
"Why didn't you take it?"
Johnny grinned, crookedly. "Erik thinks it's a matter of pride. Maybe he's right."
Brenna huffed, "men! You're like peacocks. Big stupid peacocks!"
She took another shot before mumbling about men being arrogant.
Johnny laughed good-naturedly, the alcohol beginning to loosen his stress, "maybe so, but we do have soft egos. You kinda stomped on it like eggs."
Belting back yet another shot before handing him the bottle she looked at him, alcohol slowly taking control. "Aww, I'm sorry," she purred, moving closer to him "Is there any way I could, you know, make it up to you?"
Pyro's second head took an interest, "well, now that you mention it… I could use a bit of an ego soothing… you really hurt me."
Brenna moved in and began to kiss up his neck. "I'm sure I could figure out a way to stroke your ego."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure you could," Pyro couldn't remember how many shots of the tequila he'd had. Was it three? Four? He decided to drink one more to bolster his confidence. He searched for the cup that he had just a moment ago, and Brenna handed him the cup. "Thanks," he said.
"You know," Brenna murmured, "does it really matter if you are an alpha mutant or not? Why suffer the virus to prove the point?"
Pyro thought for a moment, and then took the shot. "I suppose…"
Brenna's fingers traced circles on the inside of his thigh teasingly.
John leaned back, spreading his knees at the touch. He wrapped his arm around Brenna, drawing her to him, pulling her onto his lap.
Brenna grinned ferally, straddling him as she began to kiss up and down his neck.
Johnny moaned his appreciation as her lips hit all his sensitive points on his neck, his fingers gripping her thighs right where they met the mounds of her butt. He drew her closer, cradling her curvaceous body to him, turning his head to bury his nose in her hair. Her hair smelled like fresh rain and something underneath was a musk that was wholly Brenna. He breathed it in, feeling it fill his lungs.
He gasped, feeling a sharp pain in his lungs, and he coughed. Brenna leaned back worried, "Johnny?"
"It hurts!" He gasped.
Brenna scrambled for her pendant and poured her tears into the cup, then splashed a bit of tequila in it. "Here, drink this, Johnny."
Johnny, who had been bent over coughing and hadn't seen Brenna doctor the drink, accepted the shot and chugged it back. The alcohol dulled the pain some, and the coughing stopped almost instantly.
"I'm sorry," Johnny said sheepishly.
"Forget about it," Brenna grinned toothily, "now. Where were we?"
"Where, indeed," Johnny replied, hands moving up her back then forward.
Brenna nibbled on his ear then whispered "My room, now," she ordered. Johnny picked her up obediently and moved down the hallway to Brenna's room. He hastily opened the door walked in and slammed it shut behind him.
That was the last thing Brenna solidly remembered.