July 13, 1985
Azazel had never had any illusions about what he was. He knew that he was a murderer; that the blood of countless people soaked his hands. It was troubling because Azazel didn't find it troubling. He'd had discussions with Matthew about whether or not his actions had been, in and of themselves, wrong.
Matthew had been a good listener, one of the many reasons he missed him after his death. Of course he didn't approve of Azazel's killing, but he pointed out that Azazel didn't feel any guilt because he wasn't exactly a murderer. The term assassin had been used to describe his occupation for a long time, but Matthew was the first one to point out that he had never been an assassin either.
He'd been a soldier. His first kill had been in self-defense when he was a child. Azazel hadn't started the fight and he'd killed the man more by accident than anything else. Every other kill had been him doing what he felt had needed to be done. If you saw someone charging at you with a gun, someone whose army was coming to destroy your home, then you killed them and lessened the threat by one.
Azazel had never felt any enjoyment over his kills. The most he'd ever felt was a detached sentiment of a completed job. Sometimes the kills were more violent than usual if his emotions were running wild. However, he hadn't taken any pleasure even from killing the men who had killed Angel. They had given him a job to do when they had threatened his family; he couldn't let them repeat that threat. It was as simple as that.
Matthew had explained that, as there were reasons for what he'd done, Azazel had never felt any guilt about his actions. However, Azazel was very good at killing. When Kurt had been born he'd switched that skill to killing animals in the woods for food. Over time he'd imagined that he was losing his skills; that killing animals was easier than killing humans. He'd imagined that he was growing soft and he'd allowed it.
He wasn't. Perhaps it was because of how much time had passed between killing his last human to his first animal that he'd imagined their difference. The truth was that, in many cases, it was actually harder to kill an animal than it was to kill a human. Since there was no emotional attachment either way his feelings didn't come into it. He always used his knives, since he knew a gun would scare his pray.
Rabbits were faster than humans; they were harder to catch. Bears were stronger than humans; they were harder to take down. The same went with moose and elk. If there was no gun to keep a barrier of separation than you often found yourself in a fight. Azazel had relished his prowess, but even killing animals gave him no enjoyment. It was a job well done; he had to get food somehow and guns were expensive.
When he'd seen the soldiers threatening Amanda he'd been angry, yes. He'd become even angrier when he learned that they had taken his son. The killing had had no malice though. If Azazel had been truly angry then he would have kept the soldiers alive. He'd learned ways to make someone scream. That would have brought him satisfaction.
However, the soldiers were just pawns. He gave Amanda leave to pick up a few possessions, things that she thought they would need or she couldn't do without. Azazel had packed up his swords. In the time to come he was going to have to fight for his son. He didn't know what the soldiers wanted him for, but he wasn't going to let them hurt them. After that he'd find whoever had ordered them to do that.
In the past, when he found someone who wronged him, he'd hurt them to a level he felt appropriate and then leave them alive to suffer the indignities of their injuries forever. He didn't mind making enemies. It complicated things later, of course, but it didn't hurt anything.
This was different and he knew automaically that different actions would have to be taken. This person had hurt his family, his son. Kurt had been his reason for living for twenty-one years. He would never be able to hurt them enough for doing that.
It also meant that he had to kill them when he found them. They'd gone for Kurt, and he couldn't risk them coming back again. He'd have a grandchild in a few months to take care of too; he wasn't about to allow them to get hurt because of a madman. The Devil was coming for the one responsible, and he was coming with a vengeance.
Azazel had wondered if he could somehow communicate any of this to Amanda without scaring her. He could tell she was already a little scared of him after the scene in the living room. She trusted him more than she was scared, but he wondered how she might see his world view. In the end he decided against it.
Besides, she was already going through enough. She'd been threatened, beaten, seen murders, and lost her husband all in one day. With her ongoing pregnancy on top of that he'd wondered if she would break. However, she'd held up with great aplomb as they left the Alps. They'd stopped for one night at the monastery, explaining to Jerome what had happened and why they wouldn't be back. Then they had taken off.
Azazel had started by cleaning up the bodies. He hadn't wanted the monastery to get into any trouble. Everything inside him had screamed to go after his son, but he knew he owed it to the monastery. After that they'd tracked the tire tracks to the road. He'd teleported out of the mountains and into a town that they must have passed through.
Amanda was useful there. Because of her appearance it was easy for her to order tickets and do inconspicuous investigations. She'd found out about the truck and the direction it had been heading. From there Azazel had deduced that they were heading for a dock several miles away. He'd given Amanda instructions upon their arrival and found that they'd taken a boat to America.
It would be America, wouldn't it? His memories of battles fought with the Brotherhood came to the front of his mind sharply. The vague idea of perhaps contacting Magneto floated into his head. It was dismissed almost immediately. Magneto was in prison. Besides, letting him out would be helping the Brotherhood in their war, something he'd sworn to stay out of. The situation hadn't become desperate enough for him to break his vow yet.
His swords itched for activity on the boat ride over. He hadn't hurt his enemy enough yet. He wanted to destroy their resources; both human and natural. Only then would he inflict them with physical pain. When he felt somewhat compassionate, possibly after a few hours, he would kill them. That would be the end of that.
First and foremost he had to find Kurt. He knew it would be difficult and that it could take a long time. He communicated this to Amanda privately.
"But I will find him," he swore.
Amanda nodded. She put her hand on the wall to steady herself before coughing. Azazel cocked his head.
"You are sick?"
"I'm fine," Amanda said, "Just a little seasick…and Blue here is giving me a little bit of trouble. Blue just can't keep still."
She patted her stomach. Azazel had heard her use her nickname for her unborn offspring before. He nodded but resolved to keep a close eye on her. She was part of his family too. Amanda carried his grandchild and was the love of Kurt's life. He wasn't about to allow her to get hurt.
When they docked the trail ran cold. They stayed in the Floridian town for several days looking for clues. Strangely enough Amanda's cough didn't go away. If anything it got worse. Eventually Amanda found that several identical trucks had been seen running through the town for a few months. It wasn't much, but it was enough to go on.
That night he raided one of their secure facilities. He managed to get stealthily in. It was difficult to hack the systems; his computer skills were several decades behind what he would have liked. Eventually a techie walked by, a late night shift. Azazel killed him quietly and took his security clearance. Using that he got in and began scanning through the files. Names scrolled past his eyes, all of them meaning nothing.
He paused when he saw the file on Lensherr, Erik. No; it wasn't that desperate. He warred with himself. What if it became that desperate? Certainly he couldn't go back to that life. Yet, his son's life was at stake and he should be willing to do anything to save him. At the same time he didn't know what would happen if he had to go down the road that he swore he'd never go down again.
Still struggling with himself he ignored the file and continued searching. Finally he found Wagner, Kurt. The fact that they knew his last name made shivers run down his spine. It was replaced soon after by a spike of white-hot anger. How dare they hurt him when the only thing on his son's mind had been his anticipation of becoming a father?
Furiously he clicked on the file. Mounting indignation rose as he read;
Name: Kurt, Wagner
Subject number: 235
Mutant Ability: Teleportation
Use: Possible initiation of Project Wideawake.
Subject test data: Subject is unreceptive to the Mastermind serum, possibly due to shifting skin cells. A shape shifting ability does not exist though. Suggested course of action; removal to Weapon X facility. Move approved on June 27, 1985. Further information can be requested from Colonel Stryker.
Several ideas went through his mind as he read the words. The first was anger; Kurt had been there. They had just missed him. The idea of some sort of serum on him was another cause for alarm. Azazel had no idea what the Mastermind serum was and he had no desire to. Consequently he had no desire for it to be used on his son.
The overall clinical terms used disgusted him further. They talked about him like he was some lab rat. The words 'Project Wideawake' were filed for future searching. Nothing in the file was particularly comforting, only making him fear more for his son and his anger grow against those who had taken him.
Now he had a name to go with his hatred. Again, it wasn't a comforting one. Mystique and Magneto had told him about this Stryker. His lips curled back into a snarl. The man was an acknowledged mutant-hater, a man who used mutants to his own ends and then decided to destroy them afterwards. And this man had his son.
Angrily he searched for Project Wideawake on the computer. He'd thought that he couldn't become any angrier or more fearful for his son after reading his file. He was shocked at how incredibly wrong the assumption had been. For a minute his vision blacked out and he contemplated smashing the computer, as if destroying it would make its intent go away.
A plan formed in his mind. Calmly he scrolled up to Lensherr, Erik. Things had gotten that bad. His file was considerably larger than Kurt's. Azazel had to grin to himself. A plastic prison? He could think of several ways to get in even if he couldn't teleport. Homo sapiens could be delightfully arrogant at times.
With his information he teleported out. He'd have to figure out what to do with Amanda. She was five months pregnant now and he'd already put her in too much danger. She'd been a great help to him and he sympathized with her. Her need to find Kurt was on parr with his. Like Azazel she had sacrificed a great deal to be with him.
Still, it wasn't good for her to put her in continuous danger. He should find some out-of-the-way place to put her in a mutant-friendly community. She could have doctors deliver the baby that way. He teleported into the hotel room that she'd rented. Almost immediately a foul smell assaulted his senses. Azazel wrinkled his nose.
"Nevetska?" he called.
Amanda came from the bathroom, shivering under her a large bathrobe she'd put on. Her footsteps were wobbly and Azazel immediately went over to offer her support. Her hand gripped hers tightly and he realized how much trouble she was having. Up close he saw that there was something black on her lips. Something inside him twisted painfully at the sight.
"Azazel," she said softly, "I don't know what's happening. I…I…"
His heart sank as he led her to the couch.
"One moment nevetska," he said.
He teleported into the bathroom. She'd been throwing up more of the black material into the sink. He leaned his head down and examined it. His heart sank before he teleported back to his seat on the couch. She looked at him with wide eyes as he searched for words. There was no good way to do this.
"Nevetska," he said calmly, "you have been vomiting sulfur."
She continued to look at him in confusion.
"I think this Blue might be teleporter, sulfur in skin, excess sulfur..." he said, trying to lighten the mood, "Runs in family. But…"
"But I can get sulfur poisoning, can't I?" asked Amanda quietly.
"Nyet….nyet exactly," Azazel said slowly, "It will weaken you…possible to have miscarriage-"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"-or you could die in childbirth," he said, thinking of his own mother.
Tears spilt from her eyes. Amanda covered her face in her hands, bringing her knees up to her chest.
"I don't know what to do," Amanda whispered, "I can't lose Blue…I can't…I don't know what to do…"
Azazel gritted his teeth. He hated what he was going to do next, but he didn't see another option. He'd rain hell on the bastard if he didn't help her though.
"I do," he said, surprised at how even his voice was.
Amanda looked up, her eyes teary.
"But nevetska," he said, knowing that he was giving what was left of his family to strangers, "you will have to listen carefully."
