The pain was what woke him up from his nightmares. It pricked the surface of his mind slowly, and suddenly the dam burst and it flooded through. He opened his eyes with difficulty and groaned as the harsh light met his sensitive eyes. Remy blinked and the memories of a couple of hours ago came rushing back, starting with the fall to the earth. "Stormy…" He laid back and was still.
His heart clenched and he forced his eyes open. "Stormy!" He yelled hoarsely, trying to sit up. His body protested and robbed him of his breath, and he looked at his and realized he was bound to the bed he was on. Having no energy, he let his head fall back to the table and looked around. Back where he swore he never would be again. And now he's dragged the love of his life into it.
The bright light above his head was mercifully cut, and part of the headache he had formed disappeared, and he saw the purple haired lady again. She was Asian in ancestry, violet eyes to match her violet hair indicators of mutant genes. "So you're the one he's so interested in. You don't look like much." The British accent coming from the beautiful lady was a bit of a surprise.
"I clean up well." Remy coughed as he flexed against his bonds.
"Don't bother. You won't be able to get out of them, and in your injured and weakened state, you have no chance." She stared him straight in the eye and delivered his odds without an ounce of emotion.
"Who are you?"
"Does it matter? You should rest, you've been taped up and given some serum that speeds up the healing process, and it will make you weak. You should sleep." Remy felt the edge of the table with his fingers and tried to charge it, but nothing happened. The purple headed woman looked on with slight amusement. "You didn't really think we'd let you keep your powers did you? Silly." She shook her head and pushed his hand back.
"Were is Stormy?" He asked weakly, his little energy failing. It was harder and harder to keep his eyes open, and spots swam before his eyes, but he had to know what happened to her.
"The white haired one that has Master all in a frenzy? Oh she's in one of the more "elaborate" holding cells." She smirked. "I don't see what all the fuss is about."
"Is she okay?"
"You ask a lot of questions love." Remy sighed and swallowed.
"Please." The purple headed woman shrugged her shoulders and concentrated. As he observed a magenta butterfly moved itself around her head and disappeared.
"She's still sleep. In much better shape than you are. You took most of the hit. Stupid." It sounded as if she added it as an afterthought. Remy was relieved she was mostly uninjured, but knew she was far from safe.
"I need to get out."
"Don't we all?"
"Non, I need to get her out…please…you not like dem." She shook her head in the affirmative.
"No, I am not. But if I touch those bonds I forfeit my life. I have too many things to do. Now sleep, you talk too much." She pressed a finger to Remy's temple and he felt a moment of blunt pain as he fought the nothingness, but plunging into the abyss.
***
Ororo brought her hand to her head and winced. By the Bright Lady, what happened? Things fell into place and she opened her eyes quickly. Remy was hurt…she saw him lying on the desert floor as she struggled to keep awake…then Sabertooth…then a woman…then nothing…
What hit her? She still didn't know, and the deaths of the two humans who were coerced into putting on a show for them weighed heavily on her mind. Sitting up, she looked around her room.
She was alone, her surroundings furnished opulently with tasteful tapestries and rugs from all over the earth, ornate furniture and mirrors from around the world. Her heart started to race as she realized she still couldn't see Remy. Was he hurt, or worse, dead?
"No, he's not dead, so quit crying." Her door slid open and the familiar woman came walking in, carrying a tray of water. Her hair was purple and her eyes were purple, a breathtaking combination taken with her oriental features and amazing figure.
"What are you talking about?" Ororo asked, her voice scratchy. She looked over to the water, which was placed on the table beside the bed. Leaning over to reach for it, she was held back, and looked down in surprise at the shackle on her right wrist.
"I'm talking about Remy. He's not dead." She leaned against the wall and smiled as Ororo struggled to get closer to the water. "You know, I don't think you'll get to it wearing that chain."
"Well let me go."
"Not my decision love." Her hand dropped to the bed in frustration.
"Fine, will you pass me the water?" She made her voice overly sweet.
"You Americans have no manners…" The purple headed woman sighed and passed her the water. After a couple of swallows Ororo felt her strength returning to her. "Better dearie?"
"Who are you?"
"I belong to the Master." She said simply. Ororo raised an eyebrow and blinked.
"Okay…What is your name?"
"I am called Psylocke."
"Psylocke…why am I being held?"
"Only Brainchild is privileged to the inner workings of the Master's plan." She said it as if she were reciting a poem. "Besides you'll know soon enough. He has wanted you for quite sometime."
"I don't care. I don't want him." Ororo closed her eyes and tried to focus her energy…but it wasn't there. She couldn't reach it, but she could still feel it.
"I know what you're doing. You can't use your powers here. The collars had their flaws, and the great Master has learned from them. Now he has done away with them for something of better reliability. This whole complex is engulfed in a large force field. You cannot use your powers anywhere."
"I'll find a way." Ororo started pulling on the chain that held her to the wall. It was sucked in a few inches, and continued every time she pulled.
"Unless you want to stand on the bed with your wrist attached to the wall, I suggest you stop struggling. Don't fight your destiny." Psylocke smiled a half hearted smile.
"I make my own destiny. I want Remy."
"What you want is irrelevant." A faraway look eased itself onto her porcelain face and her jaw tightened minutely. "I am being summoned. Don't hurt yourself." She walked out as silently and as gracefully as she came in, and Ororo's anger overcame her so quickly and powerfully she shattered the glass in her hand.
***
His screen measured a power surge in sector One. Smiling, he turned as Psylocke waked into the room. "What do you have for me?"
"She is of sound mind."
"I told you she was very stable." Sinister said, his computerized, guttural voice filling the room. She sat down and crossed a long leg.
"No, you misunderstand. I mean, her mind is equipped to handle the pressure of her power without damage to itself, while shunting off the emotional overload that could occur. She even has powerful shields for someone who isn't a telepath. Her mind was made to handle the nature of the power she has. And that power is only going to grow."
"That's what I want. You forget who is Master here." A flicker of fear showed itself in the woman's eyes, but then it was swallowed up by cold indifference.
"I know how is in charge here." Her voice steady.
"Then why Psylocke…were you giving them information on each other? Was that authorized?"
"I didn't think-"
"Because I don't keep you around to think. That's my job. You know the punishment. And if you fight, you'll get four times as much." Psylocke gripped the arms of the chair she was sitting in and held back the screams.
"As you wish Master." Her limbs shook as two large men came from the shadows and pulled her up from the chair. Sinister watched with dead eyes as she was half dragged to where they appeared from, to endure torture necessary in teaching all of his experiments who was truly Master. He smiled to himself as he heard the first scream, turning back to the electronic eyes that were watching Ororo try to remove the bits of broken glass around her. He pushed a button and a blue gas jetted from the corners of the room.
Ororo held her breath as long as she could, but the gas invaded her nostrils, forcing her lungs to deflate. Coughing, she moved to put a pillow over her head but collapsed, her long hair covering her face. He smiled and chuckled. "Brainchild…"
The smaller man shivered. With his master's new voice, every word sounded like a curse, and when he called his name, he felt like death itself was calling for him. "Master?"
"Get her ready. She will not be wearing that when we meet again."
"Yes Master." He bowed although he was behind him, for he knew he could be tortured even if he could not see him. Bowing again for good measure, he turned around and left the room.
***
Remy opened his eyes and breathed a full breath. No stabbing pains in his lungs, and his diaphragm contracted easily as if he wasn't injured at all. Mind clear he could focus, and the large lamp that was staring him in the face was off yet again. The purple headed woman leaned into his line of sight, and he smiled at the familiar face. "Chere."
"Good, you're awake. I was worried I had given you too much." She looked relieved.
"Couldn't bear to let dis Cajun die?" Hoping without hope that his charm power wasn't affected by whatever was hampering his powers. He sent it out and concentrated it on Purple Hair, but all she did was stiffen.
"Well well, you seem quite adept in using that. I'm a telepath, you're charm isn't working with me." He cursed loudly.
"Where's Stormy?" She rubbed her arm absently and shook her head.
"I can't tell you that."
"Where de hell is she?!" He yelled.
"I'm sorry, I cannot give you that information. Yelling isn't going to change my answer."
"Den what's your name?" She hesitated slightly.
"Psylocke."
"Den Psylocke, why you work for Sinister?" Remy couldn't go anywhere, with his restraints now metal, securing him to the table at his wrists and elbows, ankles and knees.
"I have no choice." She swallowed, uncomfortable with the subject being herself. "Why did you go back?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did you go back to her? Did you really think we wouldn't stop looking for you?" Psylocke shook her head. " You both were better off without contact with each other."
"I don regret goin' back to Stormy." Remy spat, struggling against his fetters. She shook her head again.
"Then don't regret what will happen to her. If he cannot have her, no one will." His blood ran cold as he watched her leave. He couldn't lose her… He struggled harder, but to no avail. He knew deep down in his heart he was the cause of Ororo's pain right now, and that tore at him more than any injury he could ever have.