Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Marvel, and if you steal them Stan Lee breaks into your house and eats all your cheese.

Author Notes: Yeah, after this point all 'Mutatis Mutandis' stories will converge into one LINE. yay!

Awakening Part 4
N

"…as Senators lobby for mandatory mutant registration. Leading the charge against the 'mutant menace' is Senator Hull, who likens the registration of mutants to the registration of firearms…"

The flickering light of the television screen cast blue patterns across the faces of the Acolytes, turning their expressions into strange, frozen masks.

"Erik?" Clarice whispered as the news cut to footage of Senator Hull delivering a fervent speech to the public. Magneto held up one hand, signaling for silence.

"…and it is our duty as Americans to protect our children, and our children's children! We cannot allow dangerous weapons to go undetected when the safety of our families is at stake…"

"Looks like he getting' de crowd pretty riled up, non?" Remy drawled softly as the mob onscreen applauded hysterically.

"He is a fool," Magneto replied, his voice low and adamant. "And we shall stop him." Magneto turned and looked down imperiously at his team of young mutants. Pietro was regarded him with wide, solemn eyes while Remy and St. John lounged with latent anxiety singing in their poses. Piotr was inscrutable, as usual, and Clarice was watching him with apprehension. Jonothon was merely a dark shadow in the entryway of the living room - unmoving and silent.

"If this act is passed, mutants everywhere will be at the 'mercy' of the humans," Magneto said. The contempt in his voice was acidic, like bile. "The first step is singling us out and discovering our weaknesses. The second step is extermination of the perceived threat." His eyes flicked to Clarice as she gasped. "The third step is simply body disposal."

"So. What d'we do about it?" St. John asked.

"Assassinate Senator Hull."

"No…" Clarice whispered.

Magneto fixed them all with an unwavering stare. "I have seen mass graves. I have smelt the stench of wrongful death and heard the cries of mothers whose children were ripped from them, screaming. I will NOT allow that to happen again." He placed a hand on Pietro's head. "We must take steps to ensure our survival. This is one of them, and if we are not brave enough, not strong enough… we too shall be slaughtered."

Magneto strode across the living room and paused at the doorway. "We leave tomorrow morning at 5 am. Be ready." He did not turn around but proceeded to the front door and left the apartment. Silence reigned in his wake.

"Well!" St. John clapped his hands together. "Looks like we all ought to get some rest, eh?" he stood, cracking his back. Remy slid off the couch as well and nodded a goodnight to those assembled before heading to bed.

"See y'tomorrow Clarice," St John said, hooking an arm around Pietro's waist before steering the younger boy down the hall. Piotr grunted and stalked away after clicking the television off, leaving the girl alone in the dark.

Or not.

*Where yer sleepin' tonight?* The psionic 'voice' interrupted Clarice's thoughts and she shrugged.

"My room. I don't think he'll be back tonight, do you?"

*No. Probably not.*

She could hear him approach and stop behind the couch where she sat with her arms wrapped around her knees. "Jono?" she asked tentatively.

*Yes?*

"Tomorrow…" she stopped. Her stomach was cramping itself into knots, leaving her limbs weak and shaking. "Jono, this isn't right," she whispered.

*Wot isn't?*

"What we're supposed to do!" she barely raised her voice above a whisper, but her tone was distraught. She stopped, waiting for Jonothon's reaction.

*Ethics… are such funny things,* Jonothon replied after a moment's silence. Clarice could feel an unfamiliar coldness across the temporary psi-link between them. *They'd kill us, Clarice. We're just preventing future bloodshed.*

She thought about grabbing him, shaking him, shouting, "You KNOW that's not true!" But she did no such thing. Instead she nodded, trying to keep her emotions in check.

*Sleep well, luv.*

"Goodnight, Jono."

* * *

Everything was gray. Hollow gray light, gray sky, gray buildings, gray streets, thousands of faceless gray people…

Clarice wandered lost amongst the crowd. "Hello?" she called softly. The faceless thousands pressed in on every side of her but did acknowledge her presence. "Hello?" she tried again, louder. No reply.

"Somebody help me!" she cried. The crowd did not cease its steady drone past her form, but suddenly the sky turned black and began to drip down onto the buildings like spilt ink. Clarice screamed soundlessly and ran, trying to outrun the melting void above her. It ran down the buildings with alarming speed and coated the crowd, then began to drip onto her arms even as she ran.

Drop drop drop. Little dime-sized spatters of sky. Clarice stopped in the void, holding her arms out in front of her as her mouth puckered into a grimace of disgust. The droplets were a deep, vibrant crimson. Blood.

It dripped from an unknown source, getting in her hair, staining her clothes. Clarice started making a high, keening noise back in her throat, her lips clamped tightly shut, as she wiped at the blood on her arms with shaking hands and only succeeded in smearing the viscous liquid over more of her skin. Trembling, she looked up and saw her father pinned above her, slit open from groin to sternum with his sides tacked open to reveal the hollowed out cavity where his bowels had recently resided.

Scream after scream was torn from her throat, echoing indifferently into the dark. Clarice stumbled backwards and fell, sobbing against a floor slick with hot, coppery blood. "Somebody please help me," she whispered hoarsely, reaching out with the very essence of her being into the shadow in the desperate hope of finding some comfort.

And amazingly, someone answered her.

"Child."

Clarice looked around, tears rolling down her face. Something about the presence stretching toward her was achingly familiar.

"Child."

"Hello?" she called. Dimly, she could see a figure in the distance. She stood and stumbled towards it, losing her balance once, until she stood in front of a man with the most compassionate eyes she'd ever seen.

"I've finally found you," he said.

"I think… I dreamt of you," Clarice murmured. The man nodded.

"And I of you." He smiled and Clarice could feel palpable waves of kindness radiate towards her. "My name is Charles Xavier."

"I'm Clarice," she began, and then started as though shocked. "You!" she cried. "You're the one Erik talks about!"

Xavier paused. "Erik Magnus Lehnsherr?"

"Yes." Clarice took a step backwards. "I should go."

"Clarice, please, wait." Xavier gestured and Clarice paused, wary. "You reached out to me once not long ago. Tonight you have found me again. I cannot believe there is no reason behind it."

Clarice stared at the ground before meeting Xavier's eyes once more. "Eric… he's planning something," she said finally. "Somebody's going to get hurt." Her eyes filled with tears. "Killed."

"Who?"

She was torn. On the one hand, she wanted to be loyal to Eric… her brave, fearless savior. On the other, she could not willingly participate in the injury of another living creature. She had sworn to herself that would NEVER happen again.

"Senator Hull."

* * *

In the Sunshine Motel, Charles Xavier sat up and telepathically contacted Storm, heedless of the late hour. His heart was banging irregularly in his chest and there was a coppery, acidic taste in his mouth. *Ororo, assemble the X-Men,* he told her. *We have an emergency.*

** End Awakening **