Family Ties:
Chapter 7
A/N: Ugh! Sorry for not getting this online right away. You wouldn't
believe the case of writer's block that attacked this precious chapter! My
poor chapter.
*****
"Aiden!" was the cry of the X-men as they searched the woods for their two missing members. "Rose!"
Only the eerie silence of night answered them. Jubilee sighed, lowered her flashlight, and said to Jean, "Can you sense either of them?"
Jean paused and put her fingertips to her crown, pushing her limits of telepathy. "I'm trying my best, but I can't sense them if they're unconscious or too far out of my range."
"Keep looking!" Beast urged them, every bit as nervous for Demoness and Twister as the others. "Kurt," he instructed, "I want you to teleport up to the top of that tree there, and try to spot them."
Kurt, practically invisible in the dark of night save for his gleaming yellow eyes, gave him the military sign of respect with a taut smile. The yellow eyes vanished, leaving behind the bamf of imploding air and the faintest pungency of burning brimstone.
The next second, he found himself right above the top of a pine tree. As he latched onto the topmost branch, he felt it bend under his weight. Need to mellow down on the gut-bombs, he scolded himself. Holding on with feet, hands, and tail, he scoured the land around him. And found nothing that even gave a clue to the location of his sister and her pupil.
"I can't find them," he called down. "Do you vant me to look again?"
"No," answered Logan. "Get down here." He sniffed again, desperately, to snag even the faintest scent of Aiden or Rose. Especially Rose. Even after her proclamation of not being ready for a physical relationship with him, he still held deep feelings for her, but he didn't know why. After all, he'd spent more years alone than he could count. Why should the company of one woman be so important to him?
(Any luck yet, Logan?) came the voice of the professor, his mental tone filled with worry.
(Nope. But we'll keep looking, Charles. I-)
He stopped short, snuffling delicately. Yes! There it was! It was faint, but the scent of Rose was there. "I found it," he announced to the others just before he raced off into the dark of the woods with the rest of the X-men struggling just to keep up.
The trail paused in a small meadow. It was picture-perfect, like the kind you seed in a Kodak commercial; colorful flowers, a gurgling little stream, moonlight pouring through like the grace of God. The only thing that ruined this cute little picture was the sight of the wounded, and apparently unconscious, Aiden lying right in the stream. The crystal clear water was colored scarlet with the blood flowing freely from his shoulder. His arm was bent in an unnatural, painful-looking angle.
As Storm and Hank surveyed the boy's injuries, Logan took a look at the clearing. There had been a very brief struggle here, his acute senses told him. The fragrance of Rose mingling with a man's, just by that pine tree over there. Logan's lip curled. From the husky, rancid smell now invading his nose, most definitely a man.
A small, shiny item caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a tranq dart, all of the liquid drained out of it. He gave it a testing whiff and caught on to Rose's scent.
"He's been shot," announced Storm, her lovely features taut with fury at someone attacking her friends. Of in the distance, the kettledrum of thunder could be heard. "Who and why would attack Aiden and Rose?"
"Correction," Logan growled, holding up the dart he'd found. "Attacked Aiden, and kidnapped Rose." Jerking his head towards Bayville, he added, "He took her to town."
"But why?"
Logan frowned. "Don't know." He took a long, hard look at the tiny dart in his grasp, like glaring at it might reveal something that had happened to Rose. HIS ROSE. "Don't know. But let's take care of that kid first."
*****
Kurt couldn't stand the waiting. Couldn't stand not knowing what awful fate had befallen his sister. Couldn't stand.
Kitty's babble.
"We should be out there!" she announced, putting her hands on her hips, jutting her lower lip out characteristically.
"We know, Kitty, we know!" said Scott snappishly, very unlike him. But he, like all of the other students and adults, were worried, confused, and angry, most of all worried. Would Aiden be able to tell them what had happened? Would he be all right? And where the hell was Rose!?
"Well, what use are we just sitting here, huh?"
"We have to wait for Aiden to wake up, then we'll get some answers, okay?"
Kitty thrust her lip out even further and plumped herself onto a seat, scowling heavily. "I still say we should be out there."
"Well, where would you look?" Jean said, trying to defuse the argument. "And who would kidnap Rose in the first place?"
"Dunno," said Bobby. "I don't think we know about anyone who's got a grudge on her or somethin'."
The teens stared at the floor in quiet prayers and contemplation in silence, giving the room an eerie air about it that someone had died recently. When the doors to the medical room slammed open and Xavier and Storm walked in, they all jumped.
"Well?" Jean asked. Over a dozen heads around her nodded like bobble dolls, all asking the same question.
"Aiden will be fine, although he is still unconscious," Storm said, taking off the gloves stained with blood from stitching up Aiden's shoulder.
"So ve're still not getting answers yet?" Kurt asked morosely, letting his hands cradle his tired and troubled face.
"Not yet." Xavier looked around the room at all the upset students still in their uniforms, sensing just how deeply hurt and flustered they were. He sent out a wave of reassurance and comfort telepathically, to ease their fears. "But I am sure Aiden will wake in a short while. We simply have to wait until then, and be patient, my students.
"Now! It is very late, and I am quite sure that every single one of you is exhausted. Go to bed, and if Aiden wakes or we find any sign or clue of Rose, we'll wake you immediately. Good night."
*****
"Ohh," moaned Rose groggily, raising her head from her chest with more effort than she should have had to use. "Vhere.vhere am I?"
"Home, my lovely Demoness!" was the answer from the shadows of the tent.
"Vhat?" Rose looked around, giving herself a devil of a headache with even the simplest of movements.
"Who's there?" She tried to rise, but found she was bound with ropes unto a chair so tightly she couldn't even move. Her hands and legs were likewise handcuffed, the cold metal biting into her skin and chilling her to the bone. She could feel a metal band circling her temple. It was buzzing, giving her one hell of a headache.
She gazed around the trailer, for that was where she was, and the realization of her predicament smacked her full in the face.
"Oh, I'm hurt, my dear," the voice in the shadows said, fake pain dripping from their every word. "Has ten years of our being apart really make that much of a difference?"
That was when the voice was given a human form as he walked out of the darkness. Before he had even taken his third step, Rose let out a gasp.
"Volfgang!"
Wolfgang shook his head at her like she was the most imbecile person on the face of the Earth. "Are you ever going to get my name right?"
"Maybe," she replied with a sneer. Wolfgang hated any answer besides "yes sir", and she knew it.
Like she had expected, he curled his lip, his dirt-brown eyes glistening. He slowly raised a hand and Rose prepared herself for a blow. But then he regained control of himself and lowered his hand. "You always could get me fired up, couldn't you?"
The ringmaster put his hands on the arms of the chair and put his full weight on them. The wood groaned in protest. He grinned cattily at her. Rose knew that this was just to frighten her and, as much as she hated to admit it to anyone, most especially herself, it did.
But Rose Blanch was no coward. Her extensive history made that clear to any doubters.
It wasn't exactly fear she felt now. No, what she felt was more like revulsion for Wolfgang, and even more for herself. Both she and Wolfgang recognized the possible outcome of this situation, one that she had put behind her long ago.
Now that he grinned at her, possessively, she knew she could dismiss him as nothing and disregard his stares as she figured out how to escape. But to her amazement, there was a very angry and very scared Rose inside of her that wanted to run and hide, and was also something that her older self had not been for a very long time - ashamed. Not ashamed for some great wrong she had committed, no it was the way that Wolfgang looked at her that shamed her, the way assumed that something on her part had put her at his mercy. Probably nearly fifty men had approached Rose in her lifetime, and more of them than she really wanted to admit had succeeded, but not a single one had ever made her feel so dirty as Wolfgang did just by looking at her.
Facing Wolfgang on her own two feet, surrounded by Logan, friends, and family, she had thought that she had gotten over those feelings of hopelessness and humiliation. But now, bound and once again at his mercy, part of her felt that she was no better than she was when she had been fifteen. During those times, whenever he had the chance, he had culminated victories over her in their "training" with fondlings, gropings, and much worse indignities, things he told her were his right by owning the circus. The last, worst time for her was right before he had gone to the States to converse with another ringmaster about combining their shows. The consequences had devastated her in such a way that battle seemed laughable. When she had heard that Wolfgang was returning, she had fled, leaving behind the only life she had ever known.
She could see that huge, dumb-looking henchman behind Wolfgang, the one who had drugged her and taken her here. He was so still he could have been a mannequin save for the rise and fall of his chest. If he was watching this scene at all, he hid it well. Wolfgang reached out to cup her face. She pulled her chin up and away to avoid his touch. He smiled at her little revolt.
"I'm so glad Fritz here brought you back, Demoness. It's so very good to have you like this again," he said. His voice took on a cat-like purr. One hand slowly traveled upward, gripped her hair in his fist, and dragged her head forward. The other gripped her chin so hard that it would later boast a hand-shaped bruise. Once he had her under his control, he gave her a grotesque parody of a lover's kiss. He did not slip her any tongue, and this disappointed Rose. Her teeth were hard and sharp; she would have used them well.
Wolfgang, as if reading her mind, pulled away long enough to second, sloppy kiss on her cheek. It made one think of how a predator savored the flavor of their prey before devouring it.
"Mm," he purred. "Tasty."
"I have friends," Rose blurted out, perfectly aware of just how stupid she sounded.
"Ah, yes, the other mutants who were with you the other day? From the Institute?" He cackled and planted another kiss. "I am sure that at least one of them is psychic, so I already took care of that."
He pulled back her forelocks, revealing a small band of metal with microchips welded into it. "You thought I was a mere circus ringleader?" he scoffed, adding a throaty growl. "Unlike my fool of a father, I excel in technology. In fact, this is my own little contraption. See, it repels all psychics trying to find you. Works quite well."
"How vould you know?" she snapped. "The only mutant in this show is Frederick." She trailed off as the truth beamed on her. Wolfgang only smiled at her like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "You.you are-"
"A mutant? I thought you knew that!" He laughed hysterically, clutching his side and slapping his thigh. With one last chuckle, he said, "I know it works because I tested it on myself. I am quite the telepathist and telekinetic, you see."
He turned to leave, motioning for Fritz to follow him. "I'll leave you be.for now. I advise you get some rest tonight, Demoness." He closed the flap of the tent behind him and reveled in the moan of despair he heard behind him.
*****
"Aiden!" was the cry of the X-men as they searched the woods for their two missing members. "Rose!"
Only the eerie silence of night answered them. Jubilee sighed, lowered her flashlight, and said to Jean, "Can you sense either of them?"
Jean paused and put her fingertips to her crown, pushing her limits of telepathy. "I'm trying my best, but I can't sense them if they're unconscious or too far out of my range."
"Keep looking!" Beast urged them, every bit as nervous for Demoness and Twister as the others. "Kurt," he instructed, "I want you to teleport up to the top of that tree there, and try to spot them."
Kurt, practically invisible in the dark of night save for his gleaming yellow eyes, gave him the military sign of respect with a taut smile. The yellow eyes vanished, leaving behind the bamf of imploding air and the faintest pungency of burning brimstone.
The next second, he found himself right above the top of a pine tree. As he latched onto the topmost branch, he felt it bend under his weight. Need to mellow down on the gut-bombs, he scolded himself. Holding on with feet, hands, and tail, he scoured the land around him. And found nothing that even gave a clue to the location of his sister and her pupil.
"I can't find them," he called down. "Do you vant me to look again?"
"No," answered Logan. "Get down here." He sniffed again, desperately, to snag even the faintest scent of Aiden or Rose. Especially Rose. Even after her proclamation of not being ready for a physical relationship with him, he still held deep feelings for her, but he didn't know why. After all, he'd spent more years alone than he could count. Why should the company of one woman be so important to him?
(Any luck yet, Logan?) came the voice of the professor, his mental tone filled with worry.
(Nope. But we'll keep looking, Charles. I-)
He stopped short, snuffling delicately. Yes! There it was! It was faint, but the scent of Rose was there. "I found it," he announced to the others just before he raced off into the dark of the woods with the rest of the X-men struggling just to keep up.
The trail paused in a small meadow. It was picture-perfect, like the kind you seed in a Kodak commercial; colorful flowers, a gurgling little stream, moonlight pouring through like the grace of God. The only thing that ruined this cute little picture was the sight of the wounded, and apparently unconscious, Aiden lying right in the stream. The crystal clear water was colored scarlet with the blood flowing freely from his shoulder. His arm was bent in an unnatural, painful-looking angle.
As Storm and Hank surveyed the boy's injuries, Logan took a look at the clearing. There had been a very brief struggle here, his acute senses told him. The fragrance of Rose mingling with a man's, just by that pine tree over there. Logan's lip curled. From the husky, rancid smell now invading his nose, most definitely a man.
A small, shiny item caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a tranq dart, all of the liquid drained out of it. He gave it a testing whiff and caught on to Rose's scent.
"He's been shot," announced Storm, her lovely features taut with fury at someone attacking her friends. Of in the distance, the kettledrum of thunder could be heard. "Who and why would attack Aiden and Rose?"
"Correction," Logan growled, holding up the dart he'd found. "Attacked Aiden, and kidnapped Rose." Jerking his head towards Bayville, he added, "He took her to town."
"But why?"
Logan frowned. "Don't know." He took a long, hard look at the tiny dart in his grasp, like glaring at it might reveal something that had happened to Rose. HIS ROSE. "Don't know. But let's take care of that kid first."
*****
Kurt couldn't stand the waiting. Couldn't stand not knowing what awful fate had befallen his sister. Couldn't stand.
Kitty's babble.
"We should be out there!" she announced, putting her hands on her hips, jutting her lower lip out characteristically.
"We know, Kitty, we know!" said Scott snappishly, very unlike him. But he, like all of the other students and adults, were worried, confused, and angry, most of all worried. Would Aiden be able to tell them what had happened? Would he be all right? And where the hell was Rose!?
"Well, what use are we just sitting here, huh?"
"We have to wait for Aiden to wake up, then we'll get some answers, okay?"
Kitty thrust her lip out even further and plumped herself onto a seat, scowling heavily. "I still say we should be out there."
"Well, where would you look?" Jean said, trying to defuse the argument. "And who would kidnap Rose in the first place?"
"Dunno," said Bobby. "I don't think we know about anyone who's got a grudge on her or somethin'."
The teens stared at the floor in quiet prayers and contemplation in silence, giving the room an eerie air about it that someone had died recently. When the doors to the medical room slammed open and Xavier and Storm walked in, they all jumped.
"Well?" Jean asked. Over a dozen heads around her nodded like bobble dolls, all asking the same question.
"Aiden will be fine, although he is still unconscious," Storm said, taking off the gloves stained with blood from stitching up Aiden's shoulder.
"So ve're still not getting answers yet?" Kurt asked morosely, letting his hands cradle his tired and troubled face.
"Not yet." Xavier looked around the room at all the upset students still in their uniforms, sensing just how deeply hurt and flustered they were. He sent out a wave of reassurance and comfort telepathically, to ease their fears. "But I am sure Aiden will wake in a short while. We simply have to wait until then, and be patient, my students.
"Now! It is very late, and I am quite sure that every single one of you is exhausted. Go to bed, and if Aiden wakes or we find any sign or clue of Rose, we'll wake you immediately. Good night."
*****
"Ohh," moaned Rose groggily, raising her head from her chest with more effort than she should have had to use. "Vhere.vhere am I?"
"Home, my lovely Demoness!" was the answer from the shadows of the tent.
"Vhat?" Rose looked around, giving herself a devil of a headache with even the simplest of movements.
"Who's there?" She tried to rise, but found she was bound with ropes unto a chair so tightly she couldn't even move. Her hands and legs were likewise handcuffed, the cold metal biting into her skin and chilling her to the bone. She could feel a metal band circling her temple. It was buzzing, giving her one hell of a headache.
She gazed around the trailer, for that was where she was, and the realization of her predicament smacked her full in the face.
"Oh, I'm hurt, my dear," the voice in the shadows said, fake pain dripping from their every word. "Has ten years of our being apart really make that much of a difference?"
That was when the voice was given a human form as he walked out of the darkness. Before he had even taken his third step, Rose let out a gasp.
"Volfgang!"
Wolfgang shook his head at her like she was the most imbecile person on the face of the Earth. "Are you ever going to get my name right?"
"Maybe," she replied with a sneer. Wolfgang hated any answer besides "yes sir", and she knew it.
Like she had expected, he curled his lip, his dirt-brown eyes glistening. He slowly raised a hand and Rose prepared herself for a blow. But then he regained control of himself and lowered his hand. "You always could get me fired up, couldn't you?"
The ringmaster put his hands on the arms of the chair and put his full weight on them. The wood groaned in protest. He grinned cattily at her. Rose knew that this was just to frighten her and, as much as she hated to admit it to anyone, most especially herself, it did.
But Rose Blanch was no coward. Her extensive history made that clear to any doubters.
It wasn't exactly fear she felt now. No, what she felt was more like revulsion for Wolfgang, and even more for herself. Both she and Wolfgang recognized the possible outcome of this situation, one that she had put behind her long ago.
Now that he grinned at her, possessively, she knew she could dismiss him as nothing and disregard his stares as she figured out how to escape. But to her amazement, there was a very angry and very scared Rose inside of her that wanted to run and hide, and was also something that her older self had not been for a very long time - ashamed. Not ashamed for some great wrong she had committed, no it was the way that Wolfgang looked at her that shamed her, the way assumed that something on her part had put her at his mercy. Probably nearly fifty men had approached Rose in her lifetime, and more of them than she really wanted to admit had succeeded, but not a single one had ever made her feel so dirty as Wolfgang did just by looking at her.
Facing Wolfgang on her own two feet, surrounded by Logan, friends, and family, she had thought that she had gotten over those feelings of hopelessness and humiliation. But now, bound and once again at his mercy, part of her felt that she was no better than she was when she had been fifteen. During those times, whenever he had the chance, he had culminated victories over her in their "training" with fondlings, gropings, and much worse indignities, things he told her were his right by owning the circus. The last, worst time for her was right before he had gone to the States to converse with another ringmaster about combining their shows. The consequences had devastated her in such a way that battle seemed laughable. When she had heard that Wolfgang was returning, she had fled, leaving behind the only life she had ever known.
She could see that huge, dumb-looking henchman behind Wolfgang, the one who had drugged her and taken her here. He was so still he could have been a mannequin save for the rise and fall of his chest. If he was watching this scene at all, he hid it well. Wolfgang reached out to cup her face. She pulled her chin up and away to avoid his touch. He smiled at her little revolt.
"I'm so glad Fritz here brought you back, Demoness. It's so very good to have you like this again," he said. His voice took on a cat-like purr. One hand slowly traveled upward, gripped her hair in his fist, and dragged her head forward. The other gripped her chin so hard that it would later boast a hand-shaped bruise. Once he had her under his control, he gave her a grotesque parody of a lover's kiss. He did not slip her any tongue, and this disappointed Rose. Her teeth were hard and sharp; she would have used them well.
Wolfgang, as if reading her mind, pulled away long enough to second, sloppy kiss on her cheek. It made one think of how a predator savored the flavor of their prey before devouring it.
"Mm," he purred. "Tasty."
"I have friends," Rose blurted out, perfectly aware of just how stupid she sounded.
"Ah, yes, the other mutants who were with you the other day? From the Institute?" He cackled and planted another kiss. "I am sure that at least one of them is psychic, so I already took care of that."
He pulled back her forelocks, revealing a small band of metal with microchips welded into it. "You thought I was a mere circus ringleader?" he scoffed, adding a throaty growl. "Unlike my fool of a father, I excel in technology. In fact, this is my own little contraption. See, it repels all psychics trying to find you. Works quite well."
"How vould you know?" she snapped. "The only mutant in this show is Frederick." She trailed off as the truth beamed on her. Wolfgang only smiled at her like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "You.you are-"
"A mutant? I thought you knew that!" He laughed hysterically, clutching his side and slapping his thigh. With one last chuckle, he said, "I know it works because I tested it on myself. I am quite the telepathist and telekinetic, you see."
He turned to leave, motioning for Fritz to follow him. "I'll leave you be.for now. I advise you get some rest tonight, Demoness." He closed the flap of the tent behind him and reveled in the moan of despair he heard behind him.