X-Men: The Savage
Nightcrawler
"I ain't a damn delivery boy." Logan had finally met someone who was just as unmovable when his mind was made up.
"You agreed to the position."
"If ya wanted me on yer team, you shoulda known that I'm a killer. I do search and destroy, not search and retrieve."
"Time to expand your horizons." The door slammed shut behind Trent. Not even Logan had enough balls to go in after the door had been slammed, not after the first couple of times. It was an unspoken rule, like a child makes about his parents, and informs his friends about so they don't slip up and piss him off.
In many ways, Trent was more like the president of a company than a parent. Everyone tried to look busy and important when he walked through, except Logan. He adapted to the rules as they were told directly to him by Trent, and not a moment sooner.
He tried leaving, once, but soon found out that he couldn't fight off a whole planet full of people that hated him. All the humans cared about was the fact that he was a mutant, and Xavier just cared about his damn base. It seemed that the only people that didn't want a war were living under one roof; everyone outside the mansion was at each other's throat.
The mansion was beyond any beauty that Logan thought possible in such a world. The irony was that it was the Xavier family mansion. Trent had taken it from Xavier when he wasn't paying attention. It was originally meant to be bait, but it ended up serving an unexpected purpose. Xavier would launch no attacks on his family's property. He had been removed from it, and then tortured, making any stable time in that house all the more important, and Charles wouldn't dare destroy those memories of peace.
But the place where that peace was made was now the base of operations for a war against him. And now, Logan was being forced to go find another soldier to fight this war. "What the hell does he look like," Logan shouted through the door.
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Yellow eyes watched the helpless man from the shadows. He'd made the fatal mistake of getting separated from the rest of his lynch mob. Kurt felt like a lion eyeing dried up old antelope of the herd. His improved night-vision, however, showed him that there was yet another lion eyeing the same prey. Kurt's eyes widened as a huge claw came out from the man's left arm. This was undoubtedly the man on the top of the F.O.H. Top Ten Most-Wanted list. There wasn't a person in America that hadn't seen the posters, billboards, armbands, and t-shirts that had his face and his claws on them. What he was doing in Miami was questionable since he had last been seen at the Xavier mansion. The photographs were from one of the many spy satellites that had been commandeered by the FOH.
Kurt turned around and leaned against the wall, not permitting him to see the attack. The sounds of metal ripping through flesh and bone with startling speed resounded through Kurt's mind. He no longer had any threat, with the possible exception of one of the most feared mutants on the planet, who some people refused to believe existed. As soon as the man's friends saw his corpse, or whatever was left, they would be aware that their primary enemy was in the vicinity.
The world disappeared and reappeared in a flash, he was back at home. No matter how many times he'd done it, it was always a relief to come back home alive. Staggering over to his recliner, he grabbed his phone and propped his feet up. He pushed the numbers that he'd been told, struggling to remember the correct combination. He was greeted as expected.
"Was the mission a success," a voice said with intensity. Kurt winced and turned down the volume on his phone.
"Yeah, I got your information, but it was harder to get than I expected."
"The payment stands. No more, no less." The man on the other end had correctly guessed the conversation to follow.
"Citing that you don't have the disk, and I do, I would say that you don't have any leverage," a smile crawled across Kurt's fuzzy lips.
"I didn't know where the information was being kept, but I do know where you live, and I do know every place that you teleport to in an emergency." The smile fell, but Kurt wasn't fearful.
"It must be nice being completely oblivious to the unexpected." He lazily, as though it was spiteful to do it so, hung up the phone. That last sentence nearly blew his thin cover. It was difficult to speak complex words without slipping back to his German accent. It was habit that he spoke to his clients in an American accent, a habit that had become pointless once his career reached a certain level. He was now being hired by people powerful enough to drag out his background no matter how deep he tried to bury it. This always kept him within the grasps of the F.O.H. due to their deep reaches into the government, but most of his jobs helped mutant "terrorists" wage their own little war against the government.
He kept his name away from the big wars against the government. He'd made the mistake of disabling a large base to aide Sinister in his crusade, and almost ended up dead alongside most of Sinister's army. It was this experience that caused his to create rules for himself. Breaking of those rules wasn't a common thing, which was the reason that his business had started to fail; which, in turn, was the reason he'd taken what he thought had been a small risk by working for someone who refused to identify himself. It had turned into a great risk. Not only would this mystery-man not identify himself, he wouldn't leave Kurt alone. He'd call within the next few hours proposing a new job, probably part of an ultimatum now that Kurt had started to show resistance.
It wasn't worth thinking about. Many people had tried to kill Kurt, and none had succeeded. While it was true that Kurt had about six places that he typically went to when times got tough, he could also just pick any street anywhere in any city that he'd ever been to and teleport there.
After a shower, which took upwards of an hour, considering his fur, he decided to just wait for the phone call from a very adamant client. Although he managed to stay awake for the next couple of hours, he had spent most of the day being chased by a couple hundred outraged bigots, and was very tired. Kurt blinked, or so he thought. In the split second that his eyes were closed, eight hours had managed to pass.
"I hate that," he said to himself in German. Groggily, he looked up at the large clock that hung over his television. Before his eyes were able to adjust and get a halfway decent view of the hands, the phone rang, startling him enough to make him teleport to the kitchen. Feeling like an idiot, he reached around to grab the cordless phone that sat on the counter. "Hallo," he nearly choked himself off, realizing that the call may have been from the mystery client.
"Hello, Kurt." The voice was unfamiliar.
"Who is this," Kurt asked, slipping back into his flat accent.
"There is no need to hide your true self from me, Mr. Darkholme. We will accept you as you are."
"You didn't answer my question."
"We were monitoring your activities last night, and we believe that we have some use for you."
"You sent the other mutant," Kurt questioned.
"The other?"
"Guess not." Magneto realized he'd just made the same mistake that he had with Wolverine. "You must not have been monitoring very closely if you did not notice him."
"The other mutant is not important now. All that is important is the survival…" Kurt wasn't paying attention. He saw the red glare coming from his security monitor. He appeared in front of the eight monitors that made up his security system. Three of the cameras had been taken out, and the fourth caught the image of a metal claw ripping it down.
"Ve'll talk later," Kurt cut off Magneto and hung up the phone. Kurt could have sworn he heard the door squeak, but he wasn't sure if it had just been a beep from the phone. It wasn't the time to doubt any suspicious noises. He reached behind the monitors and pulled out the sword he'd taken from an F.O.H. member that had managed to hit him with it.
Kurt got ready to teleport into his living room, but held back when he heard his fridge open. He could've sworn he heard the invader mutter, "Damn light beer…"
He'd had enough of this. Keeping at a safe distance, he teleported to the entrance of his kitchen, just in time to see a stout, hairy man finishing off a bottle of whisky that had been mostly full the last time Kurt saw it.
"What are you doing here," Kurt yelled, holding the sword out in front of him. He spun it around in his hand, pretending he knew how to use it, knowing that it was futile against a man who had two sword-length claws that could launch out of his arms. The truth was that he was scared. Most of the underworld thought that Wolverine was just a rumor. Nobody liked to accept that anyone with his supposed powers could kill someone like Apocalypse. It wasn't as though Apocalypse hadn't been "killed" before, but the people that had managed to do it had tremendous power. Magneto and Xavier had to team up to bring him down. The F.O.H. lost a majority of their military in a failed attempt. Sinister died in an attempt that succeeded, although he'd been declared dead before as well. Wolverine just had claws, and managed to bring down a five-thousand year old false deity. Kurt didn't like his odds in combat, but there's no way this guy could catch him if Kurt opted to flee the situation
"I was told to come here since you left the party early last night." Logan slammed the bottle down as all of the whisky hit him at once. Kurt shielded his eyes from the tiny shards sent across the kitchen. "Good stuff."
"What do you want with me?"
"I don't want a damn thing to do with you. I was sent here under duress." Logan had picked up a few phrases from Emma in the time he'd been at the mansion. "I'm part of a team. The guy who runs it wants you on it."
"I've already been contacted by someone."
"It wasn't us, bub, and if it's not us, it's Xavier, and he doesn't take rejection very well, believe me."
"Vhat if I accept his offer," Kurt took a couple of steps closer to Logan, who did move; he just smiled.
"Then we'll probably meet again, only I won't be in as good of a mood." Wolverine tilted his head. "There's something familiar about yer face, bub, and your smell, too, now that I think about it." Just as Kurt opened his mouth, the phone rang: this was Kurt's opportunity. As Logan looked at the ringing receiver, Kurt leapt and swung the sword. Logan got his right claw out and cut the blade in half. While he was dodging the disconnected half of the blade, Kurt spun around and jabbed what was left of the sword into the intruders left kidney. Just as an infuriated Wolverine swung at him, Kurt teleported behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and they both disappeared.
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"And what if our hairy mercenary fails to bring back the furry assassin," Emma looked up from her book at Trent, who had just been staring into space.
"If Logan doesn't bring him back, I'll send you out to get him," he answered after a short pause.
"Won't I be busy for the next few days?" Emma looked insistently at Trent.
"If Logan fails, and you have to go get Kurt, I'll take care of the breakout."
"No, Trent! You've taken too many big assignments away from me! Do you not trust me enough to get into a tough situation?"
Trent looked at her with his usual emotionless face. "If you have to go get Kurt, I'll also let you go get Luke."
"Oh, come on, I want to have my life in danger, not my marriage vows."
"How about the Maximoffs?"
"Wouldn't they want to see you personally?"
"They'll understand. Do you want to do it, or not?"
"I'll take it." She pointed to the phone, "That's Logan." Seconds later, it rang.
"What is it," Trent asked impatiently.
The scrambled voice came through the speaker. His communicator was having a hard time getting a signal, especially since it had to transmit through phone lines. "The little fucker teleported me to the south pole… or maybe the north, and then he disappeared," Logan blurted over the speaker; Emma giggled.
"I'll be there in a minute, and don't worry about tracking the guy anymore; Emma's going to take care of it."
"I don't think she has too. In fact, we can get two birds with one stone."
"Explain," Trent actually showed some intrigue.
"It took me a while to realize, but I smelled him before, when he was a little kid: Mystique's little kid. If we tell him that Xavier's holding her, he'll bust her out, and he doesn't many options after that."
"Good thinking, but you're not going to be the one to tell him, he doesn't seem to like you," Trent was getting out of his seat.
"Just come get me! I don't care anymore."
Emma walked up to the phone, "He's already gone." She dejectedly pushed the button, hanging up the phone. Trent knew everything about his recruits. He knew Kurt was Mystique's son; that was the reason he sent Wolverine: so he'd recognize the scent, and then he'd have found a real reason to cut her out of the rescue. "Conniving bastard," she muttered under her breath.
"You don't have Mystique anymore, huh?" The voice came from right behind her. The voice was followed by a pair of hands on her shoulders. It was Bobby.
"No, I don't. He managed to make my life even more boring."
"Didn't he give you another task in return?"
"Yes, I have to go get Magneto's pathetic children."
"What makes you think that will be boring?"
Emma turned her head up to her husband, "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Haven't you been reading the reports?"
"I choose not to read about how hopeless our fight is."
"Well, the Maximoffs were last seen being held prisoner by their own father. You're going to have to break into Magneto's personal stronghold to get to them."
Emma returned her head to its poised position. "Like I said; no excitement."
"Then I guess I shouldn't wish you luck?"
"You say that as if you're leaving sometime soon." Drake didn't respond except with lowering of his head. "No: not after what you've been through, Robert."
"It's going to be a simple assignment… search and retrieve: a teenager. She hasn't even been spotted by Xavier yet."
"I still don't think you should be outside of the mansion, not until Hank's results come in."
"Honey, Hank's lab is about a month away from being done, much less giving any results."
"So," she with a grin on her face.
He crouched down at her knees. "However much you'd like me to remain intact, so you can use me at your convenience, I feel worthless just wandering around the mansion."
"Then just go lie down in bed."
"I can't just sleep for a month."
"Who said anything about sleep?"
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Logan had been waiting three minutes in the frozen section of Hell in just a flannel shirt and jeans. Anybody else would have been dead or a comatose ice-cube at that point, but Logan's body wouldn't let frostbite take hold. This by no means meant that Logan wasn't cold: he was pacing just to keep his external temperate at freezing point. At the fiftieth interval, he finally saw a human figure in the distance. Logan risked his eyes freezing to get a better look. The figure wasn't affected by the cold, wasn't in any hurry, and he definitely wasn't Trent.
"Who are you," Logan shouted against the wind.
"Leave," hissed the voice. The voice reverberated on itself, making sound demonic.
"Just waiting for my ride," Logan shot back. He straightened his arms out, preparing to release his claws.
"Pity." Logan's preparation was necessary, but insufficient. The man's eyes glowed red, reflecting off the pristine snow for several meters. Then, he charged: much quicker than humanly possible. His skin morphed to create a large blade sticking out the side of his arm, although it retained its original texture. The charge would have cut Logan in half, an attack he could survive although it would leave him without legs, but the runt managed to dodge most of the attack. Logan gave the stranger a taste if real claws, causing the man to stumble.
The man turned and a beam raced from its origin: the man's hand, to the middle of Logan's forearm, completely vaporizing all flesh in it's path, leaving just a metal skeleton and retracted claw with no muscles to push it outward. The stranger's hand glowed yellow once again, but never completed its task, citing that it has been separated from the rest of the body. The hand wasn't alone, the dark man was ripped apart.
Logan now spotted his "ride" twenty feet away: hand outstretched. Trent floated in Logan's direction, toes dragging along the snow. "Who the hell was that?"
"Don't worry, you'll meet him again."
"After that," Logan motioned in the direction of the pieces. After actually looking, found that the pieces were drawing closer to each other.
"Let's go," Trent, for the first time in front of Logan, actually sounded worried.
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"Who the hell was that," Logan snorted. His arm had to unfreeze, then heal; so the re-growth was taking a considerable amount of time.
"His name is Gabriel. He's one of Xavier's sons." Charles Xavier had started a massive program to create a successor. He'd since had over twenty children. What he was searching for was a powerful telepath to take his place. Using genetic pairing techniques given to him by Sinister, he tried to create this protégé. Sinister had conned Xavier, though. The pairings were faulty, giving powerful offspring, but none of the type Xavier wanted. Once Charles discovered this, he had Sinister killed, which was a moot action, and came up with his own pairing system. He now had four powerful psionic children.
Sinister's faulty pairings were not always as faulty as originally intentioned. Melissa, Xavier's first daughter, had moderate telepathic ability, but unbelievable telekinesis, rivaling the Phoenix Force in strength, and completely outclassing it in flexibility. The other exception to Sinister's nearly perfect plan was Gabriel.
The second half of Essex's plan was to collect upon Xavier's "failed" children. As suspected, Charles would forget about the failures, leaving them to their own design's in the Xavier Alliance Military. Sinister would then manipulate them into fighting in his own twisted resistance.
"What the hell is he doing in Antarctica?" Logan discerned he was south of the equator when they made a stop in Brazil to let Logan's arm heal. The area around them was a thick forest, leaving the two walking down a narrow path.
"Like most of Charles' children, Gabriel defected to Sinister's army. He wasn't too happy there either. Apocalypse picked him up as leverage against both Xavier and Sinister. Not only did he enhance Gabriel's natural powers, he put Gabriel through the same procedure that made Sinister what he is today. That gave him powers similar to Sinster, and all of the same psychological disorders. The only problem is that Gabriel was never that smart, leaving him what you saw back there. He single-handedly destroyed his father's Antarctic division. If you were just three miles south of where you were, you'd have been in the Savage Land…"
"Yeah, I know about the Savage Land." Logan found it hard to make the decision to interrupt Trent, this was the most he'd spoken since Logan had arrived.
"You don't know what's going on there right now. I assure you that Gabriel was honestly considering adding you to his forces."
"How many mutant armies are there in this world?"
"Six."
Logan hadn't been expecting an answer. "Fine then; I'll bite. Elaborate for me."
"Our army, Gabriel's, Sinister's, Xavier's, Apocalypse's, and Ororo's."
"You're counting us?"
"We technically qualify, despite our numbers."
"How do we stack up…" Logan stopped. The little blue bastard was watching them; Logan searched frantically for Kurt. "He's-"
"I know," Trent interjected. "Why do you think we stopped to let you heal here?"
"I'll go get him," Logan paced to an arbitrary spot to begin his search.
"You're going back to the mansion," Trent firmly stated. With a wave of Trent's hand, Logan was heading north, through the air, at high speed. "You're going to talk to me if you want your mother to live."
As expected, this stirred Kurt, causing a small branch to snap. Trent snapped his head in that direction. The trunks of the mighty trees snapped, and what remained of the trees fell over with unnatural speed. Trent had to move quickly. The sound made by his actions would attract considerable attention.
The only evidence of Kurt's presence blew away and dissipated in the wind. He hadn't gone far, though. Trent couldn't draw an exact bead on Darkholme's location, but proximity was enough. He had teleported to a nearby city, where everyone was looking to the forest for the origin of the shatter they'd heard.
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Kurt was tired. He'd pushed himself too hard teleporting from his home to Antarctica (extra strain added from carrying another person and the cold), then to Brazil. Kurt remained confused due to the fact that he'd traveled farther distances with ease, but something about the man he took with him made it difficult to carry him. Now he was doing his best to hide from a man who could obviously travel the same distance with minimal strain. The man seemed civil enough when speaking to his short friend, but Kurt wasn't as hard as a tree, and the man certainly didn't seem civil to the trees.
He had to find a way to rest long enough to get his energy back. Upon spotting his hunter walking the streets, obviously searching for someone, Kurt realized he wouldn't get to have that luxury. He knew he had to get away from his stalker to think.
Every turn, however, gave him another sight of the man he was trying to evade. He couldn't think of any way out of this situation. In fact, he didn't have any idea where he was going, or how he was choosing his path of retreat. It felt as though he was barely controlling his own body. And in Kurt's experience, if it felt like he didn't have control of his body, he didn't. This hypothesis was proven when he tried to turn around and go back, and his body adamantly chose not to. He tried to fight whoever had a hold on him, but he could feel nobody inside of his head. His unwilling path lead him to a clearing at the bottom of hill, where the hold on his body was released. The energy had been sucked out of his body, and Kurt found it an impossible task to stand. The draining of his energy continued until he eventually passed out.
"It worked," Melissa spoke into the phone. "He's unconscious."
"Of course he is," her father barked, then hung up.
"I don't know why he wants you," Melissa spoke to the body, "we already have three teleporting mutants." It didn't matter though, what Xavier wanted, Xavier got. She lifted him off the ground to take to the nearby helicopter. Although he managed to move up according to her command, he wouldn't follow her when her telekinesis beckoned. Melissa mentally pulled on an un-breaking harness, keeping the blue man held in place. Citing that she wasn't technically pulling Kurt, but rather a field around him, he was free from the tensions of her struggle. Knowing this, she used all of her mental strength to pull her target to her. Four-thousand tons of force, and the opposing strength didn't even strain.
It had been almost obvious to her from the beginning that one of Trent's lackeys had been opposing her. Almost; it was incredibly obvious now that the second mutant on the sensor which had been chasing her target had actually been the leader of the opposition himself.
"Where are you, Trent?"
"Leave him," he sounded as though he was in front of her, but it was just a trick. He used his powers to accelerate his voice to a position a few feet in front of her.
"Why are you so interested in him," She asked, knowing full well that he could hear her.
There was a long pause from the other end of the proverbial cup-and-string conversation they were having, after which, he reinitiated the conversation with: "Your father's here." She could now feel his presence as he departed. She never understood why Trent ran from her father, as he was more than able to stand toe-to-toe with Xavier.
"What is taking so long," Charles yelled once he arrived.
"Just talking." She grinned as she once again picked Kurt up off the ground.
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"Have we lost him," Piotr asked once Trent landed in the back lawn.
"He'll be here before midnight," His leader stated in all seriousness, despite the fact that little more than an hour remained before midnight. Piotr smiled knowing full-well what made Trent so assured of the speed he wanted
"Speaking of midnight," Piotr turned to his son, who had begged him to stay up late, "It's almost time for bed."
"I wanna stay up all night," his son pushed through a heavy yawn.
"I'll let you try as long as you're in your bed."
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Kurt shot up out of his unfamiliarly soft surface. He quickly looked around, ready to teleport out at the slightest sign of danger. He'd only been captured once before, and it had been an experience he vowed never to let happen again. The only sign of anything remotely dangerous in the room was a petite brunette sorting through a pile of clothes and other commodities Kurt recognized as his own.
"Don't try to teleport yourself out of here," the woman warned. "The mutation blocker has always had a problem with teleporters. They tend to die when they attempt to exit the premises."
"Vhere am I?"
"Xavier's back-up base, which has quickly become his primary base."
"Vhy?"
"He probably wants to recruit you. Have you been contacted by Mr. Lensherr yet?"
Kurt assumed that the man who called his before the guy with the claws showed up. "Yeah, I have. I hung up on him."
"So you're the one. Don't expect to be welcomed very warmly by him, then."
"I don't expect to be around long enough to let him."
"Oh, really," the brunette quipped. "And why wouldn't you want to be in Xavier's service?"
"Because I saw one of the men who is against Xavier, and trust me, I'm better off on my own."
"Who did you see," she asked. Her tone seemed desperate for this information.
"A very tall vith… brown eyes and long hair."
"How long?"
"I don't know," Kurt said suspiciously, "It was tucked behind his overcoat. Longer than his shoulders. Vhy?"
"Not many people have seen him. We're ordered to study him around here, but nobody's ever even seen a picture, unless they've seen him in person. Ooh, were any of his brothers there?"
"Just one other man, short and hairy."
"Damn, that doesn't sound like any of them."
"That's enough," another voice said. Xavier, or so Kurt assumed, was standing in the doorway. "I believe his room is in decent order."
"Yes, sir," she said before scurrying out of the room.
"Miss Pryde was one of our top students. It was her… unhealthy obsession with Mr. Reign that lead to her expulsion from my school."
"Mr. Reign?"
"The man who was chasing you. The other, stout man was an agent of his. We monitored your attempted disposal of him."
"So you vere monitoring me before the phone-call? Since I disposed of him just a minute after your… Magneto, called."
"Very astute," Xavier sported a disappointed look, but soon wiped it from his face. He began to walk away and motioned for Kurt to follow him. "We are very impressed by the distance you can travel considering your method of teleportation: dimension shifting"
"Who's "we" and vhy are you interested?"
"Well, Mr, Reign also has a method of transportation; dealing the creation of miniature wormholes. We have several others of your abilities, but they work along the… wormhole lines. Although they tend to be able to travel greater distances, once they teleport away from Mr. Reign, he can simply keep the portal open and follow them. But my scientists and I believe that your specific trans-dimensional method of teleportation is impossible to copy with Reign's abilities."
"How long have you been vatching me?"
"Since you started accepting jobs against the Friends of Humanity. Have you any idea whom you were accepting jobs from?" Xavier didn't ask the question for Kurt to answer; he knew.
"He never said who he vas."
"His name is Dominic Reign. He has caused us as much trouble as his brother, but he recently began to focus most of his attention on the Friends of Humanity. The thing is that he is always directly involved in all of his missions. Never in his past has he hired a mercenary, except in your case, and we wanted to know why."
"I vould like to know myself."
"Well, I believe that since he's never done this before, you're unusually important. We wish to test that theory. If Dominic or Trent comes to claim you, then we'll be assured."
"Vhat vould this assurance mean to you?"
"Aside form having one of my two greatest threats right under in front of me, we would get to know their patterns a little better. Every step towards understanding an enemy is an important one."
"I don't like the idea of being used as bait."
"You're being used as a soldier. I am offering you nothing but what you gave yourself in your own life. I want to give you assignments where you work on your own. The only difference is that every extravagant thing you could possibly want would be at your fingertips, without being limited by your income, or having an employer refuse to pay. All I'm offering you, is the life of a King."
"A King subservient to an Emperor. Vhat good will it be if I am never at vhatever lavish home you vant to provide me vith? I have seen vhat happens to mercenaries that become soldiers."
"Ask any other soldier here. From Magneto to Scot Summers to the lowliest security officer: you will get the same answer. No one here is run ragged with work, I do not hold slaves. You will not work any more than you have before today. And believe me, the lavish home that I have picked out for you will be worth every second you spend in it."
"Earlier you vere saying 'were,' and now you are saying 'will.' Vhat makes you think that I'm going to join you."
"What are your other options? Believe me. A life with the Reign family is nothing but turmoil and endless missions."
"So that puts you at the top? Believe me, you are no closer to recruiting me now than you vere before Magneto called." Kurt turned away from Xavier's wry smile and headed back to the room that Xavier took him away from.
"Watch your back in your room. Mr. Reign might be in there while you sleep, in one way or another." Kurt didn't give a response; he just wondered how someone could get in, especially if Xavier expected it.
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Kurt did manage to go to sleep in the room Xavier provided for him, despite the fact that he felt he was being watched. Not just by cameras, but he had a suspicion that the brunette was watching him again, though there was no way to get into his room except the door, which hadn't been opened. But the feeling kept knowing away at him, despite the fact that not a noise had been made.
He jarred himself out of the half-sleep he'd been in and looked around the room. It was so obvious that he seemed to ignore it out of disbelief, but in the middle of the room was the ghostly figure of Trent Reign, the man Kurt last saw laying waste to an acre of sycamores. He was just standing there, catatonic, staring at Kurt with glowing white eyes. Once Kurt had been staring at him for a few moments, Trent began to walk toward the door, leaving a fading trail that mocked his figure behind him. Solid objects were no object as the figure walked straight through the door.
Kurt didn't sit stunned for very long, and quickly followed him into the hallway. Kurt looked left just in time to see his residual energy float down into the third hallway down.
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"Wait, the cameras just went out."
"What," Xavier barked from his prone position in the back of the room. "Which ones and why?"
"The one in that new guy's room and a few surrounding hallways. We just lost the line to the camera for no reason."
"You mean it was severed?"
"No," the security guard said, "the modules to those cameras were destroyed."
"Find out where the path lead and get everyone you can there."
"Path?"
"The camera failures will undoubtedly clear a path for Mr. Darkholme to go somewhere we don't want him to go. Find out where that is."
"No offense, sir, but it's fairly obvious he would be lead to Mrs. Darkhome's cell, since his name is Darkholme as well."
"She's here," Charles violently questioned. "I ordered her sent to Houston."
"She was transferred here last week by Mrs. Grey when she nearly escaped-"
"Just get whoever can near her cell!"
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Kurt followed the apparition rather closely now, little more than a foot behind him, finding that he was sleeping rather closely to some holding cells. The sign above the door said it was for the mentally ill. Several desperate-looking people ran up to the front of the cell, begging him to let them out, then there were those who backed to the farthest corner of their cell at the sight of the man Kurt was following.
Once the simple cells had run out, they stepped into a hall of maximum-security section. Trent faded away once they reached the very end of the hall, a dead-end.
"Vhat am I supposed to do now," Kurt called out.
On each door was a standard numeric pad. The pads were clear plastic, with a backlight to illuminate the numbers. As soon as Reign disappeared, the three began to glow much brighter than the others, almost blindingly. Kurt pressed the digit, dimming the three, and shifting the glow to the eight.
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The lights flickered above Xavier. "What is that?"
"The Negation Field… it's been deactivated."
"What!"
The security camera swiveled just in time to see a leg and a wisp of brown hair retreating through a wall.
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Kurt opened the door just as the lights flickered above him. He ignored the disturbance when he saw the beleaguered form, restrained, laying on the floor. It was his mother. She managed to tilt her head enough to see him.
"Kurt," she strained to say, "get out of here." Her words were slurred, as if her tongue had fallen limp. Instinct took over in Kurt, and he had taken his mother in his arms. He quickly stepped out into the hall, to be met by two of the people that had been in the news the most in the past months: Scott Summers and Jean Grey.
"It seems I made a mistake in transferring Ms. Darkholme here," Jean said, an outline of fire encompassed her slim frame.
"I believe the fault lies with our security system." In step with Jean, his eyes began to glow red.
"What are you waiting for," Magneto hovered around the corner. "Charles ordered them destroyed."
Before Kurt tried to teleport back to his home, he was grabbed by a thin hand and pulled through a wall. It was the brunette that had been cleaning his room. "Teleport us to Times Square."
"Vhat?"
"All of us! Hurry, before they turn the Negation Field back on!" Kurt decided it was as safe of a place as any, and teleported to the very familiar intersection in New York City. The last thing he saw was the three people in the hall plus Xavier crashing through the wall.
Xavier quickly traced their mental patterns and ordered Jean to take them to Times Square.
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A bright flash of fire was immediately replaced by mass of blue. Kurt didn't see anybody in the usually bustling intersection.
"We shouldn't have come here," Mystique slurred out, sloppily pushing herself to stand on her own.
"Now, now, Ms. Darkhome," the brunette said while looking around, "you don't have many options."
"I'd rather be dead than following Trent."
Kurt didn't get to question how his mother was affiliated with the man that had been after him for the past four hours. The people who had been chasing him just jumped out of a giant fire-bird. "Vhy did ve come here if there is no protection," Kurt shouted at the brunette.
"Remember when I asked you if you've met one of Trent's brothers?"
"Yes."
"Well, you're about to."
"I can't say I understand why you came here," Xavier shouted. "Trent is currently in Moscow, and he's not quick enough to save you now." A small ball of energy formed in front of Xavier, and Scott's eyes began to glow red.
"Hey," called a man that had been in Moscow with Trent just a second beforehand. Kurt recognized the voice as his most recent client. Before the five attackers managed to turn their heads completely, the man that had yelled instantly appeared where Xavier and his ilk had been standing. The ilk, however, were all flying in different directions, blood trailing their bodies.
He appeared just feet from them with the same speed that he'd attacked Xavier. Mystique managed to predict where he was going to appear and spit in that direction. The young man, no older than twenty, saw it coming and shifted a few feet to the right. "Nice to see you, too, Raven."
"I'll kill myself before I let you two destroy us all!"
"Now, Raven, we both know you're too selfish to do something like that." Kurt just watched his mother seethe at the young man, and the boy smile back.
The brunette broke the stare-down by jumping on the young man and kissing him. "God, I hated being a spy in that bastard's second-rate base!" She wrapped he legs around him and began force the boy into kissing her.
"You're kind of breaking my tough guy image, hon."
"I really care," she said sardonically. A blinding light sparked to on the near sidewalk, and out stepped Trent. Giving his mother's obvious feelings about these men, Kurt took a step back from the new arrival.
"Go home," he said to the love-birds, and they disappeared, leaving Kurt and his mother alone with Trent, and the bodies of Xavier and friends, who were beginning to rouse.
"Kurt," Mystique's linguistics were coming back to her, "you have to trust me. We'll be safer on our own. Don't listen to anything he says. All he wants to do is kill you."
"As opposed to what," Trent said. Kurt noticed that the man didn't deny it. "You two can come with me, and help me bring about the world that should be. Or you go to your house, where Lorna Dane, Sean Cassidy, and a few Guthries are waiting for you." Kurt eyed the man and then his mother suspiciously. "If nothing else, stay until Xavier finds a new target. I guarantee that it will be less than five days."
Kurt looked down at his mother, who dropped her head as if she had been defeated. "Fine, let's go." A portal similar to the one that Trent cam out of appeared around them, and Kurt found himself in the Lobby of a huge mansion. A trail of clothes lead up the stairs.
"Are you the one that said they could stay here?" A woman with white hair came out of a den. "You know every time they stay here, they keep Bobby and I awake all night with that damn headboard." She seemed completely oblivious to Kurt and his mother. "What the hell are Bobby and I supposed to do?"
"Move your own headboard; start a competition," Trent suggested half-heartedly. Emma just sighed, and looked up the stairs to room that the noise-makers were in, and ascended the stairs, transforming into some crystalline form.
Trent ignored her, looking down at Mystique, who had distanced herself from the world. "She should be down in the infirmary, until the drugs wear off." Emma reached the top of the stairs and barged into the room at the top. Moaning could be briefly heard, followed by a scream, then the familiar sound of wood being broken. Seconds later, Emma emerged from the room with a headboard under her arm, which she threw down the stairs. "I'll show you where it is," Trent said once the headboard came to rest at his feet.
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Once Mystique had been kept in the care of another blue mutant, they found their way to his office, which had thousands of books on the wall, many of them had to do with warfare, and more to do with quantum theory.
"Bobby will show you to your room, and your mother's, so you can show her tomorrow."
"Vhy did you bring me in here? I want to speak with my mother."
"When you're in a situation you've never been in, with people you've never met, don't hesitate to follow through on a decision."
"You vanted me to go to my house, where those people vere vaiting."
"That wasn't what you wanted to do," he scolded. "You wanted to accept my protection, but you waiting for your mother's approval. Your mother has been jaded to many people and ideas. If you're waiting for her approval on who to trust, you'll find yourself in a thin group of people with no ambition."
"My mother has survived this vorld through her intelligence. I trust her."
"She survived in that prison because Xavier was planning on using her as leverage if you dissented. She'd have been dead more than a year ago, if you hadn't been spotted and identified as her son."
"And vhat are you using her for? You knew vhere she's been in the last year, and you did nothing."
"She would have come out of that prison today with or without you. Xavier doesn't give up prisoners easily."
"Vhy did you break her out, then, if not as an incentive to me?"
"My reasons for recruiting you have nothing to do with her, or vice versa. You were to be recruited, regardless of your mother's status. The timing happened to be convenient." Kurt was about to ask another question, but was interrupted, "Please don't keep Bobby waiting any longer," Trent motioned to the door of his office. Kurt had learned to identify when he was talking to a wall.
Upon entering the hall, he met the man he assumed was Bobby. "I'm beginning to see a pattern in Trent's recruitment," he said regarding the blueness of the last three people brought to the mansion. Kurt didn't respond. "I know Trent can be annoying at times… at most times. But believe me, even though he came up with the ideal, he's not the best one to get it across. He thinks too much about strategy now to give a damn about people feelings. If you want someone to talk to about why we're fighting, go talk to Piotr." Bobby's tone changed through that last sentence as he tried to imagine why he had to step over a broken headboard to get to the stairs. "He'll probably be out back playing with his kid."
The rest of the trek was silent until they reached a room several doors away from the room where the previous commotion had taken place, much to Kurt's pleasure. He didn't want to be near two fighting couples. "Vhere is my mother's?"
"The room across the hall."
"Thanks," Kurt responded, send Bobby on his way.
"Emma," he called, "what did you do to Dominic and Kitty's bed?" Kurt could only hear a mumble from downstairs. "Good idea," Bobby yelled in response, just before Kurt closed his door.
Any remaining property of Kurt's that Xavier didn't take had been moved to this room. It was obvious that Reign got to his house first, since most of his valuable property was in the room. Finding himself with a lack of options, he sorted his clothes and valuables, including the sliced sword, then killed some time taking a shower.
Kurt was unable to predict what life at this house would be like. He was in a position he had never been in before, with people he had never met. The next day, he was going to take Trent's advice and follow through with whatever decision he made.
***
I took a considerable break from writing fanfiction, about ten moths, and got back to work on this story. Before finishing this chapter, I started an X-Men: Evolution story: Voices' Warnings. I like to keep my mind on one story at a time. Please cast your vote as to which story you'd like me to work on first. Please read both before casting your vote.