Wow, I am *really* happy with all the great reviews I have been getting.
Miracle Chick, this is the longest review I have ever gotten. Kudos! I'm glad you get such an emotional response from my story, but try not to get *too* upset, Ok? And to answer your question, no one missed the Brotherhood at school because school was already out. Lance missed his graduation, though.
Sailor X, don't worry, you're not a sicko.
Incrediblecuznz (do you know how hard it is to type your name?) If ff.net doesn't work today, I'll take your apostrophe advice. Also, yes we have more angst on the way. Mostly Lance angst.
Rex, you scare me. Don't kill me, and I'll give you gold--- well, I'll at least keep updating.
Ok, let's get started!
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"I don't like this place. Too cold."
Lance opened his eyes and found himself strapped to a gurney in what looked like the hospital from hell.
The walls were dirty and dark, and the only light in the room came from a bare light bulb swinging back and forth above his head like the deadly pendulum from Poe. Beside him was a metal table with metal surgical tools. Both the table and the tools were a reddish-brown color, eaten by rust. Along the edge of the wall to his left, a rat scurried about its business. Cockroaches scattered about the ceiling. Lance shuddered. He hated cockroaches.
For a while, his mouth filled vaguely with the sour taste of vomit, and he could hear a frightened voice crying down a long hallway, "Son of a bitch! Someone hold his head! He's choking on that shit!" but all of that had faded away a while ago, leaving him in silence once again. Until now.
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
Lance tried to turn his head around to see who it was that so hated this place, but a restraint held his head in place. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he could just barely make out two people- a young teenage boy with brown hair sitting in a crouch, and an eight hundred pound mutant crushing-machine.
"Fred? Todd?" Lance frantically tried to twist his head around. "Help me! Cut me loose!"
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
"Why do you keep *saying* that?" Lance cried, his voice high and cracking with panic. With a forceful jerk, he managed to turn his head to the left. What he saw made him yelp with terror.
Both Todd and Fred's eyes had been sewed shut with a heavy black thread, the jagged stitches running like a line of confused ants. Fred's mouth had been sewed shut as well, but Todd's remained untouched, enabling him to spew the same two sentences over and over again.
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
Tears began to spill down Lance's cheeks. "I'm sorry, Todd. I'm really sorry---"
The two ex-members of the Brotherhood turned their backs and began to walk away. "No, wait!" Lance called after them. He couldn't stand the idea of being left alone in this terrible place. "Todd, Fred, come back! I'm sorry! I really tried---"
It did no good. Lance was alone again in his own personal hell for about fifteen seconds before a group of what looked like doctors rushed in. All of them gathered around Lance's table, and he tried to count them, but their numbers kept changing. Sometimes there were only four, and sometimes there were as many as nine. They all spoke in a weird language that Lance could not understand.
"Nepo mih tuc."
And suddenly Lance wanted to scream, because he realized that this was no hospital, this was hell, and these were no doctors, they were demons dressed as guards dressed as doctors. And one of them held the rusty scalpel.
They were going to make him suffer, they were going to slice him open, because he was the leader of the Brotherhood and he had led Fred and Todd into death. His eyes rolled back into his head, his vision fading away into darkness. The last thing he saw was the light bulb, swinging over his head as the demons began their incision.
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"Lance? You awake, kid?"
The world was swimming back into place as Lance opened his eyes and tried to decipher where he was. Was this a new stage in the torture? Was Pietro alive? His head was hurting him, but that wasn't anything new. What was new was that he was lying in a bed.
"Kid? You Ok?"
Startled, Lance looked up to see Logan sitting at his bedside. So he was with the X-Men? He opened his mouth to speak and was actually frightened by the weakness in his voice. "So it's over?" he asked.
Logan's mouth set in a thin line. "Yeah. Yeah, it's over."
"Pietro?"
"He's --- alive."
It was over. He and Pietro had made it out with their lives. Suddenly, the fact that Lance had just woken up did not matter. It felt as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His eyes shut again, and he drifted off into the first peaceful sleep he'd had in weeks.
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"So Nightcrawler tries to teleport Kitty out of the way, but he misses her and only manages to grab her costume!" Scott laughed loudly at his antic dote; apparently unaware that he was the only one.
'It's a little bit scary, being completely at the mercy of your enemies,' Lance thought to himself. 'Even if it seems like they want to help you, do they really? After all of the trouble I've caused them, how easy would it be for them to inject something a little unfriendly into my system?'
"And the other day, Evan accidentally ran his skateboard over Rogue's favorite CD---"
'It's not that I think that they want to hurt me, really. After all, Dr McCoy is down here all the time running tests and stuff, although that might have more to do with his intrigue at what he found in my bloodstream than his concern for my well being. All day long, I have to hear about it. "Fascinating. This chemical compound caused your X gene to become completely dormant. Of course, it also acted as a poison, but if I could alter it, it might mean a chemical that would help mutants like Rogue control their powers." Wow, I really don't care! All I know is, now I have no powers.'
"She screamed at him for almost twenty minutes at *five-thirty in the morning*. Woke up half the --- Hey, Lance? You awake?" Scott leaned over and grabbed hold of Lance's shoulder. Instantly, Lance tensed up his muscles and sucked in a deep breath. Scott drew his hand back so fast it was as if he had rested it on a hot stove. "Sorry, sorry!"
With his back turned to Summers, Lance smiled softly to himself. He may not be able to get Scott to leave, but he sure as hell could freak him out by pretending to be a spaz. Lance personally hated it when Scott came in to visit with him, especially since he only did it to score brownie points with that bald professor of his. Scott, however, was oblivious to this, and continued his running monologue.
"Anyway, the whole bunch of us went up to the lake last weekend to celebrate graduation, and --- err, uh sorry you missed it. We were all wondering where you were. Uh, I'm sure they'll send your diploma in the mail. So anyway, we were up at the lake and Jean---"
Figuring that Scott wasn't one to get subtlety, Lance grabbed his pillow and shoved it on top of his head.
Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Hey, I'm gonna go, Ok? See ya, Lance." Scott was out the door in about two seconds, leaving Lance alone again with some peace and quiet.
There was only one guy who's visits Lance didn't mind, and that was Logan's. It always went the same way. Logan would walk in and say "Hey kid, how you feeling?" He'd wait a beat for a response that never came, then would add, "Yeah, me too." If Pietro happened to be awake, he'd address him as well. He then proceeded to sit down and read a book for an hour. Lance thought that it was kind of nice, not having to listen to inane, one-way conversation.
A soft cry broke Lance's rambling train of thought. In the bed next to his, Pietro tossed and turned in his sleep. He couldn't move too much because of the big clunky cast on his left leg, signed by each member of the X-Men. Another cry escaped his lips and he began to shudder.
Lance wondered what kind of demons chased Pietro behind his eyelids, although he had a pretty good idea it had a lot to do with Todd. Honestly, it really worried him, especially since Pietro never said a word to anyone. Of course, neither did Lance, but that was because he had nothing to say. No one was sure if Pietro could even comprehend what he was hearing.
Pietro continued to thrash around, and Lance wanted to go comfort him, but he couldn't even get out of his bed without some help. All he could do was lie there and watch as Pietro dreamed of Todd getting beaten to death over and over.
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Lather, rinse, review. Always review. By the way, I beat my previous review record. I'm glad, because I like this story way more than my Lord of the Rings one.
Miracle Chick, this is the longest review I have ever gotten. Kudos! I'm glad you get such an emotional response from my story, but try not to get *too* upset, Ok? And to answer your question, no one missed the Brotherhood at school because school was already out. Lance missed his graduation, though.
Sailor X, don't worry, you're not a sicko.
Incrediblecuznz (do you know how hard it is to type your name?) If ff.net doesn't work today, I'll take your apostrophe advice. Also, yes we have more angst on the way. Mostly Lance angst.
Rex, you scare me. Don't kill me, and I'll give you gold--- well, I'll at least keep updating.
Ok, let's get started!
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
Lance opened his eyes and found himself strapped to a gurney in what looked like the hospital from hell.
The walls were dirty and dark, and the only light in the room came from a bare light bulb swinging back and forth above his head like the deadly pendulum from Poe. Beside him was a metal table with metal surgical tools. Both the table and the tools were a reddish-brown color, eaten by rust. Along the edge of the wall to his left, a rat scurried about its business. Cockroaches scattered about the ceiling. Lance shuddered. He hated cockroaches.
For a while, his mouth filled vaguely with the sour taste of vomit, and he could hear a frightened voice crying down a long hallway, "Son of a bitch! Someone hold his head! He's choking on that shit!" but all of that had faded away a while ago, leaving him in silence once again. Until now.
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
Lance tried to turn his head around to see who it was that so hated this place, but a restraint held his head in place. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he could just barely make out two people- a young teenage boy with brown hair sitting in a crouch, and an eight hundred pound mutant crushing-machine.
"Fred? Todd?" Lance frantically tried to twist his head around. "Help me! Cut me loose!"
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
"Why do you keep *saying* that?" Lance cried, his voice high and cracking with panic. With a forceful jerk, he managed to turn his head to the left. What he saw made him yelp with terror.
Both Todd and Fred's eyes had been sewed shut with a heavy black thread, the jagged stitches running like a line of confused ants. Fred's mouth had been sewed shut as well, but Todd's remained untouched, enabling him to spew the same two sentences over and over again.
"I don't like this place. Too cold."
Tears began to spill down Lance's cheeks. "I'm sorry, Todd. I'm really sorry---"
The two ex-members of the Brotherhood turned their backs and began to walk away. "No, wait!" Lance called after them. He couldn't stand the idea of being left alone in this terrible place. "Todd, Fred, come back! I'm sorry! I really tried---"
It did no good. Lance was alone again in his own personal hell for about fifteen seconds before a group of what looked like doctors rushed in. All of them gathered around Lance's table, and he tried to count them, but their numbers kept changing. Sometimes there were only four, and sometimes there were as many as nine. They all spoke in a weird language that Lance could not understand.
"Nepo mih tuc."
And suddenly Lance wanted to scream, because he realized that this was no hospital, this was hell, and these were no doctors, they were demons dressed as guards dressed as doctors. And one of them held the rusty scalpel.
They were going to make him suffer, they were going to slice him open, because he was the leader of the Brotherhood and he had led Fred and Todd into death. His eyes rolled back into his head, his vision fading away into darkness. The last thing he saw was the light bulb, swinging over his head as the demons began their incision.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Lance? You awake, kid?"
The world was swimming back into place as Lance opened his eyes and tried to decipher where he was. Was this a new stage in the torture? Was Pietro alive? His head was hurting him, but that wasn't anything new. What was new was that he was lying in a bed.
"Kid? You Ok?"
Startled, Lance looked up to see Logan sitting at his bedside. So he was with the X-Men? He opened his mouth to speak and was actually frightened by the weakness in his voice. "So it's over?" he asked.
Logan's mouth set in a thin line. "Yeah. Yeah, it's over."
"Pietro?"
"He's --- alive."
It was over. He and Pietro had made it out with their lives. Suddenly, the fact that Lance had just woken up did not matter. It felt as if he hadn't slept in weeks. His eyes shut again, and he drifted off into the first peaceful sleep he'd had in weeks.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"So Nightcrawler tries to teleport Kitty out of the way, but he misses her and only manages to grab her costume!" Scott laughed loudly at his antic dote; apparently unaware that he was the only one.
'It's a little bit scary, being completely at the mercy of your enemies,' Lance thought to himself. 'Even if it seems like they want to help you, do they really? After all of the trouble I've caused them, how easy would it be for them to inject something a little unfriendly into my system?'
"And the other day, Evan accidentally ran his skateboard over Rogue's favorite CD---"
'It's not that I think that they want to hurt me, really. After all, Dr McCoy is down here all the time running tests and stuff, although that might have more to do with his intrigue at what he found in my bloodstream than his concern for my well being. All day long, I have to hear about it. "Fascinating. This chemical compound caused your X gene to become completely dormant. Of course, it also acted as a poison, but if I could alter it, it might mean a chemical that would help mutants like Rogue control their powers." Wow, I really don't care! All I know is, now I have no powers.'
"She screamed at him for almost twenty minutes at *five-thirty in the morning*. Woke up half the --- Hey, Lance? You awake?" Scott leaned over and grabbed hold of Lance's shoulder. Instantly, Lance tensed up his muscles and sucked in a deep breath. Scott drew his hand back so fast it was as if he had rested it on a hot stove. "Sorry, sorry!"
With his back turned to Summers, Lance smiled softly to himself. He may not be able to get Scott to leave, but he sure as hell could freak him out by pretending to be a spaz. Lance personally hated it when Scott came in to visit with him, especially since he only did it to score brownie points with that bald professor of his. Scott, however, was oblivious to this, and continued his running monologue.
"Anyway, the whole bunch of us went up to the lake last weekend to celebrate graduation, and --- err, uh sorry you missed it. We were all wondering where you were. Uh, I'm sure they'll send your diploma in the mail. So anyway, we were up at the lake and Jean---"
Figuring that Scott wasn't one to get subtlety, Lance grabbed his pillow and shoved it on top of his head.
Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Hey, I'm gonna go, Ok? See ya, Lance." Scott was out the door in about two seconds, leaving Lance alone again with some peace and quiet.
There was only one guy who's visits Lance didn't mind, and that was Logan's. It always went the same way. Logan would walk in and say "Hey kid, how you feeling?" He'd wait a beat for a response that never came, then would add, "Yeah, me too." If Pietro happened to be awake, he'd address him as well. He then proceeded to sit down and read a book for an hour. Lance thought that it was kind of nice, not having to listen to inane, one-way conversation.
A soft cry broke Lance's rambling train of thought. In the bed next to his, Pietro tossed and turned in his sleep. He couldn't move too much because of the big clunky cast on his left leg, signed by each member of the X-Men. Another cry escaped his lips and he began to shudder.
Lance wondered what kind of demons chased Pietro behind his eyelids, although he had a pretty good idea it had a lot to do with Todd. Honestly, it really worried him, especially since Pietro never said a word to anyone. Of course, neither did Lance, but that was because he had nothing to say. No one was sure if Pietro could even comprehend what he was hearing.
Pietro continued to thrash around, and Lance wanted to go comfort him, but he couldn't even get out of his bed without some help. All he could do was lie there and watch as Pietro dreamed of Todd getting beaten to death over and over.
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Lather, rinse, review. Always review. By the way, I beat my previous review record. I'm glad, because I like this story way more than my Lord of the Rings one.
