Chapter 2: Organic Killing Machine
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks, edinarain, for the review! Was anyone else furious that in X-2, Wolverine went back to S.H.I.E.L.D. without Victor (and the rest of the team)? And William Stryker had nothing to do with it! exasperated sigh I need to write Bryan Singer someday.
Cyclops, Storm, Phoenix, Wolverine, Beast, their mentor Charles Xavier, and a time-traveling mutant called Forge stood around a single medical cot, upon which a mammoth of a man lay unconscious. Victor Creed lay upon the examining table, wearing nothing but a large, white towel and twelve EKG sensors. Ororo found it hard not to gawk at his body. Her eyes traveled from his biceps, which could intimidate Hulk Holugan even when they were completely relaxed, and his C-cup-sized pecs, to his eight abdominal muscles, perfectly defined despite his concussion. Her eyes followed a daringly low lucky trail past that annoying towel to a pair of enormous thighs and calves. Seeing his feet, memories sprang to her mind, and she almost giggled. However, remembering the man she was thinking of, she began to feel sick.
Xavier, who could sense the arousal and guilt past her blank face, cleared his throat to wake her from her daydream. "Are you feeling well, Ororo?"
"Fine," she said, though her eyes were seeped in anger. "What is this about?"
The blue-furred Dr. Hank McCoy answered. "Mr. Creed here is in a coma, presumably temporarily, with his healing factor. He and Logan had been fighting, as they often do, at a Sentinel base in Moscow, and there was a nuclear explosion." He turned to a short teammate with coarse, black hair. "How did you get away?"
Logan answered through a set jaw. "He threw me from the rooftop right before a bright flash, and the next thing I knew, I was in a forest."
"Either way," Jean Grey stated, "it's amazing either of you survived at all."
"If it weren't for their metabolic generating abilities, they wouldn't have," McCoy resumed.
Ororo anxiously stepped in. "Is there a viable reason that we're holding an organic killing machine in custody?"
"The fate of the entire mutant race stands on the edge of his life," said Forge. "As you all know, Creed met Logan at the base in an attempt to lure him away from the trail of Senator Robert Kelly, who his associates are holding captive. Now, in four months, the Mutant Registration Act will be passed, largely based upon Kelly's assassination six days from now."
"And how do we enhance our chances of stopping the MRA by keeping a murderer in our headquarters?" Scott Summers questioned.
Jean stepped forward slightly. "The professor and I have been interrogating Victor from the inside of his mind. You see, if we can figure out, through Sabretooth, where Kelly is and how he's being guarded, we might be able to save the Senator, as well as some forty million mutants in the next three decades."
"However," Xavier added, "we haven't had much success. Because Victor has no connection to his consciousness, his brain is operating purely by emotion, which, unfortunately, gives him the advantage over me. No matter how strong a telepath I may be, I can't change a man's subconscious."
"Where does that leave us now?" came Logan's harsh voice.
Forge seemed to be measuring Storm's emotions, as he slowly explained, "We were hoping that someone with an actual connection would be willing to step up to the plate."
Munroe almost imploded when she realized what he was asking. "ME?!?!" Not waiting for an answer, she began to stomp out of the room, when Beast bound before her exit with an apologetic look.
"Look," Jean soothed, grabbing her by the arms and turning her around. "I'm not exactly happy about this, either. But, I'll be the one to get you in, and I'll be watching. If he so much as lifts a finger against you, I'll take you right back here."
"Besides," Scott added, "you have an emotional relationship with the subject that gives you a strong advantage."
"Had!" Ororo shouted. "Had five years ago. And it didn't exactly end well. If anything, he'll be more likely to block me out than anyone else!"
* * *
How she ended up giving into the most deranged, and dangerous, mission of her life, she'd never know. Yet, there she was, sitting in a large, leather chair, a foot away from the man that was once her lover of three years. Jean, in a matching chair, told her to sit back and at least try to relax, much to her amusement.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks, edinarain, for the review! Was anyone else furious that in X-2, Wolverine went back to S.H.I.E.L.D. without Victor (and the rest of the team)? And William Stryker had nothing to do with it! exasperated sigh I need to write Bryan Singer someday.
Cyclops, Storm, Phoenix, Wolverine, Beast, their mentor Charles Xavier, and a time-traveling mutant called Forge stood around a single medical cot, upon which a mammoth of a man lay unconscious. Victor Creed lay upon the examining table, wearing nothing but a large, white towel and twelve EKG sensors. Ororo found it hard not to gawk at his body. Her eyes traveled from his biceps, which could intimidate Hulk Holugan even when they were completely relaxed, and his C-cup-sized pecs, to his eight abdominal muscles, perfectly defined despite his concussion. Her eyes followed a daringly low lucky trail past that annoying towel to a pair of enormous thighs and calves. Seeing his feet, memories sprang to her mind, and she almost giggled. However, remembering the man she was thinking of, she began to feel sick.
Xavier, who could sense the arousal and guilt past her blank face, cleared his throat to wake her from her daydream. "Are you feeling well, Ororo?"
"Fine," she said, though her eyes were seeped in anger. "What is this about?"
The blue-furred Dr. Hank McCoy answered. "Mr. Creed here is in a coma, presumably temporarily, with his healing factor. He and Logan had been fighting, as they often do, at a Sentinel base in Moscow, and there was a nuclear explosion." He turned to a short teammate with coarse, black hair. "How did you get away?"
Logan answered through a set jaw. "He threw me from the rooftop right before a bright flash, and the next thing I knew, I was in a forest."
"Either way," Jean Grey stated, "it's amazing either of you survived at all."
"If it weren't for their metabolic generating abilities, they wouldn't have," McCoy resumed.
Ororo anxiously stepped in. "Is there a viable reason that we're holding an organic killing machine in custody?"
"The fate of the entire mutant race stands on the edge of his life," said Forge. "As you all know, Creed met Logan at the base in an attempt to lure him away from the trail of Senator Robert Kelly, who his associates are holding captive. Now, in four months, the Mutant Registration Act will be passed, largely based upon Kelly's assassination six days from now."
"And how do we enhance our chances of stopping the MRA by keeping a murderer in our headquarters?" Scott Summers questioned.
Jean stepped forward slightly. "The professor and I have been interrogating Victor from the inside of his mind. You see, if we can figure out, through Sabretooth, where Kelly is and how he's being guarded, we might be able to save the Senator, as well as some forty million mutants in the next three decades."
"However," Xavier added, "we haven't had much success. Because Victor has no connection to his consciousness, his brain is operating purely by emotion, which, unfortunately, gives him the advantage over me. No matter how strong a telepath I may be, I can't change a man's subconscious."
"Where does that leave us now?" came Logan's harsh voice.
Forge seemed to be measuring Storm's emotions, as he slowly explained, "We were hoping that someone with an actual connection would be willing to step up to the plate."
Munroe almost imploded when she realized what he was asking. "ME?!?!" Not waiting for an answer, she began to stomp out of the room, when Beast bound before her exit with an apologetic look.
"Look," Jean soothed, grabbing her by the arms and turning her around. "I'm not exactly happy about this, either. But, I'll be the one to get you in, and I'll be watching. If he so much as lifts a finger against you, I'll take you right back here."
"Besides," Scott added, "you have an emotional relationship with the subject that gives you a strong advantage."
"Had!" Ororo shouted. "Had five years ago. And it didn't exactly end well. If anything, he'll be more likely to block me out than anyone else!"
* * *
How she ended up giving into the most deranged, and dangerous, mission of her life, she'd never know. Yet, there she was, sitting in a large, leather chair, a foot away from the man that was once her lover of three years. Jean, in a matching chair, told her to sit back and at least try to relax, much to her amusement.