Disclaimer:
I don't own X-Men Evolution, though I wish I did.
Summary:
An old foe from Evan's past has resurfaced, and now he and the Morlocks must journey to Africa to confront him and rescue their friend from a most terrible evil. Is Evan ready to take the responsibility of leader upon his shoulders? And worse, can any defeat a foe who can bring out their most dreaded of fears? This takes place right after 'Uprising.'
Spyke dropped down hard, splashing up water all around him as he landed on the sewer floor, and made his way down its myriad tunnels back to the Alley, where the others were waiting for him.
He arrived, tossing down the food he'd collected onto the only table that was present (raided from a garbage dump a few weeks prior) and sat down to one side as the starving Morlocks swarmed around the food, tearing open packages and gorging themselves as if they hadn't fed in ages. It was an all too familiar sight, for food was scared in the Morlock home, and you never knew when you got more. Still, always the others fed before Evan took any. This time he managed to snag a carton of milk beforehand, however, and ripped open the top, drinking it in one gulp, the much needed calcium flooding his body, even as it dribbled down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"There was no trouble?" asked Callisto, coming up behind Evan and sitting down on the pipe next to him.
"None," he replied, not facing her. "I wasn't even noticed."
"Good work Spyke," she said softly, giving him a gently (careful) pat on the back, smiling.
"Not good enough," he grumbled, shaking off her hand and standing, making his way into the sewers to be alone and brood. He'd been doing it more and more frequently lately. Truth be told, Callisto was worried about her second-in-command. Ever since their skirmish with the mob he'd been in this perpetual black mood, doing what was required of him and nothing more. It pained Callisto to see him suffer so.
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Evan growled as he reached an uninhabited part of the sewers, growing out some long, wickedly sharp spikes and slashing randomly at the walls in a vain attempt to let out his anger, shooting them in every direction as he growled in a berserker rage that would've done Sabertooth proud. Finally, exhausted, he collapsed onto his knees in the sewer water, panting for breath, as tears rolled down his cheeks.
He had to be strong for the Morlocks, had to be their Guardian. But no one could ever be there for Evan Daniels, he wouldn't let them. He wouldn't let anyone see him struggle, ever again.
When that kid, the pale-skinned mutant boy, had used his power, his spikes had vanished, and Evan had been as he'd always dreamed. Normal. And it was gone, now he was covered in spikes from head to toe, that made him a freak and an outcast. Even the other Morlocks would never understand him, for they'd never truly been normal to begin with. They'd been born the way they were, most of them. Only Callisto could truly pass on the surface without a cloak and hood, and even she was no beauty as far as the surface world was considered.
Evan thought she was beautiful though.
Not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually. She'd formed the Morlocks by sheer force of will, taking in those who most needed her care, and was willing to fight and die to protect them from the stupid, ignorant people who feared them. Evan couldn't help but admire her. But she would never care for him as anything but her second-in-command, or worse, a rival. She'd already expressed her concerns over the Morlocks following him instead of her.
"Guess I owe you an apology, K-Man," he stated quietly to no one in particular. When Kurt had first announced he was in love, Evan had scoffed at the notion. Openly. He'd never believed in love anyway, not in true, self-sacrificing love like the sort that took up those romance novels his mother and aunt loved so much. The only love he'd seen had been his parents, and he'd never thought he'd ever fall for a girl that hard. But he had.
Evan growled, drawing back in the few spikes he'd popped just for his hack and slash exercise, those that he still could, and walked back to rejoin the others. It was getting late, and he would be needed for guard duty as the majority of the Morlocks went to get some sleep.
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Torpid watched Evan go, half-hidden behind an adjacent corridor. Though not as quiet or unnoticeable as Façade, all Morlocks learned very quickly in order to survive, sometimes you had to be unnoticed. She'd seen Evan's rampage, seen him cry, but couldn't bring herself to go over and comfort him. She was scared of him, afraid this was a private moment, that he did not wish for intrusion. But Torpid looked up to Evan, ever since he'd saved her at the Pow-R8 facility, and considered him her older brother. Torpid thus kept out of sight as Evan trudged off back down the corridors, keeping out of view, and just sadly watched him go.
Torpid's history, like that of most Morlocks, was not pretty. Since the emergence of her powers at such a young age, her mother left the family, claiming she was no child of hers. Her father had turned to drinking, and one night he was pushed too far. In a drunken rage he grabbed a kitchen knife and tried to kill Torpid, who'd used her powers for the first time to paralyze her father. Unfortunately, his momentum carried him forward, and the knife was still in his hands, and he fell right atop of the sharp blade. Torpid had not known what to do, how to save him.
He pierced his stomach, died perhaps an hour later from blood loss, aware of ever horrible detail right up until the light left his eyes.
The little Morlock girl known as Torpid had not said a word since that terrible day.
Callisto had come along her, starving in the alleyways, and given her a home. Torpid saw her as the mother she never had, who never failed to be gentle with her, even in the rough and tumble lifestyle of the sewer mutants. And now Evan came along, and he was their guardian, keeping all the Morlocks safe from mean, normal humans. Just like her father had been.
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The Morlocks bedded down for the night, raising tents in the Alley to keep the moisture off their heads as they grabbed what sleeping blankets and rags they could and lay down on the cold, relatively dry floor of the Alley, falling asleep. Spyke stood on guard, watching over them by the main entrance to the Alley, and even failing that Callisto or Calliban would sense intruders long before they reached them. The candles were blown out, the lanterns extinguished, and the Alley was plunged into darkness for the night.
One by one they fell asleep, leaving only two awake. Spyke, who stood by the door, leaning against the wall as he watched the sewer rats and swirling dark waters of the dark tunnels. And one other, who's eye pierced the darkness to rest on Evan, watching him always. Though Callisto felt safe enough to sleep, with Spyke guarding them, she did not feel perhaps so comfortable with her own thoughts right now. Thoughts of Evan Daniels.
Callisto had never in her life cared for her beauty, never cared for the scar that graced her face or the patch that covered he wounded eye, but now she could not help but think of what Evan must think of her, compared to the normal looking girls he'd once known topside. She must have been ugly and filthy, too muscled and harsh-tongued. She had nothing to offer him, and he had given her and the Morlocks everything, the safety and security that she herself had been unable to provide. Callisto sighed softly, though in the dark, empty cavern of the Alley, the sound carried, and Spyke glanced her way, seeing her silhouette amongst the shadows, and smiled. She smiled back, her heart beating in her chest as she lay back and did her best to fall asleep, confident he would wake her before long to take her own shift.
Silence reigned in the Alley, as the inhabitants dreamed.
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Author's Notes:
Obviously, this story contains elements of a Callisto/Evan romance. The first, I think, to appear in fan fiction. Hope you all enjoy.