By Saturnian Blonde
Standard Questionably Useful Disclaimer: Marvel owns all rights to characters, names, etc. No profit is being made from use of anything. Yet.
Rating: PG-13 (wow, my rating's almost justified with some of the language I use!)
Time: I've said it before, this is definitely an Alternate Universe, cause I've changed enough things to make it so. It takes place roughly a year after DoR, and then a little more. It combines more aspects of the movie than the comics, but since I try to keep it more X:Evo, that's what I put it under. I have taken the liberty of ageing the characters (some) a little bit, so I'll clarify:
Jean, Scott, Remy: 20
London: 20
Bobby, Rogue, Kurt, Kitty, Evan: 19
Jubilee, Amara, and the others: 17
Logan, the Professor, etc. : Lord knows, it's impolite to ask. Old, lets say.
Chapter EightBobby woke up late in the night, or early, much before the sun would even think of rising. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and as soon as he did, his thoughts slipped to London. He looked to her bed to find it was empty, but before he looked any further he saw her on the balcony, sitting on the railing looking out to the city.
He opened the door, waiting for her to turn to see who it was before he walked outside. The last thing I need is to scare her and have her fall, right? She looked startled that he was up, and either alarmed or pleased that he was only wearing pyjama pants. He leaned against the railing, looking out past her.
"I don't think I should insult your intelligence by asking what time it is…" he began. She shook her head. She only wore her nightgown, a long white dress that blew in the breeze, and a matching scarf around her neck. The sky was only beginning to lighten, making her skin seem ghostly white and the veins a stark contrast to her beauty. She seemed beautiful, in an ethereal sense, like she might disappear at any moment.
"I couldn't sleep." She whispered. Her eyes were puffy and red, and he placed his hand over hers.
"Want to talk about it?" He offered, and she shook her head calmly.
"There's nothing to say, really. It happened, these things do." She looked back out over the skyline.
"Okay, would you mind coming down from there, its really starting to make me worry…." She laughed, smiling lightly, and carefully climbed away from the edge. "Thank you… I don't know, it's something about being on the 14th floor, I guess…"
"Well, would you like some breakfast?" She asked, moving to head inside.
"At 4 in the morning?" She paused, turning back to him.
"Yeah, I guess it is a little early." She sheepishly hung her head and sat down on a chair. He looked at her, trying to figure her out.
"How do you do that?" he asked at length. She looked up.
"What?"
"Change the subject so easily. Just seem to push the bad things away," he leaned forward, leaning on his knees. For a moment, she looked abashed; like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, she searched for an answer.
"I don't know. I guess it's just the way I work. How do you think I got a degree from a university at 18? I just remember facts and things easily. But I don't remember emotions, memories… unless they're really important to me, I'll just as soon forget them. It's my own little way of dealing."
"So given, say, a month or two, you won't remember anything that happened?"
"Usually it takes longer. I just choose what I want or don't want to remember."
"So, if you ever leave the mansion, would you remember the people in it?"
"Sure, but perhaps only how each person made me feel."
"Would you forget… someone you admire?" London wondered at his little game, but grinned and played along.
"Probably not. I'd remember faces, smaller details about them."
"Would you forget… me?" She looked up at him, her eyes fixed in his blue orbs. They sat there, each afraid to look away.
"No…" She said softly. "No, I'd never forget you." She paused, and grinned. "God, that sounded corny…" He laughed as well.
London let Bobby drive home, despite protests from Kitty that she wanted to, and agreeing with Rogue on protests against Kitty driving. Sitting idly in the back seat, drumming her fingers against her knees, she couldn't help but think about last night.
Disbelief being foremost on her mind. How could Lena act like that? She never once said anything about how she felt… she encouraged me to borrow her powers to get our group further along. Maybe it was just the alcohol… she's always been a cheap drunk. She sighed, then berated herself, hoping the others didn't turn from their conversations to notice her melancholic mood.
I have this nagging feeling like I should be more upset, she thought as she watched the passing trees. The leaves were just unravelling, making it look more and more like spring. I mean… yeah, okay, right when I heard I was a little shell-shocked. After that I was hurt, and frustrated…now, I just feel bitter that she… well, did she use me, or did I use her? It's empty, indifferent. Why don't I feel anything?
Something landed in her lap, a crumpled up piece of paper. She stared at it, trying to figure out why it seemed so out of place. She looked over, to see Bobby and Kurt in the front seat talking away about some upcoming hockey playoff – as if, the Leafs are gonna take it -, and Kitty was asleep in the middle of her and Rogue…
Rogue. She sat looking out the window, seemingly oblivious to everything. London would have believed it, were it not for the notebook on her lap and the pen in her hand. She looked over, smiling innocently. London unfurled the note.
'Sorry for the waste of paper, but there's no way in hell ah want ta wake up the cheerleader.' London looked back over. Kitty was fast asleep, and after the way she complained about not being allowed to drive, London felt inclined to agree with Rogue.
'And ah'd rather keep this between the two of us. Wonderin' if ya could help meh wit' something…" It ended, and London dug around her purse for something to write with.
'Shoot.' She wrote back, casually bouncing the ball of paper off Kitty's head into Rogue's lap. Her eyes widened as Kitty shifted, but remained asleep. London turned to looking back out the window, feeling slightly nostalgic already as they passed the Border to the States.
A couple minutes later, the same wad of paper bounced off her nose, startling her again.
'Well, I was thinking. Since you know a lot about genetics and stuff, and since ah'd rather talk to you than the Professor or Hank, I was wondering if you could hopefully explain some stuff to me.'
'Sure, what do you want ta know? (nice aim, by the way…)' She replied, playfully throwing it back at Rogue's head.
'Well, mostly, I was wonderin' if ya could help me with mah own powers. You have no idea how much ah want ta learn control, and I think you're the one to go to for control lessons…plus, ah think everyone else ah could possibly ask would be too condescending to be of any use.'
'Well, sure, I guess I could. It shouldn't be that hard. We could start just by… hmm… you know, I'll explain it later, but I think I know where we can start…'
'Thank ya thank ya thank ya! Oh, ah should warn ya… the Professor's been askin' about how you got captured and stuff… with Trask and all. Ah know that he's asked Logan, and me and Evan, too. Ah haven't told him, and Evan doesn't know much, but I know he's curious about it.'
"What?" she whispered, leaning over Kitty.
"It's true. He's been asking us who were captured, and I think he was soon gonna ask Fred, too." London sat quiet for a while, and Rogue left her alone to her thoughts.
London hadn't thought about Trask in a long time, but despite her best efforts and horrendous memory, she hadn't been able to put those memories out of her mind. She felt guilty. That place was the only thing she ever regretted.
A new ball of paper landed in her lap, and she eyed it carefully before hesitantly opening it.
'Ah swear ah'd never tell a soul, if you need someone to talk ta. Ah was there, ya know.' The corner of her mouth quirked, and she picked up her pen, reminding herself to breathe before she put it to paper.
'I was hired there as a geneticist, mainly because the pay was good. They never realized I was a mutant, and I wasn't exactly going to tell them, the world being as it is. It was almost a month before I was actually asked to do 'lab' work, and as soon as I realized what that exactly was, I wanted out. Even being a thief and having no conscience, there was no way I could have thought about ever doing any of the stuff Trask did. The first time I was in the lab, I saw what they were doing to Fred, how they were testing his constitution, his indestructibility. I felt so bad for him, but there was nothing I could do. It was two days before I was able to sneak into the cell blocks with some painkillers. When I saw how bad he was, I had to do something. I knew how to heal, and I tried to heal him as best as I could…but you saw the rest…'
Rogue read and reread the note, remembering herself. Indeed, she knew the rest. She was one of the only ones to actually see her heal Fred, before two night watchmen spotted her. She tried to lie her way out of it, but there was no mistaking the pale glow of her hands as she pulled the high fever out of Fred's body. They dragged her out, and Rogue thought she'd never be seen again, until a week later London finally returned, comatose. It was two days before she regained consciousness after that, and she hadn't spoken a word after that, until the day they escaped.
'How come ya never left with us?'
'My-' and she paused before she wrote the word, 'friend was in another cell-block, and I had to make sure she got out too. The one I met yesterday in Toronto.'
'Do you not want the Professor ta know all that? It really ain't all that bad. Hell, he made us have therapy sessions for months after, and ya just left.'
'With my reputation, and remember the first time the rest of them met me was because I broke into Hank's computer database, I don't think it'll be of much help. Besides, it's been, what-' and she counted on her fingers, 'over a year since all that happened… what's the point?'
"Suit yoahself." She said aloud, unafraid of the others listening in or caring anymore. "We're home," she said, seeing the gates of the Institute.
"Finally," Kitty said sleepily as she rubbed her eyes. "I can't wait to, like, get out and stretch and stuff."
"I can't vait for food!" Kurt said, bamfing out of the car, leaving dark smoke inside.
"Kurt!" Rogue cried, coughing and fanning the smoke out the window. "When ah get mah hands on that little…"
"Enjoy your little vacation?" Principal Darkholme asked as she entered the empty classroom Monday morning. London sat on a desk, grading marks for quizzes and waiting for her so they could begin.
"So much, you have no idea. Think I could have skipped the whole thing entirely." She said, putting the stack of paper aside.
"Get any practice?" She shook her head. "Well, since you still can't change shape without passing out, we should try something else." London grinned a little, even through the insult.
"See if you can mimic my powers, and we'll see if it's easier to just change the outside, not the DNA."
London got off the desk, standing a foot away from her. As soon as she prepped herself up mentally, she reached out for Mystique's arm. Just touching it lightly, Mystique watched as the veins on her hands flared, growing darker as they slowly spread up her arm. By the time the markings were solid all up her arm and through her neck and face, a light tingling spread through her touch, like an electric spark, tickling her. When London pulled away, her eyes closed still, the feeling receded from Mystiques arm, and she waited for any response from the shorter woman. She finally looked up after a minute had passed.
"Okay." She said, a little breathless. "I don't know how long I can hold it, this is really new to me."
"Think about something to change; something small, like the colour of your eyes. Imagine it being that colour, and then try to make it so."
London tried to think of her eyes being a different colour, blue being the first she could think of. She had a feeling that this was really different from the way she was used to doing it, going from actually changing the make-up of the eyes, to just changing how it looks. It's kinda like rearranging things to make it that colour… I'm not trying to change the base of it, then have it shift itself to match it. When she was satisfied that she had accomplished it – I hope -, she opened her eyes and looked up at Mystique.
"Well, it's a start." She said, raising her eyebrows. Grabbing a mirror from her pocket, she handed it over to London.
"Holy Tap Dancing Jebbus Buddy Christ!" She swore, staring at the reflection.
"Oh, are we bringing out the big words now?" Mystique groaned, crossing her arms.
"Are you kidding? My eyes look like they've been drawn in by a two year old with a crayon!" Her eyes, while a vibrant blue, were solid blue. No iris, no pupil, just two solid blue eyeballs.
"You expected any better? This is your first time…"
"Yeah, but still, I didn't expect them to look that bad…" she said, groaning as she handed back the mirror.
"You just have to realize that it isn't just colour that appears. Next, is the rest of your eyes. Then, you start having to detail them, blend them together till it actually looks like an eyeball, not a small child's drawing."
"This is going to be a long day, isn't it?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?"
By the time London got back to the Mansion, she had a whole new admiration for teachers. Well, not really, she thought, but she did pity them for having to put up with all the crap they did. She pitied herself even more for having to pretend to be a teacher to put up with all the crap they did.
She dropped her bag by the door, shuffling along into the living room, where Evan, Kurt and Bobby were setting up what appeared to be a Playstation to what appeared to be the TV.
"The set-up can't be as complicated as you three make it seem to be." She commented as she dropped into a chair, hanging her legs over an arm.
"Well, I'm sure it wouldn't have been if someone," Evan growled, glaring at Kurt, "hadn't lost the English Instructions!"
"Hey! It vasn't my fault! I handed dem to you!" Kurt retorted, crossing his arms.
"Then why don't I have them?"
"Boys!" London cried over their shouting. "Do you have any instructions?"
"Ve are guys! Ve don't need no panzy instructions!" Kurt argued, trying to maintain his macho image. Which failed, considering the plastic wrapping was stuck to his fur with static cling.
"Besides, the only sheets we have are the wanker French instructions!" The room went silent long before Evan had even finished the sentence, London glaring at him, one eye raised curiously.
"But, em… that is, they… well, don't get me …um-"
"London, since you are the nicest, prettiest, smartest, oldest-in-a-good-way, wittiest girl here….." London rolled her eyes in disgust.
"Just gimme the instructions."
"Right-o, Boss Lady." Bobby handed them over. Five minutes later, they finally had the system hooked up properly.
"Alright, and welcome to the 2nd annual Game Fest, the most exciting, thrill-packed contest of smarts, wits, hand-eye co-ordination, and thumb dexterity on the face of the Earth!"
"Spare me." London moaned.
"London, you gonna join? You've been bragging all week over how you could beat me, gonna chicken out now? I can understand if you're scared…"
"Bring it on, pussy!" She said, raising her face and staring him down.
"Kurt if you will, choose this year's first official Game!" London watched, slightly amused as Kurt made a big show of reaching into a paper bag and drawing a game out of it.
"Dis year, the round one Cup will be played to the tune of… Resident Evil!" The guys went wild as London sat there, trying to understand what he had just said.
"Resident… evil?" she repeated, meekly.
"Yeah, only the best action-horror game on the face of… well, maybe on this side of the globe. You'd love it, London, all the blood, gore, killer-viruses, flesh-eating zombies…" Evan continued on through his semi-accurate description of the plot, but London couldn't listen as she watched the opening intro of the game.
"I gotta get out of here!" She said, getting up to leave, but Kurt ported on top of her.
"And vhere do you think you are going?"
"Anywhere but here! There is no way you are getting me to play that game! Now get off of me!" She yelled, trying to push him off.
"What, are you scared?"
"No." she tried to spit it out, but she couldn't keep the doubt from her voice.
"You are!" Evan said, laughing. You're afraid of a little video game!"
"I am not." She said, but saw the sceptical faces, as well as the crowd of younger students who were watching the display. "I'm NOT! Fine, start your game." She told them, finally managing to twist out from under Kurt. Sitting up as straight as she could, she tried to look fine as the game started, and the on-screen characters entered the abandoned mansion. Don't let them see you're scared, girl, she tried telling herself as Evan seemed to whiz through the large, elaborate rooms. It's just a coincidence that the mansion in the game looks frighteningly like the one you're in. And that Kurt, when he's hanging from walls and ceilings, looks an awful lot like those Hunters… with large teeth, and claws... She shut her eyes as soon as the first zombie appeared on screen. And then they get to the lab. Even more looking like the med-lab downstairs. Or like Trask's laboratory.
"Hey, no fair, you have to watch!" Bobby said, pinching her. She opened them, watching edgily as she shuddered. You know… Rahne in her canine form looks a lot like the dogs infected with the virus… minus the bits of flesh handing off their bodies… dead, decaying wolves…
"That's it! I can't sit here!" She cried, jumping up and running out before either of the guys could grab her back into her seat.
"Man, what's eating' her?" Evan asked, half-heartedly, not even tearing his eyes off the screen. The others shrugged, in the same mindless state, until Kurt paused the game.
"I've got a great idea for a joke…"
London stared furiously at the alarm as it blinked 1:57am. She trembled every time she tried to close her eyes, unable to get rid of the picture of zombies coming in the bedroom door and trying to eat her. She told herself it was impossible, improbably, and just plain stupid, but it wouldn't get the images out of her head.
She finally got up, unable to close her eyes even for the slightest moment. Throwing on her hooded sweatshirt, she made sure she had her bracelet (Logan was on watch tonight, and there wasn't any impulse to be impaled on his claws tonight more than any other), and tiptoed past Rogue's sleeping form, closing the door silently. Heading downstairs, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, trying to adjust to the dark. She thought she heard something behind her, and paused to see what it was.
"Logan? That you?" she whispered, heading towards the noise. She tried to calm herself, stop the shaking in her hands, but she couldn't as recurring images of that damned video game kept popping back into her mind. When she didn't hear any more noise, she turned back to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
As she disappeared down the hall, two heads popped out from behind a pillar.
"Kurt… you ready for this?" Bobby's voice whispered through the darkness.
"I can't vait to see ze face she makes…" He murmured back from his perch on the ceiling.
"Just make sure you don't run into Logan. You better hurry, man, she'll be coming back soon!" Evan hurried him along, and the quiet sound of his departure left the two boys alone in the dark, waiting for Kurt's return. The silence hung over the mansion as they two began to get nervous.
"What's taking him so long?"
A shrill, painful scream pierced through the silence, coming out of the kitchen, followed by a bamf right beside the two. They looked to see Kurt turn off his image inducer, which they had reprogrammed with data from their video game to show the image of a zombie.
"You should have seen her face!"
London poured herself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as she sipped it. She thought she smelled brimstone, but shook it off as Kurt's 1 am snack. Or maybe the 2 am… matter of fact, he almost does it every hour. She still couldn't shake the feeling that at any moment, the mansion would turn into some haunted house of horrors. She mentally slapped herself, shaking her head as if to rid herself the thoughts. Come on, London. You're 20 and still scared of the monsters you've had since you were 7. Grow up.
She heard something like scraping, and her heart jumped into her throat. Get a grip! She thought, setting her glass down and looking around the corner of the hall. The emptiness almost made her wish there was someone there, or at least that dawn would come a little sooner.
"There's no one there, silly. No people. No monsters…" she said, turning back to pick up her glass and head to the danger room for a simulation or two. Maybe if she saw Logan she would invite him, see if he could help her more with her self-defence.
A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she slowly turned, thinking – oh, who am I kidding, I HOPE!- it was only Logan.
She gasped as she saw the person behind her. Her vision flashed back to the nightmares she had as a kid. She could see monsters creeping towards her, slimy tentacles, bloody hands. It turned back to the kitchen, with a person – a zombie!- grabbing her shoulders.
She was aware of a piercing scream ringing in her ears, and it took her a moment to realize it was her own voice. Her heart suddenly contracted, as if her whole chest had exploded, and before she knew it, it was gone, in a pouf of smoke and a familiar noise that she should have been able to remember. Her heart continued to send waves of shock through her body, but after a couple seconds, her mind registered that it wasn't just her fear and shock… something was wrong. Terribly wrong. And it hurt real bad, too.
She collapsed in a wave of pain, coursing through her rib cage until it blossomed through her entire nerve networks. Grasping for her chest, her throat, her heart, she looked for any sign that something was wrong, but still the pain kept floating through her. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed; every breath she took was like liquid fire, her bones stabbing into her lungs.
She idly wondered as her vision turned to a blinding whiteness whether the pain would ever go away.
Logan heard the scream first with his sensitive hearing, and guessing it came from the back porch, he ran around the house, looking for any danger. When he didn't see or hear anything, he relaxed, until he smelt blood from the kitchen. He entered cautiously, but hearing the shallow wheezes of something – or someone- he peered around the centre island.
Logan, what is the trouble?
He knelt down slowly beside London, who was doubled over and coughing, clutching her chest. 'Chuck, send Hank down here, on the double, something's wrong with London,' he thought at the Professor, turning back to her. The coughs were increasing, and as she pulled away her hand from her mouth, he could see the blood. He gently reached out to touch her arm, but the moment he made contact with her skin – no, her markings- he felt the same pain throughout his chest that she did. Snatching her hand away from him, he blinked as the lights turned on, and he looked up to see Hank, Jean and Ororo enter the kitchen.
"My stars…" Hank was taken aback at the sight, and quickly rushed to her side.
"Don't touch her veined skin; it's like she's sending what she feels through contact."
"London! What is wrong? London?" He tried to ask her, but she pulled away from his hovering hand, one hand doing it's best to hold herself up, the other trying to contain her pain against her chest.
"It hurts…" she whimpered, tears streaking her face. "I can't make it stop!" She teetered before collapsing against Hank's furry arms, his fur stopping the transfer of her own pain to him.
"It's her chest, or her lungs or something. When I touched her, I could feel what she felt." He held his hand against her skin again, feeling the same suffering coursing through him. He tried to bear it, but even he had to pull away after a moment.
"Jean, can you ask her?" Jean's brows furrowed, trying to talk to London, but all she could sense was a strong wall around her mind.
"She's shielding me…" She tried coaxing London through the wall, to let her in, but as soon as she got near the wall she, too, could feel the pain she felt. She wobbled on her feet, Ororo steadying her. Then she felt London pull her psyche along the wall before kicking her right out again. But not without some surface impressions.
"It's her ribs, she thinks they've shattered. One feels like it's punctured her lung. She can't gain control enough to stop it. Her emotions are all over. She's afraid for some reason. Terrified."
Hank tried to rouse London, who had stilled considerably against him, but she didn't respond. Her breathing was shallow and weak.
"Get her to the med lab." Hank said, the urgency in his voice undisguised. He was on the verge of panic. Jean lifted her up, floating her almost at a run as they rushed her down to the lower levels.
"Do you know what happened?" Ororo asked Logan, who sniffed the room.
"No. But I got a feeling we already know who to ask."
Wow… and you should thank me, this is a long chapter, too! So what do you think? I really want to have the main romance as London and… Bobby? But I really don't know how to draw his character. I think he's kinda either A) the next little Scott, or B) the next prankster. It's divided. What do you say? And don't worry, there will be some Rogue/Remy in later chapters…