Disclaimer: They're not mine, but after what I'm about to do to them, Marvel may not want them back. Making no money.
Warning: There will be some very disturbing imagery in this chapter and, though not graphic, there is also implied rape and sexual abuse, and character death (Though the character is from an alternate universe). If this offends you, please skip it.
Many thanks to my reviewers:
Caliente: As always, you are the best! I feel really sorry for Kurt, too. If they were gonna take Amanda away, they could have at least left him Cerise. I promise, we'll get to Amanda soon. I may even send her to Westchester, and Kurt, but after that, it's up to him what he does with her. ;) Glad you liked the sparring matches. And, yes, I think the thing between Peter and Rogue in the X-Men was a little strange and disturbing myself. I'm choosing to ignore anything between them other than friendship. Now, on to more about Kitty and Betsy, but it may not clear up a whole lot, yet. Things will get worse before they get better.
T.A. pixiestix: Thank you so much! Glad you're enjoying the ride so far. The voices in my head that seem to have taken over the writing of this story tell me that they have some very interesting things in store for our favorite X-Men. And I'm trying to get enough background into this that you won't necessarily have to know a whole lot about the comics to understand the story.
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Chapter 7 – Fade to Black
The medlab was in complete and total chaos.
Cecelia Reyes and Hank McCoy worked quickly and diligently, like the pros that they were, hooking their two patients up to various monitors, assessing their condition, trying to determine the most pressing concerns in order to address and treat them properly.
These efforts were unintentionally hampered by the presence of the entire roster of X-Men currently in residence.
The two doctors tried to remove the well-meaning and concerned observers several times, only partially succeeding. They had managed to eject most of the team, but Peter, Logan, and Neal had absolutely refused to leave, Wolverine becoming particularly hostile at the suggestion. In the interest of their patients welfare and their own, Hank and Cecelia had finally given up and let them stay. Now, if they could only get them out of the way so they could do their job.
Finally, Dr. Reyes, who was not particularly known for her wealth of patience at the best of times, had enough and turned on the three observers.
"Look, if you want us to be able to help Betsy and Kitty you are going to have to GET OUT OF OUR WAY! NOW!"
She shoved at the nearest body, which happened to be Neal, and sent him stumbling backward several paces. The ferocious outburst had the desired effect, at least for the moment, as all three finally moved off to the side, giving the two doctors room to work properly.
Like the well honed team they were, the two physicians worked in efficient silence, Hank monitoring the patients vitals for clues to their continued state of unconsciousness while Cecelia checked their wounds, stitching up any that needed it, then cleaning, medicating and bandaging the rest.
When she was finished, she turned to Hank with a questioning expression.
"Ok, Hank, enlighten me. I can't find any indication of head injuries, broken bones, or major trauma. Why are they still out?"
The large, blue furred man shook his head in obvious confusion as he looked from one patient to the other.
"Frankly, Cecelia, I haven't the foggiest notion. Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature, respiration...they're all well within normal parameters. Pupils on both are equal and reactive. I've taken some blood samples and they're analyzing now, but, frankly, I haven't found one single reason why either young woman is still unconscious."
"Maybe it had something to do with trying to pummel one another to death." she grumbled under her breath as she studied her two prone charges. What had they been thinking?
"Ok." she said with a sigh and a tired shake of her head. This seemed about par for the course for this group. Why couldn't it ever be something simple and normal, like a concussion or a nice epileptic seizure? Or asthma? But no. It would undoubtedly prove to be something convoluted and confusing, if not downright otherworldly, that could only happen to these people. They attracted the strange and unbelievable like giant weirdness magnets. "I guess our next step is X-rays and a CAT scan, maybe an encephalogram..."
As Hank nodded his agreement and began setting up for further tests, she turned to the other three mutants in the room.
"Were any of you three present when they lost consciousness?"
Peter stepped forward, face pale and creased with worry, looking as if he might join his teammates in la-la land at any minute.
"I was there."
"Ok, Peter," she came over to stand in front of the large Russian, studying his face intently. "tell me everything that happened, starting from the first moment you noticed that something was wrong."
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"And you say that Kitty's eyes were glowing?" asked the flabbergasted Dr. Reyes, putting one hand over her face. It was going to be a very long night.
The dark haired young man nodded, glancing worriedly in the direction of the exam table where Katherine Pryde's prone form lay, still as death.
"It's ok, Peter." Cecelia said somewhat more gently as she followed the direction of his gaze, unable to sustain her irritation with the situation in light of the young man's obvious worry about his teammate and friend. "I'm sure she and Betsy will be just fine. Now, what about Betsy?" Oh, good grief. I can't believe I'm actually about to ask this question, Dr. Reyes thought. "Were her eyes glowing as well?"
"No. The tattoo over her left eye, the mark of the Crimson Dawn, was, however. They both seemed to be completely unaware of their actions, as if they were in a trance."
Of course. She should have known. Glowing eyes and glowing mystical tattoos. Wonderful.
"I thought Betsy gave up, or got rid of, or did something about all that Crimson Dawn stuff a while back."
"Da. So did we all."
Turning back to Hank, Dr. Reyes had the nearly overwhelming urge to fling her hands up in defeat. How, exactly, did one fight the possession of two mutant ninja's by a mystical dimension of power? This was never covered in any of her advanced medical biology classes.
These people don't need a doctor. They need an exorcist.
"What do you think, Henry? Could this Crimson Whatever be responsible for their present state?"
"Possibly." The large man scratched his chin thoughtfully with one clawed paw. "Though I have never known it to take possession of an unconnected bystander before. Perhaps the results of these additional tests will shed further light onto the problem. As of this moment, their vital signs are stable and, other than remaining unconscious, they appear otherwise normal and healthy."
"Well, that's something, I suppose." Picking up a clipboard, Dr. Reyes went to each woman in turn, making notations on their charts, looking for even the smallest discrepancy or common thread that might give them an idea of what they needed to do for these two. After a moment, she called back to the other three people still standing to one side of the room. "Logan, Neal, Peter, you might as well go have a seat with everyone else, tell them what's going on. If anything changes, we'll let you know."
When no one moved, Cecelia stopped what she was doing to give them a sympathetic look.
"Look, guys, there's nothing you can do in here right now. I know you're all worried about Betsy and Kitty, but we can do our jobs better if we don't have to work around the three of you. I promise, if they wake up, or if there's even the slightest change in their condition, I'll let you know immediately. OK?"
After a moments hesitation, Logan nodded. "You be sure you do that, Doc."
Heading for the door, the feral Canadian and motioned for the two younger men to do the same. They reluctantly complied, Peter stealing one last glance at Kitty before following Neal and Logan out into the hall, where the rest of the team waited.
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All the world was darkness. Not simply due to the absence of light, but also the absence of hope, of any chance that she would have anything left to look forward to, in whatever was left of her life, but suffering and the peace of death.
She was all alone now. There was no one to come for her, no one left to rescue her.
Storm had promised to come back for her, promised not to leave her. They would all go home together. That's what she'd said. But it hadn't worked out that way at all.
Kitty had seen them, Belasco and the big, purple demon, S'ym, dragging Kurt and Logan back into the Demon Lord's throne room.
He'd left her trapped , frozen in the eldrich crystal, able to see, able to hear, to think, but unable to move or to utter the smallest sound. Kitty was pretty sure that this was hell.
So, she'd heard what Belasco offered them, to make them his apprentices, to let them serve him.
Logan had refused, of course, loudly and violently. He'd fought with all his might against his captors, right up until he'd drawn his last breath as Belasco methodically stripped the flesh from his bones, leaving his adamantium laced skeleton where it had fallen to one side of the chamber.
After witnessing that horror, Kurt had seemed to fold in on himself, giving up, giving in. She'd watched helplessly, day by day, as Belasco corrupted him, until he was only a demon wearing the the face of the man that had once been her friend.
Now, that demon delighted in tormenting her, coming to her each day, whispering to her of the horrors that awaited her at Belasco's hands, telling her of the deaths of Illyana, Ororo...and Peter.
Her family, her world, everything she had been and could ever be, gone like so much smoke in a windstorm. And the magic of the crystal, where she was trapped and displayed, like a moth in amber, wouldn't even allow her to cry.
Belasco had done horrible things to her, beaten her, tortured her, imprisoned her like some kind of trophy and put her on display. But the worst thing, the very worst, was what he'd done to her last.
He'd done far worse than turn her into a demon. Belasco had turned her into an animal, using some vile, evil spell to take away her humanity and make her into something resembling her namesake. The Kitty had become a Cat.
But still she refused to give in. Despite the beatings, the threats, the abuse, and even the loss of her self, Kitty refused to give in to him. She wold not become what he was as long as she was able to draw breath.
He wanted her for his apprentice, had offered her an amulet of power, had offered to teach her the dark arts, but Peter's face appeared in front of her every time she weakened, even the tiniest bit, and Kitty knew she would die a thousand deaths before she went willingly into damnation.
Belasco had been responsible for the death of everything she held dear in her life. Storm, her surrogate mother, Logan, her surrogate father, Kurt, her best friend who was worse than dead, Illyana, a child she loved as if she were her own sister, and Peter, who had held her heart and soul in his hands. After such atrocities, how could the demon believe she would ever join him.
So she stayed here, imprisoned in her crystal prison, enduring one beating after another, endless torture at the hands of Belasco, S'ym, and the thing that had once been Kurt Wagner, and waiting for death to finally come for her and take her into the arms of those who had gone before.
Kitty was fifteen years old and knew she would never see another birthday.
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"Henry, come take a look at this."
Cecelia Reyes was watching the display from the machine that monitored her patients brain activity, her brows knit together in a scowl as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. This couldn't be right.
Hank McCoy left his microscope, coming to stand beside the other doctor as he took a look at the readouts she indicated. After studying it for several moments, he turned to his colleague, his expression just as puzzled as her own.
"This is impossible. Or, at least, it should be. Hold on a moment."
Tearing off the paper printout from Kitty's machine, he compared it to the readout from the one monitoring Betsy, shaking his head in amazement. Her tore the printout off of that machine as well and took them back over to Cecelia, so that she could see them side by side as well.
"What do you make of this?"
Taking both readouts in her hand, Dr. Reyes studied them carefully, matching the lines of the graph, comparing them to one another. Turning to Hank, she waved the papers at him, lips pursed thoughtfully.
"Do we have any previous readings from Kitty or Betsy, before this happened? I've got a suspicion, but I need something to compare these to."
"I believe we do. That information should be stored in their patient records on the computer."
The two doctors made their way to a nearby console, Hank taking a seat in the chair as he began typing on the keyboard. In a few moments, the screen displayed readouts from both Betsy and Kitty's files.
"Can you print those out?"
"Absolutely." Hank replied, hitting another button on the keyboard, and the nearby printer immediately started spitting out papers.
Cecelia grabbed the sheets as they came shooting out , took them over to an empty space along one counter and began laying it all out side by side. Her eyes narrowed as she looked from the computer printouts to the ones she had recently pulled out of the two monitors.
"Hank, I think I've got something." She waited until the large man had joined her at the counter, then pointed to various similar looking lines on two different pages of readouts from Betsy. "Ok, you see these two here? See how similar they are?" She then pointed to the same areas on Kitty's readouts. "And these are the same." Shuffling some papers around, she laid the two most recent printouts side by side, their correlating earlier versions on each side of those. "Now, look at this line here. They're the same as what's on the previous readouts. That's each woman's normal brainwave pattern. But compare the two most recent only with one another and tell me what you see."
Taking a few minutes, Henry McCoy studied the four pieces of paper, paying particular attention to the most recent two sitting side by side. Suddenly, his eyes went wide in surprise as he looked up at his partner in the medical arts.
"These lines are the same," he pointed to two separate areas on each patients print out. "in both Betsy and Kitty, almost exactly, while the rest of the graph matches each woman's previous independent reading. Amazing."
Cecelia nodded solemnly. "Yes, it is. Somehow, while still retaining the majority of their own brain wave patterns, Katherine and Elisabeth have also correlated part of their brain activity to one another, effectively connecting them together, mind to mind." The lovely, mutant doctor sighed heavily, clenching her fists in frustration. "But is this information going to tell us why they've been unconscious for the last forty eight hours?"
"I honestly can't say," Dr. McCoy responded. "but it does tell us that, whatever it is keeping one unconscious is doing the same for the other as well. If Betsy's telepathy were still active, I'd be inclined to blame that, but I don't see how that's possible in this instance. And Katherine, to my knowledge, has never displayed any sort of telepathic or telekinetic ability."
"Then, what do we know about this Crimson Dawn thing?" Cecelia's mind was working overtime, grasping at any possible connection between the two women. "Could it be somehow responsible?"
"I'm afraid our knowledge of that mystical realm, and it's attendant gifts and powers, is extremely limited as well. Though I certainly have never known of this to happen before, even when Betsy's Crimson Dawn enhanced abilities were active, I suppose anything is possible. It definitely bears checking into."
Scrubbing her palm across her face roughly, Cecelia headed back to the bank of monitors attached to both patients.
"Well, at least it's more than we did have. I just don't understand this at all. Their vitals are normal, other than a few cuts and bruises, there aren't any significant injuries, CAT scans, blood tests, toxicity levels, bodily functions, everything is perfectly normal for women of their age, body types and activity. They should not be unconscious. There is absolutely no reason for it."
Resisting the urge to grab one of their patients and shake her until her teeth rattled, her head fell off, or she finally woke up and told them what the hell was going on, Dr. Reyes returned to her search for her needle in the proverbial haystack.
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How long she stayed suspended there this time, Kitty didn't know. There was no way to mark the passing of time. No sunrise, no sunset, just an endless sameness.
Earlier, Belasco had gone, but now she could see he was returning as he emerged from one of the far passages, the monster that had once been Kurt Wagner following obediently behind the Demon Lord. Only a few moments after their arrival, S'ym appeared as well and Kitty's heart sank. There was only one reason Belasco would summon them both at once.
With meticulous precision, the magician drew a large pentagram within a circle directly in front of his throne on the floor of the large chamber. Kitty couldn't help a shudder of revulsion as she wondered what obscene spell he would cast this time.
He finished his work, standing back and looking over his handiwork, making sure all was as it should be. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he released Kitty from confinement, directly into the waiting arms of S'ym and Nightcrawler. Their touch repulsed her, but Belasco kept her too weak and powerless, with his spells and torture, for her to put up much of a fight.
The two monsters half carried, half dragged her to where Belasco stood, dumping her on the floor at his feet. Bending down, the Demon Lord cupped her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to him as he smiled, but the expression held no humor or warmth, only hate and malice.
"I give you one final chance, child. Join me, become my apprentice, fully and of your own free will. I can show you delights beyond imagining, power beyond comprehension. Together, we could be gods."
Though her body was weak, her spirit was not broken and Kitty's eyes blazed up at him, their slit pupils narrowed in hate.
"I would rather die."
Belasco seemed to consider her words, his glowing red eyes never leaving her own, then abruptly cast her away from him.
"So be it. S'ym, Nightcrawler, strip her, bind her. If she will not give herself willingly, then I shall send her screaming into the abyss."
What happened next, was more horrible than Kitty would ever have believed possible.
She had thought the beatings, the tortures, the living death of imprisonment in the crystal had been as bad as it could possibly get, that nothing could be any worse than what she had already endured.
Compared to what was to come, it was the gentlest of existence.
At their masters order, the demons stripped what little clothing she wore from her body, pawing and mauling her in the process, delighting in her frightened whimpers, the hot tears that fell like rain from her eyes as she began to contemplate the fate that awaited her.
Having had their fun with her for the moment, S'ym and Nightcrawler bound her inside the pentagram, arms, legs, and head tied to the five points. When they were done, Belasco spoke an ancient spell and red black fire rose up around her, following the lines of the casting circle and pentagram within.
Kitty expected it to burn, but instead, it was cold. As cold as the grave.
Even at fifteen, she was not ignorant of what was about to happen to her and her entire body trembled in a terror so deep that it seemed to want to suck her down. Tightly bound as she was, there was no escape for her and she began to pray for death.
Saying a few more words, Belasco ended the spell, turning to his waiting servants with a wave of his hand and a nod.
"Nightcrawler, you may begin."
Belasco turned his back to the pentagram's cardinal point, where her head was bound and began the chant as the thing that had been Kurt Wagner stepped into the circle and leered down at her, making her blood run cold.
Without a word, the man that had once been her best friend shed the few garments he wore and bent down to her, hissing between fanged teeth, yellow eyes glowing with the fever of madness.
"Don't worry, Leiblein. It will only hurt the first dozen times or so."
Even as he violated her horribly, Kitty refused to cry out, bearing the pain and humiliation, as her body was mauled and torn, in absolute silence, . But she had to close her eyes. It was beyond her bearing to look at a face she had once loved as her innocence was ruthlessly, brutally ripped from her, destroyed beyond all redemption. Death would have been a blessing.
It seemed to go on forever, as S'ym and Nightcrawler took turns with her, leaving her broken, bleeding, torn, her only wish and ending to the nightmare that her life had become. And, all the while, Belasco chanted and gestured and the red black fire burned.
Finally, the Demon Lord called enough, and the her tormentors left her, lying in her own blood, as their master worked toward the completion of his spell. Kitty didn't even know what the spell was supposed to do. In truth, she didn't care. She hoped it would kill her.
It was then that she opened her eyes and beheld a truly wondrous sight.
Floating in the air just above her poor, misused body, was a pure, white light. And within the light, a sword. It called to her and she tried to reach for it, but she was bound too tightly to move. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen and, somehow, she knew it was supposed to be hers. It was a part of her.
And Belasco was going to steal it, take from her yet another part of her being, her soul.
Kitty began to struggle violently against her bonds, ignoring the protests of her body as the sword within the light became more substantial, more real. She couldn't let him get it. It wasn't meant for him and he would corrupt it, use it to do terrible, unspeakable things.
When the sword was almost fully materialized, Belasco turned, reaching one vile, clawed hand out to touch it and Kitty screamed. She put everything she had left within her into that one act and it startled the Demon Lord enough that he took an involuntary step backwards, jerking his hand away in surprise.
He would never get another chance at the sword.
A crash of thunder shook the entire castle, and a bolt of lightning slammed into the ground inches from where Belasco stood.
"MONSTER!" Carried by a swift wind, Storm flew from one of the right hand passages, her face twisted into a mask of horror and fury at the sight that met her eyes. "VILE SPAWN OF HELL!"
Belasco actually blanched, calling to S'ym and Nightcrawler to protect him, jumping to the side just as another lightning bolt, like the hand of God, slammed into the spot where he'd been standing only an instant before, sending up a shower of dust and stone as it pulverized the floor of the chamber.
The white light, along with the sword it had contained, faded and Kitty blinked to clear her eyes, afraid what she was seeing was only another illusion, but Ororo was still there, lightening coruscating around her in a halo of light and power and rage. With only a thought, she sent bolts in the direction of S'ym and Kurt, knocking them back and away from Kitty.
And that's when Kitty saw him, but she told herself this had to be an illusion. He was dead, killed by Belasco's demons. Kurt had told her so.
But Kurt wasn't her friend anymore, he was a demon, corrupted by this horrible place and it's even more horrible master. And Kitty realized he had lied to her.
Then, he was bending over her, releasing her from her bonds, his deep blue eyes filled with tears, his handsome face filled with shock and grief at the realization of what had been done to her, and Kitty couldn't hold it in any longer. As soon as her arms were free, she wrapped them around him, sobbing out her pain and sorrow onto his broad shoulders.
Storm was providing cover for them, keeping Belasco and the demons at bay with wind and lightning, as Peter freed her from the last of her restraints and picked her up, cradling her gently in his arms as he quickly made his way toward the passage Storm had emerged from. As soon as they neared the regal white haired mutant, she landed lightly beside them, unfastening her cloak and wrapping it around Kitty's slight, battered form, laying her cool palm against the younger girls cheek as tears poured from her eyes.
"Oh, my Kitten..." The African woman's ice blue eyes were deep wells of sorrow as she looked at the girl she had sworn to protect with her life, and knew she had failed miserably. She turned to Peter, the sorrow once again replaced by a terrible, burning rage. "You know where to take her. I will be right behind you."
"Storm...what will you do?" The young Russian asked the question almost hesitantly, awed by the raw power emanating from this woman. He had never seen her so nearly out of control before.
"If I can, I will kill him. And his servants as well. For what they have done this day, they deserve every horror I can visit upon them."
Peter seemed to consider this for a moment, then his face hardened and he nodded. "Good."
They parted without another word as Storm went in pursuit of Belasco, S'ym and Kurt, and Peter carried Kitty down the long corridor and away from the horror she had endured.
Closing her eyes, Kitty allowed herself to finally relax, but the tears didn't stop. She wondered if they ever would. But she was safe now, with Peter, and Storm would be with them soon as well. It was over. They would find a way home and leave this cursed place.
They had gone some distance before Kitty opened her eyes again and spoke for the first time.
"Peter...?" He stopped around a bend in the corridor and looked down at her, but she couldn't meet his gaze. She'd failed him, and Ororo as well, by being weak, by letting Belasco take her, use her. And she was ashamed of what had happened to her because she hadn't been strong enough, smart enough to escape, or to not be caught in the first place. "I'm sorry..."
His arms tightened around her and he bowed his head, burying his face in her long hair, as he fought for his composure. He had failed her utterly, allowed her to fall into the hands of a monster who had done things to her that were beyond his worst nightmare, yet she was apologizing to him. For what, he had no idea.
"Why, Katya?" he managed to choke out. "It is I who should be sorry, though I can never hope for your forgiveness."
Surprised, she turned her face toward him, bringing them almost nose to nose. "But, Peter, I let him catch me. And, if I'd been watching Illyana more closely in the first place, we wouldn't even be here. It's all my fault." A thought suddenly struck her and her eyes went wide, almost panic stricken. "Oh, God...Peter...Illyana, what happened to her? Is she..."
But Peter shook his head. "No. She is not here. We managed to get her home, or at least what Storm believes was home. Illyana is safe."
Kitty relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I couldn't live with myself if something had happened to her."
It was almost more than Peter could bear, that she would be so concerned with his sister's safety after all she had been through herself. Again, he cursed himself for not sending Illyana back home to Russia, instead of trying to keep her in America with him. If he only had, none of this would have happened.
"Kayta, none of this is your fault. Your are not to blame for anything that has happened. I promised you that I would never let anything happen to you and I could not have failed more miserably."
Reaching up, she laid her palm against his tear stained cheeks, finally gathering up the courage to look him in the eyes. What she saw there wasn't the disgust and disappointment she'd half expected, but a deep, abiding sorrow, as well as a strong, pure love the likes of which she had never known.
"It's not your fault either, Peter." She sighed, realizing that they were all blaming themselves, but none of them were at fault. "All the blame belongs to Belasco and I hope he fries in hell."
Before either of them could speak again, Storm caught up to them, weaving in the air current that carried her aloft, nearly exhausted from her efforts. She landed beside them and they could feel the sense of urgency emanating from her.
"We must go. Quickly. Belasco and his minions managed to evade me and I am afraid they are hunting us, even as we speak."
Almost as if her words had conjured them, the Demon Lord and his demons appeared in the flash of light from a teleportation circle, only a little ways down the corridor from where they stood.
"Storm!" Peter thrust Kitty into the arms of her surrogate mother. "Take her and go. I will hold them off for as long as I can."
"Peter, no!" Kitty struggled in Ororo's hold, but she was too weak to break free.
"No, little brother. We will fight together."
But Peter shook his head vehemently. "No. You are exhausted and Katya requires attention. I will not allow Belasco to touch her again while I live."
Knowing he was right, Storm turned with Kitty in her arms, preparing to take flight once again, but Kitty's hand flew out and snagged Peter's arm, her eyes pleading with him.
"I love you, Peter. Don't leave me to go on alone."
The big Russian turned toward her, his heart breaking. Leaning down, he kissed her tenderly, gazing into her eyes and willing her to know the depth of his love for her. "I love you, Katya. I will do my best."
With that, he gave Storm a gentle push, urging her to flee, as he turned from flesh and blood to solid, organic steel and faced the onrushing enemy.
Taking his cue, Storm generated a wind, lifting them up and propelling them down the long corridor, hopefully to safety.
Craning her neck, Kitty kept her eyes glued to the battle, feeling her heart shatter as she realized the Peter was being overwhelmed by sheer numbers, though he was fighting with a ferocity she had never known he possessed.
When she saw S'ym coming from behind him, as Peter was occupied with battling a lesser demon, she tried to scream out a warning, but he never heard her. In the next instant, the huge, purple demon had him, picking him up and slamming him against the corridor wall, his feet dangling off the floor.
Despite his own massive size, Colossus was no match for the huge behemoth in sheer, raw power. Kitty knew what was coming an instant before it happened, wanted to look away, knowing it was an image that would haunt her, waking and sleeping, for the rest of her life, however long or short that might be. But, in the end, she couldn't .
When Belasco's demon rammed his huge fist through Peter's chest, caving it in and killing the young man instantly, Kitty felt something in her mind snap. The last thing she heard was the sound of her own hysterical scream echoing off the corridor walls.
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Monitors were screaming out in warning all over the room, but neither Hank nor Ceclia had time to care.
One minute everything was fine, just as it had been for the last week. Other than being in a state of unconsciousness bordering on a coma, their two patients were disgustingly healthy and normal. They still couldn't find a thing to explain their current condition and nothing they had tried seemed to make a difference. Not even the use of Shi'ar technology.
They were at the end of their rope, with no hope in sight. The two doctors had begun to believe that the young women would remain in an permanent, inexplicable, vegetative state. It was extremely disheartening for them, both as friends and teammates of the two women in question.
The next moment, however, everything suddenly and inexplicably went straight to hell at top speed, in a flaming, screaming hand basket.
Elisabeth Braddock sprang bolt upright in bed, screaming at a pitch and volume that set every hair on Hank's body on end. She was pressing her hands against her ears, eyes screwed tightly shut as blood poured from her nose. And, only a second later, it began flowing from her ears as well.
A few feet away, Katherine Pryde went into sudden, massive, violent convulsions that twisted and contorted her body, lifting her nearly from the bed as her muscles knotted and pulled, her face frozen into a rictus of agony.
Both women's vital signs spiked through the roof, blood pressure, brain wave activity, heart rate, everything, and the two physicians didn't know which they should worry about more at this point, stroke, heart attack, or brain damage.
They barely even noticed when the rest of the household came barreling through the medlab doors, having heard the cacophony of alarms and human screams emanating from within. Cecelia and Henry were too busy trying to save the lives of two of their friends to know, or care, about spectators or what this horrific scene might look like to non-medical personnel. It didn't look much better to the medically trained.
Hank worked on Psylocke, at first trying to communicate with the woman and, when that proved futile, administering a cocktail of various drugs into her IV in an effort to both calm her and reduce her dangerously elevated blood pressure and heart rate. If something didn't kick in soon, either the young woman's heart or a major blood vessel was going to blow. He could not, would not allow that.
Meanwhile, Cecelia stood over Shadowcat, trying to simultaneously wedge a bite guard between her teeth to keep her from biting her tongue off, and administer medications through her IV to combat not only her elevated blood pressure and heart rate, but to stop the ongoing gran mal seizure as well. If they didn't get it stopped soon, there would be significant danger of brain damage.
"Damn it, Hank!" Cecelia called out to her colleague, rushing to the drug cabinet for yet another medication. "Nothing's working. I can't give her much more without risking overdosing her and killing her outright. What the hell happened?!"
"I don't know, but I'm not having any better luck with Betsy. Her blood pressure is off the scale. If I don't get it down, and quickly, she's going to have a massive stroke."
Over to one side, the X-Men stood huddled together, frozen in shock and horror, unable to believe what they were seeing and hearing. Rogue and Ororo were in tears as they watched the teams two physicians move at frenzied, lightning speed, desperately trying to save their friends.
Rogue was clinging tightly to Peter's hand, clamping down on his fingers almost hard enough to break them in her agitation, but the big, Russian man never even noticed. His eyes were glued to the table where Kitty lay, still convulsing violently as Dr. Reyes cursed, and yelled, and pushed herself to the breaking point trying to stop the chain of events that seemed to be literally tearing the young woman apart from the inside out.
All Peter could think, the only thing running through his mind, over and over again, was that he couldn't lose her. Not like this. Not when the last words they'd really spoken to one another had been in anger.
Dear God, please, not like this.
Neal Shaara was in a similar state. The scene before him seemed surreal. For a week, he'd spent every spare moment at Betsy's bedside, offering up prayers to every deity he knew for her to wake up, say something, come back to him. What he was seeing now was like a twisted, nightmarish answer to those prayers.
Logan and Kurt stood, one on each side of Ororo, who had her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she wept. Each man looked on in helpless horror as the two women they considered family continued to fight for their very lives only a few feet away. And this was one fight they couldn't join in on. Putting one arm around Ororo, Logan dropped his head and did something he'd done no more than a handful of times in his entire life. He prayed. Kurt Wagner pulled out his rosary, hit his knees, and did the same.
Bishop, Sage, and Iceman, like their team mates, could only watch helplessly as Hank and Cecelia worked tirelessly over their two patients, never giving up, never willing to even consider any other outcome other than the one they wanted. How, they wondered, could something like this happen so quickly, so unexpectedly, to two perfectly healthy women. The X-Men fought, and survived, unwinnable battles nearly every day, against unbeatable odds, and yet managed to come out the other side victorious. It was almost blasphemous that two such warriors could be struck down in this manner.
As abruptly as she had begun, Betsy's screaming came to a halt, her vital signs almost instantly returning to normal as she let her hands fall from her ears and dropped bonelessly back onto the bed. She was obviously weak, blood still trickling from her nose and ears, but just as obviously conscious and alert as she blinked up at Hank with a stunned, confused expression on her face.
The huge, blue, furry man had time to allow himself a small smile of relief, before Cecelia was screaming for him from beside the other bed.
Just as suddenly, Kitty's convulsions stopped, but her vital signs did not stabilize, as Betsy's had. Instead, they dropped through the floor, the monitors she was hooked to emitting the bone chilling, monotone beep that signaled the patients bodily functions had ceased.
"Flatline!" Cecelia screamed in Hank's direction. "Henry, get the paddles! Now! HURRY! I"M LOSING HER!"
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This time, the darkness was more literal than figurative, though, strangely enough, Kitty could see perfectly well. There just wasn't anything there. As far as the eye could see, there was only a prevailing darkness.
Then, in the perpetual night, there was a flicker of light, and, like a movie or a sequence of pictures in a book, images flashed before her eyes.
It was her, but not her. Just as the girl who'd watched as Peter sacrificed his life for her had been Kitty. But not Kitty. At least, not the Kitty that she was now.
Apparently, this was the rest of that Kitty's life. Only, this time, she wasn't experiencing it firsthand, but as a series of images and sounds. Thank God. She was still trembling like a leaf from her last experience.
She could still feel the demons' vile hands on her, feel the pain and agony they purposely inflicted as they violated her. It has been more horrible than anything thing she could have possibly imagined. Her stomach roiled in protest at the memories.
Kitty watched attentively as Storm brought the distraught girl to an oasis, put her in a soft bed, tended her wounds until her body had healed. But her soul was still a raw, open wound, and the child ran away, into the desert. Hoping to die. Wanting to escape her pain and rejoin Peter.
But she hadn't died. She'd been far too strong. That Kitty, or Cat, as she called herself now, had lived. She'd learned to fight, and win, and survive, even as she'd become hard, and bitter, and haunted. Each night, she dreamed of the boy she'd loved, the life she'd once lived, and gloried in, of all she'd left behind and would never have again.
She'd grown up there, in that harsh, unforgiving land and she'd vowed that, someday, Belasco would pay for what he'd taken from her.
Eventually, Cat had once again sought out the only friend she had left, Ororo, who had grown old, losing her elemental control over the weather, even as she gained the powers of the dark arts. They had renewed their friendship, had found a kind of tenuous peace in one another's company.
Then, one day, they had come. As soon as she saw them, Kitty knew she was looking at herself, her real self, and her team, the day that Belasco had pulled Illyana and, by extension, all of them into Limbo.
Cat had watched from the shadows as events for these X-Men unfolded much differently. She had seen herself, still young, still innocent, still full of life, as that Kitty encountered what remained of Cat's life. And she'd seen Peter, exactly the way she remembered him to be, and the small part of her heart that was left to her shattered and bled.
She'd run away then, back to the desert to lick her wounds, to wait for the interlopers, the reminders of what a ruin she'd become, to go back where they'd come from.
And they had. This team of X-Men had found their way home. It was their Illyana who was left behind.
At first, Cat had wanted to kill the child, blaming her for everything that had befallen her and her friends in this hellish dimension, but Storm had refused, wanting instead to teach the child the ways of Magik.
But Cat knew that would only be playing into Belasco's hands, so she took the child herself, taught her to fight, made her hard, tough. Made her into the image of herself. And she had also loved her, in the same way that she had loved the little girl that was her Illyana, Peter's Illyana.
So, she had tried to save her, had taken her to the one place where there was a chance of sending her home. Using her ability to phase, she had taken the child between and Kitty heard her other self speak some of the last human words she would ever utter.
"I could never do it on may own." she told Illyana, holding tightly to the child's hand as they moved through the swirling light that was the wall between dimensions. "I was too afraid of what I'd find...the world I left, whose X-Men are dead and damned in Limbo...or, worse, your world, an alternate earth where they're alive and unchanged. Where I'd have to face my younger, still innocent self. And...Peter...whom I loved more than my life." Cat stopped talking then and, when she finally continued, her voice was very small, and very lost, like the child she had once been. "And who gave his life to save me."
Kitty felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, but made no move to wipe them away. She thought she knew what was coming next. If she were right, there would only be more tears to mix with these.
In the end, they did not escape, were instead captured by Belasco, who stripped away the rest of Cat's free will and humanity, making her his servant in Nightcrawler's stead. He'd then taken Illyana and taught her the black arts, made the three bloodstones in the Amulet from her innocent soul, determined to corrupt her in his own image.
But, before he could complete his task, Storm had come to rescue her. The battle raged, but in the end, Illyana had been forced to kill not only Storm, but Cat as well.
It was those deaths, however, that had given Illyana the strength and determination she needed to forge the Soulsword, to ultimately defeat Belasco, and return to her own dimension, albeit several years older than when she left.
Of course, Kitty already knew what had happened after that.
As the last images faded, another light took their place, growing brighter and brighter until Kitty could make out the form of the Soulsword at it's center.
It hung there for a moment, as Kitty pondered everything she had seen, everything she had learned. In due time, it spoke to her.
Now, do you understand?
No. I don't understand. Are you saying that you are Cat's Soulsword, the one that was made from her as Belasco cast his spell?
No. I was made from no one. I am.
But, I saw Illyana make hers, and I saw the one that was made from Cat.
I cannot be made, was not made. Only called. They, both of them, called me forth. You cannot make that which has always been.
I'm sorry. I still don't get it, and I really don't understand why you're torturing me, making me live through horrors that aren't even my own. Don't I have enough pain and suffering in my own life, without borrowing someone else's?
Then you truly do not understand. Perhaps, you never will. But I hope that you do. Much depends upon it. I am not your enemy. We belong together.
I won't, I can't, believe that. I saw what you did to Illyana. I've experienced what you will do to me, if I allow it. You're evil. To accept you is to lose my soul.
Good or evil is not within the called, only within the caller. That which is unwilling cannot truly be corrupted.
So it's my, or Illyana's, fault you're evil??
In lieu of an answer, however, the sword began to fade.
You must return. I have risked much to show you this and I fear I have kept you too long. Time runs short.
It was the second time the voice had uttered that cryptic phrase, and Kitty wondered just what time was running short for. She gave a mental shrug. It was probably nothing, just another trick to try to get her to accept the sword.
Only, somehow, she didn't really believe that.
As the light faded and a thick darkness closed in around her, a very strange thing happened. In her minds eye, Kitty saw three familiar objects. A glowing sword, a bird of fire, and a leather book, it's cover decorated with words of Latin, written in a smooth flowing script.
And the voice of the sword returned again, only for a moment, very faint and far away.
There is Justice. There is Power. There is Knowledge. And the Keeper holds the Key.
Before she could ponder the possible significance of these three things, of the strange, puzzling words, the darkness engulfed her and she knew no more.
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A/N: Parts of Cat's dialogue, while she is talking to Illyana, comes from the Magik Limited Series from 1984.
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