A/N ~ Ten reviews for one chapter? Thank you very much, all of you. Hope you like this one as much. Drop a line and let me know what you think. Just remember; what is fragmented now, must become whole again later.
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Fifteenth Fragment ~ Wake While Angels Sleep Eternal
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The bus juddered and shuffled, and those on board who weren't already asleep clung onto their respective seats as the road suddenly became bumpy and broken. Evidently the fighting not far from the airfield had reached new proportions, and left the manmade landscape scarred and beaten in its wake.
Mystique was one such passenger, though she couldn't turn her head enough to see if any others apart from herself and the ever-continuing Logan were awake. Despite having slept little, the gruff mutant seemed tireless. He didn't talk much though, and she didn't instigate conversation.
By her side, Daisy had fallen into a fitful sleep after much fidgeting and claiming she just *had* to go upstairs one more time. She'd eventually settled down with her face making waffle-marks in the shapeshifter's side, and now slumbered, sucking her thumb and groping blindly at her 'mother' for comfort.
Robyn had decided to travel with Rogue on the other side of the bus, and the two of them sat curled up in each other's arms across from Kitty and Lance. Mystique didn't begrudge her daughters their company. In truth, it felt right somehow that Rogue should be able to spend time with someone who hadn't known her before; who didn't notice the strange little ticks she'd picked up ever since returning to them from that hellish place...
Little things, really. Things perhaps only a mother would know - although she'd noticed Pietro looking strangely at his old teammate more than once. The way she was constantly looking over her shoulder, as if waiting for something, or someone to pounce on her. The way she shivered when there wasn't any breeze or hint of the cold. The way she rubbed at her neck, as if checking there was nothing metallic pressed against her skin...
Rogue would probably never be quite the same again. You couldn't just go through something as horrific as a mutant research lab and come out the other side smelling of roses. It was good that she'd regained as much of her humanity as she had already, considering it'd been so little time since Audrey was banished and the mutant girl reawakened the memories she'd suppressed for so long. She had her newly-discovered brother to thank for that small miracle.
Mystique gazed down at her grown son. She could still remember holding him that fateful night when he tumbled from her grasp and over the waterfall. She'd thought he was lost to her then, and again when the virus came and the Xavier Institute was slaughtered. And now, here he was, returned to her at last.
She reached out and made to stroke the fur on his temple. She wanted to make sure he was real, and not just the product of her deranged imagination.
Todd had gone quiet since her earlier conversation with Logan. Perhaps he was satisfied for the time being that she was making the effort to renew his chance at life.
Kurt twitched as her fingers came close, and she paused. His face contorted into an expression akin to fear, and he started to mutter in quick, breathless German at a nightmare.
Mystique hadn't spent countless years in Germany without picking up the language, but as she listened to her son's babbling she wished she hadn't. He sounded scared, and it troubled her that she could do nothing but shush him softly against his fears.
"[No,]" he whispered, "[Stay back. I'm sorry for what happened, I really am. Please, just leave me alone...]"
"Hush," she murmured, bending her head and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Hush."
Kurt twisted until his sleeping face stared blankly up at hers, lids closed. "[I didn't mean for it to happen,]" he whispered desperately. "[Please try to understand. It was Winzeldorf all over again. I-I-I wanted to stay, but I couldn't. I *didn't* leave you to die. Please, I...]" He trailed off into quiet sobbing.
Mystique's brow crinkled in dismay. Her poor baby. He had his own demons to contend with this night. "Hush, liebling," she soothed, falling back into old habits and brushing his cheek. "[I'm here.]"
"Mama?" He was still asleep, but she answered anyway.
"Ja, liebling. Ja."
*******************
Pietro watched her from the back of the bus through narrowed eyes. Mystique's actions, though noble enough in sentiment, didn't ring true with him somehow. Despite his little tête-à-tête with Kurt before leaving, the idea of allowing the tricky shapeshifter to stay still left a nasty taste in his mouth.
Kurt was a fool where family was concerned; this much Pietro had learned of late. Kurt was so bent on retrieving his 'kin' that he was blind to what they were really like. Some people would say the elf saw only the good in people. Pietro chose to think he only ignored the bad.
It would take a lot more than some telling-off from someone barely the same age to deter Pietro's hatred. His feelings against Mystique ran far deeper than merely Todd's death. The fact that she'd abandoned them in his eyes had made her his nightmare for months after the break-up of the Brotherhood.
Pietro had lost many things in his life; had lost many people. When he came to Bayville he'd been promised a new start. A place where he'd never have to worry about being alone again, about being abandoned.
When Mystique left and didn't come back he'd felt worse than alone, he'd felt betrayed. She was his only link to his father, and with her, so went Magneto.
Magneto.
Was he still alive?
Who knew? If the great Charles Xavier could be killed off, then why not the Master of Metal? He wasn't invulnerable, nor immortal. He was just a man.
Had been just a man.
Pietro watched Mystique bend and kiss Kurt's face once more, and his eyes became bleak slits. Mystique would never worm her way back into his heart. He'd learned from Kurt's brusqueness beside the bus not to voice his abhorrence anymore, but she'd never win him back to her side.
Never.
The speedster blinked as he contemplated Kurt's words. _Four years ago *you* were a self-centred prick who couldn't hang around to help his friend. _
They'd stung.
Of course they had. Kurt had taken Pietro's greatest failing and spoken about it like a teacher to a naughty child. It was humiliating, but somehow... it also made Pietro feel desperately ashamed of himself on some basic level.
He shouldn't have tried to turn Robyn and Daisy - that much he now realised. Kurt was fiercely protective of his 'little sister', and had adopted Daisy into a similar, if not quite so potent mould as Robyn's status.
_Huh, there goes the 'family' schtick again. Boy, is Fuzzy a sucker for that crap._
Pietro had no family anymore, save for the contents of this bus, and they hardly counted. He didn't care. Except maybe for Robyn. Robyn didn't judge him, or know what he'd done. She was too young, too innocent. Even Daisy knew too much, could look at him with fear or knowledge and wondering at what he'd done in life to survive. A child, made to grow up so damn fast it was almost obscene...
He blinked as he realised that it was perhaps not so much what was said, but who'd said it that had hurt him. Kurt had extended the hand of friendship, misshapen as it was, and offered Pietro a last glimmer of hope in a wasteland he'd thought held none. To hear the elf-boy sound so... angry with him. It'd hurt. Maybe more than he cared to realise. Kurt was his friend. His first true friend since Todd died.
But he wouldn't forgive Mystique for him. That was asking too much.
Too much entirely.
"Hush," she whispered inaudibly, lulling her son into a happier slumber. "Hush, Kurti."
Pietro closed his ears and blocked out the sound of her voice. He couldn't forgive her. Not now. Not ever.
_Sorry, Kurt. Not even for you._
*******************
_Welcome to Hershey_, a battered green sign proclaimed to the world.
Mystique had travelled much in her day, and had a feeling she would be seeing many familiar places as the stolen bus rattled westward. The last time she'd passed this way, the smell of chocolate was so heavy in the air that one gained weight just by breathing [1]. Now, the only aroma she could detect was the persistent odour of gasoline.
In her lap, Kurt groaned and twitched his nose. Whether this was in reaction to a real scent or an imagined one, she could only wonder.
_Harrisburg_, the next sign proudly declared. _Capital of Pennsylvania. Pop. 50,900._
Logan was certainly driving fast. Idly, Mystique tried to calculate the gas mileage of a double-decker bus, and how far their fuel stores might get them.
They passed another sign, which had apparently been vandalised at some point, and now read merely, _Pitts_.
Pietro had finally fallen asleep, his eyes no longer burning into the back of her neck, but Rogue was now awake. As mother and daughter lay with furry heads in their laps, they spoke quietly, tentatively. After all, how much did they really know about each other anymore?
"Maybe I should've asked this back in Philly," Rogue said logically, "but what are we all doin' on this bus? I mean, really."
"Travelling," Mystique replied simply. Before Rogue could make a sarcastic comeback, she continued, "To find the Goddess. That's the truth, honestly. He," she nodded to Alvin, awake but absorbed in some thick text, "is one of her followers. He seems to have prophecies for all of us," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"What's mine?" Rogue asked curiously, the tone of her voice telling Mystique that she still was not quite able to accept the idea of going Goddess hunting.
Mystique leaned forward just enough to tap Alvin on the shoulder. Closing the book on his finger, he turned to face her. "Yes, Blessed One?"
"Alvin, do you have a prophecy for Rogue?"
The disciple's eyes slid to the left as he thought. "Yes," he said after a moment. "Girl of fire and ice walks narrow path, seeks self in chaos, touches hearts with fear."
"Fire and ice," Rogue repeated. "I'm the girl of fire and ice?" She screwed up her face in thought.
"Why?" Mystique's brow furrowed. "Do you know what it means?"
Rogue sighed and closed her eyes. "Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favour fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction, ice is also great and would suffice." She opened her eyes and fixed her mother with a penetrating gaze. "Robert Frost."
Alvin paged frantically through his book. "You are destined to be linked to the apocalypse?" he said, as his eyes scanned the pages. "Mayhap... even the cause of it? Not good. Definitely not good..."
*******************
Ariel woke to spectators, who jumped back up a step. He surfaced and blinked at them. "Can I help you?"
"See? I tole' you he weren't dead."
"But he was drownded," said the youngest of the small batch of kids.
"You got gold all over," said the little girl next to her.
Ariel blushed as he left the water and reached for his pants. "I'm fairly sure you shouldn't be looking at naked boys..."
"Why not? I gots five brothers."
Ariel sighed. "Good for you." He pulled on his shirt. "Why are you here?"
"We wanted t' go swimmin' an' we see'd your drownded body."
"I wanned ta poke y' with a stick," said the redhead. He had freckles dotted all over his grinning face, and didn't seem in the least repentant.
"You was breathin' through yer neck," said the girl.
Ariel nodded. "I know, I have gills."
"COOL!"
"You kin sleep in our swimmin' hole anytime!"
"Jest don't pee in it none."
Ariel laughed. "Even if I did, I could draw those impurities out. You've seen me work, haven't you?"
"Work?"
Ariel twiddled a finger and made a dragon out of water. "I control water. It's my mutant power."
"Whoah."
"Neat."
"C'n I pet it?" asked the youngest shyly.
Ariel chuckled. "Enjoy. You can even swim. Be careful, though. This is living water. It's very rare,
these days."
Her hand paused halfway to the dragon. "Livin' water?"
"This basement is an ecosystem." Ariel pointed out the elements. "See? Growing weed puts oxygen in the water. Fish eat the weed. Frogs live here, and some insects, too. Most of them go to hide when you swim."
"Real frogs?"
"Yes," said Ariel. "I was told they were dead. Extinct. But I felt them as I slept."
The redhead screwed up his face. "What's extinct?"
"Extinct means all gone." Ariel checked his vest pockets absently. "No more like it, ever."
"Is that bad?" the young girl asked with genuine concern.
"Yup." Satisfied that all his possessions were still there, Ariel pulled the makeshift garment over his head. "If the frogs are gone, they're not eating the flies. Then the mosquitoes go and have lots of little mosquito babies and they take over the world and Eat Little Girls!" As he uttered this prophecy of doom, the mutant boy rose and reached half-curled fingers towards the girl.
With an "eep", she shrank back against her sister.
"Well, maybe not that bad." Ariel dropped his arms to his sides. "But be careful anyway, all right?"
They nodded fervently. Ariel winked, and walked out of the building, emerging into the light of a new day.
*******************
"Please, Goddess... eat?"
Her appetite was shot, but they offered her the best of their foods anyway. "What is it?"
"Pork and chicken. And vegetables, of course."
Ororo nodded. To this day, she refused to eat cats or dogs. She knew others would, since they were desperate, and did not forbid the consumption of that flesh. Still, others decreed the meat unclean since she, the Goddess, refused to touch it, and kept with her taboo.
She ate a spoonful of the offering. It was warm and salty, and she knew she should eat as much as she could stomach. "Any news?"
"There was a Blessed One auctioned again," said her devotee. "A boy with golden skin who could move water. Our Devoted tried to win him, but couldn't offer more than two apple trees. He was sold to another."
"We will win in time," Ororo soothed. "Soon, we'll have enough to win, and free them. What of my missionaries? Have any returned?"
"None, yet. Communication is... unreliable. We *have* had some carts returned - empty - by the raiders."
Ororo took another spoonful. "You're not telling me all your news."
"One was written on. The message said, 'thanks for the food'. We don't know if they..."
"Forgive them," Ororo whispered. "They won't accept our help, and they insist on taking what they need wherever they can find it. Humans are meat, too."
Her devotee kowtowed. "I'm humbled by the Goddess' wisdom."
"Please don't do that. We need all the sense we have. Don't knock yours out on my behalf?"
"As you will, Goddess."
As hard as she tried, she could not stop them calling her that. She ate more soup. "Do you have good news?"
"Yes! Sara is with child. Seer says that there's a high chance it will be Blessed. He can't tell the gender, as yet."
"And Lynne?"
"No change, thanks be. She's confined to bed, but her child has shown no more signs of coming early."
"Keep feeding her the herbs as often as you can, and give her a little alcohol if she has the pains before her time..." Ororo trailed off. She concentrated on the weather. "Yes..." she whispered. "Soon."
"Goddess?"
"My microclimate," she breathed. "It's getting stronger. I can finally rest, soon. Very soon. Just a few more days."
"Then eat, Goddess? Please? You need to be strong yourself. Your people need you."
Yes. She could eat a little more. She could eat until her stomach threatened to rebel. "Yes," she said. "I do need my strength."
*******************
Hours passed uneventfully, and the bus soon reached the edge of Pennsylvania. They passed a worn and battered sign, on which only the word _Ohio_ could be made out. However, that was not what grabbed their attention.
A little way from the sign was a huge, crude crucifix composed of roughly hewn beams. Tied to it with rotted rope was a body, features mostly decayed away except for two, splendid wings - which might once have been white, except mould, dust, and blood had discoloured them. Around the neck hung a notice scrawled on splintered wood.
_Mutie Scum DIE_
Kurt gawked openly at it through the window, awed and dismayed by the naked hatred that had gone into making such a disgusting article. It was enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs, if not from disgust than from fear.
A little voice at his elbow asked in a hushed, almost reverent tone, "Is that an angel?"
Kurt looked down at Robyn's curious, cat-like face. He was struck with the urge to push her away, to hide the terrible sight from her eyes and keep her innocent a little longer. Then he remembered that she had seen worse than this on the streets of Bayville, and that keeping her innocent would probably do more harm than good.
"Nein liebling," he replied softly. "Only a man."
"How long's he been there, d'ya think?" asked Rogue, her voice, like the others, in a hushed whisper, as if fearing to disturb the dead.
"Over seventy days, I think," Pietro replied, his own voice loud, casual, as though passing on the time of day. Dead bodies were nothing new to him. "Biology textbook once told me that you can tell, because the skin goes kinda - "
"That's enough, thank you," interjected Kurt, "I don't want to know."
They stood in silence for a while.
Eventually, Lance spoke up. "I... I've heard of Ohio - on the road, I mean. They say that the plague didn't hit quite so hard here, there's still a large population of humans. Combatively speaking, of course."
"Isn't that good?" Rogue asked.
"Not when every single one of them is after mutant blood."
"The gangs around here... are very powerful," Alvin murmured thoughtfully. "My people try to avoid this place when we can. Mutant sympathisers are killed outright. Mutants... are rarely so fortunate."
Kurt waited a second, and then prised himself up, only wincing the tiniest bit when his injured rear brushed the seat. He skittered to the front of the bus and clung onto the back of Logan's chair to save himself from falling over as they bumped and bustled their way along the broken road.
Outside, the sky was growing ever so slightly lighter, stars being absorbed into a carpet of dull grey. Kurt glanced up at it out of habit, and without bothering to look at a watch he estimated the time to be about 4 a.m. It was a quirk of his mutation that he never really needed to look at a timepiece to know around about what time it was. Nothing as specific as a clairvoyant, mind, but it was enough. You couldn't exactly buy watch batteries from stores anymore.
"Herr Logan, is there any way we can go around this place instead of through it?"
Logan gave a short, humourless laugh. "With our gas supply? Think again, Elf. If we wanna reach 'Ro on what we got, then a straight line's our best bet."
Kurt chewed his lower lip. "But the gangs..."
"We'll just hafta be extra careful. Hey, God Boy!"
"My name is Alvin, Blessed One."
He shrugged. "Whatever. You got any more info on these gangs? Like, whether they come out in daylight?"
Alvin retrieved another book from his cart and started flicking through it. "There is an account written by one of our order not so long ago who ventured hence and returned to us full of stories... Ah, here it is."
All turned to look at the zealot.
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud. "From the account of Gerrad Longman. 'I have travelled far and wide, yet never have I come across such blatant savagery as is imbued upon these people. They know not compassion, nor fear, and the only words that grace their lips are filled with malice, hate, and the desire to do harm. Their hands are made, it seems, only for the cruel pleasure of torture, and their tongues merely for taunting their prey, of which anything can become a part. They happened upon me when the sun rose to its zenith, ransacking my cart and chasing me from their land with threats ringing in my ears. Goddess take pity on any who stray into this land of the wicked, for they seem not to sleep, eat or perform any other basic human task other than kill what they do not recognise, or mutilate what they do not care for. They are many, and widespread, and it was pure luck from our Goddess that I have returned this day to relate my tale to all. Stave off the land of the Clawhands and Steelfeet, lest ye be rent to shreds by their wrathful woe.'"
Everyone gaped as he finished. That answered that question, then.
Rogue swallowed. "What're the 'Clawhands' and 'Steelfeet'?"
Alvin reverentially closed the tome and sighed. "Names of the gangs these wicked people have joined, I fear. I implore you, Blessed One Logan. Turn away from this place of evil. We shall find another way."
"There *is* no other way," Logan replied. His voice was harsh, his tone grim. "If we skirt around then we're done for anyway. No way we'll reach 'Ro in time, before she..." he trailed off, leaving the thought hanging in the air. He didn't need to say it, for they all knew what he meant, and saw the sense behind his words, even if they didn't like or agree with it.
Before she died.
Alvin had said Ororo was dying. They needed to reach her before it was too late.
Mystique glanced down as a small hand took hers. Daisy was cuddled up to her side, one half of her face red and puckered where she'd pressed too hard. Her scaly little fingers with intertwined with the shapeshifter's, and she looked up with something akin to fear in her pale eyes.
Mystique's expression hardened, and she raised her head. "We don't stop," she said bluntly. "No resting off the bus today. If we keep going during the daylight hours then we might just make it through without meeting any of these mutant hunters. We can rest and refuel tonight, someplace quieter. Safer."
Kurt frowned. "But Herr Logan needs to rest - "
"I'm fine, Elf," Logan cut him off without taking his eyes from the road ahead. "I'll be even better once we're outta this place and left it far behind us. Raven's right. If we keep going and don't stop then we'll be better off all round. I can rest later. Healing factor, remember?"
Kurt blinked. Had he just called Mystique by her real name? *Nobody* did that. Not even herself.
"All right, then," he agreed, albeit with a precursory glance at everybody else first to make sure. "We keep going, and we don't stop until we're through this godforsaken place."
Logan only nodded, but he waited until Kurt had returned to his seat before pressing the accelerator that little bit harder.
After all, a bus was a very big, very noisy target.
*******************
"Wake up."
_Aw, c'mon Aunt May, just five more minutes?_
Rough hands grabbed him then, and he jolted awake. He felt wet and cold, and when he tried to take a breath, he could only cough and choke. There was something in his mouth. Something thick and sticky, and it clogged his throat like molasses.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
He was finally able to draw breath, and he leaned against the wall for support before opening his eyes.
What he saw before him astounded him. He was in a cubic room with metal walls, ceiling, and floors. Everything seemed to shine like it was newly polished, but a second look revealed patches of rust and signs of ageing, even neglect. To his sides were tubes filled with a green liquid, a few of which were empty, much like the one behind him.
Yet what drew his attention was the tall, imposing man standing in front of him. The owner of the voice he had heard.
The man wore red metallic armour - the kind that would have made him laugh had he not seen the thing's he'd seen - but had the face of a dignified old man. His white hair hung long about his shoulders, and piercing eyes did not leave him for a moment.
"Where... where am I?"
"You are safe now, Peter. I rescued you from the New York gangs who would kill you for what you are. You are on Asteroid M, a sanctuary in space for those who have no further use for Earth."
_Well, that explains everything,_ he thought, something green and sticky dribbling off his fingers. "And who are you?"
"I am Magneto," the man said with a tone of finality. "Your wounds have healed well, Peter. I believe it is time for you to meet your new family." There was an air of irrevocability to his voice, like objection or protest were out of the question.
He gestured for him to follow to the next room, and before Peter could move, he found himself trailing the man. After a panicked moment he realised that, somehow, the floor was moving underneath him. A metal runway of sorts, almost like a conveyer belt.
A portal opened before them, and the two entered a lavishly furnished room, complete with a fireplace and couches. It was a complete antithesis to the room they had just left.
"Good morning, children," the man began. "Come meet the newest addition to our family. Peter."
He stepped to the left, allowing Peter to see the inhabitants of the room and the inhabitants to see him.
On the left side, as far from the fireplace as possible, sat three identical boys - triplets. They raised their heads as one and spoke. "Hello, Peter."
A girl was sitting on the floor amidst a pile of paper. A faint halo of light surrounded her, and she smiled a dazzling smile. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, a trail of light spelled, "Hello, Peter," in the air around her.
Last, a girl uncurled herself from beside the fire and stretched lazily. Peter noticed, as most boys would, that she was not wearing much clothing, and kept his attention focused on her face. She looked up at him, not bothering to rise above a kneeling position. "Why, hello Peter." Her voice contained the hint of a lilting Scottish brogue, but Peter was more distracted by the spiked collar around her neck, replete with metal dog tags.
Magneto pointed to each in turn. "They are Multiple. He was born with the strange mutation to split his body into many. When I found him, the gangs had beaten him so much there were in excess of one hundred of him. I rescued all that I could, and one by one, they reabsorbed into one another. All except these three."
The boys did not react; they merely glanced at one another for a moment, and then returned their attention to studying Peter. They could not have been above sixteen, if that.
Magneto pointed to the next one. "This is Dazzler. She has the powerful ability to turn sound into light and energy. However, she used too much energy fighting off a mob one time, and now any sound she produces is automatically turned into light."
She just shrugged and nodded, her smile warm and friendly as sunbeams.
"And finally," the strange old man said, "this is Wolfsbane. She can turn into a wolf, a girl, or anywhere in between." He did not say more, and the girl only smiled widely, displaying a row of dangerous looking teeth. All of them pointed. All of them sharp.
"So where do I fit in with all this?" Peter asked rather bemusedly. What had happened? Why couldn't he *remember* anything?
"You will complete my first true team. When the time comes, you four will finish the work I have begun. You will rescue the mutant race from Earth, and we will leave it to the savages." Magneto paused to compose himself. "Dazzler, please show Peter to his room so that he may get cleaned up. Explain to him anything he needs to know. We will start training tonight, after dinner."
Dazzler stood up, leaving the scattered papers behind her, and snapped her fingers. Instead of a sound, a flash of light appeared. It slowly transformed into an arrow, and shot down a hallway. Peter was mesmerised despite himself, and began to follow her like this was not all part of some strange, freakish nightmare no pinching would awaken him from.
Suddenly, he was stopped once more by Magneto's voice.
"Oh, and Peter? Now that you are a part of our family, you will need a new name. We do not use Earth names on Asteroid M."
"Wha-?" Earth names? Asteroid M? Had he been eating that really strong cheese before bed, again?
"No longer will you be Peter Parker," Magneto said imperially, like a king knighting someone. "Now, you are the Spider-Man."
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] It's true!
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Fifteenth Fragment ~ Wake While Angels Sleep Eternal
*******************
The bus juddered and shuffled, and those on board who weren't already asleep clung onto their respective seats as the road suddenly became bumpy and broken. Evidently the fighting not far from the airfield had reached new proportions, and left the manmade landscape scarred and beaten in its wake.
Mystique was one such passenger, though she couldn't turn her head enough to see if any others apart from herself and the ever-continuing Logan were awake. Despite having slept little, the gruff mutant seemed tireless. He didn't talk much though, and she didn't instigate conversation.
By her side, Daisy had fallen into a fitful sleep after much fidgeting and claiming she just *had* to go upstairs one more time. She'd eventually settled down with her face making waffle-marks in the shapeshifter's side, and now slumbered, sucking her thumb and groping blindly at her 'mother' for comfort.
Robyn had decided to travel with Rogue on the other side of the bus, and the two of them sat curled up in each other's arms across from Kitty and Lance. Mystique didn't begrudge her daughters their company. In truth, it felt right somehow that Rogue should be able to spend time with someone who hadn't known her before; who didn't notice the strange little ticks she'd picked up ever since returning to them from that hellish place...
Little things, really. Things perhaps only a mother would know - although she'd noticed Pietro looking strangely at his old teammate more than once. The way she was constantly looking over her shoulder, as if waiting for something, or someone to pounce on her. The way she shivered when there wasn't any breeze or hint of the cold. The way she rubbed at her neck, as if checking there was nothing metallic pressed against her skin...
Rogue would probably never be quite the same again. You couldn't just go through something as horrific as a mutant research lab and come out the other side smelling of roses. It was good that she'd regained as much of her humanity as she had already, considering it'd been so little time since Audrey was banished and the mutant girl reawakened the memories she'd suppressed for so long. She had her newly-discovered brother to thank for that small miracle.
Mystique gazed down at her grown son. She could still remember holding him that fateful night when he tumbled from her grasp and over the waterfall. She'd thought he was lost to her then, and again when the virus came and the Xavier Institute was slaughtered. And now, here he was, returned to her at last.
She reached out and made to stroke the fur on his temple. She wanted to make sure he was real, and not just the product of her deranged imagination.
Todd had gone quiet since her earlier conversation with Logan. Perhaps he was satisfied for the time being that she was making the effort to renew his chance at life.
Kurt twitched as her fingers came close, and she paused. His face contorted into an expression akin to fear, and he started to mutter in quick, breathless German at a nightmare.
Mystique hadn't spent countless years in Germany without picking up the language, but as she listened to her son's babbling she wished she hadn't. He sounded scared, and it troubled her that she could do nothing but shush him softly against his fears.
"[No,]" he whispered, "[Stay back. I'm sorry for what happened, I really am. Please, just leave me alone...]"
"Hush," she murmured, bending her head and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Hush."
Kurt twisted until his sleeping face stared blankly up at hers, lids closed. "[I didn't mean for it to happen,]" he whispered desperately. "[Please try to understand. It was Winzeldorf all over again. I-I-I wanted to stay, but I couldn't. I *didn't* leave you to die. Please, I...]" He trailed off into quiet sobbing.
Mystique's brow crinkled in dismay. Her poor baby. He had his own demons to contend with this night. "Hush, liebling," she soothed, falling back into old habits and brushing his cheek. "[I'm here.]"
"Mama?" He was still asleep, but she answered anyway.
"Ja, liebling. Ja."
*******************
Pietro watched her from the back of the bus through narrowed eyes. Mystique's actions, though noble enough in sentiment, didn't ring true with him somehow. Despite his little tête-à-tête with Kurt before leaving, the idea of allowing the tricky shapeshifter to stay still left a nasty taste in his mouth.
Kurt was a fool where family was concerned; this much Pietro had learned of late. Kurt was so bent on retrieving his 'kin' that he was blind to what they were really like. Some people would say the elf saw only the good in people. Pietro chose to think he only ignored the bad.
It would take a lot more than some telling-off from someone barely the same age to deter Pietro's hatred. His feelings against Mystique ran far deeper than merely Todd's death. The fact that she'd abandoned them in his eyes had made her his nightmare for months after the break-up of the Brotherhood.
Pietro had lost many things in his life; had lost many people. When he came to Bayville he'd been promised a new start. A place where he'd never have to worry about being alone again, about being abandoned.
When Mystique left and didn't come back he'd felt worse than alone, he'd felt betrayed. She was his only link to his father, and with her, so went Magneto.
Magneto.
Was he still alive?
Who knew? If the great Charles Xavier could be killed off, then why not the Master of Metal? He wasn't invulnerable, nor immortal. He was just a man.
Had been just a man.
Pietro watched Mystique bend and kiss Kurt's face once more, and his eyes became bleak slits. Mystique would never worm her way back into his heart. He'd learned from Kurt's brusqueness beside the bus not to voice his abhorrence anymore, but she'd never win him back to her side.
Never.
The speedster blinked as he contemplated Kurt's words. _Four years ago *you* were a self-centred prick who couldn't hang around to help his friend. _
They'd stung.
Of course they had. Kurt had taken Pietro's greatest failing and spoken about it like a teacher to a naughty child. It was humiliating, but somehow... it also made Pietro feel desperately ashamed of himself on some basic level.
He shouldn't have tried to turn Robyn and Daisy - that much he now realised. Kurt was fiercely protective of his 'little sister', and had adopted Daisy into a similar, if not quite so potent mould as Robyn's status.
_Huh, there goes the 'family' schtick again. Boy, is Fuzzy a sucker for that crap._
Pietro had no family anymore, save for the contents of this bus, and they hardly counted. He didn't care. Except maybe for Robyn. Robyn didn't judge him, or know what he'd done. She was too young, too innocent. Even Daisy knew too much, could look at him with fear or knowledge and wondering at what he'd done in life to survive. A child, made to grow up so damn fast it was almost obscene...
He blinked as he realised that it was perhaps not so much what was said, but who'd said it that had hurt him. Kurt had extended the hand of friendship, misshapen as it was, and offered Pietro a last glimmer of hope in a wasteland he'd thought held none. To hear the elf-boy sound so... angry with him. It'd hurt. Maybe more than he cared to realise. Kurt was his friend. His first true friend since Todd died.
But he wouldn't forgive Mystique for him. That was asking too much.
Too much entirely.
"Hush," she whispered inaudibly, lulling her son into a happier slumber. "Hush, Kurti."
Pietro closed his ears and blocked out the sound of her voice. He couldn't forgive her. Not now. Not ever.
_Sorry, Kurt. Not even for you._
*******************
_Welcome to Hershey_, a battered green sign proclaimed to the world.
Mystique had travelled much in her day, and had a feeling she would be seeing many familiar places as the stolen bus rattled westward. The last time she'd passed this way, the smell of chocolate was so heavy in the air that one gained weight just by breathing [1]. Now, the only aroma she could detect was the persistent odour of gasoline.
In her lap, Kurt groaned and twitched his nose. Whether this was in reaction to a real scent or an imagined one, she could only wonder.
_Harrisburg_, the next sign proudly declared. _Capital of Pennsylvania. Pop. 50,900._
Logan was certainly driving fast. Idly, Mystique tried to calculate the gas mileage of a double-decker bus, and how far their fuel stores might get them.
They passed another sign, which had apparently been vandalised at some point, and now read merely, _Pitts_.
Pietro had finally fallen asleep, his eyes no longer burning into the back of her neck, but Rogue was now awake. As mother and daughter lay with furry heads in their laps, they spoke quietly, tentatively. After all, how much did they really know about each other anymore?
"Maybe I should've asked this back in Philly," Rogue said logically, "but what are we all doin' on this bus? I mean, really."
"Travelling," Mystique replied simply. Before Rogue could make a sarcastic comeback, she continued, "To find the Goddess. That's the truth, honestly. He," she nodded to Alvin, awake but absorbed in some thick text, "is one of her followers. He seems to have prophecies for all of us," she added, almost as an afterthought.
"What's mine?" Rogue asked curiously, the tone of her voice telling Mystique that she still was not quite able to accept the idea of going Goddess hunting.
Mystique leaned forward just enough to tap Alvin on the shoulder. Closing the book on his finger, he turned to face her. "Yes, Blessed One?"
"Alvin, do you have a prophecy for Rogue?"
The disciple's eyes slid to the left as he thought. "Yes," he said after a moment. "Girl of fire and ice walks narrow path, seeks self in chaos, touches hearts with fear."
"Fire and ice," Rogue repeated. "I'm the girl of fire and ice?" She screwed up her face in thought.
"Why?" Mystique's brow furrowed. "Do you know what it means?"
Rogue sighed and closed her eyes. "Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favour fire. But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction, ice is also great and would suffice." She opened her eyes and fixed her mother with a penetrating gaze. "Robert Frost."
Alvin paged frantically through his book. "You are destined to be linked to the apocalypse?" he said, as his eyes scanned the pages. "Mayhap... even the cause of it? Not good. Definitely not good..."
*******************
Ariel woke to spectators, who jumped back up a step. He surfaced and blinked at them. "Can I help you?"
"See? I tole' you he weren't dead."
"But he was drownded," said the youngest of the small batch of kids.
"You got gold all over," said the little girl next to her.
Ariel blushed as he left the water and reached for his pants. "I'm fairly sure you shouldn't be looking at naked boys..."
"Why not? I gots five brothers."
Ariel sighed. "Good for you." He pulled on his shirt. "Why are you here?"
"We wanted t' go swimmin' an' we see'd your drownded body."
"I wanned ta poke y' with a stick," said the redhead. He had freckles dotted all over his grinning face, and didn't seem in the least repentant.
"You was breathin' through yer neck," said the girl.
Ariel nodded. "I know, I have gills."
"COOL!"
"You kin sleep in our swimmin' hole anytime!"
"Jest don't pee in it none."
Ariel laughed. "Even if I did, I could draw those impurities out. You've seen me work, haven't you?"
"Work?"
Ariel twiddled a finger and made a dragon out of water. "I control water. It's my mutant power."
"Whoah."
"Neat."
"C'n I pet it?" asked the youngest shyly.
Ariel chuckled. "Enjoy. You can even swim. Be careful, though. This is living water. It's very rare,
these days."
Her hand paused halfway to the dragon. "Livin' water?"
"This basement is an ecosystem." Ariel pointed out the elements. "See? Growing weed puts oxygen in the water. Fish eat the weed. Frogs live here, and some insects, too. Most of them go to hide when you swim."
"Real frogs?"
"Yes," said Ariel. "I was told they were dead. Extinct. But I felt them as I slept."
The redhead screwed up his face. "What's extinct?"
"Extinct means all gone." Ariel checked his vest pockets absently. "No more like it, ever."
"Is that bad?" the young girl asked with genuine concern.
"Yup." Satisfied that all his possessions were still there, Ariel pulled the makeshift garment over his head. "If the frogs are gone, they're not eating the flies. Then the mosquitoes go and have lots of little mosquito babies and they take over the world and Eat Little Girls!" As he uttered this prophecy of doom, the mutant boy rose and reached half-curled fingers towards the girl.
With an "eep", she shrank back against her sister.
"Well, maybe not that bad." Ariel dropped his arms to his sides. "But be careful anyway, all right?"
They nodded fervently. Ariel winked, and walked out of the building, emerging into the light of a new day.
*******************
"Please, Goddess... eat?"
Her appetite was shot, but they offered her the best of their foods anyway. "What is it?"
"Pork and chicken. And vegetables, of course."
Ororo nodded. To this day, she refused to eat cats or dogs. She knew others would, since they were desperate, and did not forbid the consumption of that flesh. Still, others decreed the meat unclean since she, the Goddess, refused to touch it, and kept with her taboo.
She ate a spoonful of the offering. It was warm and salty, and she knew she should eat as much as she could stomach. "Any news?"
"There was a Blessed One auctioned again," said her devotee. "A boy with golden skin who could move water. Our Devoted tried to win him, but couldn't offer more than two apple trees. He was sold to another."
"We will win in time," Ororo soothed. "Soon, we'll have enough to win, and free them. What of my missionaries? Have any returned?"
"None, yet. Communication is... unreliable. We *have* had some carts returned - empty - by the raiders."
Ororo took another spoonful. "You're not telling me all your news."
"One was written on. The message said, 'thanks for the food'. We don't know if they..."
"Forgive them," Ororo whispered. "They won't accept our help, and they insist on taking what they need wherever they can find it. Humans are meat, too."
Her devotee kowtowed. "I'm humbled by the Goddess' wisdom."
"Please don't do that. We need all the sense we have. Don't knock yours out on my behalf?"
"As you will, Goddess."
As hard as she tried, she could not stop them calling her that. She ate more soup. "Do you have good news?"
"Yes! Sara is with child. Seer says that there's a high chance it will be Blessed. He can't tell the gender, as yet."
"And Lynne?"
"No change, thanks be. She's confined to bed, but her child has shown no more signs of coming early."
"Keep feeding her the herbs as often as you can, and give her a little alcohol if she has the pains before her time..." Ororo trailed off. She concentrated on the weather. "Yes..." she whispered. "Soon."
"Goddess?"
"My microclimate," she breathed. "It's getting stronger. I can finally rest, soon. Very soon. Just a few more days."
"Then eat, Goddess? Please? You need to be strong yourself. Your people need you."
Yes. She could eat a little more. She could eat until her stomach threatened to rebel. "Yes," she said. "I do need my strength."
*******************
Hours passed uneventfully, and the bus soon reached the edge of Pennsylvania. They passed a worn and battered sign, on which only the word _Ohio_ could be made out. However, that was not what grabbed their attention.
A little way from the sign was a huge, crude crucifix composed of roughly hewn beams. Tied to it with rotted rope was a body, features mostly decayed away except for two, splendid wings - which might once have been white, except mould, dust, and blood had discoloured them. Around the neck hung a notice scrawled on splintered wood.
_Mutie Scum DIE_
Kurt gawked openly at it through the window, awed and dismayed by the naked hatred that had gone into making such a disgusting article. It was enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs, if not from disgust than from fear.
A little voice at his elbow asked in a hushed, almost reverent tone, "Is that an angel?"
Kurt looked down at Robyn's curious, cat-like face. He was struck with the urge to push her away, to hide the terrible sight from her eyes and keep her innocent a little longer. Then he remembered that she had seen worse than this on the streets of Bayville, and that keeping her innocent would probably do more harm than good.
"Nein liebling," he replied softly. "Only a man."
"How long's he been there, d'ya think?" asked Rogue, her voice, like the others, in a hushed whisper, as if fearing to disturb the dead.
"Over seventy days, I think," Pietro replied, his own voice loud, casual, as though passing on the time of day. Dead bodies were nothing new to him. "Biology textbook once told me that you can tell, because the skin goes kinda - "
"That's enough, thank you," interjected Kurt, "I don't want to know."
They stood in silence for a while.
Eventually, Lance spoke up. "I... I've heard of Ohio - on the road, I mean. They say that the plague didn't hit quite so hard here, there's still a large population of humans. Combatively speaking, of course."
"Isn't that good?" Rogue asked.
"Not when every single one of them is after mutant blood."
"The gangs around here... are very powerful," Alvin murmured thoughtfully. "My people try to avoid this place when we can. Mutant sympathisers are killed outright. Mutants... are rarely so fortunate."
Kurt waited a second, and then prised himself up, only wincing the tiniest bit when his injured rear brushed the seat. He skittered to the front of the bus and clung onto the back of Logan's chair to save himself from falling over as they bumped and bustled their way along the broken road.
Outside, the sky was growing ever so slightly lighter, stars being absorbed into a carpet of dull grey. Kurt glanced up at it out of habit, and without bothering to look at a watch he estimated the time to be about 4 a.m. It was a quirk of his mutation that he never really needed to look at a timepiece to know around about what time it was. Nothing as specific as a clairvoyant, mind, but it was enough. You couldn't exactly buy watch batteries from stores anymore.
"Herr Logan, is there any way we can go around this place instead of through it?"
Logan gave a short, humourless laugh. "With our gas supply? Think again, Elf. If we wanna reach 'Ro on what we got, then a straight line's our best bet."
Kurt chewed his lower lip. "But the gangs..."
"We'll just hafta be extra careful. Hey, God Boy!"
"My name is Alvin, Blessed One."
He shrugged. "Whatever. You got any more info on these gangs? Like, whether they come out in daylight?"
Alvin retrieved another book from his cart and started flicking through it. "There is an account written by one of our order not so long ago who ventured hence and returned to us full of stories... Ah, here it is."
All turned to look at the zealot.
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud. "From the account of Gerrad Longman. 'I have travelled far and wide, yet never have I come across such blatant savagery as is imbued upon these people. They know not compassion, nor fear, and the only words that grace their lips are filled with malice, hate, and the desire to do harm. Their hands are made, it seems, only for the cruel pleasure of torture, and their tongues merely for taunting their prey, of which anything can become a part. They happened upon me when the sun rose to its zenith, ransacking my cart and chasing me from their land with threats ringing in my ears. Goddess take pity on any who stray into this land of the wicked, for they seem not to sleep, eat or perform any other basic human task other than kill what they do not recognise, or mutilate what they do not care for. They are many, and widespread, and it was pure luck from our Goddess that I have returned this day to relate my tale to all. Stave off the land of the Clawhands and Steelfeet, lest ye be rent to shreds by their wrathful woe.'"
Everyone gaped as he finished. That answered that question, then.
Rogue swallowed. "What're the 'Clawhands' and 'Steelfeet'?"
Alvin reverentially closed the tome and sighed. "Names of the gangs these wicked people have joined, I fear. I implore you, Blessed One Logan. Turn away from this place of evil. We shall find another way."
"There *is* no other way," Logan replied. His voice was harsh, his tone grim. "If we skirt around then we're done for anyway. No way we'll reach 'Ro in time, before she..." he trailed off, leaving the thought hanging in the air. He didn't need to say it, for they all knew what he meant, and saw the sense behind his words, even if they didn't like or agree with it.
Before she died.
Alvin had said Ororo was dying. They needed to reach her before it was too late.
Mystique glanced down as a small hand took hers. Daisy was cuddled up to her side, one half of her face red and puckered where she'd pressed too hard. Her scaly little fingers with intertwined with the shapeshifter's, and she looked up with something akin to fear in her pale eyes.
Mystique's expression hardened, and she raised her head. "We don't stop," she said bluntly. "No resting off the bus today. If we keep going during the daylight hours then we might just make it through without meeting any of these mutant hunters. We can rest and refuel tonight, someplace quieter. Safer."
Kurt frowned. "But Herr Logan needs to rest - "
"I'm fine, Elf," Logan cut him off without taking his eyes from the road ahead. "I'll be even better once we're outta this place and left it far behind us. Raven's right. If we keep going and don't stop then we'll be better off all round. I can rest later. Healing factor, remember?"
Kurt blinked. Had he just called Mystique by her real name? *Nobody* did that. Not even herself.
"All right, then," he agreed, albeit with a precursory glance at everybody else first to make sure. "We keep going, and we don't stop until we're through this godforsaken place."
Logan only nodded, but he waited until Kurt had returned to his seat before pressing the accelerator that little bit harder.
After all, a bus was a very big, very noisy target.
*******************
"Wake up."
_Aw, c'mon Aunt May, just five more minutes?_
Rough hands grabbed him then, and he jolted awake. He felt wet and cold, and when he tried to take a breath, he could only cough and choke. There was something in his mouth. Something thick and sticky, and it clogged his throat like molasses.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
He was finally able to draw breath, and he leaned against the wall for support before opening his eyes.
What he saw before him astounded him. He was in a cubic room with metal walls, ceiling, and floors. Everything seemed to shine like it was newly polished, but a second look revealed patches of rust and signs of ageing, even neglect. To his sides were tubes filled with a green liquid, a few of which were empty, much like the one behind him.
Yet what drew his attention was the tall, imposing man standing in front of him. The owner of the voice he had heard.
The man wore red metallic armour - the kind that would have made him laugh had he not seen the thing's he'd seen - but had the face of a dignified old man. His white hair hung long about his shoulders, and piercing eyes did not leave him for a moment.
"Where... where am I?"
"You are safe now, Peter. I rescued you from the New York gangs who would kill you for what you are. You are on Asteroid M, a sanctuary in space for those who have no further use for Earth."
_Well, that explains everything,_ he thought, something green and sticky dribbling off his fingers. "And who are you?"
"I am Magneto," the man said with a tone of finality. "Your wounds have healed well, Peter. I believe it is time for you to meet your new family." There was an air of irrevocability to his voice, like objection or protest were out of the question.
He gestured for him to follow to the next room, and before Peter could move, he found himself trailing the man. After a panicked moment he realised that, somehow, the floor was moving underneath him. A metal runway of sorts, almost like a conveyer belt.
A portal opened before them, and the two entered a lavishly furnished room, complete with a fireplace and couches. It was a complete antithesis to the room they had just left.
"Good morning, children," the man began. "Come meet the newest addition to our family. Peter."
He stepped to the left, allowing Peter to see the inhabitants of the room and the inhabitants to see him.
On the left side, as far from the fireplace as possible, sat three identical boys - triplets. They raised their heads as one and spoke. "Hello, Peter."
A girl was sitting on the floor amidst a pile of paper. A faint halo of light surrounded her, and she smiled a dazzling smile. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, a trail of light spelled, "Hello, Peter," in the air around her.
Last, a girl uncurled herself from beside the fire and stretched lazily. Peter noticed, as most boys would, that she was not wearing much clothing, and kept his attention focused on her face. She looked up at him, not bothering to rise above a kneeling position. "Why, hello Peter." Her voice contained the hint of a lilting Scottish brogue, but Peter was more distracted by the spiked collar around her neck, replete with metal dog tags.
Magneto pointed to each in turn. "They are Multiple. He was born with the strange mutation to split his body into many. When I found him, the gangs had beaten him so much there were in excess of one hundred of him. I rescued all that I could, and one by one, they reabsorbed into one another. All except these three."
The boys did not react; they merely glanced at one another for a moment, and then returned their attention to studying Peter. They could not have been above sixteen, if that.
Magneto pointed to the next one. "This is Dazzler. She has the powerful ability to turn sound into light and energy. However, she used too much energy fighting off a mob one time, and now any sound she produces is automatically turned into light."
She just shrugged and nodded, her smile warm and friendly as sunbeams.
"And finally," the strange old man said, "this is Wolfsbane. She can turn into a wolf, a girl, or anywhere in between." He did not say more, and the girl only smiled widely, displaying a row of dangerous looking teeth. All of them pointed. All of them sharp.
"So where do I fit in with all this?" Peter asked rather bemusedly. What had happened? Why couldn't he *remember* anything?
"You will complete my first true team. When the time comes, you four will finish the work I have begun. You will rescue the mutant race from Earth, and we will leave it to the savages." Magneto paused to compose himself. "Dazzler, please show Peter to his room so that he may get cleaned up. Explain to him anything he needs to know. We will start training tonight, after dinner."
Dazzler stood up, leaving the scattered papers behind her, and snapped her fingers. Instead of a sound, a flash of light appeared. It slowly transformed into an arrow, and shot down a hallway. Peter was mesmerised despite himself, and began to follow her like this was not all part of some strange, freakish nightmare no pinching would awaken him from.
Suddenly, he was stopped once more by Magneto's voice.
"Oh, and Peter? Now that you are a part of our family, you will need a new name. We do not use Earth names on Asteroid M."
"Wha-?" Earth names? Asteroid M? Had he been eating that really strong cheese before bed, again?
"No longer will you be Peter Parker," Magneto said imperially, like a king knighting someone. "Now, you are the Spider-Man."
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] It's true!