A/N ~ Just one word - WOOT! And does anyone know why FF.net seems to have stretched sideways?
Me; Yet another descriptive pseudonym ^_^. Wow, Wayne's World. I haven't watched that movie in years. Thanks for the review and the reminder to go rent it.
Yma; If I remember correctly, that was the scene we ended up scribing together owing to continuity, wasn't it? Methinks the second half occurs in this chapter, too, so more Mad Wanda ensues herein! As for how long this thing is... well, it's long. That all you really need to know ;)
ChaosCat; Hoorah! Another advocate of Robyn clinging onto the mortal coil. And as for what happened to the Braddocks... well, ask and ye shall receive...
Remedy=Chill; Opinion duly noted. Points for mentioning Clive. ^_^
Krazy Xanadu; Whoops, apologies for the late-ish posting of this instalment. Like I said, university n' all. And if you like Kurt and Logan as a duo, then check out Yma's new fic 'Watch and Learn'. *Shamelessplugalert Shamelessplugalert*
The Phantom; Hey, I remember you! You're reading this? Excuse me while I just go faint in the corner... Right, recovered now. Thank you for all your kind compliments; they're appreciated more than you know. Especially the part about the OCs. I'm intensely proud of them. Oh, and the reason you haven't seen me around Melting Point recently is that I've been trying out the non-pop-up button on FF.net, which also means the review box doesn't, er... pop up. Anyway, despite that, I have been reading it, and you're just as consistently good as ever.
UnknownSource; None of the characters are immortal, therefore they're all up for grabs as far as casualties are concerned. Watch this space. Jamie was twelve when the war started, so he'd be about sixteen now. His mutation has therefore grown and evolved along with him, meaning any of them can clone themselves now.
On yet another shameless plug kicker, I'd appreciate it if people could go check out and perhaps review my new fic here on FF.net, called 'Be My Eyes'. It's a new take on the immediately-after-Impact's-final-scene-aftermath scenario, but seen from a completely new perspective - Mystique's.
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Twenty-third Fragment ~ Reluctance
*******************
"Please, I'm thirsty - "
"Keep driving," said the madwoman.
Ariel trembled. "All right. Only, I'm finding it kinda difficult to focus, now. My *eyes* are drying out..."
"Good *God*, why did I have to pick on a wimp? *Okay*. We can *stop*."
Ariel gratefully bought the vehicle to a halt. In moments, he was focussing on the water in the area.
Dead bodies and mostly-empty radiators. He shuddered. This was the third time, and it wasn't any easier. He wanted to be sick - but he also wanted to live.
The shape of water that came to him wasn't a beautiful dragon, but some ugly, knobbly worm-octopus thing that crawled instead of flying. It inched over to the car and somehow managed to slither up the paintwork, squishing and slurping all the way.
"*Must* you do that?" asked the madwoman, drumming her long fingernails on the side of the door.
"I can't help it," he said. "They reflect my psyche."
She rolled her eyes and looked at the sky. "Just hurry up and drink, then *drive*."
Ariel drank, sliding some of the water over his fragile gills. He couldn't waste any water on tears. Not after the last time. When he was done, he let her re-start the car with that strange, green power of hers, and drove onwards.
After the town, she'd said, there would be a bridge. After what she planned for the bridge, she didn't care what happened. To her or anyone.
Ariel shivered as he drove. He just wanted it to be *over*.
*******************
All three Jamies were sitting cross-legged on the ceiling, facing each other with their eyes closed. Their hands were steepled on either side of them, only the fingertips resting on the metal tiles. Jane peeked through the door, and decided to walk in to ask them if something was wrong. They didn't feel right.
As soon as her foot crossed the threshold, she felt it being yanked upwards, and she jerked the other way, falling flat on her back. "Jamie!" she yelled, alarmed.
None of the Jamies reacted in the slightest.
She panicked and started to run down the halls looking for Erik, calling his name out breathlessly. Something was *wrong*. Something was *very* wrong.
She rounded a corner at top speed and collided into Brian, who had been rushing towards her anguished cries.
"What's wrong, Jane?" he asked, sounding concerned, which was usually about as much emotion as he invested in anything.
"Jamie's wrong," she replied in that habitual way of hers. "He *feels* wrong."
Brian blinked. "Excuse me? Wait - what's he doing?"
"Sitting. He won't move."
"Hmm. And... what else is he doing?"
She frowned. "Nothing. Sleeping, maybe? But there's a ghost in with him. It grabbed my foot and - hey!"
Brian grabbed Jane under one arm and ran towards the forward chambers of the asteroid. All the corridors around here were of the same monotonous, grey guise, with ugly open piping across the walls and ceilings, but he seemed to know where he was going. "Which room was he in?"
Jane looked around. "That one!"
Brian screeched to a halt and peered through the open door. Then he made a vaguely relieved noise. He sat down against the wall next to Jane and put an arm around her. "You had me worried for a minute there, sweetie. There's nothing wrong."
"But the ghost..." she murmured, sinking into his arms. Brian was strong and secure. She always felt better when he held her, like she did with Erik. Even so... "And why doesn't he feel right?"
"There is no ghost. Jamie likes to reverse gravity in the observation lounge sometimes. I think it helps him concentrate."
Jane nodded solemnly, despite not knowing what either gravity or an observation lounge were. "Why doesn't he feel right?" she repeated, some of Brian's calm transferring itself to her via her empathy.
Brian frowned, dark brows pulling together. "I don't know what you mean."
"He doesn't feel happy, or angry, or sad, or *anything*."
He aah'd. "He's... thinking."
"Oh." A pause. "What's he thinking about?"
Brian shrugged. "I'm not sure, sweetie. They try to remain one mind, even though there's three of them. I don't think it's easy." He looked at her calculatingly. "You know that Jamie can make more Jamies?"
Jane nodded.
"Well, there used to be only one Jamie. Now there are three up here, and lots down on Earth. They're trying to be one person again, and to speak to the Jamies on Earth, as well."
Jane oh'd again. "Don't they like being three people?"
Brian shook his head. "I don't think so, not really. Because, you see, they're not really three people. And he's not really one person. He doesn't like that."
"Can I fix him?" Jane asked, starting to get up and head towards the door again.
"No, you can't, sweetie."
They fell into a silence that remained for a few seconds, before being interrupted by a quiet gasp from one of the Jamies. Both Brian and Jane swivelled their heads to look up and into the room, but as none of the trio had moved, they couldn't tell which one had made the noise.
One of them, the one nearest the window, was flickering like bad reception. He continued to do that for about ten seconds. Then, gradually, it died and he faded away.
Jane looked concerned, and gazed up at Brian as she pushed enquiringly against his arm, trying to get out of his gentle grip and towards the door. He felt safe, but the urge to go help Jamie was so *strong*... People weren't meant to just vanish like that, were they?
Brian just smiled gently, tightened his hold a little, and shook his head. Jane sagged, not understanding, but still immature enough to take his word for gospel.
He stood up, lifting her effortlessly onto one shoulder. "Where do you want to go?"
Jane shrugged by way of reply.
"Why don't you go to your room?" he suggested.
Another shrug.
He started towards her room, sliding her forward to let her sit on his forearm.
"Is Jamie his own brother?" she asked suddenly.
Brian raised an eyebrow. "No. He's just himself."
She knitted her brows. "But which one is Jamie?"
"All of them are."
"Which one was the first one?"
"All of them."
Jane's forehead furrowed. "That doesn't make sense, Brian," she said reproachfully.
Brian let a half-smile worm out on to his face. He was not about explain Jamie's mutation to her. He wasn't even sure of the specifics himself. "No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But it's still true."
"So... Jamie doesn't have any brothers?"
"I don't know. He hasn't mentioned any."
"Do you?"
A pang in his chest. Brian winced, remembering something distant and past. "It's rude to ask someone that, Jane," he chided gently, and then set her down. "Run along, now."
"But what about your brother?"
Brian smiled a tight, insincere smile. "I have a sister and a brother."
"Where are they?"
"My brother died because of the virus. My sister is in stasis here."
"Oh. Is she broken?"
"Yes. All the people in stasis here are 'broken'. They all have the virus."
"Why doesn't Erik let me fix them?"
"You'd catch the virus from them before you were able to cure it. Then we'd have no way of curing you, and all of us would probably catch it from you." _Or at least, that's what Erik says,_ he added to himself.
"That's bad?"
"Very."
Jane paused. "Doesn't anyone else here have brothers and sisters?"
Brian scratched his head. "I can't quite remember. I think two of them in stasis are brother and sister, and I think Wolfsbane has a brother in there by some unnecessarily convoluted family tree." He grimaced and shook his head. "Scots..."
Jane shivered. "I don't like Wolfsbane. She's nasty."
Brian nodded despite himself. He, like many of the males aboard Asteroid M, had run into the female mutant's 'advances'. She could be quite forceful when she wanted, and had a habit of leering whenever they went past. Since Spider-Man woke up, though, she'd been trailing him like a puppy after a meaty bone, and had left the rest of them be. Small graces to be grateful for, even if she was still savage as a rabid dog.
"Yes, she is. Just you keep out of her way, yes?"
"Okay." Jane hugged his leg briefly, then ran the rest of the way back to her room.
Brian rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a minute. Then he made a snap decision to visit the vaulted chamber where the stasis tubes resided, and turned his feet in that direction. Jane's talk had made him suddenly wistful, and he had the urge to go talk over his new life here with Betsy[1].
*******************
"They're coming."
Grasshopper nearly jumped clean out of his shell. "Shit! Don't do that, Scry!"
The humanoid mutant didn't look at him. He'd sat straight up in bed, and the single dirty sheet was pooled about his waist. This was the first he'd woken since his faint of earlier, and Grasshopper hadn't left his oldest friend's side since.
Now the Mutie Town leader's insectoid brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Them. They've started off again, but... but she's already there. Waiting for them." Scry bit his lip, and turned troubled eyes around the room. His expression was glazed, and it was clear he was in the throes of another Vision, so Grasshopper crouched twitchily at the foot of the bed and waited for it to finish.
Scry was impossible to talk to when he got like this. They'd been friends for years, even before the start of Mutie Town, so he knew that much.
"He's... frightened. So small... young. She won't hurt him... useful, but... plans. Big plans. Mustn't get in her way, or... hurt. So much hurt. Inside... outside.... all around. Awash with it." Scry blinked, gaze refocusing.
Grasshopper clicked his wings beneath their casings and straightened up. "What did you see?" he asked simply.
Scry looked up at him, and said, unflinching, "Death."
"Whose?"
"Many."
"Any of our people's?"
The visionary pressed a hand to his forehead. "I... cannot tell. Clouded. Maybe?"
Grasshopper snorted. "Maybe don't cut it. Who. Is. Coming. Scry?"
"The saviours," his friend replied soberly. "They mean us no harm, but we must be ready for them. They bring both sick and injured, and will have more before a score of hours have passed."
"Mutants?" An eye-ridge rose, hopeful.
"Yes. And one man, but he's of the Goddess' order."
"Bunch of ponces." Grasshopper rearranged his shell irritably and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as he was wont to do when in thought. "What saviours?"
"That's all the Vision said. Saviours. We must help them."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
Grasshopper sighed and gestured out of the window to where a young mutant was scolding a small child and dragging him indoors. There was a little gathering outside the Temple, waiting for them so they could begin the makeshift funeral for their priestess.
"That's all I can give you now, Scry. That's all I can give you."
*******************
A car is a naturally fast appliance, as designed by its original creators to be faster than walking. Or a clapped out old double-decker bus.
And a car powered by hex bolts is much faster than most.
Wanda giggled in delight, the wind caressing her face and her stomach churning with excitement.
Ariel, by comparison, felt scared and sick. Especially since she kept breaking off her inner reverie to lean across and stroke his face, murmuring sentiments such as 'pretty', and 'gorgeous'. He'd considered trying to make a break for it, but in the end his nerve had failed him. For all his skills as a servant and good trade, Ariel was still a child.
Besides, she'd only catch him anyway.
She sometimes fired tiny bursts of power at random objects as they passed. Tin cans, cardboard boxes, barrels.
People.
Ariel just kept his foot down and tried not to look - tried not to listen as she laughed when she 'scored a hit'.
He didn't really know where they were going. He just followed directions as he was given them. The land all around was barren and bleak; with little sign of something to put this much effort towards reaching.
Somehow she did, though. She knew exactly where to go, and directed him with unerring confidence.
They found it just after daybreak, when the sun had risen in the sky. She called out for him to stop, and he landed hard on the brakes, skidding the car around at the apex of a small, rubble-strewn hill she'd blasted a path through. Peering through the shattered windscreen, he saw what she'd spotted.
The Mississippi River.
He could feel the water even from this distance, pulsing and churning into slight eddies on the surface. His gut wrenched, and his skin ached like a parched man's throat in the desert. It was almost too much to bear, being so close, and yet so far. Only his fear kept him rooted behind the wheel, making sure the engine stayed purring.
The bridge over the river was, miraculously, still intact; all struts still strong and nothing sullied except for a little rust here and there. There were no other motorists about, but that was to be expected. They hadn't seen any since they left Reno and travelled up here. None that were working, anyway. The only people they'd seen had been on foot, or cowering away from them as they passed.
The madwoman liked to shoot at them best.
Wanda craned out of her windowless door and smirked. It was a cruel expression, and she took little pleasure in making it, since her thoughts were engaged elsewhere. "Onward, driver," she said in an affected British accent, "onto the bridge."
Ariel did as he was told, shoving the car into gear and driving past the shattered barrier. There was a scrap of clothing inside the booth by the side of the road, and a skeletal foot protruded from the doorway, shoe long gone. Taken by scavengers, most likely.
They trundled along at a more sedate pace than Wanda had previously insisted upon to career here. The tattered girl said she wanted to 'enjoy the view', and kept peering at the horizon with a strangely hungry look on her face.
They stopped at the far end of the bridge, where Wanda, perhaps in some misguided sense of road manners, commanded they park to the side so as to let others pass. Ariel cut the engine, which made curious clicking noises as the last remnants of hex bolts escaped into the air and fizzled away to nothingness.
Wanda hauled herself out and surveyed around them. "This'll do," she said after a moment, ostensibly pleased. "This'll do very nicely. You," she pointed to Ariel, "out. Now."
Ariel did as he was bid, sparing a longing look towards the swirling water so far below. He couldn't have any, though. He couldn't bring it up here because she wouldn't allow it, and a jump from this height would surely kill even him. Though he loved the water dearly, Ariel couldn't become one with it. He could still die by its hand.
"Now, little Water Baby," Wanda cooed, taking his hand like a mother and child out for a simple walk. She crouched by his side and gestured over the edge of the bridge to the rushing torrent below. "You see that river down there?"
Ariel swallowed. His throat was so *dry*. "Yes."
"I want you to take some of that water, and push it all the way up here. I want you," she smiled, somewhat seductively, and ran a finger under his chin, "to make a wall. Make it as wide as possible - wider than you or me. And make it thick. Thick like a brick! I want you to make it block the bridge."
Ariel gasped and stared at her, wide-eyed. "B-b-but... I can't," he stuttered. "It's too much. I'll - "
"Oh, come on now." Wanda clasped his throat in her hand, yet smiled beatifically. "I'm sure you can if you *really* try."
Ariel whimpered, and her grip tightened in response. "I've never tried to move that much water," he choked out.
Wanda's face contorted around the eyes, tightening, though her grin remained fixed in place. "Shhh, silly little water lily," she said soothingly. "You can do it. I know you can. And perhaps you do, too? And do you know how I know?" She twisted her arm, making it appear that he shook his head. "Well, because if you don't, then I'll kill you. Now, would you rather try and make a water wall, or die?"
In a swift movement she released his neck, stood up, and took a step backwards.
"Choose quickly. I'm not renowned for my patience."
Terrified, legs weak and veins throbbing with adrenaline and lack of oxygen, Ariel centred himself. He stood with his feet apart so that the mental pressure wouldn't topple him over. With a last glance at his merry captor, he squeezed his eyes shut, and concentrated. Hard.
A few moments passed. His head hurt. He felt sick. But he tried, reaching out with his power until he sensed the nearness of the water, felt it pushing and shoving against itself when it knew he was near. It knew him, just like all water did, and greeting him silently. He reached out with his mind to touch it, but felt as if he were too far away. He stretched, and then suddenly it was there, helping him along, reaching back towards him.
He grabbed at it, ignoring its cries at such rough treatment, and dragged it back up with him. The waves protested, but he held them fast. He had no time for the formalities of an element today. He felt the power surging upwards, guided by his touch until it foamed and frothed and pounded against the insides of his skull. He sculpted it, as he had done countless times - except that on this occasion he made it tall and strong, instead of small and beautiful. It was there, inside him, part of him, rushing through his body. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, and willed everything he had into pushing just a little more...
"Well *done* Water Baby!"
Wanda's warbling voice skimmed his mind, yanking him back to consciousness with a jolt. Ariel dared to open his eyes and saw, to his amazement, a wall of solid water in front of him. It pounded like an inverted waterfall, spewing upwards and then falling down again, to come back up moments later, endlessly repeating the cycle he'd set it to. It was tall - taller than most buildings, and more than ten metres thick at the very least.
But, most importantly, it was blocking the bridge.
"Now, little one," Wanda went on in a singsong voice, "I want you to keep that there, and not let it go. Some people will turn up soon. I felt them coming. Stop them and keep the wall there. There's one person I want to speak to. I'll take care of him; you just make sure the others stay away, okay? Do it, and I *probably* won't kill you."
Ariel nodded feverishly, not daring to talk - partly because he was worried about angering the volatile woman, and partly because he dared not break his concentration. His arms were outstretched, and he could feel the water crying to him, begging to be let free. It hated being confined to one unnatural form like this. With his prior creations he had let them pick what shape they could take, but this... this was wrong. So wrong. It hurt, and the water mourned for his pain as well as its own.
Wanda stepped close. He saw he in his peripheral vision. "Do we understand each other?"
And all he could do was nod.
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************
[1] Yup, that's Psylocke.
Me; Yet another descriptive pseudonym ^_^. Wow, Wayne's World. I haven't watched that movie in years. Thanks for the review and the reminder to go rent it.
Yma; If I remember correctly, that was the scene we ended up scribing together owing to continuity, wasn't it? Methinks the second half occurs in this chapter, too, so more Mad Wanda ensues herein! As for how long this thing is... well, it's long. That all you really need to know ;)
ChaosCat; Hoorah! Another advocate of Robyn clinging onto the mortal coil. And as for what happened to the Braddocks... well, ask and ye shall receive...
Remedy=Chill; Opinion duly noted. Points for mentioning Clive. ^_^
Krazy Xanadu; Whoops, apologies for the late-ish posting of this instalment. Like I said, university n' all. And if you like Kurt and Logan as a duo, then check out Yma's new fic 'Watch and Learn'. *Shamelessplugalert Shamelessplugalert*
The Phantom; Hey, I remember you! You're reading this? Excuse me while I just go faint in the corner... Right, recovered now. Thank you for all your kind compliments; they're appreciated more than you know. Especially the part about the OCs. I'm intensely proud of them. Oh, and the reason you haven't seen me around Melting Point recently is that I've been trying out the non-pop-up button on FF.net, which also means the review box doesn't, er... pop up. Anyway, despite that, I have been reading it, and you're just as consistently good as ever.
UnknownSource; None of the characters are immortal, therefore they're all up for grabs as far as casualties are concerned. Watch this space. Jamie was twelve when the war started, so he'd be about sixteen now. His mutation has therefore grown and evolved along with him, meaning any of them can clone themselves now.
On yet another shameless plug kicker, I'd appreciate it if people could go check out and perhaps review my new fic here on FF.net, called 'Be My Eyes'. It's a new take on the immediately-after-Impact's-final-scene-aftermath scenario, but seen from a completely new perspective - Mystique's.
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Twenty-third Fragment ~ Reluctance
*******************
"Please, I'm thirsty - "
"Keep driving," said the madwoman.
Ariel trembled. "All right. Only, I'm finding it kinda difficult to focus, now. My *eyes* are drying out..."
"Good *God*, why did I have to pick on a wimp? *Okay*. We can *stop*."
Ariel gratefully bought the vehicle to a halt. In moments, he was focussing on the water in the area.
Dead bodies and mostly-empty radiators. He shuddered. This was the third time, and it wasn't any easier. He wanted to be sick - but he also wanted to live.
The shape of water that came to him wasn't a beautiful dragon, but some ugly, knobbly worm-octopus thing that crawled instead of flying. It inched over to the car and somehow managed to slither up the paintwork, squishing and slurping all the way.
"*Must* you do that?" asked the madwoman, drumming her long fingernails on the side of the door.
"I can't help it," he said. "They reflect my psyche."
She rolled her eyes and looked at the sky. "Just hurry up and drink, then *drive*."
Ariel drank, sliding some of the water over his fragile gills. He couldn't waste any water on tears. Not after the last time. When he was done, he let her re-start the car with that strange, green power of hers, and drove onwards.
After the town, she'd said, there would be a bridge. After what she planned for the bridge, she didn't care what happened. To her or anyone.
Ariel shivered as he drove. He just wanted it to be *over*.
*******************
All three Jamies were sitting cross-legged on the ceiling, facing each other with their eyes closed. Their hands were steepled on either side of them, only the fingertips resting on the metal tiles. Jane peeked through the door, and decided to walk in to ask them if something was wrong. They didn't feel right.
As soon as her foot crossed the threshold, she felt it being yanked upwards, and she jerked the other way, falling flat on her back. "Jamie!" she yelled, alarmed.
None of the Jamies reacted in the slightest.
She panicked and started to run down the halls looking for Erik, calling his name out breathlessly. Something was *wrong*. Something was *very* wrong.
She rounded a corner at top speed and collided into Brian, who had been rushing towards her anguished cries.
"What's wrong, Jane?" he asked, sounding concerned, which was usually about as much emotion as he invested in anything.
"Jamie's wrong," she replied in that habitual way of hers. "He *feels* wrong."
Brian blinked. "Excuse me? Wait - what's he doing?"
"Sitting. He won't move."
"Hmm. And... what else is he doing?"
She frowned. "Nothing. Sleeping, maybe? But there's a ghost in with him. It grabbed my foot and - hey!"
Brian grabbed Jane under one arm and ran towards the forward chambers of the asteroid. All the corridors around here were of the same monotonous, grey guise, with ugly open piping across the walls and ceilings, but he seemed to know where he was going. "Which room was he in?"
Jane looked around. "That one!"
Brian screeched to a halt and peered through the open door. Then he made a vaguely relieved noise. He sat down against the wall next to Jane and put an arm around her. "You had me worried for a minute there, sweetie. There's nothing wrong."
"But the ghost..." she murmured, sinking into his arms. Brian was strong and secure. She always felt better when he held her, like she did with Erik. Even so... "And why doesn't he feel right?"
"There is no ghost. Jamie likes to reverse gravity in the observation lounge sometimes. I think it helps him concentrate."
Jane nodded solemnly, despite not knowing what either gravity or an observation lounge were. "Why doesn't he feel right?" she repeated, some of Brian's calm transferring itself to her via her empathy.
Brian frowned, dark brows pulling together. "I don't know what you mean."
"He doesn't feel happy, or angry, or sad, or *anything*."
He aah'd. "He's... thinking."
"Oh." A pause. "What's he thinking about?"
Brian shrugged. "I'm not sure, sweetie. They try to remain one mind, even though there's three of them. I don't think it's easy." He looked at her calculatingly. "You know that Jamie can make more Jamies?"
Jane nodded.
"Well, there used to be only one Jamie. Now there are three up here, and lots down on Earth. They're trying to be one person again, and to speak to the Jamies on Earth, as well."
Jane oh'd again. "Don't they like being three people?"
Brian shook his head. "I don't think so, not really. Because, you see, they're not really three people. And he's not really one person. He doesn't like that."
"Can I fix him?" Jane asked, starting to get up and head towards the door again.
"No, you can't, sweetie."
They fell into a silence that remained for a few seconds, before being interrupted by a quiet gasp from one of the Jamies. Both Brian and Jane swivelled their heads to look up and into the room, but as none of the trio had moved, they couldn't tell which one had made the noise.
One of them, the one nearest the window, was flickering like bad reception. He continued to do that for about ten seconds. Then, gradually, it died and he faded away.
Jane looked concerned, and gazed up at Brian as she pushed enquiringly against his arm, trying to get out of his gentle grip and towards the door. He felt safe, but the urge to go help Jamie was so *strong*... People weren't meant to just vanish like that, were they?
Brian just smiled gently, tightened his hold a little, and shook his head. Jane sagged, not understanding, but still immature enough to take his word for gospel.
He stood up, lifting her effortlessly onto one shoulder. "Where do you want to go?"
Jane shrugged by way of reply.
"Why don't you go to your room?" he suggested.
Another shrug.
He started towards her room, sliding her forward to let her sit on his forearm.
"Is Jamie his own brother?" she asked suddenly.
Brian raised an eyebrow. "No. He's just himself."
She knitted her brows. "But which one is Jamie?"
"All of them are."
"Which one was the first one?"
"All of them."
Jane's forehead furrowed. "That doesn't make sense, Brian," she said reproachfully.
Brian let a half-smile worm out on to his face. He was not about explain Jamie's mutation to her. He wasn't even sure of the specifics himself. "No, it doesn't," he agreed. "But it's still true."
"So... Jamie doesn't have any brothers?"
"I don't know. He hasn't mentioned any."
"Do you?"
A pang in his chest. Brian winced, remembering something distant and past. "It's rude to ask someone that, Jane," he chided gently, and then set her down. "Run along, now."
"But what about your brother?"
Brian smiled a tight, insincere smile. "I have a sister and a brother."
"Where are they?"
"My brother died because of the virus. My sister is in stasis here."
"Oh. Is she broken?"
"Yes. All the people in stasis here are 'broken'. They all have the virus."
"Why doesn't Erik let me fix them?"
"You'd catch the virus from them before you were able to cure it. Then we'd have no way of curing you, and all of us would probably catch it from you." _Or at least, that's what Erik says,_ he added to himself.
"That's bad?"
"Very."
Jane paused. "Doesn't anyone else here have brothers and sisters?"
Brian scratched his head. "I can't quite remember. I think two of them in stasis are brother and sister, and I think Wolfsbane has a brother in there by some unnecessarily convoluted family tree." He grimaced and shook his head. "Scots..."
Jane shivered. "I don't like Wolfsbane. She's nasty."
Brian nodded despite himself. He, like many of the males aboard Asteroid M, had run into the female mutant's 'advances'. She could be quite forceful when she wanted, and had a habit of leering whenever they went past. Since Spider-Man woke up, though, she'd been trailing him like a puppy after a meaty bone, and had left the rest of them be. Small graces to be grateful for, even if she was still savage as a rabid dog.
"Yes, she is. Just you keep out of her way, yes?"
"Okay." Jane hugged his leg briefly, then ran the rest of the way back to her room.
Brian rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a minute. Then he made a snap decision to visit the vaulted chamber where the stasis tubes resided, and turned his feet in that direction. Jane's talk had made him suddenly wistful, and he had the urge to go talk over his new life here with Betsy[1].
*******************
"They're coming."
Grasshopper nearly jumped clean out of his shell. "Shit! Don't do that, Scry!"
The humanoid mutant didn't look at him. He'd sat straight up in bed, and the single dirty sheet was pooled about his waist. This was the first he'd woken since his faint of earlier, and Grasshopper hadn't left his oldest friend's side since.
Now the Mutie Town leader's insectoid brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Them. They've started off again, but... but she's already there. Waiting for them." Scry bit his lip, and turned troubled eyes around the room. His expression was glazed, and it was clear he was in the throes of another Vision, so Grasshopper crouched twitchily at the foot of the bed and waited for it to finish.
Scry was impossible to talk to when he got like this. They'd been friends for years, even before the start of Mutie Town, so he knew that much.
"He's... frightened. So small... young. She won't hurt him... useful, but... plans. Big plans. Mustn't get in her way, or... hurt. So much hurt. Inside... outside.... all around. Awash with it." Scry blinked, gaze refocusing.
Grasshopper clicked his wings beneath their casings and straightened up. "What did you see?" he asked simply.
Scry looked up at him, and said, unflinching, "Death."
"Whose?"
"Many."
"Any of our people's?"
The visionary pressed a hand to his forehead. "I... cannot tell. Clouded. Maybe?"
Grasshopper snorted. "Maybe don't cut it. Who. Is. Coming. Scry?"
"The saviours," his friend replied soberly. "They mean us no harm, but we must be ready for them. They bring both sick and injured, and will have more before a score of hours have passed."
"Mutants?" An eye-ridge rose, hopeful.
"Yes. And one man, but he's of the Goddess' order."
"Bunch of ponces." Grasshopper rearranged his shell irritably and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, as he was wont to do when in thought. "What saviours?"
"That's all the Vision said. Saviours. We must help them."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
Grasshopper sighed and gestured out of the window to where a young mutant was scolding a small child and dragging him indoors. There was a little gathering outside the Temple, waiting for them so they could begin the makeshift funeral for their priestess.
"That's all I can give you now, Scry. That's all I can give you."
*******************
A car is a naturally fast appliance, as designed by its original creators to be faster than walking. Or a clapped out old double-decker bus.
And a car powered by hex bolts is much faster than most.
Wanda giggled in delight, the wind caressing her face and her stomach churning with excitement.
Ariel, by comparison, felt scared and sick. Especially since she kept breaking off her inner reverie to lean across and stroke his face, murmuring sentiments such as 'pretty', and 'gorgeous'. He'd considered trying to make a break for it, but in the end his nerve had failed him. For all his skills as a servant and good trade, Ariel was still a child.
Besides, she'd only catch him anyway.
She sometimes fired tiny bursts of power at random objects as they passed. Tin cans, cardboard boxes, barrels.
People.
Ariel just kept his foot down and tried not to look - tried not to listen as she laughed when she 'scored a hit'.
He didn't really know where they were going. He just followed directions as he was given them. The land all around was barren and bleak; with little sign of something to put this much effort towards reaching.
Somehow she did, though. She knew exactly where to go, and directed him with unerring confidence.
They found it just after daybreak, when the sun had risen in the sky. She called out for him to stop, and he landed hard on the brakes, skidding the car around at the apex of a small, rubble-strewn hill she'd blasted a path through. Peering through the shattered windscreen, he saw what she'd spotted.
The Mississippi River.
He could feel the water even from this distance, pulsing and churning into slight eddies on the surface. His gut wrenched, and his skin ached like a parched man's throat in the desert. It was almost too much to bear, being so close, and yet so far. Only his fear kept him rooted behind the wheel, making sure the engine stayed purring.
The bridge over the river was, miraculously, still intact; all struts still strong and nothing sullied except for a little rust here and there. There were no other motorists about, but that was to be expected. They hadn't seen any since they left Reno and travelled up here. None that were working, anyway. The only people they'd seen had been on foot, or cowering away from them as they passed.
The madwoman liked to shoot at them best.
Wanda craned out of her windowless door and smirked. It was a cruel expression, and she took little pleasure in making it, since her thoughts were engaged elsewhere. "Onward, driver," she said in an affected British accent, "onto the bridge."
Ariel did as he was told, shoving the car into gear and driving past the shattered barrier. There was a scrap of clothing inside the booth by the side of the road, and a skeletal foot protruded from the doorway, shoe long gone. Taken by scavengers, most likely.
They trundled along at a more sedate pace than Wanda had previously insisted upon to career here. The tattered girl said she wanted to 'enjoy the view', and kept peering at the horizon with a strangely hungry look on her face.
They stopped at the far end of the bridge, where Wanda, perhaps in some misguided sense of road manners, commanded they park to the side so as to let others pass. Ariel cut the engine, which made curious clicking noises as the last remnants of hex bolts escaped into the air and fizzled away to nothingness.
Wanda hauled herself out and surveyed around them. "This'll do," she said after a moment, ostensibly pleased. "This'll do very nicely. You," she pointed to Ariel, "out. Now."
Ariel did as he was bid, sparing a longing look towards the swirling water so far below. He couldn't have any, though. He couldn't bring it up here because she wouldn't allow it, and a jump from this height would surely kill even him. Though he loved the water dearly, Ariel couldn't become one with it. He could still die by its hand.
"Now, little Water Baby," Wanda cooed, taking his hand like a mother and child out for a simple walk. She crouched by his side and gestured over the edge of the bridge to the rushing torrent below. "You see that river down there?"
Ariel swallowed. His throat was so *dry*. "Yes."
"I want you to take some of that water, and push it all the way up here. I want you," she smiled, somewhat seductively, and ran a finger under his chin, "to make a wall. Make it as wide as possible - wider than you or me. And make it thick. Thick like a brick! I want you to make it block the bridge."
Ariel gasped and stared at her, wide-eyed. "B-b-but... I can't," he stuttered. "It's too much. I'll - "
"Oh, come on now." Wanda clasped his throat in her hand, yet smiled beatifically. "I'm sure you can if you *really* try."
Ariel whimpered, and her grip tightened in response. "I've never tried to move that much water," he choked out.
Wanda's face contorted around the eyes, tightening, though her grin remained fixed in place. "Shhh, silly little water lily," she said soothingly. "You can do it. I know you can. And perhaps you do, too? And do you know how I know?" She twisted her arm, making it appear that he shook his head. "Well, because if you don't, then I'll kill you. Now, would you rather try and make a water wall, or die?"
In a swift movement she released his neck, stood up, and took a step backwards.
"Choose quickly. I'm not renowned for my patience."
Terrified, legs weak and veins throbbing with adrenaline and lack of oxygen, Ariel centred himself. He stood with his feet apart so that the mental pressure wouldn't topple him over. With a last glance at his merry captor, he squeezed his eyes shut, and concentrated. Hard.
A few moments passed. His head hurt. He felt sick. But he tried, reaching out with his power until he sensed the nearness of the water, felt it pushing and shoving against itself when it knew he was near. It knew him, just like all water did, and greeting him silently. He reached out with his mind to touch it, but felt as if he were too far away. He stretched, and then suddenly it was there, helping him along, reaching back towards him.
He grabbed at it, ignoring its cries at such rough treatment, and dragged it back up with him. The waves protested, but he held them fast. He had no time for the formalities of an element today. He felt the power surging upwards, guided by his touch until it foamed and frothed and pounded against the insides of his skull. He sculpted it, as he had done countless times - except that on this occasion he made it tall and strong, instead of small and beautiful. It was there, inside him, part of him, rushing through his body. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears, and willed everything he had into pushing just a little more...
"Well *done* Water Baby!"
Wanda's warbling voice skimmed his mind, yanking him back to consciousness with a jolt. Ariel dared to open his eyes and saw, to his amazement, a wall of solid water in front of him. It pounded like an inverted waterfall, spewing upwards and then falling down again, to come back up moments later, endlessly repeating the cycle he'd set it to. It was tall - taller than most buildings, and more than ten metres thick at the very least.
But, most importantly, it was blocking the bridge.
"Now, little one," Wanda went on in a singsong voice, "I want you to keep that there, and not let it go. Some people will turn up soon. I felt them coming. Stop them and keep the wall there. There's one person I want to speak to. I'll take care of him; you just make sure the others stay away, okay? Do it, and I *probably* won't kill you."
Ariel nodded feverishly, not daring to talk - partly because he was worried about angering the volatile woman, and partly because he dared not break his concentration. His arms were outstretched, and he could feel the water crying to him, begging to be let free. It hated being confined to one unnatural form like this. With his prior creations he had let them pick what shape they could take, but this... this was wrong. So wrong. It hurt, and the water mourned for his pain as well as its own.
Wanda stepped close. He saw he in his peripheral vision. "Do we understand each other?"
And all he could do was nod.
*******************
To Be Continued...
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[1] Yup, that's Psylocke.