A/N ~ Everyone can blame my lateness on Shakespeare and essays thereon. Blaaaah...
In other news - we passed the 200-review mark! (Homer Simpson moment) Woohoo!
Nessie6; I wrote the whole bridge scene having never actually seen Evo-Wanda in action (such are the perils of English television). However, I knew her eyes were blue. They had just turned green here as a result of her power.
UknownSource; Characterisation shall consume your soul, say I. Hmm, Yoda moment, am I having. I'll pass on the Get Well Soon to my computer.
Krazy Xanadu; Glad you liked it, Krazy. ^__^
ChaosCat; 'You folks really know how to keep us on our toes, don't you?' Sure we do. Thumbscrews, a doorframe, and some adamantium-strength wire. ;) On the subject of chapters left, by my count there are about ten, including the two epilogues and a freebie. But don't quote me on that, I haven't actually counted them up. It's just a rough estimation. 'Oh, are you the same Scribbler that occasionally enters Lesli's fanart contest?' I am that merry wanderer of the night... I enter periodically, when the art bug nibbles my toes. You know, it's rather odd for something like that to be picked up here. Cross-fandom-ness!
Hootild; *Hides from Hootild's sister* Please don't hurt me? It was all in the name of poetic license, I swear.
Ice Princess; Regarding the 'blood caking face' phrase - occasionally I'm callous and strange. Points to anyone who knows where that line came from. And thank you for the fixed-computer sentiments. They're all appreciated.
Remedy=Chill; I went to look at 'The Skin of the Snake'. It's good, if a little confusing at times. Makes me want to keep reading it, though. Compelling, that's the word.
Ricter; Wanda's fate is expounded more in this, and further chapters. And that's all I'm going to say on the matter.
Anime-Catdagon; Your penguins scare me...
Amarth Obstreperous; 'More character death! O, shall ye ever cease thy butchery and mutilation of beloved characters?' Aaaargh, not more Shakespeare Speak, please! Mmf... too late. Nay, I shall not cease my twining of the ways, for our revels cannot end until she of portly size hath sung.
Yma; Just so long as their keyboards don't spontaneously combust from the tears. No more exploding!computers, do we want.
S. S. Goten; Glad you liked the Wanda scenes. When people like the stuff, it makes it all worthwhile.
RedWyvern; 'AHH!! She's nuts, she's slightly sane, she's sane, she's dead? AHH!' Bwaaaahahahahaaa! The whole Wanda conundrum in a nutshell. I commend you. Ever though about auditioning for the Fifteen-Minute Shakespeare Company? Pretty much the only true New Recruit aside from Jamie is Rahne (Wolfsbane), but she has more emphasis coming up in upcoming chapters, so watch this space.
Ambrosia; I see multiple AUs spawning in each of your reviews. Kudos. Yup, that's 'riffling'. Books only, no guns. Nope, no Gumnuts in England. We had the Poddington Peas and Penny Crayon instead. Yup, you got it about 'Second Best'. It was Tabby and Amara.
Diabolus in Musica; I empathise with the whole drowning-in-academia thing. Too much workie makes an unhappy Scribbler. I reply to reviews because people took the time to write them, so the least I can do is tell them they're appreciated and answer any questions they may have. It's good manners, and proves that I *do* read and value every single one of them. Including yours. Thank you. ^_^
AerinBrown; The bus is a regular kindergarten on wheels, now, isn't it?
Risa; Grandpa Wolvie, ha *ha*! Seriously, though, human flesh smells like pork when it's burning. Your theories a propos Rogue are... not completely left field, but not completely right, either. They're partially correct, but you'll have to read on and find out what I really mean. Jamie time coming right up, as is something to dispel your horror flick theory. Sorry 'bout that.
*******************
Twenty-ninth Fragment ~ Glass Barriers
*******************
Alvin was performing triage on those wounded in the battle.
Raven's rather unique physiology had baffled him somewhat, but he had tied a tourniquet a couple of inches above where her wrist used to be and the bleeding - at least, he assumed the purplish liquid was blood - had stopped.
Kurt was the least harmed, but there was nothing he could do for a broken rib but forbid him from doing anything. Kurt, in any case, was too tired to do much except lie down.
Robyn was badly burned, on top of the exhaustion, and Alvin was concerned for her. The thick cloth she had been wrapped in had protected her to a certain extent, but she was still in a bad way. He had sent Logan down to the river with her, to hold her in the cold water for a few minutes, and in the interim had made up a painkilling paste out of willow to apply to her burns when they came back.
The little kid who had been holding up the wall was more or less the same as Kurt, less the broken rib. He had croaked for water, so Alvin had given him a small bottle of semi-clean liquid. The kid had opened it and placed it beside his head as he lay down, and a trickle had started leaking upwards out of the bottle and running around his neck. Alvin wasn't entirely sure what was happening with that, but it seemed to be taking care of itself, so he let it be.
Pietro, however, was simply a mess.
He was covered in contusions, scrapes and burns. Alvin was fairly sure that the cut on his head covered a fracture in his skull. Worst of all, it looked like the strain he had put on himself by running for so long and changing direction so often had snapped a tendon in his left ankle. They had found that out for themselves when the adrenaline in his system ebbed as Rogue supported him away from the edge of the bridge. His limp had grown more pronounced, until his leg finally gave way beneath him, and Rogue had to physically carry him back to the bus. Alvin had used up some metres his clean cloth to bandage his burns and cuts, and had improvised a sort-of splint to hold his foot still. He had given Pietro some of the painkiller, but most of it had promptly been vomited back out. In the boy's defence, it did taste fairly vile, but it was still a worrisome development.
Rogue, Daisy and Kitty were standing behind Alvin as he crouched over his mortar and pestle, making a stronger painkiller out of the opiate plant that, hopefully, Pietro wouldn't reject. Kitty was holding Hope in her arms like the baby was the last thing in the world.
"Are they gonna be okay?" Daisy asked for the umpteenth time.
"Daisy, I don't... Yes, they'll be fine, I'm sure. They just need time."
"Comin' through!" bellowed Logan, as he scrambled back up the steep incline, cradling Robyn with one arm.
"Robyn!" Daisy cried, as she saw her sister and stumbled towards her. The lizard-girl's rapidly returning strength had been a surprise, given her earlier exhaustion; but amongst the myriad of other unpleasant surprises it was a welcome one. "How is she, Logan? Is she all right? C'n I talk to her?"
"You can try, darlin'. She won't say much, though," Logan grunted, carrying Robyn over to their makeshift infirmary. He laid her down gently on the ground beside the scaly gold kid, then looked up and checked over the group. "Who's watchin' the bus?" he asked, beetling his eyebrows.
"Uh," said Rogue, taking a quick tally of the group and seeing that all were accounted for, "No-one? Jamie went out to have a look around, make a perimeter so nobody could get past..."
"Christ! Someone get back there, already!" Logan exclaimed. He got to his feet, looking alarmed.
"You stay here, Logan," said Alvin authoritatively. Quite a feat, considering he looked like the word 'frazzled' had been coined for his personal use. "See that paste over there? Spread it on Robyn's burns and feed her some of it. Not too much, though - I can't make any more for a while."
"You mean that stuff that looks like shit?"
Alvin faltered; he looked confused. "I... never really thought about it before. I suppose it does, a little... but just do it, quickly please."
"Someone needs to watch the bus," disagreed Logan, starting to stalk off.
"I'll do it," said Kitty, voice quiet and manner subdued. "C'mon, Daisy, let's go back to the bus."
Daisy started to protest against leaving her foster sister, but eventually took the blind girl's proffered hand and starting leading her back to the overlarge vehicle.
Logan simply rubbed his eyes with the fingers and thumb of one hand in an exasperated gesture. "Half-Pint," he said, "No offence, but you lack one crucial thing that lets you watch our stuff."
"I can do it for her," offered Daisy.
"I'm sure you could, darlin', but one person's not enough."
"I'll go with them," said Rogue. "It's not as if I can do anything for them, with the not touching thing." Her face was strange, almost aged, as it had been ever since the bridge. Alvin had tried to treat her, but Rogue had batted him off, and refused to speak of anything except how they were supposed to pick themselves up from here.
Logan closed his eyes and stood very still. "Fine. Fine. Just go, make sure nobody's stealing anything. And fetch me a six-pack."
"Uh... we don't have any beer."
"Was bein' sarcastic, punkin. Go."
Kitty and Rogue trailed off with their charges to the bus, and clambered inside, completely failing to encounter a nefarious burglar.
In silence, Logan applied the paste to Robyn's wounds as he had been instructed. When he started working on her legs, he asked succinctly, "They be ready to move by mornin'?"
"The *morning*?" Alvin repeated incredulously. "We'll be lucky if Pietro's ready to move by the end of the *month*!"
"That ain't good enough, God Boy. We can't stay out here for long, just the few of us. We're easy pickins - 'specially seein' how much stuff we got in that bus there."
Alvin sighed. "Blessed One Logan, there is no way that Pietro will be able to walk by himself for at *least* half a week. That's assuming the best and he hasn't done anything permanent to his ankle. In the worst case, he'll probably never be able to run properly again - if at all. Certainly, he will *not* be walk-worthy for another month, at least."
"Huh. Can't you do nuthin'?"
"Not with what I have. That Jamie... he comes from a settlement near here, doesn't he?"
"Few miles on the other side of the river, yeah."
"If we were to get there by the end of the week, and if they've preserved a hospital, I might be able to do something more long-term. Until then... nothing."
"Dammit. What about the others?"
"Apart from Robyn, they should all be more or less fine in the morning. I hope that Raven will be able to grow back her hand of her own accord, but I really don't know. Kurt should be all right, as long as he doesn't do much of anything and gets plenty to eat. The little boy Pietro rescued... well, he seems to be semi-aquatic, so I've no idea what to do, but it looks like he does. He doesn't seem to be in too bad a condition, though. Exhaustion, mostly."
Logan sighed, allowing the weight of command back onto his shoulders in Kurt's absence. "Okay," he said grimly, "First things first. We need to put out the fire by that car. Don't want no more accidents than we can help. If Water Baby - "
It seemed the gold kid was not as asleep as he seemed. "My name's Ariel," croaked the boy wearily, without getting up. "Water Baby was just what she... what the lady called me."
Logan didn't even flinch. He was far past that point. "Whatever. Reckon ya got enough strength to put that fire out?"
Ariel shifted upright and looked out at the burning by the car. It was an unnatural fire, burning where there was no fuel to do so. But it was fire all the same, and so should still be an enemy of water. He was so very tired, but even he could see the danger in letting it go on burning unchecked so near to a bus full of gas canisters. The giant wave of water from before had soaked the bridge, so he wouldn't have to summon anything more from the river, and it probably wouldn't take much to put it out...
"All right," he said at last, and swallowed hard. "But after that, I need to rest. I'm so tired..."
The gruff man's voice turned vaguely soft. "Just do the best ya can, kid." He looked at the other sick and injured. "It's all any of us can do."
Ariel concentrated, trying to ignore the pounding of blood in his ears, the pain at the back of his head, and the aches in all of his muscles. The spread-thin surface water on the bridge suddenly flew up into the air, like rain going backwards, and shot towards the car. Within a matter of seconds the fire was out.
"Nicely done, kid," congratulated Logan. "Now get some rest." He looked around. "Jamie?"
The single boy jogged over, having reabsorbed any lingering clones. "Yup?"
"Run over to the girl's car. Try to move it to check for fuel, an' see if there's anything inside we can use."
Jamie nodded and did as bid.
Suddenly there was a groan. Logan turned to see Kurt finally coming to.
The elf shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz that had gathered there and recall what had happened. "Ach, mein Kopf," he murmured, and rubbed at his temples. "Was ist..." He gasped, memories hurrying back into his mind, and sat upright with the barest wince against his cracked rib.
He took a quick head count, eyes darting over the line of wounded. He saw Pietro almost immediately, recognising the boy by his almost-white hair.
"Gott im Himmel!"
Pietro's once pale skin was now red and brown, a mixture of slight burns, bloodstains, numerous bruises, and dust marks. The handsome features that had once earned the glances of a thousand drooling girls - and almost as many boys - were now blackened, bloated and bloody. His nose was broken, one eye swollen. His lips were cracked and caked in gore. His clothes hung about him in tatters, barely enough to cover his decency, and they too were burned and gory. The skin on his back and chest was horribly burnt. Kurt could only pray that the paste spread across meant it would not get infected.
The worst change though, was not one entirely physical.
Another word for Quicksilver is Mercury. And one of the words that derive from Mercury is mercurial, meaning quick-witted, changeable, exciting, sprightly. This had been the essence of Pietro. He had always been fast, always been alive, vital, and un-catch-able. His eyes, those two cold slivers of ice, had echoed this. Sharp, playful, slightly cutting, but always dancing with their own inner vitality.
The eyes that now peered from beneath half-lids were still blue, but it was the blue of cold steel. Blank, cold and almost dead. Even in deepest madness or despair, his eyes had never been so dim.
"Pietro, man," said Kurt, "are you okay?"
It was a stupid question, and Kurt berated himself for asking it. He certainly did not guess that he would get a reply - let alone the one so strange as Pietro gave.
"Gingerbread."
"Entschuldigung?"
Logan looked up, surprised to see Pietro awake so soon. Kurt looked to him, but the other mutant had no explanation for the odd response other than a shrug of his shoulders.
"I'm the Gingerbread man," Pietro said weakly, ignoring them both. "I ran and ran as fast as I could, and you couldn't catch me 'cause I'm the gingerbread man. But, see, in the story there's this river, and gingerbread can't go across 'cause it'd melt, and the wolf talked such sense at the time. It said locking up the river would be best. So the gingerbread man let him, and he went across the dry riverbed. But he left half of himself behind. And now it's caught up, and the one half tried to kill the other half - "
"Pietro," whispered Kurt, fear filling his voice, "Pie-Pie, calm down, you're babbling."
The speedster seemed not to have heard him. He continued talking in leaden tones, voice weighed down by a dreadful despair. "And the other half realised it couldn't run anymore, so it stopped. But the locked up river half, that half of the gingerbread had gone all green and mouldy, so it killed itself. Tore in two and dropped itself back into the water. And now there's only half a gingerbread man left. But half a gingerbread man can't run. Can't run with no legs. And when we were young I was Pie-Pie and she was Wa-Wa and we made a deal. We'd always have each other 'cause we'd swap half our names. So I could be Pie-Wa and she could be Wa-Pie and that made sense. But Wa-Wa's gone, and now I'm only half a Pie. It only takes seven and a half blackbirds to make half a pie. 'Specially since the raven got her wing cut off, and I can't feel my legs, so I can't run. I can't run! I can't - " His voice failed into nothing as unconsciousness finally claimed him back again, and those two, cold, dead eyes closed.
"Wh-what's wrong with him?" whispered Kurt.
Alvin sighed. "There are various physical things that could threaten his life. The tendon in his ankle has snapped, so if we don't do something soon he may never run again. And if those burns on his back become infected, he may - "
"But that ain't the least of our worries," said Logan, cutting him off. "You seen the look in his eyes before, ain'tcha, Elf? We all have."
"Ja," replied Kurt, pushing aside how Logan had told him of the same look in Alvin's gaze not so long ago. "It was there a lot when things first started to... to spiral into hell."
Logan nodded, letting the poetic language slide. "S'the look a guy gets when he's lost ev'rythin' and can't see the point in doin' any more. Main danger to Speedy ain't in his body. It's in his soul."
Kurt gulped, and tried to keep the tears at bay. He felt responsible, even though he knew none of this was his fault.
Or was it? He was the one who'd found Pietro back in Bayville. If he hadn't gone to investigate that one strange cry, if he'd left the speedster behind and never brought him on this trip in the first place, then perhaps...
"What of my mother?" Kurt asked quietly, changing the subject and turning to Alvin.
The zealot glanced towards the other blue mutant. "She's lost most of her left arm below the elbow. Considering the extent of her injuries, she didn't lose too much blood. I put on some paste to block infections and wrapped the whole thing in bandages."
"Chances for recovery?"
"She will live," he said with certainty.
Kurt's eyes conveyed the other meaning to his words.
"The hand?" Alvin shook his head. "I don't know her powers well enough to say."
*******************
"Yo." A hand on her shoulder jostled Raven awake.
"What?" she murmured aloud, before realising who it was.
Todd took the hand that only the two of them could see, rubbing the back with his thumb. "I don't wanna see no pity-parties here," he said sternly. "You gotta rest a while, then you'll be able to shift a new hand any time you want. So no whinin', y'hear?"
_I'll whine if I want._ Raven closed her eyes again. _I'm entitled. We just lost two people..._
*******************
The words slid into Rogue's subconscious. _Lost two people..._
"Two people..." she murmured, reclining back in her seat on the bus.
Two people.
Her and Wanda.
They'd come through so much together, supporting and pushing each other. Attained freedom together, rebirthed their lives together.
Then 7541 had the nerve to throw herself off a bridge, and 5930 didn't know if she could keep going forward alone.
Not fair.
"Abandoned me," she said into the armrest, as tears dampened the cloth there.
*******************
Ariel woke again from a fitful doze, still feeling dried out. His gills were fine, but the rest of him was dehydrated, and he'd used all the water he'd been given.
He staggered unheeded away from the line of injured, towards the riverbank, and stared down at the water. He stretched his hand out in greeting. The water answered, sending an eager, forgiving serpent up. Water rarely held grudges. After what he'd been forced to do to it, he was glad of that small mercy. It understood. It always understood. But it was trying to tell him something, too.
There was a dead girl in the water.
He and the serpent could feel it, her body gently nudging the bank, caught there somehow.
But Ariel was scared of her, even in death, and he was also unbelievably thirsty. So he merely kissed the serpent and slaked his thirst, not looking at the shell that had once held such dangerous life.
*******************
Broken. They were all broken, one way or another. Broken families, broken hearts, broken bodies and broken minds.
Logan, as the most able-bodied, had to get them the hell out of Dodge. But he just couldn't make his mind work, right now.
All broken.
He realised he was staring at the Water Baby - Ariel - and the bar code on his cheek that told the world he was a slave. He was twelve if he was a day. Just a kid, really. How much death and pain did he know already?
Too much.
They had to move. Get out of here. Find safety.
But there was burned out wreck of a car in the way.
Logan made his body work and got to the little goldfish. "Hey, kid."
The boy turned away from his creation, which stretched extraordinarily away into the river. "My name's Ariel."
"Don't go for names, much. Look. Can you do something about that damn car blockin' our way or not?"
The snake he was drinking from turned into a dragon, large and ferocious. In seconds, the car was gone.
"I think so."
Logan felt traces of a smile starting. He liked this kid already. "You're welcome to travel with us if you like," he offered. Hell, with the kid's power, he could do whatever he felt like doing and nothing could stop him. "Won't let anyone own you again."
Ariel seemed to find that funny. "I didn't even get an owner to begin with. Yes. I'll travel with you. Just - don't make me take water from bodies?"
Logan managed a proper, full smile. "Deal."
*******************
Scry put a hand to his forehead. He stopped suddenly, and Grasshopper carried on a few paces ahead before noticing.
"What is it?" he demanded, bouncing back and fixing his friend with a penetrating stare. "What do you see?"
"Nothing," Scry replied cryptically.
For his part, Grasshopper scowled, and signalled that the trio of mutants he'd rounded up to fortify the church should carry on without him. When they were suitably out of earshot, he turned to the short man again.
"Look, Scry, you gotta give me more than that. At least a hint."
"I can't see," Scry said again in a monotone, then carried on before Grasshopper could jump in angrily. "But I can feel. I feel... great sadness. Loneliness amongst many."
The cicada-like mutant cocked his head to one side and rustled his wind-casings irritably. "Where?"
"Close. So very close. They're disjointed. All together, yet so far apart. They travel as one, but each feels distant from his or her neighbour on their quest. They must find a way to bind themselves, or else they won't survive the journey."
"You're talking about those travellers again, aren't you?"
"Forgiveness. That's the way forward, if only they'll see it. Man and mutant must link arms as friends, or both races shall perish. There is no other way, except friendship and... love." He blinked and removed the hand. "That's all."
"Bloody useful, isn't it?" Grasshopper scuffed a clawed foot, and glanced over his shoulder down the desolate street where only a few twitching curtains betrayed the presence of his townsfolk. "We need to know more details about their movements, not their state of mind. I wish Sneak was here."
"But I am," said a sinuous voice, and both Grasshopper and Scry jumped and looked about them nervously.
"Sneak?" Grasshopper was the first to recompose himself, and he listened intently for some sign of the scout. "Show yourself. We ain't got time for games."
The shadowy wall of the building to their left rippled slightly, like a rock dropped into a pool of water, and then reformed in the near-translucent image of a willowy man with wispy hair and searching grey eyes. His pale complexion and clothing belied how he'd blended so completely into the murk, and as he stepped forward, Scry shivered the same shiver he always did when confronted with the pallid, washed-out looking spy.
Grasshopper wasn't so cowed. "What you got for me, Sneak?" he asked, crackling his wings inside his shell.
Sneak bowed his head in the manner of a courtier, and said lugubriously, "They aren't far from here, but their journey has been impeded somewhat by unforeseen circumstances. A rock rose in their way, and though it has now been removed, it will take them some time to recover and bubble through the gorge left in its wake."
"Sneak," the leader growled warningly, "you're talking in circles again."
Sneak bowed. "My apologies. The travellers are, at present, consumed with grief at the loss of one of their number, and the death of another they knew. There was a scuffle, and several members of their party were injured. There is a Jamie with them. It will take them a while to regroup enough, both in body and in spirit, to continue forth with their journey."
"How long, d'ya reckon?"
"The human healer with them wasn't hopeful."
"Explain."
Sneak coughed, and when he spoke again, it was in quite a different voice. Low and gruff, it sounded as though he was speaking through both beard and suppressed tears, yet there was an incredulously angry edge to his tone. "The *morning*? We'll be lucky if he's ready to move by the end of the *month*!"
Grasshopper frowned. "A month? But you said they'd be here within a few days, Scry."
The smaller mutant nodded. "They will. I can't tell you which day, but within six days they will have reached the Lands of New Hope."
"Pah!" Grasshopper let go of his niceties and spat on the ground. "Gobble-de-gook place. All backward, if you ask me. Anyhow, I trust your visions, Scry. Sneak; go see Mary about some food. You look like you could use a good meal after your scout. Then see what else you can dig up from our friends way out yonder." He jerked a pointed thumb, and Sneak bobbed his head before fading back into the brickwork. They didn't ever hear his footsteps as he left.
Scry shivered again. "We'd best get to the Temple, now," he suggested, and together they set off to where the sounds of nails being hammered into wood were heavy on the air.
*******************
After some moving and changing around, the bus had been turned over entirely to the injured for the night, and the others had slept outside in a lean-to put up in practiced fashion by a gang of Jamies.
Pietro was still asleep when Alvin went to check on him, puffing his cheeks and stamping his feet in the chill morning air. The mist from the river was spilling slowly over the sides of the bridge in front of them.
Pietro's ankle was swelling grossly, and his burns were starting to blister. One of the particularly large ones on his chest had already split, and was impregnating the bandage with a sickly cast. The extensive bruising had purpled entirely. About the only things that hadn't gotten worse were the cuts.
Alvin decided to risk raising the injured foot slightly to reduce the swelling. As he lifted it gingerly to arrange a blanket underneath, however, Pietro woke up and hissed.
"That hurts," he said petulantly, sounding a little more like his old self.
"I'm sorry, but you are lucky to be alive, Master Maximoff."
A wan smirk. It was as pale as he was. "Heh-heh... Master... cool..."
"You need to go back to sleep. I'll check on the others." Alvin winced as Pietro pulled himself up hastily at that.
"How's Robyn?" he asked, suddenly panicking. "I need to see Robyn!"
"Robyn is doing well," Alvin replied soothingly, hesitant to restrain him. "Goddess willing. It seems the child is protected."
"Oh. Good," Pietro said, suddenly satisfied. Then, almost as an afterthought, he asked, "Uh, who by?"
Alvin regarded him strangely. "Her sister, of course. And her brother."
"Ah. Daisy. Kurt's been taking good care of her?"
"I meant, uh, you."
Pietro grinned fit to crack his face. As a matter of fact, some of the brittle skin around his jaw did break open and oozed a viscous blood. "I *am* a good brother," he said, and with finality.
"Of course you are, Master Maximoff. Just sit back on the bed?"
Pietro complied absent-mindedly, moving his lips faintly and inaudibly.
Alvin continued on his rounds in silence.
Kurt and Raven he had deemed fit to leave the bus when they felt up to it, and were currently together, trying to convince her hand that it wanted to regrow.
Robyn was, as he had predicted, stable, and probably healing. It was still too early to make any meaningful diagnosis, but she was crying with the pain, so he gave her a little more analgesic.
Ariel had retired for the night by sleeping down half in the river, which lead Alvin to surmise he may be cold-blooded, or at least have a subhuman body temperature.
When Alvin left the bus, Kitty and Jamie were packing up the lean-to, and Logan and Rogue were doing something with the wreck of the car. A spare Jamie was looking harassed and dealing with a squalling Hope. Daisy was morosely throwing rocks off the side of the bridge.
Logan noticed Alvin, and, leaving Rogue to contend with the car alone, walked over to him. "So ... whaddaya think? Outlook any better?"
"The outlook," Alvin said patiently, "has not changed. There is no way Pietro will be able to move of his own accord without severe pain and risk of further damage for at least a month."
"Is he okay to get moved in the bus?"
"I would very much prefer that not happen. The bus is in bad condition, and even a smooth journey would only exacerbate his problems."
"Not even for a short journey?"
"*No*, Logan," Alvin said incredulously. His patience was long, but Logan's persistence was testing it. The fact he'd neglected to mention the words 'Blessed One' was testament to it. "Pietro cannot be moved. I do not see what problems you are having understanding this."
Logan grumbled, and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He reached for his shirt pocket, where he had habitually kept his cigarettes. Neither the cigarettes or the pocket were there, and he overbalanced for a second. "Jamie!" he bellowed suddenly.
The Jamie with Hope looked up, and walked over. "What?" he said curtly, Hope continually punching him in the face. It seemed to amuse her, so he put up with it.
"How long would it take me to reach Mutie Town in the bus?"
Jamie did not even glance at Alvin as he spoke to Logan. "Probably a couple of hours. Why?"
"Do you have any teleporters there?"
Alvin started to protest, but Jamie cut him off. "Lots. I know about three personally, and there's probably more."
"Any of them capable of gettin' here and takin' Pietro back there?"
Jamie nodded, and Hope's fist snagged in his upper lip. He removed it with deliberate calm, and then nodded again, more slowly. "I think so, yeah. There's none of them will trust you far enough to go with you, though."
"That case, you're comin' with me."
"You can't just do that!" exclaimed Alvin. "Pietro and Robyn are in the bus. You can't take them out, and you can't move it with them in!"
Logan regarded Alvin critically for a few moments. Then, looking like he had come to a decision, said, "Watch me."
Jamie quirked his lip in briefly in malicious glee, then stamped his foot. A dupe appeared behind him, following Logan to the bus. "Looks like you're not important anymore," he said, sounding offhand.
Alvin had ignored him and was chasing after Logan. "Pietro can't be moved, Logan! I've told you already, what are you having trouble with?"
"What's this?" asked Rogue, sauntering over.
"God Boy here ain't seein' reason. We need to get the bus to Mutie Town, and I need to get Pietro outta it to do that. He says I can't."
Rogue boggled slightly, and then said, "Of course you can't! We ain't leavin' Pietro behind!"
"Nope. I am. Me an' Jamie, we're gonna leave, and we'll send a teleporter back for Pietro an' the rest of you."
"Oh. Why won't you let him, Alvin?"
"Pietro *cannot* be moved!" Alvin said, sounding increasing angry and disbelieving. "Why will nobody listen to me?"
"I don't see no alternative, really..."
"You can walk," he said, gritting his teeth and stepping in front of Logan to block the door to the bus. "But neither Pietro nor Robyn can be moved from this bus."
"Maybe not," interjected the Jamie who had followed. He smiled. It was not a nice sight. "But then again, maybe they can."
Without much effort, he wrestled Alvin away from the doorway and held him in such a way as to prevent him from moving. Alvin thrashed and protested loudly, drawing all the others. A team of Jamies spawned from the one holding Alvin, and carried Pietro and Robyn gently out of the bus.
"What are you doing with Robyn?" demanded Kurt, angry and in pain, one ailment feeding the other.
"Don't worry, Elf," said Logan. "Alvin just don't see what needs doin'."
"And that is?" Kurt prompted, looking sceptical.
"We need to fetch a teleporter from Mutie Town. We need the bus to get there fast. We can't do it with Pietro and Robyn in there. Sorry, Elf."
"What are you doing to Alvin?" shouted Raven at the appropriate Jamie. The end of her arm supported the vestiges of a hand, evidencing a facet of her power few had rarely witnessed before.
Logan answered for him. "Alvin weren't gonna let us move 'em. We got no choice, darlin'. Sorry for Speedy and the kid, but it's happenin'."
Logan then stepped into the bus with a Jamie and started the motor. The others seemed to be too shocked to do anything.
Alvin struggled to get free, weeping and remonstrating. He finally worked one arm out and, punching the dominant Jamie with surprising force in the side of the head, started after the vehicle. However, another Jamie simply reached down and caught his ankle, sending him sprawling. Then the lot of them held him down.
A brawl ensued, Kurt and the others trying to get Alvin free, but the Jamies simply duplicated themselves to hold them back. Kurt's broken rib twanged agonisingly, taking him out of the fight, as did Raven's tender new hand.
Once the bus had passed too far to stop, the Jamies simply smirked at the others and snapped their fingers, flickering briefly and passing out of existence.
Rogue glared at the Jamie holding Hope, who had stayed out of the fight, and held out her hands. He simply put on a 'who, me?' face, but relented and handed over the baby. Raven started screaming at him, but he dismissed her concerns, then vanished as well.
Only the one Jamie remained, the one who had been helping Kitty with the lean-to some distance away. He sat down on a stanchion of the bridge, and listened with nonchalance to the others berating him.
As soon as the last of the Jamies had vanished, Alvin rolled to his feet and rushed towards Pietro's prone form.
"Idiots!" he cursed, zealous tears running down his face. "Oh, Goddess, how am I going to get him through this?"
"Alvin," murmured Kitty, "Don't you think you're over reacting a little? I mean, Logan's actions may save Pietro's life."
"They'll more likely kill him!" Alvin snapped, beyond good manners. "I've been looking after wounded people for the last four years. The longer Pietro and Robyn are out in the open, the more germs and diseases they're susceptible to, and the more chance there is their wounds will become infected! And if that happens then they don't have a hope in hell! Not to mention the strain on Pietro's muscles from moving him, the chance of dehydration or hypothermia, and the other hundred and one reasons why I was keeping him on the bus!" He held his face in his hands. "The rate this is going, I might as put him to sleep. It'd be less painful for all involved."
"Ja, just like you were going to do to Robyn." Kurt's voice cut through the air like a knife. He was sick of the God Boy's ranting, and the worry over their injured now had stirred a sliver of bitterness over earlier events. Pain engendered more pain, and hurt more hurt.
The next sound was that of a single man's patience finally snapping.
With one smooth movement, Alvin got to his feet and punched Kurt in the face. The elf went down hard and fats, not expecting the move.
"You prejudiced... bigot!" Alvin shouted, so livid he couldn't even find words to communicate the feelings roiling around inside his gut. "You... you utter hypocrite! You go on and on about peace and love and a dream, talk about humans and mutants working together, but you just don't believe it, do you?"
"Alvin," said Kitty feebly.
"No, no, *no*! I'm sick of being talked out. I'm sick of being talked down to, of being dismissed as some crazy God Boy. I'm *sick* of being treated like a piece of *dirt*! And why? I used to think I deserved it. Maybe you were the Chosen Ones and I was just normal. But now I know the truth. Now I understand what's going on! You're all as racist and prejudiced and bitter as any raider! You treat me like dirt because I'm human, because I'm not special, because my DNA doesn't have a few extra bits and pieces! Well, maybe I don't have super powers, maybe I wasn't as badly treated as you four years ago, but I've done my fair amount of stuff since then. I save lives, I work to help people with all the small power I possess, because I believe - used to believe, that any life is worth saving. And that it's not just about the quantity of life, but the quality. I don't deny that that my faith may have been shaken, broken even. I don't deny that I'm having a little crisis at the moment. I certainly don't deny who I am, and what I feel. Unlike some of you!"
He turned back to Kurt, still lying prone in the sand, staring up at the priest in shock.
"But you're the one who disgusts me most of all," Alvin hissed, and somehow the bare-faced genuineness in his words quashed any comment. "And I've worked you out now. When I heard about you, when I first met you, I thought of you as a hero. I thought, 'there's a man who's dealt with prejudice all his life, and who forgives. There's a man who doesn't judge people by their genetics.' Well, was I wrong, because that's what that Robyn thing was about, wasn't it? I thought it was me, but it wasn't. If Logan, or Kitty, or anyone else done what I did, you would have forgiven them, but not me. Why? Because I'm human, and I understand that now. You watched your friends being killed by humans, and ever since then you've tried to protect Robyn from us. Even from me, when you thought I was a threat. You've never forgiven humanity for what it did to your fellow X-Men, and I understand that. But don't hate me for the way my genes are sequenced. And don't start going on about forgiveness and a better hope for the world until you're willing to live up to that dream yourself. Both ways."
He turned, then, talking at them all. "Now, since I'm only a stupid flatscan, who is obviously not worthy of the attention of such *great* mutants as yourselves, I'll be going. Good luck in looking after Pietro and Robyn. I'd stay for their sakes, but, as Logan so wonderfully pointed out, he's a far better doctor than I am."
Alvin turned on his heel and stalked off into the wilderness, not even bothering to look back over his shoulder at their gaping mouths and guilty expressions.
He had not walked too far when there was the sound of running feet behind him, and a fuzzy blue hand caught his shoulder.
"Wait," said a soft, familiar voice.
Alvin shook him off and kept walking. "Going to beat me up or scream at me or something?" he asked in a cold tone.
"Nein, I came... I want to apologise."
Alvin turned and looked at Kurt. The elf's eyes were wide with sincerity, and his tail lashed nervously behind him. But it wasn't enough. Not now. Too much had been said and done and felt for a simple soulful look to work anymore.
"A lot of what you said," Kurt went on, "well, I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe we've been treating you badly because you're human; even if we sometimes didn't... realise we were doing it. And that *is* wrong. As were my actions. I... I don't know if I felt the way I did because of your humanity. Maybe I did, deep down inside. But I do know I shouldn't. I *do* know you meant the best for Robyn, even though it didn't feel like it at the time. And I know that..." he took a deep breath, "I know that I shouldn't hide behind what happened four years ago. I shouldn't use that to justify what I do. You may not have superpowers, Alvin, but you're a dreamer, and a healer, and so perhaps the most important member of this team. We can't go on without you. So please, forgive us. Or at least forgive them, if you can't forgive me."
Kurt proffered a hand, and Alvin saw that it was trembling.
The man was silent for a while, thinking.
He couldn't. He wouldn't. He was hurting just as much as them, and refused to go back and be a punching bag for their convenience.
_Both ways._
Slowly, he raised his own arm, and shook hands with the mutant.
"Very well. All I ask is this; in the matters of healing, my decisions stand. And I want you to at least try to back me up."
"Ja," replied Kurt, nodding vehemently. Something tinkled, like glass shards slotting back together, but neither of them heard it. "I will do that. Danke. Mein Freund?"
Alvin smiled, feeling like, after a long time, he had regained a little piece of the dream cherished for so long. Goddess or not, a dream could stand. All it needed was people to prop it up every now and again.
Hand in hand, the mutant and the man walked back through the wasteland to their makeshift camp.
*******************
To Be Continued...
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In other news - we passed the 200-review mark! (Homer Simpson moment) Woohoo!
Nessie6; I wrote the whole bridge scene having never actually seen Evo-Wanda in action (such are the perils of English television). However, I knew her eyes were blue. They had just turned green here as a result of her power.
UknownSource; Characterisation shall consume your soul, say I. Hmm, Yoda moment, am I having. I'll pass on the Get Well Soon to my computer.
Krazy Xanadu; Glad you liked it, Krazy. ^__^
ChaosCat; 'You folks really know how to keep us on our toes, don't you?' Sure we do. Thumbscrews, a doorframe, and some adamantium-strength wire. ;) On the subject of chapters left, by my count there are about ten, including the two epilogues and a freebie. But don't quote me on that, I haven't actually counted them up. It's just a rough estimation. 'Oh, are you the same Scribbler that occasionally enters Lesli's fanart contest?' I am that merry wanderer of the night... I enter periodically, when the art bug nibbles my toes. You know, it's rather odd for something like that to be picked up here. Cross-fandom-ness!
Hootild; *Hides from Hootild's sister* Please don't hurt me? It was all in the name of poetic license, I swear.
Ice Princess; Regarding the 'blood caking face' phrase - occasionally I'm callous and strange. Points to anyone who knows where that line came from. And thank you for the fixed-computer sentiments. They're all appreciated.
Remedy=Chill; I went to look at 'The Skin of the Snake'. It's good, if a little confusing at times. Makes me want to keep reading it, though. Compelling, that's the word.
Ricter; Wanda's fate is expounded more in this, and further chapters. And that's all I'm going to say on the matter.
Anime-Catdagon; Your penguins scare me...
Amarth Obstreperous; 'More character death! O, shall ye ever cease thy butchery and mutilation of beloved characters?' Aaaargh, not more Shakespeare Speak, please! Mmf... too late. Nay, I shall not cease my twining of the ways, for our revels cannot end until she of portly size hath sung.
Yma; Just so long as their keyboards don't spontaneously combust from the tears. No more exploding!computers, do we want.
S. S. Goten; Glad you liked the Wanda scenes. When people like the stuff, it makes it all worthwhile.
RedWyvern; 'AHH!! She's nuts, she's slightly sane, she's sane, she's dead? AHH!' Bwaaaahahahahaaa! The whole Wanda conundrum in a nutshell. I commend you. Ever though about auditioning for the Fifteen-Minute Shakespeare Company? Pretty much the only true New Recruit aside from Jamie is Rahne (Wolfsbane), but she has more emphasis coming up in upcoming chapters, so watch this space.
Ambrosia; I see multiple AUs spawning in each of your reviews. Kudos. Yup, that's 'riffling'. Books only, no guns. Nope, no Gumnuts in England. We had the Poddington Peas and Penny Crayon instead. Yup, you got it about 'Second Best'. It was Tabby and Amara.
Diabolus in Musica; I empathise with the whole drowning-in-academia thing. Too much workie makes an unhappy Scribbler. I reply to reviews because people took the time to write them, so the least I can do is tell them they're appreciated and answer any questions they may have. It's good manners, and proves that I *do* read and value every single one of them. Including yours. Thank you. ^_^
AerinBrown; The bus is a regular kindergarten on wheels, now, isn't it?
Risa; Grandpa Wolvie, ha *ha*! Seriously, though, human flesh smells like pork when it's burning. Your theories a propos Rogue are... not completely left field, but not completely right, either. They're partially correct, but you'll have to read on and find out what I really mean. Jamie time coming right up, as is something to dispel your horror flick theory. Sorry 'bout that.
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Twenty-ninth Fragment ~ Glass Barriers
*******************
Alvin was performing triage on those wounded in the battle.
Raven's rather unique physiology had baffled him somewhat, but he had tied a tourniquet a couple of inches above where her wrist used to be and the bleeding - at least, he assumed the purplish liquid was blood - had stopped.
Kurt was the least harmed, but there was nothing he could do for a broken rib but forbid him from doing anything. Kurt, in any case, was too tired to do much except lie down.
Robyn was badly burned, on top of the exhaustion, and Alvin was concerned for her. The thick cloth she had been wrapped in had protected her to a certain extent, but she was still in a bad way. He had sent Logan down to the river with her, to hold her in the cold water for a few minutes, and in the interim had made up a painkilling paste out of willow to apply to her burns when they came back.
The little kid who had been holding up the wall was more or less the same as Kurt, less the broken rib. He had croaked for water, so Alvin had given him a small bottle of semi-clean liquid. The kid had opened it and placed it beside his head as he lay down, and a trickle had started leaking upwards out of the bottle and running around his neck. Alvin wasn't entirely sure what was happening with that, but it seemed to be taking care of itself, so he let it be.
Pietro, however, was simply a mess.
He was covered in contusions, scrapes and burns. Alvin was fairly sure that the cut on his head covered a fracture in his skull. Worst of all, it looked like the strain he had put on himself by running for so long and changing direction so often had snapped a tendon in his left ankle. They had found that out for themselves when the adrenaline in his system ebbed as Rogue supported him away from the edge of the bridge. His limp had grown more pronounced, until his leg finally gave way beneath him, and Rogue had to physically carry him back to the bus. Alvin had used up some metres his clean cloth to bandage his burns and cuts, and had improvised a sort-of splint to hold his foot still. He had given Pietro some of the painkiller, but most of it had promptly been vomited back out. In the boy's defence, it did taste fairly vile, but it was still a worrisome development.
Rogue, Daisy and Kitty were standing behind Alvin as he crouched over his mortar and pestle, making a stronger painkiller out of the opiate plant that, hopefully, Pietro wouldn't reject. Kitty was holding Hope in her arms like the baby was the last thing in the world.
"Are they gonna be okay?" Daisy asked for the umpteenth time.
"Daisy, I don't... Yes, they'll be fine, I'm sure. They just need time."
"Comin' through!" bellowed Logan, as he scrambled back up the steep incline, cradling Robyn with one arm.
"Robyn!" Daisy cried, as she saw her sister and stumbled towards her. The lizard-girl's rapidly returning strength had been a surprise, given her earlier exhaustion; but amongst the myriad of other unpleasant surprises it was a welcome one. "How is she, Logan? Is she all right? C'n I talk to her?"
"You can try, darlin'. She won't say much, though," Logan grunted, carrying Robyn over to their makeshift infirmary. He laid her down gently on the ground beside the scaly gold kid, then looked up and checked over the group. "Who's watchin' the bus?" he asked, beetling his eyebrows.
"Uh," said Rogue, taking a quick tally of the group and seeing that all were accounted for, "No-one? Jamie went out to have a look around, make a perimeter so nobody could get past..."
"Christ! Someone get back there, already!" Logan exclaimed. He got to his feet, looking alarmed.
"You stay here, Logan," said Alvin authoritatively. Quite a feat, considering he looked like the word 'frazzled' had been coined for his personal use. "See that paste over there? Spread it on Robyn's burns and feed her some of it. Not too much, though - I can't make any more for a while."
"You mean that stuff that looks like shit?"
Alvin faltered; he looked confused. "I... never really thought about it before. I suppose it does, a little... but just do it, quickly please."
"Someone needs to watch the bus," disagreed Logan, starting to stalk off.
"I'll do it," said Kitty, voice quiet and manner subdued. "C'mon, Daisy, let's go back to the bus."
Daisy started to protest against leaving her foster sister, but eventually took the blind girl's proffered hand and starting leading her back to the overlarge vehicle.
Logan simply rubbed his eyes with the fingers and thumb of one hand in an exasperated gesture. "Half-Pint," he said, "No offence, but you lack one crucial thing that lets you watch our stuff."
"I can do it for her," offered Daisy.
"I'm sure you could, darlin', but one person's not enough."
"I'll go with them," said Rogue. "It's not as if I can do anything for them, with the not touching thing." Her face was strange, almost aged, as it had been ever since the bridge. Alvin had tried to treat her, but Rogue had batted him off, and refused to speak of anything except how they were supposed to pick themselves up from here.
Logan closed his eyes and stood very still. "Fine. Fine. Just go, make sure nobody's stealing anything. And fetch me a six-pack."
"Uh... we don't have any beer."
"Was bein' sarcastic, punkin. Go."
Kitty and Rogue trailed off with their charges to the bus, and clambered inside, completely failing to encounter a nefarious burglar.
In silence, Logan applied the paste to Robyn's wounds as he had been instructed. When he started working on her legs, he asked succinctly, "They be ready to move by mornin'?"
"The *morning*?" Alvin repeated incredulously. "We'll be lucky if Pietro's ready to move by the end of the *month*!"
"That ain't good enough, God Boy. We can't stay out here for long, just the few of us. We're easy pickins - 'specially seein' how much stuff we got in that bus there."
Alvin sighed. "Blessed One Logan, there is no way that Pietro will be able to walk by himself for at *least* half a week. That's assuming the best and he hasn't done anything permanent to his ankle. In the worst case, he'll probably never be able to run properly again - if at all. Certainly, he will *not* be walk-worthy for another month, at least."
"Huh. Can't you do nuthin'?"
"Not with what I have. That Jamie... he comes from a settlement near here, doesn't he?"
"Few miles on the other side of the river, yeah."
"If we were to get there by the end of the week, and if they've preserved a hospital, I might be able to do something more long-term. Until then... nothing."
"Dammit. What about the others?"
"Apart from Robyn, they should all be more or less fine in the morning. I hope that Raven will be able to grow back her hand of her own accord, but I really don't know. Kurt should be all right, as long as he doesn't do much of anything and gets plenty to eat. The little boy Pietro rescued... well, he seems to be semi-aquatic, so I've no idea what to do, but it looks like he does. He doesn't seem to be in too bad a condition, though. Exhaustion, mostly."
Logan sighed, allowing the weight of command back onto his shoulders in Kurt's absence. "Okay," he said grimly, "First things first. We need to put out the fire by that car. Don't want no more accidents than we can help. If Water Baby - "
It seemed the gold kid was not as asleep as he seemed. "My name's Ariel," croaked the boy wearily, without getting up. "Water Baby was just what she... what the lady called me."
Logan didn't even flinch. He was far past that point. "Whatever. Reckon ya got enough strength to put that fire out?"
Ariel shifted upright and looked out at the burning by the car. It was an unnatural fire, burning where there was no fuel to do so. But it was fire all the same, and so should still be an enemy of water. He was so very tired, but even he could see the danger in letting it go on burning unchecked so near to a bus full of gas canisters. The giant wave of water from before had soaked the bridge, so he wouldn't have to summon anything more from the river, and it probably wouldn't take much to put it out...
"All right," he said at last, and swallowed hard. "But after that, I need to rest. I'm so tired..."
The gruff man's voice turned vaguely soft. "Just do the best ya can, kid." He looked at the other sick and injured. "It's all any of us can do."
Ariel concentrated, trying to ignore the pounding of blood in his ears, the pain at the back of his head, and the aches in all of his muscles. The spread-thin surface water on the bridge suddenly flew up into the air, like rain going backwards, and shot towards the car. Within a matter of seconds the fire was out.
"Nicely done, kid," congratulated Logan. "Now get some rest." He looked around. "Jamie?"
The single boy jogged over, having reabsorbed any lingering clones. "Yup?"
"Run over to the girl's car. Try to move it to check for fuel, an' see if there's anything inside we can use."
Jamie nodded and did as bid.
Suddenly there was a groan. Logan turned to see Kurt finally coming to.
The elf shook his head, trying to clear the fuzz that had gathered there and recall what had happened. "Ach, mein Kopf," he murmured, and rubbed at his temples. "Was ist..." He gasped, memories hurrying back into his mind, and sat upright with the barest wince against his cracked rib.
He took a quick head count, eyes darting over the line of wounded. He saw Pietro almost immediately, recognising the boy by his almost-white hair.
"Gott im Himmel!"
Pietro's once pale skin was now red and brown, a mixture of slight burns, bloodstains, numerous bruises, and dust marks. The handsome features that had once earned the glances of a thousand drooling girls - and almost as many boys - were now blackened, bloated and bloody. His nose was broken, one eye swollen. His lips were cracked and caked in gore. His clothes hung about him in tatters, barely enough to cover his decency, and they too were burned and gory. The skin on his back and chest was horribly burnt. Kurt could only pray that the paste spread across meant it would not get infected.
The worst change though, was not one entirely physical.
Another word for Quicksilver is Mercury. And one of the words that derive from Mercury is mercurial, meaning quick-witted, changeable, exciting, sprightly. This had been the essence of Pietro. He had always been fast, always been alive, vital, and un-catch-able. His eyes, those two cold slivers of ice, had echoed this. Sharp, playful, slightly cutting, but always dancing with their own inner vitality.
The eyes that now peered from beneath half-lids were still blue, but it was the blue of cold steel. Blank, cold and almost dead. Even in deepest madness or despair, his eyes had never been so dim.
"Pietro, man," said Kurt, "are you okay?"
It was a stupid question, and Kurt berated himself for asking it. He certainly did not guess that he would get a reply - let alone the one so strange as Pietro gave.
"Gingerbread."
"Entschuldigung?"
Logan looked up, surprised to see Pietro awake so soon. Kurt looked to him, but the other mutant had no explanation for the odd response other than a shrug of his shoulders.
"I'm the Gingerbread man," Pietro said weakly, ignoring them both. "I ran and ran as fast as I could, and you couldn't catch me 'cause I'm the gingerbread man. But, see, in the story there's this river, and gingerbread can't go across 'cause it'd melt, and the wolf talked such sense at the time. It said locking up the river would be best. So the gingerbread man let him, and he went across the dry riverbed. But he left half of himself behind. And now it's caught up, and the one half tried to kill the other half - "
"Pietro," whispered Kurt, fear filling his voice, "Pie-Pie, calm down, you're babbling."
The speedster seemed not to have heard him. He continued talking in leaden tones, voice weighed down by a dreadful despair. "And the other half realised it couldn't run anymore, so it stopped. But the locked up river half, that half of the gingerbread had gone all green and mouldy, so it killed itself. Tore in two and dropped itself back into the water. And now there's only half a gingerbread man left. But half a gingerbread man can't run. Can't run with no legs. And when we were young I was Pie-Pie and she was Wa-Wa and we made a deal. We'd always have each other 'cause we'd swap half our names. So I could be Pie-Wa and she could be Wa-Pie and that made sense. But Wa-Wa's gone, and now I'm only half a Pie. It only takes seven and a half blackbirds to make half a pie. 'Specially since the raven got her wing cut off, and I can't feel my legs, so I can't run. I can't run! I can't - " His voice failed into nothing as unconsciousness finally claimed him back again, and those two, cold, dead eyes closed.
"Wh-what's wrong with him?" whispered Kurt.
Alvin sighed. "There are various physical things that could threaten his life. The tendon in his ankle has snapped, so if we don't do something soon he may never run again. And if those burns on his back become infected, he may - "
"But that ain't the least of our worries," said Logan, cutting him off. "You seen the look in his eyes before, ain'tcha, Elf? We all have."
"Ja," replied Kurt, pushing aside how Logan had told him of the same look in Alvin's gaze not so long ago. "It was there a lot when things first started to... to spiral into hell."
Logan nodded, letting the poetic language slide. "S'the look a guy gets when he's lost ev'rythin' and can't see the point in doin' any more. Main danger to Speedy ain't in his body. It's in his soul."
Kurt gulped, and tried to keep the tears at bay. He felt responsible, even though he knew none of this was his fault.
Or was it? He was the one who'd found Pietro back in Bayville. If he hadn't gone to investigate that one strange cry, if he'd left the speedster behind and never brought him on this trip in the first place, then perhaps...
"What of my mother?" Kurt asked quietly, changing the subject and turning to Alvin.
The zealot glanced towards the other blue mutant. "She's lost most of her left arm below the elbow. Considering the extent of her injuries, she didn't lose too much blood. I put on some paste to block infections and wrapped the whole thing in bandages."
"Chances for recovery?"
"She will live," he said with certainty.
Kurt's eyes conveyed the other meaning to his words.
"The hand?" Alvin shook his head. "I don't know her powers well enough to say."
*******************
"Yo." A hand on her shoulder jostled Raven awake.
"What?" she murmured aloud, before realising who it was.
Todd took the hand that only the two of them could see, rubbing the back with his thumb. "I don't wanna see no pity-parties here," he said sternly. "You gotta rest a while, then you'll be able to shift a new hand any time you want. So no whinin', y'hear?"
_I'll whine if I want._ Raven closed her eyes again. _I'm entitled. We just lost two people..._
*******************
The words slid into Rogue's subconscious. _Lost two people..._
"Two people..." she murmured, reclining back in her seat on the bus.
Two people.
Her and Wanda.
They'd come through so much together, supporting and pushing each other. Attained freedom together, rebirthed their lives together.
Then 7541 had the nerve to throw herself off a bridge, and 5930 didn't know if she could keep going forward alone.
Not fair.
"Abandoned me," she said into the armrest, as tears dampened the cloth there.
*******************
Ariel woke again from a fitful doze, still feeling dried out. His gills were fine, but the rest of him was dehydrated, and he'd used all the water he'd been given.
He staggered unheeded away from the line of injured, towards the riverbank, and stared down at the water. He stretched his hand out in greeting. The water answered, sending an eager, forgiving serpent up. Water rarely held grudges. After what he'd been forced to do to it, he was glad of that small mercy. It understood. It always understood. But it was trying to tell him something, too.
There was a dead girl in the water.
He and the serpent could feel it, her body gently nudging the bank, caught there somehow.
But Ariel was scared of her, even in death, and he was also unbelievably thirsty. So he merely kissed the serpent and slaked his thirst, not looking at the shell that had once held such dangerous life.
*******************
Broken. They were all broken, one way or another. Broken families, broken hearts, broken bodies and broken minds.
Logan, as the most able-bodied, had to get them the hell out of Dodge. But he just couldn't make his mind work, right now.
All broken.
He realised he was staring at the Water Baby - Ariel - and the bar code on his cheek that told the world he was a slave. He was twelve if he was a day. Just a kid, really. How much death and pain did he know already?
Too much.
They had to move. Get out of here. Find safety.
But there was burned out wreck of a car in the way.
Logan made his body work and got to the little goldfish. "Hey, kid."
The boy turned away from his creation, which stretched extraordinarily away into the river. "My name's Ariel."
"Don't go for names, much. Look. Can you do something about that damn car blockin' our way or not?"
The snake he was drinking from turned into a dragon, large and ferocious. In seconds, the car was gone.
"I think so."
Logan felt traces of a smile starting. He liked this kid already. "You're welcome to travel with us if you like," he offered. Hell, with the kid's power, he could do whatever he felt like doing and nothing could stop him. "Won't let anyone own you again."
Ariel seemed to find that funny. "I didn't even get an owner to begin with. Yes. I'll travel with you. Just - don't make me take water from bodies?"
Logan managed a proper, full smile. "Deal."
*******************
Scry put a hand to his forehead. He stopped suddenly, and Grasshopper carried on a few paces ahead before noticing.
"What is it?" he demanded, bouncing back and fixing his friend with a penetrating stare. "What do you see?"
"Nothing," Scry replied cryptically.
For his part, Grasshopper scowled, and signalled that the trio of mutants he'd rounded up to fortify the church should carry on without him. When they were suitably out of earshot, he turned to the short man again.
"Look, Scry, you gotta give me more than that. At least a hint."
"I can't see," Scry said again in a monotone, then carried on before Grasshopper could jump in angrily. "But I can feel. I feel... great sadness. Loneliness amongst many."
The cicada-like mutant cocked his head to one side and rustled his wind-casings irritably. "Where?"
"Close. So very close. They're disjointed. All together, yet so far apart. They travel as one, but each feels distant from his or her neighbour on their quest. They must find a way to bind themselves, or else they won't survive the journey."
"You're talking about those travellers again, aren't you?"
"Forgiveness. That's the way forward, if only they'll see it. Man and mutant must link arms as friends, or both races shall perish. There is no other way, except friendship and... love." He blinked and removed the hand. "That's all."
"Bloody useful, isn't it?" Grasshopper scuffed a clawed foot, and glanced over his shoulder down the desolate street where only a few twitching curtains betrayed the presence of his townsfolk. "We need to know more details about their movements, not their state of mind. I wish Sneak was here."
"But I am," said a sinuous voice, and both Grasshopper and Scry jumped and looked about them nervously.
"Sneak?" Grasshopper was the first to recompose himself, and he listened intently for some sign of the scout. "Show yourself. We ain't got time for games."
The shadowy wall of the building to their left rippled slightly, like a rock dropped into a pool of water, and then reformed in the near-translucent image of a willowy man with wispy hair and searching grey eyes. His pale complexion and clothing belied how he'd blended so completely into the murk, and as he stepped forward, Scry shivered the same shiver he always did when confronted with the pallid, washed-out looking spy.
Grasshopper wasn't so cowed. "What you got for me, Sneak?" he asked, crackling his wings inside his shell.
Sneak bowed his head in the manner of a courtier, and said lugubriously, "They aren't far from here, but their journey has been impeded somewhat by unforeseen circumstances. A rock rose in their way, and though it has now been removed, it will take them some time to recover and bubble through the gorge left in its wake."
"Sneak," the leader growled warningly, "you're talking in circles again."
Sneak bowed. "My apologies. The travellers are, at present, consumed with grief at the loss of one of their number, and the death of another they knew. There was a scuffle, and several members of their party were injured. There is a Jamie with them. It will take them a while to regroup enough, both in body and in spirit, to continue forth with their journey."
"How long, d'ya reckon?"
"The human healer with them wasn't hopeful."
"Explain."
Sneak coughed, and when he spoke again, it was in quite a different voice. Low and gruff, it sounded as though he was speaking through both beard and suppressed tears, yet there was an incredulously angry edge to his tone. "The *morning*? We'll be lucky if he's ready to move by the end of the *month*!"
Grasshopper frowned. "A month? But you said they'd be here within a few days, Scry."
The smaller mutant nodded. "They will. I can't tell you which day, but within six days they will have reached the Lands of New Hope."
"Pah!" Grasshopper let go of his niceties and spat on the ground. "Gobble-de-gook place. All backward, if you ask me. Anyhow, I trust your visions, Scry. Sneak; go see Mary about some food. You look like you could use a good meal after your scout. Then see what else you can dig up from our friends way out yonder." He jerked a pointed thumb, and Sneak bobbed his head before fading back into the brickwork. They didn't ever hear his footsteps as he left.
Scry shivered again. "We'd best get to the Temple, now," he suggested, and together they set off to where the sounds of nails being hammered into wood were heavy on the air.
*******************
After some moving and changing around, the bus had been turned over entirely to the injured for the night, and the others had slept outside in a lean-to put up in practiced fashion by a gang of Jamies.
Pietro was still asleep when Alvin went to check on him, puffing his cheeks and stamping his feet in the chill morning air. The mist from the river was spilling slowly over the sides of the bridge in front of them.
Pietro's ankle was swelling grossly, and his burns were starting to blister. One of the particularly large ones on his chest had already split, and was impregnating the bandage with a sickly cast. The extensive bruising had purpled entirely. About the only things that hadn't gotten worse were the cuts.
Alvin decided to risk raising the injured foot slightly to reduce the swelling. As he lifted it gingerly to arrange a blanket underneath, however, Pietro woke up and hissed.
"That hurts," he said petulantly, sounding a little more like his old self.
"I'm sorry, but you are lucky to be alive, Master Maximoff."
A wan smirk. It was as pale as he was. "Heh-heh... Master... cool..."
"You need to go back to sleep. I'll check on the others." Alvin winced as Pietro pulled himself up hastily at that.
"How's Robyn?" he asked, suddenly panicking. "I need to see Robyn!"
"Robyn is doing well," Alvin replied soothingly, hesitant to restrain him. "Goddess willing. It seems the child is protected."
"Oh. Good," Pietro said, suddenly satisfied. Then, almost as an afterthought, he asked, "Uh, who by?"
Alvin regarded him strangely. "Her sister, of course. And her brother."
"Ah. Daisy. Kurt's been taking good care of her?"
"I meant, uh, you."
Pietro grinned fit to crack his face. As a matter of fact, some of the brittle skin around his jaw did break open and oozed a viscous blood. "I *am* a good brother," he said, and with finality.
"Of course you are, Master Maximoff. Just sit back on the bed?"
Pietro complied absent-mindedly, moving his lips faintly and inaudibly.
Alvin continued on his rounds in silence.
Kurt and Raven he had deemed fit to leave the bus when they felt up to it, and were currently together, trying to convince her hand that it wanted to regrow.
Robyn was, as he had predicted, stable, and probably healing. It was still too early to make any meaningful diagnosis, but she was crying with the pain, so he gave her a little more analgesic.
Ariel had retired for the night by sleeping down half in the river, which lead Alvin to surmise he may be cold-blooded, or at least have a subhuman body temperature.
When Alvin left the bus, Kitty and Jamie were packing up the lean-to, and Logan and Rogue were doing something with the wreck of the car. A spare Jamie was looking harassed and dealing with a squalling Hope. Daisy was morosely throwing rocks off the side of the bridge.
Logan noticed Alvin, and, leaving Rogue to contend with the car alone, walked over to him. "So ... whaddaya think? Outlook any better?"
"The outlook," Alvin said patiently, "has not changed. There is no way Pietro will be able to move of his own accord without severe pain and risk of further damage for at least a month."
"Is he okay to get moved in the bus?"
"I would very much prefer that not happen. The bus is in bad condition, and even a smooth journey would only exacerbate his problems."
"Not even for a short journey?"
"*No*, Logan," Alvin said incredulously. His patience was long, but Logan's persistence was testing it. The fact he'd neglected to mention the words 'Blessed One' was testament to it. "Pietro cannot be moved. I do not see what problems you are having understanding this."
Logan grumbled, and rubbed the stubble on his chin. He reached for his shirt pocket, where he had habitually kept his cigarettes. Neither the cigarettes or the pocket were there, and he overbalanced for a second. "Jamie!" he bellowed suddenly.
The Jamie with Hope looked up, and walked over. "What?" he said curtly, Hope continually punching him in the face. It seemed to amuse her, so he put up with it.
"How long would it take me to reach Mutie Town in the bus?"
Jamie did not even glance at Alvin as he spoke to Logan. "Probably a couple of hours. Why?"
"Do you have any teleporters there?"
Alvin started to protest, but Jamie cut him off. "Lots. I know about three personally, and there's probably more."
"Any of them capable of gettin' here and takin' Pietro back there?"
Jamie nodded, and Hope's fist snagged in his upper lip. He removed it with deliberate calm, and then nodded again, more slowly. "I think so, yeah. There's none of them will trust you far enough to go with you, though."
"That case, you're comin' with me."
"You can't just do that!" exclaimed Alvin. "Pietro and Robyn are in the bus. You can't take them out, and you can't move it with them in!"
Logan regarded Alvin critically for a few moments. Then, looking like he had come to a decision, said, "Watch me."
Jamie quirked his lip in briefly in malicious glee, then stamped his foot. A dupe appeared behind him, following Logan to the bus. "Looks like you're not important anymore," he said, sounding offhand.
Alvin had ignored him and was chasing after Logan. "Pietro can't be moved, Logan! I've told you already, what are you having trouble with?"
"What's this?" asked Rogue, sauntering over.
"God Boy here ain't seein' reason. We need to get the bus to Mutie Town, and I need to get Pietro outta it to do that. He says I can't."
Rogue boggled slightly, and then said, "Of course you can't! We ain't leavin' Pietro behind!"
"Nope. I am. Me an' Jamie, we're gonna leave, and we'll send a teleporter back for Pietro an' the rest of you."
"Oh. Why won't you let him, Alvin?"
"Pietro *cannot* be moved!" Alvin said, sounding increasing angry and disbelieving. "Why will nobody listen to me?"
"I don't see no alternative, really..."
"You can walk," he said, gritting his teeth and stepping in front of Logan to block the door to the bus. "But neither Pietro nor Robyn can be moved from this bus."
"Maybe not," interjected the Jamie who had followed. He smiled. It was not a nice sight. "But then again, maybe they can."
Without much effort, he wrestled Alvin away from the doorway and held him in such a way as to prevent him from moving. Alvin thrashed and protested loudly, drawing all the others. A team of Jamies spawned from the one holding Alvin, and carried Pietro and Robyn gently out of the bus.
"What are you doing with Robyn?" demanded Kurt, angry and in pain, one ailment feeding the other.
"Don't worry, Elf," said Logan. "Alvin just don't see what needs doin'."
"And that is?" Kurt prompted, looking sceptical.
"We need to fetch a teleporter from Mutie Town. We need the bus to get there fast. We can't do it with Pietro and Robyn in there. Sorry, Elf."
"What are you doing to Alvin?" shouted Raven at the appropriate Jamie. The end of her arm supported the vestiges of a hand, evidencing a facet of her power few had rarely witnessed before.
Logan answered for him. "Alvin weren't gonna let us move 'em. We got no choice, darlin'. Sorry for Speedy and the kid, but it's happenin'."
Logan then stepped into the bus with a Jamie and started the motor. The others seemed to be too shocked to do anything.
Alvin struggled to get free, weeping and remonstrating. He finally worked one arm out and, punching the dominant Jamie with surprising force in the side of the head, started after the vehicle. However, another Jamie simply reached down and caught his ankle, sending him sprawling. Then the lot of them held him down.
A brawl ensued, Kurt and the others trying to get Alvin free, but the Jamies simply duplicated themselves to hold them back. Kurt's broken rib twanged agonisingly, taking him out of the fight, as did Raven's tender new hand.
Once the bus had passed too far to stop, the Jamies simply smirked at the others and snapped their fingers, flickering briefly and passing out of existence.
Rogue glared at the Jamie holding Hope, who had stayed out of the fight, and held out her hands. He simply put on a 'who, me?' face, but relented and handed over the baby. Raven started screaming at him, but he dismissed her concerns, then vanished as well.
Only the one Jamie remained, the one who had been helping Kitty with the lean-to some distance away. He sat down on a stanchion of the bridge, and listened with nonchalance to the others berating him.
As soon as the last of the Jamies had vanished, Alvin rolled to his feet and rushed towards Pietro's prone form.
"Idiots!" he cursed, zealous tears running down his face. "Oh, Goddess, how am I going to get him through this?"
"Alvin," murmured Kitty, "Don't you think you're over reacting a little? I mean, Logan's actions may save Pietro's life."
"They'll more likely kill him!" Alvin snapped, beyond good manners. "I've been looking after wounded people for the last four years. The longer Pietro and Robyn are out in the open, the more germs and diseases they're susceptible to, and the more chance there is their wounds will become infected! And if that happens then they don't have a hope in hell! Not to mention the strain on Pietro's muscles from moving him, the chance of dehydration or hypothermia, and the other hundred and one reasons why I was keeping him on the bus!" He held his face in his hands. "The rate this is going, I might as put him to sleep. It'd be less painful for all involved."
"Ja, just like you were going to do to Robyn." Kurt's voice cut through the air like a knife. He was sick of the God Boy's ranting, and the worry over their injured now had stirred a sliver of bitterness over earlier events. Pain engendered more pain, and hurt more hurt.
The next sound was that of a single man's patience finally snapping.
With one smooth movement, Alvin got to his feet and punched Kurt in the face. The elf went down hard and fats, not expecting the move.
"You prejudiced... bigot!" Alvin shouted, so livid he couldn't even find words to communicate the feelings roiling around inside his gut. "You... you utter hypocrite! You go on and on about peace and love and a dream, talk about humans and mutants working together, but you just don't believe it, do you?"
"Alvin," said Kitty feebly.
"No, no, *no*! I'm sick of being talked out. I'm sick of being talked down to, of being dismissed as some crazy God Boy. I'm *sick* of being treated like a piece of *dirt*! And why? I used to think I deserved it. Maybe you were the Chosen Ones and I was just normal. But now I know the truth. Now I understand what's going on! You're all as racist and prejudiced and bitter as any raider! You treat me like dirt because I'm human, because I'm not special, because my DNA doesn't have a few extra bits and pieces! Well, maybe I don't have super powers, maybe I wasn't as badly treated as you four years ago, but I've done my fair amount of stuff since then. I save lives, I work to help people with all the small power I possess, because I believe - used to believe, that any life is worth saving. And that it's not just about the quantity of life, but the quality. I don't deny that that my faith may have been shaken, broken even. I don't deny that I'm having a little crisis at the moment. I certainly don't deny who I am, and what I feel. Unlike some of you!"
He turned back to Kurt, still lying prone in the sand, staring up at the priest in shock.
"But you're the one who disgusts me most of all," Alvin hissed, and somehow the bare-faced genuineness in his words quashed any comment. "And I've worked you out now. When I heard about you, when I first met you, I thought of you as a hero. I thought, 'there's a man who's dealt with prejudice all his life, and who forgives. There's a man who doesn't judge people by their genetics.' Well, was I wrong, because that's what that Robyn thing was about, wasn't it? I thought it was me, but it wasn't. If Logan, or Kitty, or anyone else done what I did, you would have forgiven them, but not me. Why? Because I'm human, and I understand that now. You watched your friends being killed by humans, and ever since then you've tried to protect Robyn from us. Even from me, when you thought I was a threat. You've never forgiven humanity for what it did to your fellow X-Men, and I understand that. But don't hate me for the way my genes are sequenced. And don't start going on about forgiveness and a better hope for the world until you're willing to live up to that dream yourself. Both ways."
He turned, then, talking at them all. "Now, since I'm only a stupid flatscan, who is obviously not worthy of the attention of such *great* mutants as yourselves, I'll be going. Good luck in looking after Pietro and Robyn. I'd stay for their sakes, but, as Logan so wonderfully pointed out, he's a far better doctor than I am."
Alvin turned on his heel and stalked off into the wilderness, not even bothering to look back over his shoulder at their gaping mouths and guilty expressions.
He had not walked too far when there was the sound of running feet behind him, and a fuzzy blue hand caught his shoulder.
"Wait," said a soft, familiar voice.
Alvin shook him off and kept walking. "Going to beat me up or scream at me or something?" he asked in a cold tone.
"Nein, I came... I want to apologise."
Alvin turned and looked at Kurt. The elf's eyes were wide with sincerity, and his tail lashed nervously behind him. But it wasn't enough. Not now. Too much had been said and done and felt for a simple soulful look to work anymore.
"A lot of what you said," Kurt went on, "well, I don't know. Maybe you're right. Maybe we've been treating you badly because you're human; even if we sometimes didn't... realise we were doing it. And that *is* wrong. As were my actions. I... I don't know if I felt the way I did because of your humanity. Maybe I did, deep down inside. But I do know I shouldn't. I *do* know you meant the best for Robyn, even though it didn't feel like it at the time. And I know that..." he took a deep breath, "I know that I shouldn't hide behind what happened four years ago. I shouldn't use that to justify what I do. You may not have superpowers, Alvin, but you're a dreamer, and a healer, and so perhaps the most important member of this team. We can't go on without you. So please, forgive us. Or at least forgive them, if you can't forgive me."
Kurt proffered a hand, and Alvin saw that it was trembling.
The man was silent for a while, thinking.
He couldn't. He wouldn't. He was hurting just as much as them, and refused to go back and be a punching bag for their convenience.
_Both ways._
Slowly, he raised his own arm, and shook hands with the mutant.
"Very well. All I ask is this; in the matters of healing, my decisions stand. And I want you to at least try to back me up."
"Ja," replied Kurt, nodding vehemently. Something tinkled, like glass shards slotting back together, but neither of them heard it. "I will do that. Danke. Mein Freund?"
Alvin smiled, feeling like, after a long time, he had regained a little piece of the dream cherished for so long. Goddess or not, a dream could stand. All it needed was people to prop it up every now and again.
Hand in hand, the mutant and the man walked back through the wasteland to their makeshift camp.
*******************
To Be Continued...
*******************