A/N ~ I have returned from an unplanned absence. For some reason, whenever I tried to open the JD file in Word, my computer crashed. Needless to say, I was rather worried, but my father's technological wizard of a friend seems to have fixed things, so I'm back to torture you all with an update. Also, I'm looking for people to go read and review an experimental fic I have up called 'Stop the Fic, I Want to Get Off!' Less than impressive title, I know, but I'm attempting to look into the intrigues of writing XME fiction, investigating clichés, character portrayal, and formulaic plots along the way. Hopefully I'm not too much on a soapbox, but then, I won't know unless people tell me.
Ice Princess ~ 'Spider-Man Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can...' Anybody else think that hyphen is redundant? Erik wasn't too quick on the uptake, no. I think a review from the chapter before last summed up the reason, though - a man and his grief are not easily parted. I suppose it's part of the human condition and inevitable slide into self-destruction showing itself, but I won't go into that here. Nobody wants to hear me ramble.
Hootild ~ Oh that Shakespeare had written things like that. Maybe then he wouldn't be such a pain in the - moving right along. Hoot-bard. Now there's an idea. Like a hoot-nanny, but not quite...
Silvervine ~ 'I wish I had started to read it later so I would not need to wait for the next chapter' - I'm beginning to get that feeling waiting for the things in my favourite stories section to get updated. Gonna chase after Allaine with a pitchfork if she doesn't update her Kim Possible fic soon.
Cheesy Monkey ~ Goblin, goblin, goblin... You're right, it *is* fun to say. ^_^
Gerri ~ I think you just knocked the Magneto vs. Erik conundrum squarely on the head. Kudos ^_^
DemonRogue13 ~ Why thank you very much. And thanks for taking the time to read the fic thus far, as I realise it's become a bit of a monster by this point.
Mickey ~ And another hearty thank you. ^_^
Wolviesfan ~ Bugger. Um, just pretend that the broken bones bit actually said 'ruptured organs', as I'm pretty sure that even his healing factor wouldn't save him from initial damage.
Tenshiamanda ~ Yes, poor Clive. I like dogs, so that decision was especially difficult. Watch for fallout in this chapter.
Ssam ~ I apologise for stealing you away from your family and friends for three days, but thank you for reading this. ^_^ Explanations regarding Rogue's power finally get addressed in this chapter (Shock! Horror! An actual loose end is being tied up!?!)
The Phantom ~ I love your overuse of upper case letters. Hee hee. And yes, Alvin rocks once again. Gotta love that guy, if for no other reason than his little fight scene allowed usage of the word 'whang'.
UnknownSource ~ Language! And what country are you in, as a matter of interest?
Springwarrior ~ Thanks. I liked that bit, too though I did worry it was sailing a little close to the wind. Cheesiness, y'know.
IDNRAIORITSIG ~ Had to shorten your pseudonym. Sorry. Actually, it's not much shorter, but the other one sounded like I was totting my own horn a little too much. Um, worshipping not necessary, but thanks for your comments anyway. It only took you an hour? Wow, you read fast. I'm impressed.
Ambrosia ~ Fear not, for this chapter comes mere hours after you lamented it not being there. Blame my computer. It's supposed to be new and improved. It's new, but... not improved. Bugger, where's my acronym thesaurus? Magnus Rex is a throwback to ancient Rome, wherein the Latin literally means 'great king'. Plus there's the side reference to Magneto's full name - Erik Magnus Lenscherr. Hence the throne comment. Cerebro II works via DNA codes, not mental signatures like Cerebro I - that's how Hank and Erik can use it. As far as I know, even in the comics nobody knows how old Mystique truly is. Like you say, shapeshifting equals an eternally youthful appearance.
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Thirty-fourth Fragment ~ Dystopia
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"Oh, there's gonna be a celebration in Des Moines tonight," sang Sneak with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, and somehow managing to be out of tune despite singing in a monotone.
Bairn snorted and passed him a glass of liquor - Mutie Town's finest, made from fermented and distilled potato skins. Mostly potato skins, anyway [1].
Sneak tossed it back and curled his lip disgustedly. "Bairn," he said tiredly, "that is absolutely vile."
Bairn just nodded, and gestured to where Scry had passed out. Imbibing alcohol had never been the clairvoyant's strong suit, and in Mutie Town the more disgusting a drink, the more potent its results.
"No, seriously, it tastes like semen." Sneak shrank in on himself when Bairn raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Or, uh, so I'd imagine."
Bairn shrugged and turned back to her own liquor, the level of which was declining in her shot glass (actually an old and unwashed ceramic mug, but who cared?) at a distinctly more dignified pace.
"What's the news from the prison compound, then?" Sneak asked.
Bairn looked at him in exasperation, and pointed at her throat.
"I was being facetious, dearest. Same again, if you please."
Bairn sloshed some more liquor into his glass - actually a glass this time, a wine glass from which the stem had snapped. A glass for those who drink to get drunk, because it couldn't be put down until it was empty.
"I just hate playing charades every time I ask you something, you know?" he admitted, once half of his shot was stomachward bound. "Still, I guess we're stuck with it unless your next mutation brings your vocal chords *back*."
Bairn shrugged again. Scry let out a small snore that was more musical than the spy's attempt at singing.
Sneak sighed, preparing himself for translation duty. "Very well. Once more unto the breach, dear friends. Are the new prisoners well-behaved?"
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"Kinda cozy, Spider-boy, hmm?" Wolfsbane breathed into Peter's ear.
Peter was so startled he fell off the wall and onto his head. "Yeah," he muttered resentfully, regaining his feet. "All the home comforts."
"Aw, there's always something to do," she smirked, winking over her shoulder at the glaring Dazzler.
The words 'like watch Magneto, maybe,' sparkled in the air.
"Not really, no." Wolfsbane frowned. "What is that, some kind of Zen bollocks?"
Erik had accepted the judgment that their attack warranted their captivity - at least temporarily - and had spent the entire period so far facing the corner, cross-legged. He took up a full fifth of the cramped cell sequestered inside what seemed to be an old warehouse slash prison.
Nobody answered, and it took Wolfsbane a full two minutes to get bored this time. She said as much, stretching and displaying her necklace of bruises.
That blue guy took care of you, didn't he? Dazzler noted snarkily.
"Huh. Guess so. I suppose you'll need to nurse me back to health," Wolfsbane replied, leaning into Dazzler flirtatiously. The other girl drew back contemptuously, as far as the walls would allow - approximately two and three-quarter centimetres.
At the front of the cell, Peter was pleading with a Jamie. "Come on, man, you *must* remember us," he said, spreading his hands.
"Nuh-uh," said the Jamie, grinning. "I'd remember if I'd seen *those* two before," he said, nodding towards the women. "I can't be the only one looking for a catfight to break out, can I?" he added, raising an eyebrow in the way that idiots think is witty.
"You really aren't our Jamie, are you?" said Peter in a weary voice, regarding him critically.
"Nope."
"Damn..."
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"Annoying, if not in immediate danger of instigating a prison riot. I see."
Bairn looked at Sneak disbelievingly. How did he get all that from a charade?
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"How are they?"
Layla brushed a loose strand of grey hair from her reddened face and exhaled noisily as she shut the door. "As well as can be expected. They took some nasty bumps and bruises, and no mistake. I'm good, but even I have my limits."
Kurt blinked, conscious of his own hurts in plain sight, and trying to draw his clothes over them before she saw and started fussing.
Layla, however, was more concerned with staring at the door she'd just closed on Pietro and Rogue. A thoughtful look played across her face, and she said nothing for several minutes.
So many, in fact, that Kurt's gaze began to wander.
After the battle, when Magneto and his lackeys were either led - or carried - away, those injured and their companions had all been taken to what he assumed had once been a hospital. Either that or junkies' heaven, judging by the large number of hypodermics and various other implements dotted about. Most rooms were thick with dust, indicating the place wasn't used much.
Kurt was still wondering whether that was a good or a bad thing.
Logan stood stiffly; not leaning against anything as was his usual habit, just inside another room with Kitty, Hope, Alvin and Raven. The children had been in Kurt's care across the way, but he'd broken away for just a second to see how the worst members of their party were doing. He could feel both Daisy and Ariel staring at him, burning holes in the fur on his back. Yet the sensation of knowing that Robyn *wasn't* looking hurt more. She hadn't moved from her spot in the corner since arriving, and refused to talk to anyone - even him.
Layla's voice startled Kurt from his ruminations, and he jolted back to her with a heavy blink. "Your friend, Quicksilver, is pretty much just exhausted - the poor dear. He was a bit of a silly-billy, running clean across town with that ankle of his. Didn't do it any good at all. Same with the girl. Maxed out their powers, so they have. Sleep's the best remedy for that, I always say. Still..."
"What?" Kurt caught the pensive note in her tone, and leaned forward accordingly. "Is there something else wrong with them?"
Layla sighed, and Kurt noticed that she seemed to have aged a little since going in to tend to their wounds. For a second he wondered how old she actually was, since using her healing ability accentuated the lines on her face and the grey in her hair. For all he knew, she might be the same age as him, falsely aged by tending to so many for so long.
"Not in the way you might think."
"Entschuldigung?"
She started at that, not used to hearing any language but English. "What? Oh, yes. Well, the girl - "
"Rogue."
"Yes, Rogue. Well, she's especially exhausted, poor darling, and I couldn't help but notice the similarities between her symptoms and those of the children hereabout. Y'know, those just coming into their powers?" She nodded, as if by doing so she'd implant the required knowledge into his brain.
Kurt narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"
"You're familiar with the concept of evolution, aren't you?"
He repressed the urge to give a barking laugh. "Fraulein, I'm the living *embodiment* of it."
"Well, it seems that the young missy has been doing just that. It's as if her powers have suddenly... changed. I wasn't able to talk to her before she dropped off into the Land of Nod, but your other friend, uh, Windswift? Quicksilver? Oh, I don't know what we're supposed to call him anymore. Anyway, he said something about a, uh... a lab?"
Kurt nodded grimly, his mind performing a few quick calculations. After what he'd happened upon in the Temple, and Rogue's strange behaviour out on the battlefield, it sort of made sense Pietro would know more about what had happened than anyone else. "Jawohl. Rogue was... she was in a mutant experimental lab for a long time. They... they did... *things* to her." He shivered; recalling the images he'd borne witness to when trapped in Rogue's psyche. "The scientists there were all top of their field, and expert geneticists. I suppose it's possible... they could've altered her powers. Rogue's ability means that if she touches anyone, skin on skin," he waggled his fingers for emphasis, "she absorbs their energy, part of their minds - and if they're a mutant, their abilities for a short time. But now it seems... she doesn't need to touch, only be close by."
Layla sighed, wrinkling her nose. "The poor dear. No wonder she was all in."
"Will she be okay?"
"Apart from what I've told you, her injuries were relatively minor and easy to take care of. Her exhaustion shouldn't be a problem now her body doesn't have to worry about healing itself. But her new powers... Natural evolution tends to fit things together nicely. Manmade... well, I can't rightly say."
Kurt frowned, not understanding.
"Take Pietro," she went on at his expression. "His power is speed, right enough? But he has things in his body that allow him to cope with that power. His metabolism is extra fast, his lungs and heart extra powerful, and his skin is tough enough to withstand air friction. But what if he didn't have those things? Then his first run would likely be his last. Whatever power your Rogue now has, she might just have the power and not the other necessary physical things to help her cope with it."
Kurt gulped.
"Then again, that could just be me worrying about nothing. Just... keep an eye on things, eh?"
"Zweifellos![2]" he agreed.
"So," Layla began packing away her things into her ever-present knitting basket, "what're your plans from here on in?"
Kurt shrugged. He really had no idea. They still needed to get to the West Coast. He wanted - no, *needed* to move out as soon as possible, and hoped that the recent defence off Mutie Town would stand them in good stead with its hierarchy.
However, the question was, even after what they'd done, would the Council let them leave?
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"No," Grasshopper said flatly, ichor crusted on his forehead like a badge.
"No?" repeated Kurt in almost the same tone of voice. Despair ran threads of exhaustion through his veins.
"Well," Grasshopper admitted, "I paraphrase. What the council's decision in fact was, was..." He paused, seemingly searching for the exact memory in the middle distance. "Oh yes, it was 'there is absolutely no way they are to be permitted to leave, under any circumstances.' Sorry," he concluded insincerely.
"Sorry won't get us to the West Coast, friend," Logan rumbled, sitting beside Kurt on the old and fading bleachers. They were the only two that had been allowed out of the old hospital, and even then only to meet with Grasshopper in the skeletal ruins of Des Moines's old High School. Their two 'guards' stood a little distance away, waiting patiently.
"Yes, well, life is harsh. Kill yourself or get over it," Grasshopper snapped. Kurt and Logan both bridled at the contempt lacing his remarks, but Grasshopper cut them off before they could finish. "I know you helped to save Mutie Town. I know that the citizens regard you less warily than they used to. I know that we owe you our thanks, maybe even our lives, and we do thank you. But," he spat ferociously, "that is not the *fucking* point!"
"What is the point then?" Kurt asked barrenly.
"The *point*," Grasshopper yelled, his voice beginning to buzz as it did when he raised it, "is that the Council say you cannot leave! I don't know why; I really don't care that much anymore." His voice slunk down to a more normal volume. "I should imagine that they don't want any more people learning about Mutie Town than already do. Frankly, I couldn't oppose them even if I was inclined to. I'm hardly irreplaceable. And they do a good job, for the most part. You won't find much opposition for them - or support for you, if you try to sneak by them."
"You can't seriously be tellin' me that you're still keepin' us here indefinitely," Logan said, voice dark.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Grasshopper said quietly, not looking at them but at the place just below his own throat where a silver chain was supposed to rest.
"Bitte, we *need* to leave. It's... it's a matter of life and death!"
"Excuse me?" He raised what passed for an eyebrow
Kurt drew in on himself, focussing on the splintering wood beneath his huddled feet. "That Goddess you hear tell of? Well... she's dying. I know her - used to know her. We knew her," he shook off Logan's reassuring hand," and we need to get to her before... we need to..."
For a second something lit up behind Grasshopper's dark eyes. Not that either of them noticed it, or could have understood its meaning if they had. "You need to say goodbye while the chance is still there."
Kurt sniffed. "Sort of. We were hoping to... to save her. At the very least, see her again. It's been so long... Vor ich gab oben Hoffnung einer langen Zeit, aber jetzt..."
Though he didn't understand all that was said, Grasshopper comprehended enough, and pulled himself to his feet with a sigh. "Okay, okay, I'll go talk to them. But be warned, I think your chances are zilch, and I don't hold out much hope for a special favour later if you use up your Brownie points now."
Kurt smiled, and for the first time since Grasshopper first met him, his gaze seemed slightly less sorrowful than usual. "Danke, Herr Grasshopper. And if you ever come to the Lands of New Hope, we'll be sure to welcome you with open arms."
"Yeah, whatever." Grasshopper gestured that Redeye and Bubbles should take the pair of mutants back to their holding place in the interim, and started down the bleachers.
He noticed Layla waving for him in a nearby building, and suppressed a groan as she caught his eye, thereby negating his excuse that he hadn't seen her. He had something to take care of first, and the healer was not first on his list of Things To Do.
He descended, mumbling profusely, "Bet I'd be about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit..."
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"I hear Grasshopper went a bit crazy after the fight," Sneak commented. He had managed to maintain an impressive facsimile of perfect verticality despite his massive intake of alcohol.
Bairn nodded sleepily; she was far more susceptible. Beside her, Scry just snored and gurgled softly, worry lines smoothed for a moment in blissful drunken slumber.
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Grasshopper continuously shrugged of Layla's attempts to heal him. "God, woman," he snapped, "I'm fine, dammit. I left something out there and I need to fetch it. I'll be all of ten fucking minutes."
"You watch your tongue around the children, Grasshopper," Layla scolded, ignoring his protests and laying her hands on the cracks in his carapace. In the distance, the sound of many voices rose in gentle mourning.
"What fucking children?" asked Grasshopper, incredulity shifting his voice up a half-octave.
"Well, there could be children here," Layla reasoned, working swift as she dared, given her low energy reserves. "And you don't want to get in the habit, in case there are some around next time."
"There's not going to be a fucki - OW! Dammit, woman!"
"Hold still, Grasshopper! I can't work if you fidget so!"
"I am the leader of Mutie Town! I can fidget if I damn well want to!" He paused, then continued in a more sedate fashion, "Not that I would, of course, because it's far too undignified for a man of my station."
"All done."
"All *done*?" he exclaimed, his earlier placidity vanishing instantly. "If it was that easy, what did you make all the goddam fuss about?" He cut his own sentence off, however, by beating a hasty retreat through the door of the building in which Layla had been treating him - the home of a mutual friend of theirs. Layla, therefore, had precisely no time in which to protest the hypocrisy of his complaint.
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"Where'd that goddam thing go?" muttered Grasshopper, scrabbling alone in the dust and rubble of the Bus Park where the fight had been.
He had been searching for approximately an hour now, and twilight was encroaching upon the yard and threatening to bring his hunt to a premature end. A thin stream of people had come and gone at the Temple, and the funeral of one Lance Alvers had concluded long before the silver speckles came out to play.
Grasshopper supposed he should have put in an appearance, but quickly shelved the idea, reasoning there was no need for his presence at the last rest of a guy he'd never known. And anyway, Bubbles and Redeye were quite capable of taking care of things on their own.
He was considering giving up when a glint of silver caught his eye. The thin chain had managed to slide halfway through the hubcap of a spare wheel, rusted and rotted to uselessness by now. A straggly, brownish weed shared the hole in which the chain now nestled.
"There you are," Grasshopper murmured warmly, hooking the end of the chain with one finger and pulling it out. "I wouldn't -" He stopped.
The ring, which he had worn on his necklace for the past four years, was not there.
With artificial calm at first, then with increasing desperation, he cast fruitlessly around nearby.
Nothing.
Wracked by tearless and silent sobs, he then crouched on the ground next to the wheel. He had rooted out the weed looking for the ring, and it hung crumpled and feeble from a fist. He overbalanced and toppled into the dust, still sobbing, where he lay for a couple of minutes until his shaking subsided.
It was replaced, shortly, by a buzz - a rasp that grew steadily more grating and loud. A burst of motion, of furious energy, and Grasshopper had returned to his feet. He drew in a deep breath, and the feel of it in his lungs was like breathing bile and ashes.
"*FUCKING*," he screamed, "*BASTARDS*!"
He grabbed the wheel and flung it as far as he could - a not inconsiderable distance. He smashed the windows of an abandoned school bus, one by one until the floor of the bus glittered like a constellation. He snapped the door off. The last of the pneumatics wheezed pathetically and provoked a sickly giggle. He battered the wheels with the door until the sharp edge where it had sheared from its support pierced the decaying rubber and the tires blew out noisily. He grabbed the side of the bus and tried to heave it over, but that was past the point his strength could help him.
After five minutes of straining, face still dry from eyes that could not cry, he sat back down, defeated, and wrapped the chain that had once held the wedding ring of his dead wife around his hand. He strung it between his fingers and stared, memorising each link and each stain, until the very last strains of sunset turned it into a black silhouette against a midnight blue sky.
Grasshopper toyed briefly with the silver chain, and then draped it forlornly over the wrist of one of his left hands. It glared back sullenly, each of the tiny eyes glittering at him in tearful accusation.
He then headed purposefully to the Council, to speak further on the decision they had made on Kurt's party.
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"Liebchen?"
Robyn sat in the corner, desolate and silent. She didn't even turn when Kurt came back in from Lance's interment, nor when said her name.
Daisy and Ariel huddled on the bed. Close, but not too close.
Kurt shuffled closer to the sibling he'd raised for four years, heart splitting when she consciously swivelled her head away from him. "Kleines, please," he said softly. "At least look at me, even if you don't want to talk."
Still she stayed her head, staring solidly at the grimy wall. In her hands she held a short length of chewed leather, studded with tiny metal spikes. For some reason Pietro had salvaged it along with much other stuff back in Bayville whilst packing for their trip, and the two girls had subsequently found it and given it over to Clive when it proved big enough for the puppy's neck. It was stained in several places; two of the spikes coloured silvery red.
Kurt sighed; sitting back on his haunches and letting his tail make pictures in the dust on the floor. He knew Logan was standing in the doorway, as he had been ever since they came back. It had been Kurt's idea to call in on the children first, before retiring to their own respective beds, such as they were.
On the mattress-less bedframe, Daisy shivered. Ariel tried to wrap one arm around her to keep her warm, but she shoved him off and moved away to sit with her back against the headboard, reptilian eyes huge in the oncoming dusk. Logan spared her a strange glance, but said nothing.
The silence was stifling.
Then, all at once it broke with a whisper.
"Couldn't save her."
Kurt blinked. "Was, Kleines?"
"She tried to save us from that nasty lady, but nobody could save her." Robyn stroked the leather collar with the tip of one finger, tail limp next to her like a lifeless snake. "Why not, Kurti?"
Kurt swallowed and cleared his throat. How to explain the workings and unfairness of life and death to a five year old? She'd seen so much in her short life - all of them had. Yet Robyn had never come quite so close to death before as this day. He'd kept her safe in Bayville, teaching her to hide away from hunters and dead bodies alike.
Kurt remembered how she'd cradled Clive in her arms on the makeshift battlefield, calling to her pet as the puppy went cold. Daisy had been there, too, but she'd seen more of this than Robyn. Daisy had seen men die in scraps when she was just a baby in arms, and grown up surrounded by violence and hatred tenfold what he'd protected Robyn from. Ariel was an ex-slave, who had seen other slaves die when they couldn't work anymore, and witnessed their bodies flung about when angry owners came asking Trader Dan for refunds.
Disease, sickness, murder, debauchery.
Strange that the passing of one little dog could spark such a reaction in them all.
"Liebes, sometimes... sometimes they can't be saved. Sometimes there's nothing you can do, no matter how much you want to. Or try to."
"Layla tried. Didn't work." A sniff. "Kurti, she was all split open. I could smell her. She was... she was frightened, Kurti. She was frightened of dying. I was frightened of her dying."
Kurt suddenly felt very guilty about all the bad feeling he'd been nursing against Clive since Robyn fell sick. He'd shunned her, but Clive had only been a puppy. A baby. A child. She'd died trying to protect the young ones from Wolfsbane. Logan would call it a hero's death or some such malarky. Kurt just called it a waste.
"Liebes," he said, not knowing what to say. "I... I'm sorry..."
"Why? You didn't do anything." Robyn finally turned, cheek-fur wet with tears. "Kurti, I felt her die. She was all shuddery, and then she went all still. I was holding her, Kurti. She took so long... I held her..." She loosed a sob, and sniffed loud and long.
Kurt spread his arms wide and she scrabbled into them. Together, they rocked on the bare floorboards, tails intertwining as she emptied her tears against his shirt.
Logan looked on, and despite his cold features, he couldn't help a sudden twang in the region of his heart. And somehow, that gave him a sense of hope, that whatever he'd seen, and whatever he'd seen others go through, he still knew how to feel.
Perhaps there was hope for humanity yet.
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Peter had taken to the ceiling to avoid the forced distance of Dazzler and the all-too-nearness of Wolfsbane. The cell wasn't any less cramped for his efforts, but he had to try something.
"How's the weather up there, Spider?" Wolfsbane asked, tilting her head back, not coincidentally showing off her considerable cleavage in the process. Her minimal clothing had not survived the fight unscathed.
He looked out the cell, determined not to give into the temptation. "Too cramped." He narrowed his eyes, then looked over at their leader. "Magneto, what's our plan?"
"Plan?" came the hollow voice, body giving no indication of movement. "We wait. We wait for the Council's decision. Then we leave."
"But what if the Council forces us to stay?"
Magneto turned his head slightly to Dazzler and raised a finger to his lips. Dazzler nodded and dampened the sound around the cell so no talk would escape.
"Their decision is irrelevant to whether we leave or not. They will only decide how many have to die if they get in our way."
Peter was glad for the mask that still covered his face. He didn't want Magneto to see the look of shock and betrayal. "But you said - "
"I promised no more death for my family, Spider-Man. Any fool who gets in the way of that promise will be shown no mercy."
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Grasshopper walked the familiar path to an old building in the very centre of Mutie Town. It was rickety, dirt-encrusted, and barely standing.
He opened the door and approached the Council, looking around the spacious room with the table arranged in a half-moon. He bowed, and then rose, manner impeccable, but somehow jerky in his disjointed body.
"What is the will of the Council? The outsiders wish to leave, to continue their quest to the Land of the Goddess."
Silence.
"Yes, I know you've already said they have to stay, but they helped save the town from Magneto and his soldiers."
Not a sound.
"Very well. I'll tell them, though I don't think they'll be overly pleased."
Grasshopper bowed again and turned to leave. The door closed behind him, leaving behind an empty room, with only a single set of footprints breaking the layers of dust covering every surface.
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To Be Continued...
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[1] Altogether now...
[2] Certainly!
Ice Princess ~ 'Spider-Man Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can...' Anybody else think that hyphen is redundant? Erik wasn't too quick on the uptake, no. I think a review from the chapter before last summed up the reason, though - a man and his grief are not easily parted. I suppose it's part of the human condition and inevitable slide into self-destruction showing itself, but I won't go into that here. Nobody wants to hear me ramble.
Hootild ~ Oh that Shakespeare had written things like that. Maybe then he wouldn't be such a pain in the - moving right along. Hoot-bard. Now there's an idea. Like a hoot-nanny, but not quite...
Silvervine ~ 'I wish I had started to read it later so I would not need to wait for the next chapter' - I'm beginning to get that feeling waiting for the things in my favourite stories section to get updated. Gonna chase after Allaine with a pitchfork if she doesn't update her Kim Possible fic soon.
Cheesy Monkey ~ Goblin, goblin, goblin... You're right, it *is* fun to say. ^_^
Gerri ~ I think you just knocked the Magneto vs. Erik conundrum squarely on the head. Kudos ^_^
DemonRogue13 ~ Why thank you very much. And thanks for taking the time to read the fic thus far, as I realise it's become a bit of a monster by this point.
Mickey ~ And another hearty thank you. ^_^
Wolviesfan ~ Bugger. Um, just pretend that the broken bones bit actually said 'ruptured organs', as I'm pretty sure that even his healing factor wouldn't save him from initial damage.
Tenshiamanda ~ Yes, poor Clive. I like dogs, so that decision was especially difficult. Watch for fallout in this chapter.
Ssam ~ I apologise for stealing you away from your family and friends for three days, but thank you for reading this. ^_^ Explanations regarding Rogue's power finally get addressed in this chapter (Shock! Horror! An actual loose end is being tied up!?!)
The Phantom ~ I love your overuse of upper case letters. Hee hee. And yes, Alvin rocks once again. Gotta love that guy, if for no other reason than his little fight scene allowed usage of the word 'whang'.
UnknownSource ~ Language! And what country are you in, as a matter of interest?
Springwarrior ~ Thanks. I liked that bit, too though I did worry it was sailing a little close to the wind. Cheesiness, y'know.
IDNRAIORITSIG ~ Had to shorten your pseudonym. Sorry. Actually, it's not much shorter, but the other one sounded like I was totting my own horn a little too much. Um, worshipping not necessary, but thanks for your comments anyway. It only took you an hour? Wow, you read fast. I'm impressed.
Ambrosia ~ Fear not, for this chapter comes mere hours after you lamented it not being there. Blame my computer. It's supposed to be new and improved. It's new, but... not improved. Bugger, where's my acronym thesaurus? Magnus Rex is a throwback to ancient Rome, wherein the Latin literally means 'great king'. Plus there's the side reference to Magneto's full name - Erik Magnus Lenscherr. Hence the throne comment. Cerebro II works via DNA codes, not mental signatures like Cerebro I - that's how Hank and Erik can use it. As far as I know, even in the comics nobody knows how old Mystique truly is. Like you say, shapeshifting equals an eternally youthful appearance.
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Thirty-fourth Fragment ~ Dystopia
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"Oh, there's gonna be a celebration in Des Moines tonight," sang Sneak with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, and somehow managing to be out of tune despite singing in a monotone.
Bairn snorted and passed him a glass of liquor - Mutie Town's finest, made from fermented and distilled potato skins. Mostly potato skins, anyway [1].
Sneak tossed it back and curled his lip disgustedly. "Bairn," he said tiredly, "that is absolutely vile."
Bairn just nodded, and gestured to where Scry had passed out. Imbibing alcohol had never been the clairvoyant's strong suit, and in Mutie Town the more disgusting a drink, the more potent its results.
"No, seriously, it tastes like semen." Sneak shrank in on himself when Bairn raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Or, uh, so I'd imagine."
Bairn shrugged and turned back to her own liquor, the level of which was declining in her shot glass (actually an old and unwashed ceramic mug, but who cared?) at a distinctly more dignified pace.
"What's the news from the prison compound, then?" Sneak asked.
Bairn looked at him in exasperation, and pointed at her throat.
"I was being facetious, dearest. Same again, if you please."
Bairn sloshed some more liquor into his glass - actually a glass this time, a wine glass from which the stem had snapped. A glass for those who drink to get drunk, because it couldn't be put down until it was empty.
"I just hate playing charades every time I ask you something, you know?" he admitted, once half of his shot was stomachward bound. "Still, I guess we're stuck with it unless your next mutation brings your vocal chords *back*."
Bairn shrugged again. Scry let out a small snore that was more musical than the spy's attempt at singing.
Sneak sighed, preparing himself for translation duty. "Very well. Once more unto the breach, dear friends. Are the new prisoners well-behaved?"
*******************
"Kinda cozy, Spider-boy, hmm?" Wolfsbane breathed into Peter's ear.
Peter was so startled he fell off the wall and onto his head. "Yeah," he muttered resentfully, regaining his feet. "All the home comforts."
"Aw, there's always something to do," she smirked, winking over her shoulder at the glaring Dazzler.
The words 'like watch Magneto, maybe,' sparkled in the air.
"Not really, no." Wolfsbane frowned. "What is that, some kind of Zen bollocks?"
Erik had accepted the judgment that their attack warranted their captivity - at least temporarily - and had spent the entire period so far facing the corner, cross-legged. He took up a full fifth of the cramped cell sequestered inside what seemed to be an old warehouse slash prison.
Nobody answered, and it took Wolfsbane a full two minutes to get bored this time. She said as much, stretching and displaying her necklace of bruises.
That blue guy took care of you, didn't he? Dazzler noted snarkily.
"Huh. Guess so. I suppose you'll need to nurse me back to health," Wolfsbane replied, leaning into Dazzler flirtatiously. The other girl drew back contemptuously, as far as the walls would allow - approximately two and three-quarter centimetres.
At the front of the cell, Peter was pleading with a Jamie. "Come on, man, you *must* remember us," he said, spreading his hands.
"Nuh-uh," said the Jamie, grinning. "I'd remember if I'd seen *those* two before," he said, nodding towards the women. "I can't be the only one looking for a catfight to break out, can I?" he added, raising an eyebrow in the way that idiots think is witty.
"You really aren't our Jamie, are you?" said Peter in a weary voice, regarding him critically.
"Nope."
"Damn..."
*******************
"Annoying, if not in immediate danger of instigating a prison riot. I see."
Bairn looked at Sneak disbelievingly. How did he get all that from a charade?
*******************
"How are they?"
Layla brushed a loose strand of grey hair from her reddened face and exhaled noisily as she shut the door. "As well as can be expected. They took some nasty bumps and bruises, and no mistake. I'm good, but even I have my limits."
Kurt blinked, conscious of his own hurts in plain sight, and trying to draw his clothes over them before she saw and started fussing.
Layla, however, was more concerned with staring at the door she'd just closed on Pietro and Rogue. A thoughtful look played across her face, and she said nothing for several minutes.
So many, in fact, that Kurt's gaze began to wander.
After the battle, when Magneto and his lackeys were either led - or carried - away, those injured and their companions had all been taken to what he assumed had once been a hospital. Either that or junkies' heaven, judging by the large number of hypodermics and various other implements dotted about. Most rooms were thick with dust, indicating the place wasn't used much.
Kurt was still wondering whether that was a good or a bad thing.
Logan stood stiffly; not leaning against anything as was his usual habit, just inside another room with Kitty, Hope, Alvin and Raven. The children had been in Kurt's care across the way, but he'd broken away for just a second to see how the worst members of their party were doing. He could feel both Daisy and Ariel staring at him, burning holes in the fur on his back. Yet the sensation of knowing that Robyn *wasn't* looking hurt more. She hadn't moved from her spot in the corner since arriving, and refused to talk to anyone - even him.
Layla's voice startled Kurt from his ruminations, and he jolted back to her with a heavy blink. "Your friend, Quicksilver, is pretty much just exhausted - the poor dear. He was a bit of a silly-billy, running clean across town with that ankle of his. Didn't do it any good at all. Same with the girl. Maxed out their powers, so they have. Sleep's the best remedy for that, I always say. Still..."
"What?" Kurt caught the pensive note in her tone, and leaned forward accordingly. "Is there something else wrong with them?"
Layla sighed, and Kurt noticed that she seemed to have aged a little since going in to tend to their wounds. For a second he wondered how old she actually was, since using her healing ability accentuated the lines on her face and the grey in her hair. For all he knew, she might be the same age as him, falsely aged by tending to so many for so long.
"Not in the way you might think."
"Entschuldigung?"
She started at that, not used to hearing any language but English. "What? Oh, yes. Well, the girl - "
"Rogue."
"Yes, Rogue. Well, she's especially exhausted, poor darling, and I couldn't help but notice the similarities between her symptoms and those of the children hereabout. Y'know, those just coming into their powers?" She nodded, as if by doing so she'd implant the required knowledge into his brain.
Kurt narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"
"You're familiar with the concept of evolution, aren't you?"
He repressed the urge to give a barking laugh. "Fraulein, I'm the living *embodiment* of it."
"Well, it seems that the young missy has been doing just that. It's as if her powers have suddenly... changed. I wasn't able to talk to her before she dropped off into the Land of Nod, but your other friend, uh, Windswift? Quicksilver? Oh, I don't know what we're supposed to call him anymore. Anyway, he said something about a, uh... a lab?"
Kurt nodded grimly, his mind performing a few quick calculations. After what he'd happened upon in the Temple, and Rogue's strange behaviour out on the battlefield, it sort of made sense Pietro would know more about what had happened than anyone else. "Jawohl. Rogue was... she was in a mutant experimental lab for a long time. They... they did... *things* to her." He shivered; recalling the images he'd borne witness to when trapped in Rogue's psyche. "The scientists there were all top of their field, and expert geneticists. I suppose it's possible... they could've altered her powers. Rogue's ability means that if she touches anyone, skin on skin," he waggled his fingers for emphasis, "she absorbs their energy, part of their minds - and if they're a mutant, their abilities for a short time. But now it seems... she doesn't need to touch, only be close by."
Layla sighed, wrinkling her nose. "The poor dear. No wonder she was all in."
"Will she be okay?"
"Apart from what I've told you, her injuries were relatively minor and easy to take care of. Her exhaustion shouldn't be a problem now her body doesn't have to worry about healing itself. But her new powers... Natural evolution tends to fit things together nicely. Manmade... well, I can't rightly say."
Kurt frowned, not understanding.
"Take Pietro," she went on at his expression. "His power is speed, right enough? But he has things in his body that allow him to cope with that power. His metabolism is extra fast, his lungs and heart extra powerful, and his skin is tough enough to withstand air friction. But what if he didn't have those things? Then his first run would likely be his last. Whatever power your Rogue now has, she might just have the power and not the other necessary physical things to help her cope with it."
Kurt gulped.
"Then again, that could just be me worrying about nothing. Just... keep an eye on things, eh?"
"Zweifellos![2]" he agreed.
"So," Layla began packing away her things into her ever-present knitting basket, "what're your plans from here on in?"
Kurt shrugged. He really had no idea. They still needed to get to the West Coast. He wanted - no, *needed* to move out as soon as possible, and hoped that the recent defence off Mutie Town would stand them in good stead with its hierarchy.
However, the question was, even after what they'd done, would the Council let them leave?
*******************
"No," Grasshopper said flatly, ichor crusted on his forehead like a badge.
"No?" repeated Kurt in almost the same tone of voice. Despair ran threads of exhaustion through his veins.
"Well," Grasshopper admitted, "I paraphrase. What the council's decision in fact was, was..." He paused, seemingly searching for the exact memory in the middle distance. "Oh yes, it was 'there is absolutely no way they are to be permitted to leave, under any circumstances.' Sorry," he concluded insincerely.
"Sorry won't get us to the West Coast, friend," Logan rumbled, sitting beside Kurt on the old and fading bleachers. They were the only two that had been allowed out of the old hospital, and even then only to meet with Grasshopper in the skeletal ruins of Des Moines's old High School. Their two 'guards' stood a little distance away, waiting patiently.
"Yes, well, life is harsh. Kill yourself or get over it," Grasshopper snapped. Kurt and Logan both bridled at the contempt lacing his remarks, but Grasshopper cut them off before they could finish. "I know you helped to save Mutie Town. I know that the citizens regard you less warily than they used to. I know that we owe you our thanks, maybe even our lives, and we do thank you. But," he spat ferociously, "that is not the *fucking* point!"
"What is the point then?" Kurt asked barrenly.
"The *point*," Grasshopper yelled, his voice beginning to buzz as it did when he raised it, "is that the Council say you cannot leave! I don't know why; I really don't care that much anymore." His voice slunk down to a more normal volume. "I should imagine that they don't want any more people learning about Mutie Town than already do. Frankly, I couldn't oppose them even if I was inclined to. I'm hardly irreplaceable. And they do a good job, for the most part. You won't find much opposition for them - or support for you, if you try to sneak by them."
"You can't seriously be tellin' me that you're still keepin' us here indefinitely," Logan said, voice dark.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Grasshopper said quietly, not looking at them but at the place just below his own throat where a silver chain was supposed to rest.
"Bitte, we *need* to leave. It's... it's a matter of life and death!"
"Excuse me?" He raised what passed for an eyebrow
Kurt drew in on himself, focussing on the splintering wood beneath his huddled feet. "That Goddess you hear tell of? Well... she's dying. I know her - used to know her. We knew her," he shook off Logan's reassuring hand," and we need to get to her before... we need to..."
For a second something lit up behind Grasshopper's dark eyes. Not that either of them noticed it, or could have understood its meaning if they had. "You need to say goodbye while the chance is still there."
Kurt sniffed. "Sort of. We were hoping to... to save her. At the very least, see her again. It's been so long... Vor ich gab oben Hoffnung einer langen Zeit, aber jetzt..."
Though he didn't understand all that was said, Grasshopper comprehended enough, and pulled himself to his feet with a sigh. "Okay, okay, I'll go talk to them. But be warned, I think your chances are zilch, and I don't hold out much hope for a special favour later if you use up your Brownie points now."
Kurt smiled, and for the first time since Grasshopper first met him, his gaze seemed slightly less sorrowful than usual. "Danke, Herr Grasshopper. And if you ever come to the Lands of New Hope, we'll be sure to welcome you with open arms."
"Yeah, whatever." Grasshopper gestured that Redeye and Bubbles should take the pair of mutants back to their holding place in the interim, and started down the bleachers.
He noticed Layla waving for him in a nearby building, and suppressed a groan as she caught his eye, thereby negating his excuse that he hadn't seen her. He had something to take care of first, and the healer was not first on his list of Things To Do.
He descended, mumbling profusely, "Bet I'd be about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit..."
*******************
"I hear Grasshopper went a bit crazy after the fight," Sneak commented. He had managed to maintain an impressive facsimile of perfect verticality despite his massive intake of alcohol.
Bairn nodded sleepily; she was far more susceptible. Beside her, Scry just snored and gurgled softly, worry lines smoothed for a moment in blissful drunken slumber.
*******************
Grasshopper continuously shrugged of Layla's attempts to heal him. "God, woman," he snapped, "I'm fine, dammit. I left something out there and I need to fetch it. I'll be all of ten fucking minutes."
"You watch your tongue around the children, Grasshopper," Layla scolded, ignoring his protests and laying her hands on the cracks in his carapace. In the distance, the sound of many voices rose in gentle mourning.
"What fucking children?" asked Grasshopper, incredulity shifting his voice up a half-octave.
"Well, there could be children here," Layla reasoned, working swift as she dared, given her low energy reserves. "And you don't want to get in the habit, in case there are some around next time."
"There's not going to be a fucki - OW! Dammit, woman!"
"Hold still, Grasshopper! I can't work if you fidget so!"
"I am the leader of Mutie Town! I can fidget if I damn well want to!" He paused, then continued in a more sedate fashion, "Not that I would, of course, because it's far too undignified for a man of my station."
"All done."
"All *done*?" he exclaimed, his earlier placidity vanishing instantly. "If it was that easy, what did you make all the goddam fuss about?" He cut his own sentence off, however, by beating a hasty retreat through the door of the building in which Layla had been treating him - the home of a mutual friend of theirs. Layla, therefore, had precisely no time in which to protest the hypocrisy of his complaint.
*******************
"Where'd that goddam thing go?" muttered Grasshopper, scrabbling alone in the dust and rubble of the Bus Park where the fight had been.
He had been searching for approximately an hour now, and twilight was encroaching upon the yard and threatening to bring his hunt to a premature end. A thin stream of people had come and gone at the Temple, and the funeral of one Lance Alvers had concluded long before the silver speckles came out to play.
Grasshopper supposed he should have put in an appearance, but quickly shelved the idea, reasoning there was no need for his presence at the last rest of a guy he'd never known. And anyway, Bubbles and Redeye were quite capable of taking care of things on their own.
He was considering giving up when a glint of silver caught his eye. The thin chain had managed to slide halfway through the hubcap of a spare wheel, rusted and rotted to uselessness by now. A straggly, brownish weed shared the hole in which the chain now nestled.
"There you are," Grasshopper murmured warmly, hooking the end of the chain with one finger and pulling it out. "I wouldn't -" He stopped.
The ring, which he had worn on his necklace for the past four years, was not there.
With artificial calm at first, then with increasing desperation, he cast fruitlessly around nearby.
Nothing.
Wracked by tearless and silent sobs, he then crouched on the ground next to the wheel. He had rooted out the weed looking for the ring, and it hung crumpled and feeble from a fist. He overbalanced and toppled into the dust, still sobbing, where he lay for a couple of minutes until his shaking subsided.
It was replaced, shortly, by a buzz - a rasp that grew steadily more grating and loud. A burst of motion, of furious energy, and Grasshopper had returned to his feet. He drew in a deep breath, and the feel of it in his lungs was like breathing bile and ashes.
"*FUCKING*," he screamed, "*BASTARDS*!"
He grabbed the wheel and flung it as far as he could - a not inconsiderable distance. He smashed the windows of an abandoned school bus, one by one until the floor of the bus glittered like a constellation. He snapped the door off. The last of the pneumatics wheezed pathetically and provoked a sickly giggle. He battered the wheels with the door until the sharp edge where it had sheared from its support pierced the decaying rubber and the tires blew out noisily. He grabbed the side of the bus and tried to heave it over, but that was past the point his strength could help him.
After five minutes of straining, face still dry from eyes that could not cry, he sat back down, defeated, and wrapped the chain that had once held the wedding ring of his dead wife around his hand. He strung it between his fingers and stared, memorising each link and each stain, until the very last strains of sunset turned it into a black silhouette against a midnight blue sky.
Grasshopper toyed briefly with the silver chain, and then draped it forlornly over the wrist of one of his left hands. It glared back sullenly, each of the tiny eyes glittering at him in tearful accusation.
He then headed purposefully to the Council, to speak further on the decision they had made on Kurt's party.
*******************
"Liebchen?"
Robyn sat in the corner, desolate and silent. She didn't even turn when Kurt came back in from Lance's interment, nor when said her name.
Daisy and Ariel huddled on the bed. Close, but not too close.
Kurt shuffled closer to the sibling he'd raised for four years, heart splitting when she consciously swivelled her head away from him. "Kleines, please," he said softly. "At least look at me, even if you don't want to talk."
Still she stayed her head, staring solidly at the grimy wall. In her hands she held a short length of chewed leather, studded with tiny metal spikes. For some reason Pietro had salvaged it along with much other stuff back in Bayville whilst packing for their trip, and the two girls had subsequently found it and given it over to Clive when it proved big enough for the puppy's neck. It was stained in several places; two of the spikes coloured silvery red.
Kurt sighed; sitting back on his haunches and letting his tail make pictures in the dust on the floor. He knew Logan was standing in the doorway, as he had been ever since they came back. It had been Kurt's idea to call in on the children first, before retiring to their own respective beds, such as they were.
On the mattress-less bedframe, Daisy shivered. Ariel tried to wrap one arm around her to keep her warm, but she shoved him off and moved away to sit with her back against the headboard, reptilian eyes huge in the oncoming dusk. Logan spared her a strange glance, but said nothing.
The silence was stifling.
Then, all at once it broke with a whisper.
"Couldn't save her."
Kurt blinked. "Was, Kleines?"
"She tried to save us from that nasty lady, but nobody could save her." Robyn stroked the leather collar with the tip of one finger, tail limp next to her like a lifeless snake. "Why not, Kurti?"
Kurt swallowed and cleared his throat. How to explain the workings and unfairness of life and death to a five year old? She'd seen so much in her short life - all of them had. Yet Robyn had never come quite so close to death before as this day. He'd kept her safe in Bayville, teaching her to hide away from hunters and dead bodies alike.
Kurt remembered how she'd cradled Clive in her arms on the makeshift battlefield, calling to her pet as the puppy went cold. Daisy had been there, too, but she'd seen more of this than Robyn. Daisy had seen men die in scraps when she was just a baby in arms, and grown up surrounded by violence and hatred tenfold what he'd protected Robyn from. Ariel was an ex-slave, who had seen other slaves die when they couldn't work anymore, and witnessed their bodies flung about when angry owners came asking Trader Dan for refunds.
Disease, sickness, murder, debauchery.
Strange that the passing of one little dog could spark such a reaction in them all.
"Liebes, sometimes... sometimes they can't be saved. Sometimes there's nothing you can do, no matter how much you want to. Or try to."
"Layla tried. Didn't work." A sniff. "Kurti, she was all split open. I could smell her. She was... she was frightened, Kurti. She was frightened of dying. I was frightened of her dying."
Kurt suddenly felt very guilty about all the bad feeling he'd been nursing against Clive since Robyn fell sick. He'd shunned her, but Clive had only been a puppy. A baby. A child. She'd died trying to protect the young ones from Wolfsbane. Logan would call it a hero's death or some such malarky. Kurt just called it a waste.
"Liebes," he said, not knowing what to say. "I... I'm sorry..."
"Why? You didn't do anything." Robyn finally turned, cheek-fur wet with tears. "Kurti, I felt her die. She was all shuddery, and then she went all still. I was holding her, Kurti. She took so long... I held her..." She loosed a sob, and sniffed loud and long.
Kurt spread his arms wide and she scrabbled into them. Together, they rocked on the bare floorboards, tails intertwining as she emptied her tears against his shirt.
Logan looked on, and despite his cold features, he couldn't help a sudden twang in the region of his heart. And somehow, that gave him a sense of hope, that whatever he'd seen, and whatever he'd seen others go through, he still knew how to feel.
Perhaps there was hope for humanity yet.
*******************
Peter had taken to the ceiling to avoid the forced distance of Dazzler and the all-too-nearness of Wolfsbane. The cell wasn't any less cramped for his efforts, but he had to try something.
"How's the weather up there, Spider?" Wolfsbane asked, tilting her head back, not coincidentally showing off her considerable cleavage in the process. Her minimal clothing had not survived the fight unscathed.
He looked out the cell, determined not to give into the temptation. "Too cramped." He narrowed his eyes, then looked over at their leader. "Magneto, what's our plan?"
"Plan?" came the hollow voice, body giving no indication of movement. "We wait. We wait for the Council's decision. Then we leave."
"But what if the Council forces us to stay?"
Magneto turned his head slightly to Dazzler and raised a finger to his lips. Dazzler nodded and dampened the sound around the cell so no talk would escape.
"Their decision is irrelevant to whether we leave or not. They will only decide how many have to die if they get in our way."
Peter was glad for the mask that still covered his face. He didn't want Magneto to see the look of shock and betrayal. "But you said - "
"I promised no more death for my family, Spider-Man. Any fool who gets in the way of that promise will be shown no mercy."
*******************
Grasshopper walked the familiar path to an old building in the very centre of Mutie Town. It was rickety, dirt-encrusted, and barely standing.
He opened the door and approached the Council, looking around the spacious room with the table arranged in a half-moon. He bowed, and then rose, manner impeccable, but somehow jerky in his disjointed body.
"What is the will of the Council? The outsiders wish to leave, to continue their quest to the Land of the Goddess."
Silence.
"Yes, I know you've already said they have to stay, but they helped save the town from Magneto and his soldiers."
Not a sound.
"Very well. I'll tell them, though I don't think they'll be overly pleased."
Grasshopper bowed again and turned to leave. The door closed behind him, leaving behind an empty room, with only a single set of footprints breaking the layers of dust covering every surface.
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To Be Continued...
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[1] Altogether now...
[2] Certainly!