Disclaimer It's all Marvel's. No money made. Suing will profit no one.
Want? Take ... Have ... just lemme know where it's going :)
Thank you again to everyone that's taken the time to review / threaten my personal health :P Also, to Mitchy, for maken I spel gud.
cool-chick-rae: I'm having problems thinking of any Rogue incarnation driving that doesn't make me slightly scared o_0
Rai: Too late, v.scared. Somehow updated through my terror :P
ishandahalf: I'm not sure if I updated fast enough to qualify as a bunny on crack. Ferret on amphetamines, maybe?
- o -
"Explain to me, again, precisely what happened." The low timbered voice was far, far too calm and Lance ran a dry tongue over his lips with growing unease.
"It was last night, after eight and before midnight. He, uh, he was attacked on the top floor and then ran downstairs and..."
He trailed away under the level stare of Magneto. Did the man never blink? It wasn't that there was anger in his gaze; he could have dealt with that. No, there was nothing there at all. It was like he was looking through a microscope and Lance was just one more amoeba in the pile.
"Magneto." Finally, the piercing eyes turned from him as Mystique spoke. She continued into the askance-filled hush. "I believe I may be able to shed some light on Pietro's abductors."
"Really?" There was a wealth of emphasis in the one word, somehow making it a scornful threat and a controlled suggestion of anger all at once.
"A man applied for a position at the school that I had advertised through . certain channels. His name was Grey-Crow."
Lance watched the two in the silence that followed, they seemed to be weighing a conversation between them, making all the moves and seeing the implications of the information in their heads before they spoke. Magneto was the first to speak, with a nod.
"So."
"Yes."
"You will find Essex, you will deal with him and you will return my son. Or I will be forced to intervene. Do not force me to intervene."
The shadows around the cloaked figure flickered, giving him an impossible height. Lance knew it was only his mind that Magneto grew so tall and dangerous, but that didn't help. He curved his shoulders, trying to draw his lanky frame in on itself to make as small a target as possible as a primeval portion of his brain told him to scurry into the nearest burrow and escape the predator.
Toad, fully in touch with his inner prey, was already under the couch, wide eyes just visible in the gloom.
"NOW."
Even Mystique flinched. Lance managed to avoid a reactionary strike with an earthquake, tripling his headache as he aborted the power he had directed into the ground back into himself. Better seeing double than bringing their temporary home down around their ears. Not to mention the endless amount Magneto would kill him.
Then the man, the myth, the legend was gone. And Toad slowly crawled out from his hole. "Who's Grey-Crow?"
"Yeah, and who's Essex."
He'd almost managed to forget Fred was there; somehow he'd managed to keep so still he'd just become another piece of extremely large furniture during the entire thing.
"John Grey-Crow, also known as Scalphunter. He's the leader of Nathanial Essex's Marauders. I couldn't imagine why Sinister would be so bold as to let himself be known to me so obviously. He wanted us to know he was here."
Her eyes widened briefly, and she began to laugh. It was a softly mocking sound that built to a half-maddened giggle, before she abruptly spoke with no trace of the slight hysterics.
"It would seem we are in need of the X-Fools cooperation again. Avalanche, go to the Institute and apprise them of our situation. I doubt it will come as a shock. Be quite sure to tell them of Magneto's involvement should we fail to extract Quicksilver. Feel free to remind them, as many times as you deem necessary, that this is a man able to reverse the polarity of the earth at a whim."
Lance nodded jerkily and turned towards the door at something close to a run, glad to be given something to do, glad to be gone from a clearly unhinged Mystique. Mostly, glad to be given the chance to forget there was a man able to reverse the polarity of the earth at a whim.
-o-
Scott looked up into the slightly pale face of a young Asian man; he couldn't be much older than himself. Then, it registered that said young Asian man was in living Technicolor, rather than shades of red, and conspicuously not being in receipt of his optic blasts.
"You opened your eyes." Whoever he was, he sounded obscurely reproachful.
"And, yet, you're not flying back thirty feet, unconscious."
There was a snort, presumably from Sabretooth, which the other ignored with a suddenly brighter smile.
"Scrambler. I scramble. I can make mutants way stronger, or switch powers around, or reverse them or just stop them working at all. Cool, huh?"
"Well, from where I'm lying, not knocking you all out and escaping, no. Not really. Unless you feel like going the 'way stronger' route." Scott tried to keep his tone as even and level as he could. The guy didn't have the feel of the usual crazed maniacs they seemed to attract; maybe it would be worth trying to make friends.
"Shut it, you know better than to make friendly with the rats." The low growl of warning from Sabertooth killed that hope as Scrambler gave an awkward little shrug and fixed his eyes ahead, now ignoring the occupant of the stretcher.
Scott took the moment to look around him, trying to focus over the overwhelming desire to shout for joy despite his situation. Colours he'd barely remembered from childhood were back once more; it was more the pity they seemed to have entered a massive doorway into some kind of complex and the panorama was mostly limited to washed-out greys.
Surgical strip lighting ran along the ceiling, too bright, too white, chasing out any shadows from the long steel lined corridor. Craning his head up and around, he was just able to make out the edges of another stretcher behind him. It was carried by a woman at the fore, though he couldn't make out the form of the one at the rear. The shimmer of red hair tumbling over the side of the other stretcher was visible briefly before he had to settle back, or risk breaking his neck. Jean, and definitely unconscious or she would have been talking.
The sound of an explosion further along the corridor made him tense against the restraints. Heat washed over him and there was ringing in his ears. Slowly he began to pick out the sound of shouting, and an echoing run. Smaller explosions peppered closer, along the ceiling, and, one by one, the lights began to go out.
Holding his head up, Scott was just able to make out a stream of pink arcing over him and towards the entrance. It could only be their resident thief. He didn't pause to wonder what he was doing there, could only think of stopping the Cajun before he fell into Scrambler's range.
"Not this way!"
A large, hairy, hand covered his mouth and the clawed nails digging painfully into the side of his head discouraged him from trying to bite. His warning had come too late, he could only watch as Gambit come into his view and the card he had been holding abruptly lost it's charge.
"Scrambler?"
"LeBeau?"
"Aren't you dead!?"
Both spoke the last in unison as the two stared at each other in shock for a scant second before Gambit was jerked away from Scott's view with a cut off yelp and the sharp slap of flesh striking flesh. The procession resumed, only the soft sound of the wheels of the gurney over the slick floor and the shuffle of those walking giving any relief to the almost oppressive quiet.
The hand was removed as something sharp jabbed into his arm. He opened his mouth to protest, but even his teeth felt suddenly numb, let alone his tongue. The fight to stay conscious was brief, and fixed.
- o -
"Lance, you're, like, hyperventilating."
Kitty watched her would-be-suitor squirming in Logan's grip. He was talking a mile a minute and even Xavier was frowning as he tried to make sense of the torrent of words.
"Kitty is correct, stop talking. Breathe."
Lance obeyed, drawing a ragged breath of air to refill his lungs. As that felt good, and seemed to help with the spots in front of his eyes, he took another. Oh yeah, that was the stuff.
"Pietro. Essex. Magneto."
Logan tightened his grip on the back of the young man's shirt, causing the taller Lance to rise onto tiptoe with a strangled sound as the material cut across his enjoyment of oxygen.
"Logan, release him."
Slowly, and with a sense of reluctance, Wolverine relaxed his hold. Xavier manoeuvred his wheel chair before the boy and studied him. It was so easy to forget that these were just children. Avalanche was undoubtedly powerful and, unless his course could be altered, undoubtedly growing into a fine terrorist for Magneto. But, now, at this moment, he was still in high school, he was a child, and he was scared out of his wits. He sighed and shook his head.
"Lance, will you allow me to read your mind? Just the surface thoughts, it will be far more expedient."
Lance's eyes glazed with incomprehension. "Wha'?"
"Quicker, it will be quicker."
The boy's eyes narrowed and he shook his head slightly. "No way, old man. Get your monkey off my back and maybe I'll get the chance to tell you."
Xavier kept the twitch of a smile from his lips and nodded sombrely. Lance was released entirely and he made a show of dusting off his clothing as Logan crossed his arms with an expression of amusement. If the shaking in his hands were ignored, the lad was pulling himself together remarkably well.
"The Boarding House got attacked, Pietro got took. Magneto's gonna do something about it unless we get him back. Mystique sent me to let you know, and remind you he can reverse the parity of the Earth on a whine." Lance took a moment to look around at the debris of the mansion. "Guess you geeks got hit too, huh?"
There was a pause while those listening to him substituted the appropriate words, then a series of quiet coughs. He frowned.
"What?"
The moment of amusement passed into a sombre quiet. Rogue, who had been unmoving in the corner, sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, finally spoke. Her voice was tinged with a bitter sarcasm he'd thought she'd lost since joining the X-Freaks.
"Y'all come runnin' on over here every time there's a problem, sugah, not to him. Why is that?" She surged away from the wall, tight faced and tone more vicious than even Kitty could remember. "Ah think if he could do somethin', he'd've done it. But he can't, 'cause all he can do is the big things, the little things got him whupped. He can't find his son, or Scott, or Jean, or, or, anyone else. So we're all you've got ta stop him reversin' your personal polarity."
Lance fell back before her, nervously watching her gloved hands. When she began to peel one away, Ororo stood and spoke calmly. "Rogue, we are all concerned for the welfare of those missing, but I do not believe you will gain further information that way."
Rogue's eyes blazed as she rounded on Storm. The woman gave a shocked cry, reflected by a rattle of thunder above. The white strip of the girl's hair was now a strong auburn, the shade of Jean's. Her eyes glowed red and her hands glowed a violently crackling pink.
"Rogue!"
Xavier reached for her mind and found it a whirl of impressions, none of them the girl herself, but an amalgam of those she had touched. Then the ghost-like shield covered her and, despite the evidence of his eyes, she was no longer in the room.
"They're scared and they're in the dark and you're doing nothing to help us!"
"We are." He strove to create a grounding she could fight her way back to with his voice alone. "Rogue, listen to me. Where are you?"
"It's not far, couldn't have been out for that long. Professor, why can't you hear me? Scott won't wake up and Pietro won't shut up and Remy won't speak to me at all."
"Jean?"
"Professor? Professor! Where are you?"
"Jean, we're coming. Stay calm. Can you see anything that might give an indication of your location?"
"We're underground, I was unconscious when they bought us."
The link, or whatever it had been, cut. Rogue swayed, the lock of hair returning to white, her eyes resettling to their normal shade. The glow around her hands was the last to die and, when at last it did, she pitched forward.
Without thinking, Lance caught her a split second before Evan managed to gain a purchase on her arms. Gently, they lowered her to the ground.
"That wasn't telepathy, Chuck." Logan's voice was flat; it was a statement, not a question.
"I don't know what it was. But we know, at least, they are still alive. And, they are together." Xavier looked around the ring of suddenly enlivened faces, only Evan's turned away as he attempted to revive Rogue without touching her skin. Lance stood a little back, trying to pretend he never made the effort to help at all.
"They are alive." He repeated, strongly. "And we will find them."
"Ja!" Kurt punched the air exuberantly, and then seemed to regret it as he leant somewhat woozily against Kitty.
Enthusiasm was short lived as the Wolverine drew a sharp breath. With the sensors down, his nose was the closest thing to a proximity alert they had while the Professor was too engaged to make mental scans. There was the scent of a familiar perfume on the breeze.
"We got incoming."
"Hello?"
The voice came hesitantly as Abigail picked her way over the rubble and into the thin light to stand next to the large form of Doctor McCoy.
Want? Take ... Have ... just lemme know where it's going :)
Thank you again to everyone that's taken the time to review / threaten my personal health :P Also, to Mitchy, for maken I spel gud.
cool-chick-rae: I'm having problems thinking of any Rogue incarnation driving that doesn't make me slightly scared o_0
Rai: Too late, v.scared. Somehow updated through my terror :P
ishandahalf: I'm not sure if I updated fast enough to qualify as a bunny on crack. Ferret on amphetamines, maybe?
- o -
"Explain to me, again, precisely what happened." The low timbered voice was far, far too calm and Lance ran a dry tongue over his lips with growing unease.
"It was last night, after eight and before midnight. He, uh, he was attacked on the top floor and then ran downstairs and..."
He trailed away under the level stare of Magneto. Did the man never blink? It wasn't that there was anger in his gaze; he could have dealt with that. No, there was nothing there at all. It was like he was looking through a microscope and Lance was just one more amoeba in the pile.
"Magneto." Finally, the piercing eyes turned from him as Mystique spoke. She continued into the askance-filled hush. "I believe I may be able to shed some light on Pietro's abductors."
"Really?" There was a wealth of emphasis in the one word, somehow making it a scornful threat and a controlled suggestion of anger all at once.
"A man applied for a position at the school that I had advertised through . certain channels. His name was Grey-Crow."
Lance watched the two in the silence that followed, they seemed to be weighing a conversation between them, making all the moves and seeing the implications of the information in their heads before they spoke. Magneto was the first to speak, with a nod.
"So."
"Yes."
"You will find Essex, you will deal with him and you will return my son. Or I will be forced to intervene. Do not force me to intervene."
The shadows around the cloaked figure flickered, giving him an impossible height. Lance knew it was only his mind that Magneto grew so tall and dangerous, but that didn't help. He curved his shoulders, trying to draw his lanky frame in on itself to make as small a target as possible as a primeval portion of his brain told him to scurry into the nearest burrow and escape the predator.
Toad, fully in touch with his inner prey, was already under the couch, wide eyes just visible in the gloom.
"NOW."
Even Mystique flinched. Lance managed to avoid a reactionary strike with an earthquake, tripling his headache as he aborted the power he had directed into the ground back into himself. Better seeing double than bringing their temporary home down around their ears. Not to mention the endless amount Magneto would kill him.
Then the man, the myth, the legend was gone. And Toad slowly crawled out from his hole. "Who's Grey-Crow?"
"Yeah, and who's Essex."
He'd almost managed to forget Fred was there; somehow he'd managed to keep so still he'd just become another piece of extremely large furniture during the entire thing.
"John Grey-Crow, also known as Scalphunter. He's the leader of Nathanial Essex's Marauders. I couldn't imagine why Sinister would be so bold as to let himself be known to me so obviously. He wanted us to know he was here."
Her eyes widened briefly, and she began to laugh. It was a softly mocking sound that built to a half-maddened giggle, before she abruptly spoke with no trace of the slight hysterics.
"It would seem we are in need of the X-Fools cooperation again. Avalanche, go to the Institute and apprise them of our situation. I doubt it will come as a shock. Be quite sure to tell them of Magneto's involvement should we fail to extract Quicksilver. Feel free to remind them, as many times as you deem necessary, that this is a man able to reverse the polarity of the earth at a whim."
Lance nodded jerkily and turned towards the door at something close to a run, glad to be given something to do, glad to be gone from a clearly unhinged Mystique. Mostly, glad to be given the chance to forget there was a man able to reverse the polarity of the earth at a whim.
-o-
Scott looked up into the slightly pale face of a young Asian man; he couldn't be much older than himself. Then, it registered that said young Asian man was in living Technicolor, rather than shades of red, and conspicuously not being in receipt of his optic blasts.
"You opened your eyes." Whoever he was, he sounded obscurely reproachful.
"And, yet, you're not flying back thirty feet, unconscious."
There was a snort, presumably from Sabretooth, which the other ignored with a suddenly brighter smile.
"Scrambler. I scramble. I can make mutants way stronger, or switch powers around, or reverse them or just stop them working at all. Cool, huh?"
"Well, from where I'm lying, not knocking you all out and escaping, no. Not really. Unless you feel like going the 'way stronger' route." Scott tried to keep his tone as even and level as he could. The guy didn't have the feel of the usual crazed maniacs they seemed to attract; maybe it would be worth trying to make friends.
"Shut it, you know better than to make friendly with the rats." The low growl of warning from Sabertooth killed that hope as Scrambler gave an awkward little shrug and fixed his eyes ahead, now ignoring the occupant of the stretcher.
Scott took the moment to look around him, trying to focus over the overwhelming desire to shout for joy despite his situation. Colours he'd barely remembered from childhood were back once more; it was more the pity they seemed to have entered a massive doorway into some kind of complex and the panorama was mostly limited to washed-out greys.
Surgical strip lighting ran along the ceiling, too bright, too white, chasing out any shadows from the long steel lined corridor. Craning his head up and around, he was just able to make out the edges of another stretcher behind him. It was carried by a woman at the fore, though he couldn't make out the form of the one at the rear. The shimmer of red hair tumbling over the side of the other stretcher was visible briefly before he had to settle back, or risk breaking his neck. Jean, and definitely unconscious or she would have been talking.
The sound of an explosion further along the corridor made him tense against the restraints. Heat washed over him and there was ringing in his ears. Slowly he began to pick out the sound of shouting, and an echoing run. Smaller explosions peppered closer, along the ceiling, and, one by one, the lights began to go out.
Holding his head up, Scott was just able to make out a stream of pink arcing over him and towards the entrance. It could only be their resident thief. He didn't pause to wonder what he was doing there, could only think of stopping the Cajun before he fell into Scrambler's range.
"Not this way!"
A large, hairy, hand covered his mouth and the clawed nails digging painfully into the side of his head discouraged him from trying to bite. His warning had come too late, he could only watch as Gambit come into his view and the card he had been holding abruptly lost it's charge.
"Scrambler?"
"LeBeau?"
"Aren't you dead!?"
Both spoke the last in unison as the two stared at each other in shock for a scant second before Gambit was jerked away from Scott's view with a cut off yelp and the sharp slap of flesh striking flesh. The procession resumed, only the soft sound of the wheels of the gurney over the slick floor and the shuffle of those walking giving any relief to the almost oppressive quiet.
The hand was removed as something sharp jabbed into his arm. He opened his mouth to protest, but even his teeth felt suddenly numb, let alone his tongue. The fight to stay conscious was brief, and fixed.
- o -
"Lance, you're, like, hyperventilating."
Kitty watched her would-be-suitor squirming in Logan's grip. He was talking a mile a minute and even Xavier was frowning as he tried to make sense of the torrent of words.
"Kitty is correct, stop talking. Breathe."
Lance obeyed, drawing a ragged breath of air to refill his lungs. As that felt good, and seemed to help with the spots in front of his eyes, he took another. Oh yeah, that was the stuff.
"Pietro. Essex. Magneto."
Logan tightened his grip on the back of the young man's shirt, causing the taller Lance to rise onto tiptoe with a strangled sound as the material cut across his enjoyment of oxygen.
"Logan, release him."
Slowly, and with a sense of reluctance, Wolverine relaxed his hold. Xavier manoeuvred his wheel chair before the boy and studied him. It was so easy to forget that these were just children. Avalanche was undoubtedly powerful and, unless his course could be altered, undoubtedly growing into a fine terrorist for Magneto. But, now, at this moment, he was still in high school, he was a child, and he was scared out of his wits. He sighed and shook his head.
"Lance, will you allow me to read your mind? Just the surface thoughts, it will be far more expedient."
Lance's eyes glazed with incomprehension. "Wha'?"
"Quicker, it will be quicker."
The boy's eyes narrowed and he shook his head slightly. "No way, old man. Get your monkey off my back and maybe I'll get the chance to tell you."
Xavier kept the twitch of a smile from his lips and nodded sombrely. Lance was released entirely and he made a show of dusting off his clothing as Logan crossed his arms with an expression of amusement. If the shaking in his hands were ignored, the lad was pulling himself together remarkably well.
"The Boarding House got attacked, Pietro got took. Magneto's gonna do something about it unless we get him back. Mystique sent me to let you know, and remind you he can reverse the parity of the Earth on a whine." Lance took a moment to look around at the debris of the mansion. "Guess you geeks got hit too, huh?"
There was a pause while those listening to him substituted the appropriate words, then a series of quiet coughs. He frowned.
"What?"
The moment of amusement passed into a sombre quiet. Rogue, who had been unmoving in the corner, sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, finally spoke. Her voice was tinged with a bitter sarcasm he'd thought she'd lost since joining the X-Freaks.
"Y'all come runnin' on over here every time there's a problem, sugah, not to him. Why is that?" She surged away from the wall, tight faced and tone more vicious than even Kitty could remember. "Ah think if he could do somethin', he'd've done it. But he can't, 'cause all he can do is the big things, the little things got him whupped. He can't find his son, or Scott, or Jean, or, or, anyone else. So we're all you've got ta stop him reversin' your personal polarity."
Lance fell back before her, nervously watching her gloved hands. When she began to peel one away, Ororo stood and spoke calmly. "Rogue, we are all concerned for the welfare of those missing, but I do not believe you will gain further information that way."
Rogue's eyes blazed as she rounded on Storm. The woman gave a shocked cry, reflected by a rattle of thunder above. The white strip of the girl's hair was now a strong auburn, the shade of Jean's. Her eyes glowed red and her hands glowed a violently crackling pink.
"Rogue!"
Xavier reached for her mind and found it a whirl of impressions, none of them the girl herself, but an amalgam of those she had touched. Then the ghost-like shield covered her and, despite the evidence of his eyes, she was no longer in the room.
"They're scared and they're in the dark and you're doing nothing to help us!"
"We are." He strove to create a grounding she could fight her way back to with his voice alone. "Rogue, listen to me. Where are you?"
"It's not far, couldn't have been out for that long. Professor, why can't you hear me? Scott won't wake up and Pietro won't shut up and Remy won't speak to me at all."
"Jean?"
"Professor? Professor! Where are you?"
"Jean, we're coming. Stay calm. Can you see anything that might give an indication of your location?"
"We're underground, I was unconscious when they bought us."
The link, or whatever it had been, cut. Rogue swayed, the lock of hair returning to white, her eyes resettling to their normal shade. The glow around her hands was the last to die and, when at last it did, she pitched forward.
Without thinking, Lance caught her a split second before Evan managed to gain a purchase on her arms. Gently, they lowered her to the ground.
"That wasn't telepathy, Chuck." Logan's voice was flat; it was a statement, not a question.
"I don't know what it was. But we know, at least, they are still alive. And, they are together." Xavier looked around the ring of suddenly enlivened faces, only Evan's turned away as he attempted to revive Rogue without touching her skin. Lance stood a little back, trying to pretend he never made the effort to help at all.
"They are alive." He repeated, strongly. "And we will find them."
"Ja!" Kurt punched the air exuberantly, and then seemed to regret it as he leant somewhat woozily against Kitty.
Enthusiasm was short lived as the Wolverine drew a sharp breath. With the sensors down, his nose was the closest thing to a proximity alert they had while the Professor was too engaged to make mental scans. There was the scent of a familiar perfume on the breeze.
"We got incoming."
"Hello?"
The voice came hesitantly as Abigail picked her way over the rubble and into the thin light to stand next to the large form of Doctor McCoy.