Disclaimer- Yes. That's it. I own them ALL!!! Bwahahahaha!!!
First they came for the Jews and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the Communists and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the trade unionists and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me.
-Martin Niemoller
Chapter Nine- Fear
Four years. Four hellish years he had been trapped here. Four years of pain, of misery, of fear. Enough was enough.
Pietro was barely conscious as the two agents dragged him, his feet scraping limply across the floor. He was too tired...too tired. His head lulled back, his mouth was wide open. He was so thirsty.
They entered a room, put him on a table and strapped him down securely.
Oh, God. Please. Stop. Please get me out of here. Please, please, please.
But he knew that would not happen. He had lost his faith in God a long time ago. Long before he joined the Brotherhood.
'Is this what Father felt like when they had him in Auschwitz?'
He tried to struggle, but the straps were too tight. He tried to struggle more, this time with more panic. He would not budge. The only thing he could move was his head. His skin could feel the bite of the cool air; it was painful.
Pietro turned his head to face his left; his arm was bare and skinny. His eyes widened as he saw a syringe come closer and closer to the skin.
"Oh, please, please no," he moaned. The needle entered the skin. Pietro did not have the energy to scream his fear.
He felt something enter his body. It was like acid, coursing through his veins. His temples throbbed, and he felt his face and neck flush. He started convulsing, except he couldn't move anywhere.
Oh God. Please let it stop. Please let it stop.
His eyelids suddenly felt like lead, and they began to droop down, no matter how hard he protested. He felt high, dizzy. He felt ecstasy course through his body, and he never felt so good in his life.
But then a pain unimaginable hit him. His chest hurt, and he could not stop flinching, although he could not move. He felt pain shoot up his left arm. He felt the perspiration drip down from his forehead and down his face and into his hair.
Oh my God, am I having a heart attack?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Magneto looked at Cerebro. He had been working with Charles for the better part of the past two years. There was more of a chance he would find his son if he worked with his one-time enemy/friend.
Much as he didn't realize, he couldn't loose another child. It would ruin him; make him delusional with revenge. Very deep down he cared for his son. His only son.
Another reason was that he knew, just somehow knew, that there would another thing like the Holocaust. First the Jews. Then the Communists. Then the trade unionists. Now the mutants. He knew it all along and he had tried to warn the others but no, they kept believing their dream that humans and mutants could live together in peace.
"Damn it, Charles!" he cried out in frustration, banging his fist on the table, "It's been four years! Where the hell can they be?"
Charles shook his head and sighed. "Patience, Magnus, patience."
Magneto growled, "Patience? I'm surprised I haven't strangled anybody for this long! Damn patience!"
The corners of Charles's lips quirked up slightly. "Patience is a virtue, Magnus, not a burden."
"Be quiet." Magneto muttered darkly.
The door opened. In walked a pretty Asian woman with long purple hair and some kind of leotard.
"Good evening, Betsy," Charles greeted. She nodded.
"Do you want me to take over, Professor?" she asked in a British accent.
"Yes, thank you Betsy," he said, taking the Cerebro helmet off and reversing his wheelchair. "I'm rather weary from it, I'm afraid."
She nodded again and pulled up a chair. Placing the helmet on, she began hitting buttons. "I will be alright alone with it, Professor. Don't worry."
Charles nodded. "Come then, Magnus. I have a taste for tea, and you do too."
Magneto scowled. "I knew I should have brought my helmet. But nooo, you said 'trust me'."
"What? I know you have a taste for tea. You were projecting. I did not look into your mind willingly, Magnus."
"I was not projecting!" Magneto hissed vehemently as the both of them exited.
Betsy shook her head. Really, that Magneto thought he was an all-powerful god or something. But she knew he wasn't. He tried to show it by not sleeping or eating in front of anybody else, and the Professor saying that the man had a taste for tea rather ruined it all.
"Poor chap," she murmured to herself.
And she sat there for hours, working alone to find the mutants. Suddenly though, the doors opened again. It was Angel.
"Hello, Angel," she said formally, not even bothering to check if it was him or not. She was a telepath, anyways.
He stopped walking for a moment, and then hesitantly started walking to her again.
"The Professor said you can stop for the night," he said coldly. They really didn't like each other at all.
"I'll be done in an hour, Angel."
"You can't do this all by yourself either. You're not so powerful as to find them all!" he snapped at her. She swiveled around in the chair, and stared at him with cool eyes.
"You just don't like me because I walked in on you when you were in just your skivvies." She stated, smirking slightly. His cheeks reddened slightly then he turned sharply on his heel and left. Betsy chuckled to herself and turned back to the screen.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Betsy entered the dining room when she was done with her research. The Professor looked at her questionably but she shook her head, sitting down in her spot next to Cyclops at the table.
"Please pass the rolls," she asked Gambit, who was sitting at her left.
He grabbed the basket and handed it to her. "Here y' go p'tite."
She gave him a flirty smile. "Thank you so much, Remy," she said, giving a longer drawl to his name. His eyes sparked and he smirked back. Rogue scowled at the Brit.
"Sure t'ing, p'tite," he drawled back, his voice laced with sexuality although he was just being playful and didn't mean any of it.
"Scott, could you pass me those mashed potatoes?" she asked Scott sweetly, squeezing his knee. He jumped, blushing, and did what he was told. Angel scowled at her from down the table.
The Brotherhood was also there. Instead of the pseudo enemies they had been, the X-Men and the Brotherhood had sort of become reluctant allies. There were humans out there that hated them both more than they hated each other.
John, however, really didn't seem to care. He piled his plate with a bunch of food, examined the steak, and then took out his Zippo lighter, hovering a flame above the steak for a few minutes. When he was done, he then made the flame transform into a little dog, then had it rip up the green lettuce, not burning it because it was wet.
"Doy, doy, lettuce!" he murmured to himself, only concentrating on the flame and not the others around him. Wanda gave him an annoyed look from across the table and extinguished it with her own powers. John's head snapped up.
"Wot was that foah?" he asked.
"You're not going to set another fire, Pyro!" she hissed at him. John looked a bit sheepish.
"I could awlways fix it..." he trailed off.
"That's not what you did the last time you set a fire in the kitchen," she retorted, "You ran around like a lunatic screaming, 'Call the fire department, call the fire department!'"
"I did nawt!" he said in defense.
"You did it the last *twelve* times!" she said incredulously, not believing that he would deny such a thing. "You were too afraid to extinguish it by yourself!"
John scowled and slumped in his seat, refusing to look at anybody else.
"See, I told you so," Wanda said as she ate a piece of her steak.
"Brat."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"That's what I thought."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Conner McCormick looked around. The corridors were dark, and one could hardly see. He stepped up next to the cell, in front of the solid wall of the bars.
"Psst," he hissed. The breathing seemed to stop for only a moment. "Psst, Toad."
There was a quiet scuffling, and a figure appeared cautiously at the bars. "Who's there?"
"It's me," Conner whispered. "I'm going to take you to a room. I need to tell you something."
"Alright," the Toad whispered back, although a bit suspiciously. Conner, as silently as he could, unlocked the door and Toad stepped out, looking around him.
"Nobody's 'ere. At least, not around 'ere. They're probably sleeping, but I c'n avoid cameras." He hissed in Toad's ear, and her grabbed Toad by the arms. Toad gave him a withering glare.
"So as not ta look suspicious. Ye got it? Jus' follow along." The Toad had no choice but to obey. Conner locked the cell back up.
Silently, they stealthily walked down the corridor, Conner looking around dark corners at first before turning. Finally he stopped at a door, looked around cautiously, then rapped on it quietly four times then twisted the knob, letting himself in.
There were seven other agents inside. Toad instantly froze, gaping at McCormick. Conner gave him a reassuring smile and pointed to a chair.
"It's alright. Sit." He ordered. Toad reluctantly did so.
"Toad, these are the other agents that don't believe Trask's cause." He told him.
"Agent Allison Crawp, Agent Dan Hooper, Agent Henry Gild, Agent Marie Cosentino, Agent Anthony Thompson, and Agent Frita Gutierrez." Conner pointed to each one.
"Yeah?" Toad asked. "What's the deal?"
"You want to get out of here?" Gutierrez asked coldly.
Toad froze and looked at her. Slowly, he nodded.
"Listen and listen carefully," she said in a low voice. He looked at her, preparing himself to listen like he never listened in his life.
"Thursday night, that is when Trask and many others will not be here. McCormick will be by your cell, putting you back in. You will fight him. Show some sign of a struggle as not to look suspicious. Make sure you knock him unconscious. Got it?" Gutierrez told him. Toad nodded hastily.
"You will take the keys from him. Unlock as many cells as you can. Pietro Maximoff is down further from you on the ground floor. You will find him with a mutant known as Jean Grey," Toad's eyes widened in shock, "Tell the other mutants to just knock as many agents as they can if they run into any. Not to kill them unless absolutely necessary. Then, on the third floor, is Stryker's office. He is barely here. He will have the master key to the collars. It is small and a bronze color, with an orange sticker on it. Take it and use it. You got this?" Toad nodded once again.
"We would have you do this tomorrow on Tuesday, but Thursday seemed better," Allison Crawp cut in. "But we thought you would want to escape with your friend. Unfortunately, he is in no condition to do anything like this at the moment."
"What? What happened to him?" Toad asked in a panicked voice.
"Trask injected him with something. I don't know what, but I suppose it was meant to do something with his heart, since that's what it did. Gave him a heart attack."
"What!" Toad cried, springing from his seat. Conner jumped to his side and forced him back into the seat.
"Shut the fuck up!" he hissed, earning a disapproving glare from Crawp, "Ye dinnae have ta do that!"
"But what if he dies!" Toad wailed quietly.
"El vivirá,*" Gutierrez muttered.
Toad looked around desperately. They were all giving him grim looks. Finally, he settled on asking a question.
"Why me? Why do you want me to do all this?" he asked shakily.
"You seem to have the potential to be a leader," Agent Marie Cosentino said.
"But-but," Toad stammered incredulously, "Pietro and Lance were always the leaders! And Jean Grey is a leader for her team! I'm just a follower. I'm not even that smart!"
Marie gave him a tiny smile, "Your wrong. Have you ever bothered to check your grade? Besides the high absentee and the detentions, you have done well on almost every assignment, especially in technology."
"Okay, okay. I'll do it. But this better work."
"It has to. Just try your best."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hey! How bout that chapter? Toad's going to get his chance to shine! When? I don't know. Well, actually I do, but you don't. Read and review! They keep me alive an' kickin'!
Thanks for reviewing- sPoOkZ13412, I Am The Anonymous Reviewer, crazyspaceystracey, la cour de belles fleurs, Wind Rider 2000, Pauline L., rosie, Krys Xanthina, zephyr, and Officially *Obsessed* with Pyro. Hope you keep reading this! R&R!!!
First they came for the Jews and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the Communists and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist. Then they came for the trade unionists and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me.
-Martin Niemoller
Chapter Nine- Fear
Four years. Four hellish years he had been trapped here. Four years of pain, of misery, of fear. Enough was enough.
Pietro was barely conscious as the two agents dragged him, his feet scraping limply across the floor. He was too tired...too tired. His head lulled back, his mouth was wide open. He was so thirsty.
They entered a room, put him on a table and strapped him down securely.
Oh, God. Please. Stop. Please get me out of here. Please, please, please.
But he knew that would not happen. He had lost his faith in God a long time ago. Long before he joined the Brotherhood.
'Is this what Father felt like when they had him in Auschwitz?'
He tried to struggle, but the straps were too tight. He tried to struggle more, this time with more panic. He would not budge. The only thing he could move was his head. His skin could feel the bite of the cool air; it was painful.
Pietro turned his head to face his left; his arm was bare and skinny. His eyes widened as he saw a syringe come closer and closer to the skin.
"Oh, please, please no," he moaned. The needle entered the skin. Pietro did not have the energy to scream his fear.
He felt something enter his body. It was like acid, coursing through his veins. His temples throbbed, and he felt his face and neck flush. He started convulsing, except he couldn't move anywhere.
Oh God. Please let it stop. Please let it stop.
His eyelids suddenly felt like lead, and they began to droop down, no matter how hard he protested. He felt high, dizzy. He felt ecstasy course through his body, and he never felt so good in his life.
But then a pain unimaginable hit him. His chest hurt, and he could not stop flinching, although he could not move. He felt pain shoot up his left arm. He felt the perspiration drip down from his forehead and down his face and into his hair.
Oh my God, am I having a heart attack?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Magneto looked at Cerebro. He had been working with Charles for the better part of the past two years. There was more of a chance he would find his son if he worked with his one-time enemy/friend.
Much as he didn't realize, he couldn't loose another child. It would ruin him; make him delusional with revenge. Very deep down he cared for his son. His only son.
Another reason was that he knew, just somehow knew, that there would another thing like the Holocaust. First the Jews. Then the Communists. Then the trade unionists. Now the mutants. He knew it all along and he had tried to warn the others but no, they kept believing their dream that humans and mutants could live together in peace.
"Damn it, Charles!" he cried out in frustration, banging his fist on the table, "It's been four years! Where the hell can they be?"
Charles shook his head and sighed. "Patience, Magnus, patience."
Magneto growled, "Patience? I'm surprised I haven't strangled anybody for this long! Damn patience!"
The corners of Charles's lips quirked up slightly. "Patience is a virtue, Magnus, not a burden."
"Be quiet." Magneto muttered darkly.
The door opened. In walked a pretty Asian woman with long purple hair and some kind of leotard.
"Good evening, Betsy," Charles greeted. She nodded.
"Do you want me to take over, Professor?" she asked in a British accent.
"Yes, thank you Betsy," he said, taking the Cerebro helmet off and reversing his wheelchair. "I'm rather weary from it, I'm afraid."
She nodded again and pulled up a chair. Placing the helmet on, she began hitting buttons. "I will be alright alone with it, Professor. Don't worry."
Charles nodded. "Come then, Magnus. I have a taste for tea, and you do too."
Magneto scowled. "I knew I should have brought my helmet. But nooo, you said 'trust me'."
"What? I know you have a taste for tea. You were projecting. I did not look into your mind willingly, Magnus."
"I was not projecting!" Magneto hissed vehemently as the both of them exited.
Betsy shook her head. Really, that Magneto thought he was an all-powerful god or something. But she knew he wasn't. He tried to show it by not sleeping or eating in front of anybody else, and the Professor saying that the man had a taste for tea rather ruined it all.
"Poor chap," she murmured to herself.
And she sat there for hours, working alone to find the mutants. Suddenly though, the doors opened again. It was Angel.
"Hello, Angel," she said formally, not even bothering to check if it was him or not. She was a telepath, anyways.
He stopped walking for a moment, and then hesitantly started walking to her again.
"The Professor said you can stop for the night," he said coldly. They really didn't like each other at all.
"I'll be done in an hour, Angel."
"You can't do this all by yourself either. You're not so powerful as to find them all!" he snapped at her. She swiveled around in the chair, and stared at him with cool eyes.
"You just don't like me because I walked in on you when you were in just your skivvies." She stated, smirking slightly. His cheeks reddened slightly then he turned sharply on his heel and left. Betsy chuckled to herself and turned back to the screen.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Betsy entered the dining room when she was done with her research. The Professor looked at her questionably but she shook her head, sitting down in her spot next to Cyclops at the table.
"Please pass the rolls," she asked Gambit, who was sitting at her left.
He grabbed the basket and handed it to her. "Here y' go p'tite."
She gave him a flirty smile. "Thank you so much, Remy," she said, giving a longer drawl to his name. His eyes sparked and he smirked back. Rogue scowled at the Brit.
"Sure t'ing, p'tite," he drawled back, his voice laced with sexuality although he was just being playful and didn't mean any of it.
"Scott, could you pass me those mashed potatoes?" she asked Scott sweetly, squeezing his knee. He jumped, blushing, and did what he was told. Angel scowled at her from down the table.
The Brotherhood was also there. Instead of the pseudo enemies they had been, the X-Men and the Brotherhood had sort of become reluctant allies. There were humans out there that hated them both more than they hated each other.
John, however, really didn't seem to care. He piled his plate with a bunch of food, examined the steak, and then took out his Zippo lighter, hovering a flame above the steak for a few minutes. When he was done, he then made the flame transform into a little dog, then had it rip up the green lettuce, not burning it because it was wet.
"Doy, doy, lettuce!" he murmured to himself, only concentrating on the flame and not the others around him. Wanda gave him an annoyed look from across the table and extinguished it with her own powers. John's head snapped up.
"Wot was that foah?" he asked.
"You're not going to set another fire, Pyro!" she hissed at him. John looked a bit sheepish.
"I could awlways fix it..." he trailed off.
"That's not what you did the last time you set a fire in the kitchen," she retorted, "You ran around like a lunatic screaming, 'Call the fire department, call the fire department!'"
"I did nawt!" he said in defense.
"You did it the last *twelve* times!" she said incredulously, not believing that he would deny such a thing. "You were too afraid to extinguish it by yourself!"
John scowled and slumped in his seat, refusing to look at anybody else.
"See, I told you so," Wanda said as she ate a piece of her steak.
"Brat."
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"That's what I thought."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Conner McCormick looked around. The corridors were dark, and one could hardly see. He stepped up next to the cell, in front of the solid wall of the bars.
"Psst," he hissed. The breathing seemed to stop for only a moment. "Psst, Toad."
There was a quiet scuffling, and a figure appeared cautiously at the bars. "Who's there?"
"It's me," Conner whispered. "I'm going to take you to a room. I need to tell you something."
"Alright," the Toad whispered back, although a bit suspiciously. Conner, as silently as he could, unlocked the door and Toad stepped out, looking around him.
"Nobody's 'ere. At least, not around 'ere. They're probably sleeping, but I c'n avoid cameras." He hissed in Toad's ear, and her grabbed Toad by the arms. Toad gave him a withering glare.
"So as not ta look suspicious. Ye got it? Jus' follow along." The Toad had no choice but to obey. Conner locked the cell back up.
Silently, they stealthily walked down the corridor, Conner looking around dark corners at first before turning. Finally he stopped at a door, looked around cautiously, then rapped on it quietly four times then twisted the knob, letting himself in.
There were seven other agents inside. Toad instantly froze, gaping at McCormick. Conner gave him a reassuring smile and pointed to a chair.
"It's alright. Sit." He ordered. Toad reluctantly did so.
"Toad, these are the other agents that don't believe Trask's cause." He told him.
"Agent Allison Crawp, Agent Dan Hooper, Agent Henry Gild, Agent Marie Cosentino, Agent Anthony Thompson, and Agent Frita Gutierrez." Conner pointed to each one.
"Yeah?" Toad asked. "What's the deal?"
"You want to get out of here?" Gutierrez asked coldly.
Toad froze and looked at her. Slowly, he nodded.
"Listen and listen carefully," she said in a low voice. He looked at her, preparing himself to listen like he never listened in his life.
"Thursday night, that is when Trask and many others will not be here. McCormick will be by your cell, putting you back in. You will fight him. Show some sign of a struggle as not to look suspicious. Make sure you knock him unconscious. Got it?" Gutierrez told him. Toad nodded hastily.
"You will take the keys from him. Unlock as many cells as you can. Pietro Maximoff is down further from you on the ground floor. You will find him with a mutant known as Jean Grey," Toad's eyes widened in shock, "Tell the other mutants to just knock as many agents as they can if they run into any. Not to kill them unless absolutely necessary. Then, on the third floor, is Stryker's office. He is barely here. He will have the master key to the collars. It is small and a bronze color, with an orange sticker on it. Take it and use it. You got this?" Toad nodded once again.
"We would have you do this tomorrow on Tuesday, but Thursday seemed better," Allison Crawp cut in. "But we thought you would want to escape with your friend. Unfortunately, he is in no condition to do anything like this at the moment."
"What? What happened to him?" Toad asked in a panicked voice.
"Trask injected him with something. I don't know what, but I suppose it was meant to do something with his heart, since that's what it did. Gave him a heart attack."
"What!" Toad cried, springing from his seat. Conner jumped to his side and forced him back into the seat.
"Shut the fuck up!" he hissed, earning a disapproving glare from Crawp, "Ye dinnae have ta do that!"
"But what if he dies!" Toad wailed quietly.
"El vivirá,*" Gutierrez muttered.
Toad looked around desperately. They were all giving him grim looks. Finally, he settled on asking a question.
"Why me? Why do you want me to do all this?" he asked shakily.
"You seem to have the potential to be a leader," Agent Marie Cosentino said.
"But-but," Toad stammered incredulously, "Pietro and Lance were always the leaders! And Jean Grey is a leader for her team! I'm just a follower. I'm not even that smart!"
Marie gave him a tiny smile, "Your wrong. Have you ever bothered to check your grade? Besides the high absentee and the detentions, you have done well on almost every assignment, especially in technology."
"Okay, okay. I'll do it. But this better work."
"It has to. Just try your best."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hey! How bout that chapter? Toad's going to get his chance to shine! When? I don't know. Well, actually I do, but you don't. Read and review! They keep me alive an' kickin'!
Thanks for reviewing- sPoOkZ13412, I Am The Anonymous Reviewer, crazyspaceystracey, la cour de belles fleurs, Wind Rider 2000, Pauline L., rosie, Krys Xanthina, zephyr, and Officially *Obsessed* with Pyro. Hope you keep reading this! R&R!!!