Alright. Props out to Lonely Shadow Knight and Guin for getting it right. In Vino Veritas: In Wine is Truth/Truth in Wine. However you want to say it. I know it as a quote from Tombstone (great movie), used to mean: when someone's drunk, they're more likely to say what they really feel. *sigh* Sadly, it's not Toad who's drunk. I'd really like to get him drunk too. Maybe later. Um, let's see, I know relatively nothing about actually becoming drunk, so this is more by research than experience. This is one of those scenes that sounds cool in your head, but...ah well.

Toad always seems like the kind of guy who's built up so many walls. The only way to get to the real him would be to break them down, and that tends to be a painful process. I think I'm tired of toying around with him. ...For now. *evil smile*



*************************************************************************************

In the next three hours, Toad had gotten up determinedly, paced to the door, dithered for a moment, then gone to sit back down and suck on the last beer in the apartment at least thirty times. He couldn't stand it. 'Why the hell am I still here?' he brooded angrily. 'I should just go. Now's as good a time as any. I won't have to deal with seeing her again or saying anything.' And then his treacherous mind conjured up the image of her face, her eyes, red and damp, staring at him, her lips half-parted, about to speak. What was it she'd wanted to say? In the few days he'd been with her, Toad had never known her to hesitate about speaking her mind. 'Probably wanted to tell me to get th' hell out,' he told himself, smirking without humor. But he knew that wasn't it. With a frustrated growl, he pushed himself up from the counter and stalked towards the door for the thirty-first time that evening. His hand was on the door. Just twist and pull. Twist and pull. Her face. His hands tightened around the knob. Just...

"Urghh." He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall with a defeated sigh. He couldn't. 'What the hell is wrong with me?' he thought desperately. 'There's nothing stopping me...' Her eyes. ' No. That's nothing! She's not important! She's just...'he couldn't dismiss her as easily as he once had. 'She's just...some girl. A nice girl... But it doesn't matter!' He shook himself and paced across the room, dropping down on the couch and holding his head in his hands. 'It doesn't matter...

' I don't...

' I can't....'



The sound of a key in the door startled him before he could finish. He looked up to see Zoey stumbling into the room, half-carrying Gabby. He was on his feet before he knew it.

"What th' hell happened?" Zoey blinked, a little surprised and shrugged as best she could with the larger blonde leaning on her.

"Gabby didn't have too great a night, let's say. And she discovered the stress relieving properties of alcohol. Can y'gimme a hand?" Hesitantly, Toad slung Gabby's arm around his shoulders and guided her to her room. Blearily, she looked up at him and started giggling. Toad squinted and shook his head.

"Cor, how much did she have?" Zoey shrugged unsteadily and opened the door. After realizing that Gabby wasn't moving her feet at all, Toad gave up and simply picked her up and carried her to the beds. "Which one's hers?" Zoey pointed to the right one and he set her down gently, then hurried out of the room, feeling awkward. Zoey closed the door and followed him, flopping down in the chair.

"Oog," she muttered wearily, rubbing her temples. Toad sat down on the couch.

"How much did you have?"

"I dunno, like...three, four beers? I'm just a little woozy. Think I'm gonna stay the night, if that's okay." Toad shrugged.

"So...what happened." She looked up at him, angry.

"Jason is a two-faced @sshole, that's what happened. He invited Gabby out, then not an hour into it, he's makin' out with some slut. I figgered he was a jerk, but Gabby seemed to like him..."

"She didn't take it too well then?"

"Nah. But really, she doesn't drink that much. And I think someone gave her a coupla shots of vodka, too. I dunno, I didn't hang out with them that long. Urgh..." She lay back against the chair with her arm over her eyes for several minutes. Toad fidgeted nervously with a coaster on the table. After a while she stood up a little shakily. "'M goin' ta bed. G'night." Toad nodded and turned on the television.



An hour later he found himself watching the preview channel. Family Guy, usually such a good way to forget about his problems, had been a mutant parody. 'Seems like everyone's taking a hit on us,' he thought angrily, flipping through the 11 o'clock crap. With a muted growl, he turned the tv off and paced to the kitchen and back. He really needed to leave soon. If for nothing else than to be able to walk more than ten feet without having to turn around. 'I could just leave now.' He looked to the door. 'But...'he sighed'...I should at least tell her goodbye...tell her...'Tell her what? Thank you? Sorry? He knew he needed to tell her something.

A light clicked on down the hall and he heard the sound of water running in the bathroom, followed by gargling noises.

"Gah...wha' crawled i'm'mouth an' died?" muttered Gabby, coming into the room. She walked unsteadily to the couch and practically fell onto the cushions next to Toad, who raised an eyebrow at her.

"Shouldn't you be sleepin'?" She glanced at him from under her mussed bangs, dark eyes hooded drowsily.

"Mm. Had a bad dream." A tired grin tugged at one corner of her mouth. "'sides, I had to brush my teeth." She considered for a moment. "I hate beer." Toad smirked but didn't comment. After a few minutes, she spoke again. "I just...don' feel like being alone right now."

"Zoey's in the other bed," he pointed out.

"Mm." She look away and sighed.

"Rough night?" She looked at him sharply--or as sharply as she could. He shrugged, but was feeling vicious enough to press on. "I heard about it."

"Didja hear why he started makin' out wi' tha' girl?" She looked angry but unfocused. "'Heard that he only really wanted one thing? An' when he found ou' that he wasn' gonna ge' it, he wen' off wi' some'un else?" She sighed and slumped forward, resting her head in her hand. Toad wondered if she had passed out when she spoke again. "'Shoulda known he'd be a jerk. Cute ones are always jerks." She paused and looked up at him with a grin. "Even you. 'Specially you sometimes." Toad gave her a pitying look.

"You've had way too much, love." She giggled a bit and mouthed "love" as if it were the punchline to a clever joke, then leaned across the couch next to him.

"Ser'isly," she slurred. "Y'have any idea how cute y'are?"

"Do *you* have any idea how bloody *pissed* you are?" he asked, feeling panicky. She giggled and settled next to him, snuggling against his shoulder.

"Na' pissed," she protested, amused.

"Drunk, love. Drunk," he amended, still tensed. Another set of giggling.

"Oh. Yah. Am. Heheh." She snuggled against him harder, forcing him to turn towards her to get comfortable. She rested her head against his chest and sighed happily. "Keep th' nightmares away, Todd," she murmured drowsily before passing out again.

Toad stared at the girl resting in his arms in fearful amazement. He could smell the smoky bar-scent that still clung to her, and beneath that the strawberry-scented soap she had used. Part of his mind just went numb. A girl, a normal, human girl, lay in his arms, trusting, liking, needing him. He closed his eyes. 'This is enough God. This is more than I ever...'She shifted again, a small, sleepy smile on her face. Looking down at her, feeling a tentative smile cross his own lips, Toad finally admitted to himself why he hadn't been able to leave. He gently brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. "'Keep the nightmares away.'" She had done that for him. Now it was his turn to guard her sleep. And yet...

And yet that smile, so innocent. She trusted him completely. Granted, it was probably the booze. Toad smirked, hearing the words of Halbert, a bully from his St. Augustine days: "'Yeah, Toady, the only way you'd ever get a girl is if she were plastered!'" Well whaddaya know? The little maggot had been right, just...not in a way either of them had expected. He frowned. And what if she really knew about him? Apparently his appearance didn't repulse her, but what if she knew who he was...who he had been. Would she be as quick to cuddle the terrorist and murder Toad as she was to cuddle Todd? Or just Mortimer?

He suddenly remembered Brother Sensei, trying to convince him to go to confession. "'There are times, Mortie, when you just need to tell someone...everything. God's always listening, but sometimes it helps to tell a tangible human being. Trust me, you'll feel much better once you do.'" A confession. Toad thought back to the last time...a hurried, mumbled thing to a priest behind a screen, only nine years old and feeling the loathing from the man who was supposed to grant him absolution. He shuddered. So much since then to ask forgiveness for. Then again, he wasn't looking for forgiveness. But he couldn't let her lay against him like this, without a hint of fear or suspicion. Not without telling her what kind of monster he was. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and started talking.



He told her everything. His mother, his name, St. Augustine's. He dredged up painful memories of the first nine years of his life, alone, frightened, hardening to the cruel world around him. He felt a sting in his eyes when he told her about Brother Sensei, the one person who'd ever made him feel loved, feel human. He paused, trying to recollect himself when he recalled the way he'd felt, knowing his Sensei wouldn't be coming back. The night he had run away from St. Augustine's for good. The year spent on the streets. The first person he had killed. As he spoke, the face came back to him. An ugly thug who had a coat. That had been why he'd picked the fight. He was freezing and the man had a coat. And then...meeting Magneto. He would never forget that night. Sick with cold and hunger and fear, and this grey-haired, steel-eyed man offering him the world. He shivered and went on. Training, the rest of the BrotherHood. He told her about each member in detail, suddenly remembering little incidents that shone out from a sea of dark, vague memories, like snapshots of moments, everything else long since faded to grey. He catalogued the missions, listing every person he'd killed, for the Cause, for Magneto, or just because it seemed like what he wanted to do. Looking at the list as Mortimer Toynbee, taught by the only man he might have called "father" to believe in honor and compassion, he found himself sickened. But as Toad, they were just numbers, things that had gotten in the way, a minor problem that he had fixed in the same way that he fixed the helicopter or the A/C unit. Only he'd enjoyed himself considerably more while "fixing" the human problem.

He was at the last mission. The two guards, the last two people he'd killed -'Ever?' part of him asked. Odd, his first kills, the faces, the reasons, the actions stood out so clearly in his memory, but further down, they just faded into a blur. He frowned. He really was a monster. The Statue of Liberty incident now. His battle with the X-men, so close to victory, only to be defeated by the weather witch. The feeling of the lightening. The water, the knowledge that he was going to die, was already dead maybe. Then the blackness.

"And then you found me," he murmured to the top of her head, resting a hand on her scratchy-soft hair. "And now you know what I am." She sighed in her sleep, one hand curled loosely on his t-shirt. Mortimer allowed himself a smile. Brother Sensei had been right. It felt much better. Here, in the dark, holding Gabby, for the first time in longer than he cared to remember, he felt at peace.



He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, half dozing, content. When he finally forced himself to look at the clock, it blinked 4:27 at him. 'So now what?' he thought, feeling suddenly frightened and desperate. 'You've told her everything. Just one thing left to say. One thing left to do.' 'No, I don't want to!' 'You have to.' There was no arguing. He knew what he needed to do.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, he picked her up and carried her to her bed. He pulled the covers over her and allowed his fingers to brush against her cheek, tenderly, possessively. He looked at her for a long while, struggling with himself, then bent down and lightly brushed his lips over her forehead.

"I think I love you," he heard himself whisper. The rising slowly, he turned and left, quietly shutting the door behind him.








********************************************************************

"But I wanna know for su-ure!" ...okay, maybe that's a bit out of place, but Toad's getting wildly OOC...oh well. Maybe a better title for this would have been "Confessions." But then, that would have given it all away. And let's just pretend that people can temporarily recover from being drunk. Thankies again to all the lovely lovely reviewers.