"Well…dis ain't good."
Alright, so it wasn't the most eloquent response. However, Remy hadn't been having the best day. And the fact that he was currently being pinned to the inside wall of the Statue of Liberty's head by pieces of steel rebar wrapped around his wait and wrists wasn't helping matters any. So yeah, Remy was at a loss for words. But, then again, that was the least of his problems.
Presently, the man floating down through the gaping hole in the ceiling was the big problem. Remy recalled their last meeting, and swallowed hard against the nervous bile that rose in this throat. He'd gotten beat hard by Magneto in Louisiana. Make no mistake, it wasn't going to happen again.
"Welcome, my brothers, to the dawning of glorious new future," Magnus crowed, touching down in the center of the room. A smirking Sabretooth leapt down behind him. Both men scanned their captives with eager eyes. Cynically, he addressed them each in turn. "Storm, Jean, so good of you to join us. I'm sorry that Cyclops could not attend." Jean scowled at him, narrowing her eyes, but said nothing. Magneto sent an oily, sweet smile in her direction.
"Don't strain yourself, m'dear," he advised, tapping his oblong helmet with one long, gnarled finger. "If Charles couldn't break through this little helmet of mine, I doubt that you'll be able to." From the fiery look in Jean's eyes, Remy figured she was fighting the urge to spit in the man's eye as he leaned in close to her. Magnus got the hint, however, and moved on to his right, gloating over Logan.
"And once again the Wolverine has run into a trap from which he cannot escape," the older man boasted, admiring his full control over the raging Canadian.
"You sonufabitch," Logan snarled back, practically foaming at the mouth. "It should be you up in that thing!" In response, Magneto raised his hand up in front of himself and closed it into a fist. The sound of the warping of the metal on Logan's bones was practically audible, but the man never expressed the pain he was obviously in. Under no control of his own, Logan's arms crossed over his chest, each fist aimed at his own neck. "That ought to encourage you to play nice with those claws of yours." Just to be sure though, Magnus fastened a metal girder around each of the man's wrists. Moving on to a fresh victim, Erik rounded on Remy.
"And last, but certainly not least, the Cajun thief," he crooned, sauntering over to stand before the boy. "You are supposed to be dead. No matter, though. Now you'll get the opportunity to witness the rise of Homo superior as the dominant species on the planet." Remy opened his mouth to respond, but Storm beat him to it.
"Genocide will only beget genocide, Magnus," Ororo replied calmly. "You should know that better than anyone." The old mutant stiffened visibly, and Storm knew she'd hit a nerve.
"How many times have you been harassed because of what you are, Storm?" he asked slowly, dangerously. "I expected you, better than anyone, to see the wisdom behind my plans?"
"Your plans," she hissed, all the fury of a tornado concealed within her voice, "will kill the leaders of the free world, not to mention half the population of New York. Excuse me for having a slight problem with that."
"You're wrong," he cried. "These men and women will leave this conference as brothers of the mutant race. They will never pass that foolish law when the lawmakers themselves are all mutants."
"And that bill will pass twice as fast when all the lawmakers are dead," Jean jumped in. "Just like how Senator Kelly is dead." That information was clearly not Magneto expected to hear. He strode over to stand before her, regarding her with fascination and…pride.
"So, Kelly survived the trip back to land," he mused, almost as if talking to himself. "He's more powerful than I expected."
"He was until he died," Jean exclaimed. "The mutation triggered by the radiation your machine emits causes a unnatural breakdown in the nucleic structure of almost all bodily cells. Twelve hours after exposure the cell wall,"she explained in a doctoral fashion, however Magnus cut her off.
"Are you positive of his death, Dr. Grey?" he asked haughtily. "Are you sure you saw what you claim you saw?" But before Jean could respond, Magneto took to the air.
"Like it or not, X-Men, the future is coming tonight. I am going to ensure the survival of the mutant race, and I will not allow you to stop me!" And with that, he disappeared behind the torch, leaving the four X-Men under the watchful eyes of the pacing Sabretooth.
Almost instantly after Magneto disappeared, Victor Creed stalked over to regard the women, particularly Storm. She leaned as far back as the restraints around her shoulders and waist would allow as Victor approached her, but that didn't stop him from running a long, clawed finger down her cheek.
"Beautiful," he purred dangerously. His claw left a long scratch down the side of her face. "I want to hear you scream."
"Hey, pussy!" Remy barked up, "get da hell away from her!" He writhed painfully against his restraints, itching to come to her aid. But he was stuck fast. Magneto had obviously done his homework, as he'd made sure to strap his arms well out of the way of anything that he could potentially use as a weapon. The only thing the Cajun could do was squirm and shout. Not that he wasn't good at those things; they just weren't very helpful at the moment. Jean, on the other hand, was not so helpless. As Creed leaned in close to Ororo's face, he was suddenly thrown back against the far side of the room with sickening force.
"Leave her alone," Jean warned. "Or next time that's what I'm going to do to your brain." However her threat must not have registered too well, because Creed climbed back to his feet, and rounded on Jean.
"You're gonna regret that," he threatened. He never got the chance to act on that threat though, because that's when Logan lost it.
"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhh," he screamed in a feral manner, before extending both his claws with a resonating SNIKT.
"Logan!" Jean screamed both mentally and aloud as the man's claws drove into the arteries of his neck. With a sickening thud, Logan hit the ground face down as his claws sliced open his bindings. Lying in a quickly expanding puddle of his own blood, the man didn't move.
Jean and Storm looked on, apprehension visible on both their faces. Remy, on the other hand, wasn't the least bit concerned. He'd watched this man recover from what he knew to be a fatal wound administered by one of the best marksmen he'd ever seen. Call it a hunch, but Remy had a feeling that Logan was no deader this time than he had been before. Which is why he was all the more amused when Sabretooth abandon harassing the women to go investigate the seemingly dead body on the floor.
When he grabbed Logan by the shoulders to flip him over, Creed was certainly shocked when the dead man whirled around on him, jamming six claws into his stomach. With a roar, Victor whirled around, grabbing the revived Logan by the wrists and bringing him along for the ride. Using his momentum, Sabretooth pulled Logan's claws from his abdomen and tossed him through the hole in the roof. With a startling leap, Creed followed after, through the hole and out of sight.
"Well, dis ought to be interesting," Remy declared, as he and the girls peered out the hole and into the night.
The only clues as to what was taking place above them were the echoes of screams and the scratching and thumping of feet pounding around. However, things went from bad to worse as another scream peppered the cool, night air. This one a high, penetrating scream the made the hair on the back of Remy's neck stood on end.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
He recognized it instantly. "Rogue!" he shouted in response, but she never heard.
"Jean?" he demanded frantically, "while dat pussy cat's distracted, can you break dese bindings?"
"I can't," she admitted, though secretly, she'd been trying since the instant they'd been taken hostage. "Magneto's manipulated the magnetic field within,"
"Save it," he cut her off. "Storm, can you…?"
"I've got nothing, Remy," she said. "Not unless you want me to blow this place to hell, which isn't out of the question at this point. You're the master thief," she pointed out. "Any bright ideas." But, in fact, Storm's mention of blowing things to high hell had just given him one.
"Hey Jeannie?" he whispered across the room. "You said dis uniform strong. Jus' how strong we talkin' 'ere?"
"Wha," she started to ask aloud, but she picked the image out of his mind first. "Remy, don't!" But the chances he was going to listen in the first place were slim.
"Ah guess we're 'bout to find out den," he murmured, ignoring the warning. For the first time all night, he was thankful that his uniform was a little small. It meant that the sleeves of his overcoat hung past the cuffs. When Magneto had chained his wrists to the wall, it had bunched up his coat sleeves just enough so that he could grab a pinch of fabric between two fingers. Trying not to dwell on the fact that he could easily blow himself up in an instant, he charged up his coat, carefully. Too high and he would blow himself to pieces, too low and all he would do was vaporize his favorite coat. Finally, when he was sure the balance was right, he squinted his eyes shut and let go. Two heartbeats later the coat exploded.
"Holy hell!" Remy cussed as what felt like a line of fire ripped across the back of his neck, where his collar used to be. However, two loud clangs resonated about the room as the bars that had bound Remy's wrists fell free. Scorched and singed, the thief was just relieved to find all his limbs still attached. Though the blast had failed to break the metal pipe around his midsection, with his hands free, Remy made short work of that. Falling to the floor, he let out a small grunt before moving on to help the girls.
"See," Jean said as Remy charged her own restraints. "I told you you'd be glad you put that thing on." The Cajun was somewhat less amused.
"First mah bo staff, den mah coat," he muttered. "Dis jus' ain't been mah week. Let's go save de day, non?" Storm couldn't agree more.
Conjuring up her own personal updraft, she rose to the roof, where Logan and Creed were still grappling with one another.
"Logan," she called in a voice deep and booming, like the roar of the wind itself. "Move." As fast as he could move, the Wolverine disengaged himself and backed several feet away from Creed
With a wave of her hand, she conjured up a jet stream that plowed around Logan and blew Creed off the monument as if he weighed no more than a scrap of paper. When he was a hundred years out, Storm cut the lift and the feral man began to drop towards the sea with astounding speed. Before he hit the water, though, Storm punished him even further. From among the rapidly forming clouds, she called down a bolt of lightning, which struck the man square in the chest. With a toss of her hair, she turned around, neither seeing nor caring where the man fell. With surprising grace, she leapt back into the hole. Almost instantly the sky began to clear, a half full moon peeking through the abating clouds.
"Now let's go get our girl."
Knowing that the time was close, Rogue sat within the confines of her machine, musing wherever her mind wandered, thinking about her family, and the life she left behind. Being raised in the south, it was hard to avoid the all the religious undertones existing there, even if you'd wanted to. Rogue had attended Sunday service every week for as long as she could remember. Sitting beside her mother in a red plaid dress, she listened to the stories of miracles and hellfire and brimstone. At the time, faith had seemed like a logical belief. However, it hadn't been real faith, the girl knew, because for faith to be true it has to be tested. For Rogue, her time since fleeing Mississippi had been quite the test of faith. It's hard to believe that God is watching over everyone when you discover that you have a killer touch and the majority it humanity would sleep better if you were locked away in a mutant death camp. But sitting there, feeling lost and forgotten, Rogue was suddenly struck with a moment of nostalgia. She recalled the line of an old country song her father was fond of. It went something like "but girl, you'll remember what your knees are for." Well, Rogue had never been more on her knees than at that very moment. Bowing her head, she began to whisper.
"God…oh God. I know…it's been so long," she was feeling twelve kinds of stupid at the moment, but the sound of her own voice, cracked and hoarse as it was, was nonetheless reassuring. "I'm not as sure about you as my folks used to be. I know life isn't supposed to be easy, that you test us constantly. At least, that 's what my Momma used to tell me. But I honestly think I've been tested enough at this point." Vocalizing her emotions, her anger, only made the words pour from her faster.
"What's going to happen here tonight…it's just not right. A lot of your people stand to be hurt tonight. I don't want to be a part of this," she admitted. "You can't let this happen, it's just not fair!" The final phrase came out as a shout. Needless to say, her attempt at a prayer to the higher power had deviated slightly. And it had been overheard too.
"You may find that what takes place here tonight does not agree with your definition of fairness," Magus cooed, appearing in the narrow doorway. "However, neither was the slaughter of the over a million Jews at the hands of the nazi regime. Where was God then? I already survived one genocide, Rogue. I will not stand idly by and witness another one." There was a haunting look in his eyes as he approached her, like a brief preview of the demons that tormented his soul within. For the first time ever, Rogue was more afraid of him than she was of death he promised her.
"You aren't going to forestall anything, Magneto. You're only going to make this war start that much faster. You will bring about the destruction of the mutant race, not prevent it."
"Then let the war come. I intend to fight this one to the very end." Reaching out both his hands, he leaned in close to her. Rogue shied back as far as possible, but the restraints kept her well within his reach. As his fingers brushed against her cheeks, Rogue had only a moment to hear him mutter, "and God will not be her to protect us this time either," before her power kicked in, and the world exploded around her in a shower of white light. She fell down that spiraling well of white so fast, she was unable to hear even her own scream.
AN: The song lyrics are from Sugarland's song Baby Girl. They own it, not me. Also, hang on tight, cause I've practically finished writing this story, and I have one hell of an ending planned for ya'll. Keep reading, reviewing, and stick around, cause this rides almost over ;)