So many reviews and demands! So here is the next chapter! The mystery is solved--well, part of it anyway. Hopefully after reading this chapter you may go back to the previous ones and understand why and how things happened the way they did.
And it's so interesting to see how so many people want to know what's been happening with the Professor, Logan, and Storm. I didn't put too much emphasis on them--they were basically for the subplot and there to add to the mystery. But, hey, this is a Rogue/Remy story right? Nevertheless, they have already been written in for the plot.
Allie: Rhyme and Reason is one of my favorite chapters. Took me a few minutes to come up with a suitable title. And thank you! I pride myself on my writing skills. Now I just have to get focused enough on my original fiction to continue writing them. I've been neglecting those since I started this fanfic. Oops. PomegranateQueen: whoa, headmistress? What comic title did that happen in? And I thought she used to be in the Hellfire Club or something--what are they thinking?? WerewolfLass: I think you'll enjoy the chapter after the chapter after the next one--if I counted right, :D Yersi Fanel: Thanks, I try to make Remy as realistic as possible, in my viewpoint anyway. I hate the stories that put him so out of character. And dont' worry, this story is never going to go unfinished. X2P3: This story is based off the X-Men: Evolution TV show so all the X-Men are currently residing within the Xavier Institute and are basically teenagers. Rogue is 18 here because this story takes place right before the Ascension episodes (series finales)--and she's already graduated from high school. If you want more info on Evoultion, check out some of the websites that'll give a better background. And Mystique adopted Rogue but birthed Kurt. So far the victim count is: Lance, Scott, Amara, Tabitha, Scarlet Witch, Hank, Bobby, Sam...and I think that's it so far. Sweety8587: I loved the roof scene, too. It's so gratifying to write it then go back and realize how much I really like it. Will he be back? Well, you'll see in this chapter. As for the after-effects of the coma, the body is basically getting weaker after being drained so severely and can't function anymore. I'm sure I could come up with a science to it, but that's Seven Sunningdale's forte. I'm in this for the storytelling. I hate having to write Rogue angst because she's already been through so much, you know? But it's so much fun and necessary! Flowerperson: Are you British? Or am I wrong in thinking only British people say "go on holiday"? And as for Remy, well he HAS to return right? Otherwise he'd be a jerk and I would write him out of the story--God! Never going to happen considering how I love him so much. I think I might just swoon... Hawkgal: I said 'girl' last time, oops. Oh thank you, I hate the stories that put him way out of character. He's not a jerk, just maybe overly audacious at times. And you know what's freaky, I swear you read my mind... Loneraven: Remy will be back, he's like a boomerang when it comes to his favorite fille. Blackrougefille: so many people have asked about the Professor, Logan, and Storm! Didn't know there was so much curiosity, but it's been written in already. It's all in the making. And the story only gets better (or worse, depending on how you look at it) from here! Kendokao: Wasn't the roof scene sweet? Aww... And yes, all your questions will be answered, hopefully. I think I've planned things out thoroughly. Oh, can't wait for you guys to read the next chapters. It just gets more exciting! Enchanted light: here it is! AriKitten: Haha...I'm so wowed by your wows. Thank you so much in all my sincerity. I have put much effort into plot development and characterization, which then leaks into my writing style...I try to make this as real as possible because I've read so many stories that are...not. As for normal humans cooping up P,S, and L, you'll see what's happened here. Don't worry, many have picked apart the plot and I hate not being able to tell them anything otherwise I'd ruin the story! Agh. There's always fluff, how can there not be in a Rogue/Remy story? But only after heavy angst of course, because that's when it's really appreciated. Freak87: Way to catch my little suggetions. I wondered sometimes whether or not I was being too subtle. Hmm, I'll see. It is kinda funny thinking about a man in a wheelchair in a prison cell, haha, which is what we're going to see of course. Chained by the wall, hahahaha... Oh, God we're awful. The old X-Men series was heavily underrated. It was a great show. But I never got to see the ones in the late fourth season and fifth season! Just me: God, Emma Frost is just, heck no. And as for Remy leaving, I'd feel as Rogue felt, so sad. He probably should have said something, huh? But I decided not to just to make things more angsty. Ishandahalf: Oh, they are going to fall, all right. And yes, I think their relationship has evolved quite nicely! But love is undeniable between these two...ahh...More gold stars? I think I've run out of room for them. As for the sequel, I am absolutely itching to write it. But I haven't really developed a strong plot, just bits and pieces of scenes I want to include. Also with school starting in less than two weeks, ooh...I hope I don't run out of time for this!! It was an extremely good day for me to see that two of my favorite authors uploaded! I could hardly contain myself. Do it again! Silky Black: Actually, I think you're one of my most amusing reviewers. Your feelings have no deceived you. Lance is kind of the perfect bad boy now that I think on it, but Remy is...well, there are no words. I'm going to explore a little Lance and Kitty at the end of this story too. OhmyGod, I'm so glad someone agrees with me! Jean does get many unwarranted bashes in other fanfics and realistically, she's just not that type of person. Oh well. My writing skills? Thank you, it means so much! And I love long reviews! SickmindedSucker: Living up to your penname? LOL. Remy always has a reason for his actions and that is why I love his character--we'll see what other reasons he has for doing things later. And concerning Rogue, Remy is her...her comfort--but we'll see more of that in the chapter after the next one, I think. Shockgoddess: Thank God someone shares my fervor against Emma Frost, honestly, what is Marvel thinking? And I really don't care for her own title series, too. How insulting. And I agree that happy stuff best comes after the angst--that way it's much more appreciated! Zen Master White Dragon: Thanks for writing review on both chapters, that was sweet and considerate. Alas, Remy is a little rash at times--but he'll make up for it later. I have zeal now? Thank you! As usual, I thoroughly enjoy and appreciate your objective opinion on my story. As for the ghostly figure being obsessed over Remy, I think I kind of took that from the comic version where the Green Mist Lady was inside Gambit and stuff...I think I've incorporated a lot of the comicverse into this story (they are very very subtle), and if not this one, then the next. And I hate Marvel Scott. Evo Scott is much more likeable, I mean, the stick up his butt isn't that long. Pixie stix addict: That cookie was absolutely delicious, maybe Rogue should have brought of plate of those to Remy instead. Wait, Marvel gave Rogue and Gambit kids? Four? And as for Scott not being regretful over his stupid affair with Emma Frost--somebody kill him! Whatever happened to all that Jean devotion? What an ass! I really can't stand him or Emma Frost. Both are so, ugh, there are no wrods. And I am not even going to bother mentioning Emma Frost in my story because I don't think she's worth the page space. Anda: I don't want this fic to end either. And if you think this is exciting and the Rogue/Remy interactions are good now...just wait and see! GWFreak315: I love your LOVE 3x comment, LOL. You forgot your password? Unacceptable! Maybe this will inspire you to get back into the loop! Honestly, writing a fanfic seemed like a really bad idea, but seeing how it gives people so much pleasure, I just can't stop!
The base was quiet. Remy snuck in though he could have entered through the normal way. As he wandered through the metal halls, he could not hear a single sound. Where were Piotr's pounding strides? Pyro's maniacal laughter? Sabertooth's ornery growls? He knew Piotr had gone to Russia but had also returned for reasons unexplained. Nobody had to question the fate of Magneto. Remy wondered if Pyro still had the video footage.
He entered the stiff steel kitchen and found signs of usage. A few paper plates and cups were in the sink and he didn't bother to wonder why they weren't just disposed of. A half-eaten bag of potato chips sat on the metal table. The stove was on, turned to low heat, with a frying pan left on it. The pan was slowly being damaged while an attempt at scrambled eggs sat as a pile of blackened, nearly-yellow mush. Somebody had left in a hurry.
Suddenly a shout pricked at Remy's senses.
"Then what the hell do you think we should do??" Sabertooth snarled.
"Keep it down!" Piotr ordered.
"Why bother? The kid's out cold."
"Perhaps he is in a coma."
"Makes sense," came the gruff reply, louder as Remy drew closer. "All the other victims are. Wonder if that's what happened to ol' Gambit--damn it, boy, what's the matter with you?"
Piotr turned and his face brightened a minuscule bit at seeing a more likeable teammate. "Gambit, we thought you for dead."
"Yeah, an' I see how distraught y'are," Remy drawled. He looked around the room and noted the smell of burning. The floor and walls were charred black. It was fortunate most of their things at the base was metal. He wondered if Magneto did that on purpose, so he could have control of their environment. Or maybe he jus' has no taste in decor.
Sabertooth managed to roll his eyes. He pointed a clawed finger at the Cajun, "Left us wonderin' what the hell happened to you. We thought you were as unlucky as the firefly." He huffed in Pyro's direction.
St. John lay on a cot in his uniform. His fuel tanks had been pulled off and left on the floor. He looked asleep, but Remy knew better.
"When'd dis happen?"
"A few hours ago," Piotr said. He scratched his Russian head and frowned. "We have received news that the X-Men are targeted. Is this true?"
Remy did not know how much he should tell them. If he discarded information, was that not betraying them? Betraying her? He shrugged, "Why y'askin' me?"
"Because we know you went to them," Sabertooth growled. "We didn't know where else to look. Spied on the mansion and saw you 'round a few times. Gettin' cozy with the enemy, eh?"
"Trust me, mon frere," Remy said. "Ain't dat cozy over dere. Suspicious looks, snappy comments, lame insults--ain't heaven dat's fo'sure. 'Sides, didn't have much choice considerin' y'guys aren't de best of medical professionals."
Piotr shrugged, "We are merely Acolytes, after all."
Sabertooth narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "What'd you do, Cajun? Piss off the wrong people?"
"T'say de least," Remy frowned. "But dat's my business."
"Suits me," Sabertooth grunted. "Now what we going to do 'bout Pyro? He's in a friggin' coma. Can we just leave him?"
Piotr did not like the idea. "He needs medical observation. Gambit, what about the X-Men. They helped you. Would they aid John?"
Remy honestly did not know. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don' know...lemme think on dis for a bit."
He left them to continue arguing and went to the bathrooms. After a long shower he found a fresh uniform and changed into it. He folded the borrowed clothes, running the fingers along the collar. Shouldn't he take them back? He frowned, realizing how ridiculous it was that he'd think they would care about a set of borrowed garments.
Damn it. He had left them without notice, and thinking on that now, realized how stupid a choice that had been. The urgency at the time seemed to demand action, but now he was not so sure. Why would they care anyway? He wasn't one of them. He didn't owe them anything and they probably expected nothing less from him. Who cared about the ridiculous loyalty the X-Men had towards each other? Who cared about that sense of family? Who cared about...
Remy pulled on his boots and trench coat and left his room. Colossus and Sabertooth were still arguing over what to do with Pryo. He charged a card with minimal energy and let it explode to silence them. "Here's de plan," he said. "We take Pyro to de X-Men."
Piotr frowned dubiously, "And they will help the enemy?"
"Dey helped me, non?"
"I wish to help as well."
"Den maybe you can carry him for me."
Sabertooth had different expressions running through his feral face. He scratched his chin, eyes focused in deep thought. Remy watched him warily. He had never really trusted the barbaric mercenary. Creed struck him as the type without morals or reserves of any form. The man would do anything for a price. He had no qualms, whether it was about crime or even killing. Such a person warranted suspicion.
He noticed Remy's askance visage and growled, "What?"
"Don't get any ideas" the Cajun told him. "Now ain't de best time t'be makin' trouble. You might even be de next victim and when y'want deir help, y'll want dem t'give it t'y'."
Sabertooth narrowed his eyes, sneering mockingly. "Since when'd you become such a righteous prick? Stay with them too long? X-Men values on life and conduct rubbin' off of you?"
"Shut it, Creed. Piotr, pick John up. We're..." Remy gasped, taking a step back.
Sabertooth growled in irritation, "What's your game, Cajun?"
She was there, hovering over John's body. Her misty hands reached out and caressed his face. Bright twinkles lit her eyes as she smiled. She looked at Remy and her eyes softened, her lips unmoving as she spoke to him in his mind. He's a very merry fellow. You liked that about him, yes?
Remy continued to stare in captivated silence. She was like a dream, a horrible, beautiful dream.
His mind is like a whirligig of simply happy thoughts. You know how people always say in bad times "Find a happy place"? Mister St. John Allerdyce is all happy place. Makes me want to laugh...
"Who are you?" Remy asked, finding his voice. "What do you want?"
A life, the smoky figure replied. Happiness, success, love--what does anybody want?
Sabertooth exchanged looks with Piotr. "Is he losin' it?"
Piotr shrugged.
She floated away from Pyro, twirling weightlessly in the air, eyes closed. Then she fluffed up her wispy hair and drifted down to Remy, right in front of him. She smiled with translucent lips. Am I beautiful, Remy? Do you think I'm pretty? When he did not reply she reached out to stroke his face. All he felt was air. It's so hard having to be like this, to feed like this.... She lowered her eyes, sad. People like us just can't find peace, can we? Her mood cheered as she realized something. But we're the same in that way, right Remy? We're both so troubled... But don't worry, I'll always be there for you. You'll always have me to love you.
Remy shook his head.
She scowled, narrowing her eyes. Not good enough for you, LeBeau? Or is it you're too occupied by the skunk headed girl? You can't even touch her. She is intriguing though...even I'm a bit taken with her...
"Dis ain't 'bout Rogue," he said. "Dis is 'bout you killin' people."
But I don't kill them, she cooed. They just sleep for a while...
"An' den dey die. Y'think dat's right? Y'think dey deserve dat?"
Her ethereal face twisted angrily. She whipped away from him, screaming loudly in his head, And what about me?! Don't I deserve anything? Aren't I important? My life was stolen from me! Her lurid eyes flicked towards the tall Russian and a smirk played across her mouth. Never been to Moscow before...
"No," Remy said.
How will you stop me? And she dove at Piotr.
Remy could tell when Piotr was able to see her. The Russian's eyes widened in surprise, then as the ghost made herself look as terrifying as possible he began shouting and yelling in alarm.
Sabertooth growled warily, switching into a fighting stance. "What is it? What the hell you screaming about?"
"Stop it!" Remy shouted.
Her hands, now semblances of claws, snatched at Piotr. She shrieked in his face, baring fangs behind an evil and twisted mouth. A serpentine tongue whipped dangerously beyond cracked lips. He squirmed in fright and horror. To the unseeing eye, it looked as though he had gone mad. And then she began the absorption, slow and painful. She turned to leer at Remy, eyes wide and monstrous in the most unnatural way. This was the face she showed her victims. This was the face she wanted them to fear.
She was draining him, draining his friend. Remy stared in horrified awe. Even Rogue never did it by creating so much fear, so much suffering. He wasn't thinking. He lunged forward, reaching for her ghostly hands. He went right through. But then something happened he did not expect. She whirled at him, terrifying fury focused on a new target. She screamed and flew directly towards him.
Cold. There was nothing but cold. Then a wracking pain in his head, like the burning and crumbling of his skull. He tried to yell but found he couldn't. Then just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. He opened his eyes.
"So this is your mind."
Remy spun around and saw a young woman standing beside him. They were the only two in a wide expanse of empty black space. "Who are you?"
She settled him with a dubious look, "You're kidding me right?" When he continued to gawk she rolled her eyes, pushing back long locks of curly black hair. "I'm called Annabel," she said. "Don't you think that's a pretty name?"
Remy blinked and looked around. He was no longer at the base, or was he? "What did y'do t'me?" he demanded.
Annabel ignored his question. "A few of the people I absorbed, they love Poe. I've never read his stuff, personally. One mutant girl had memorized Annabel Lee. Do you know that poem?"
Remy slowly shook his head. He looked at his hands, able to see them though there was clearly no light where they were. This was not real. He had to be dreaming. Or something. What was the first thing she had said? So this is your mind. They were inside his head?
"It's a horribly sad poem, about a dead girl," Annabel sighed. "But I guess that fits me, huh? Good as dead." She walked around the void surrounding them. "This can't possibly be what your mind looks like all the time. Why do you hide away your memories? Wait, I already know, so telepaths like Charles Xavier have a harder time picking around your thoughts--right?" She smiled prettily at him. "And hell knows you don't want people knowing about you."
Remy glared at her, "How'd y'get in here anyway?"
"I'm a telepath, too," she said proudly, "not just a soul-sucking vampire. And I find it interesting how you try so hard to hide your past. It isn't that mortifying. But people these days, always so paranoid about themselves and too conceited to realize there are bigger problems in the world. And if you ask me--"
"I didn't," he bit off. This was the girl, the phantom, that had drained so many mutants, killed some, and yet she was standing there in his mind, trying to have a conversation. She was almost lecturing him. It was utterly ridiculous.
"--you should feel lucky to even have a past to worry about," she continued. "I never got a chance to live."
Unsure what to make of anything, Remy realized it would be safe to just play along, humor the girl. He knew she could very well put him into a coma, just as she readily did others. "You've never had a chance to live," he said.
Annabel nodded sadly. "Even if I did, wouldn't be much of a life anyway... Without mutants, I'd die." Her eyes landed on her raised hands, stared at them in disgust. "I steal their souls...their minds...their powers... Some have the best memories, lives so happy I want to kill them out of envy. Others...less fortunate." She dropped her hands and looked around. "You could at least try to make this place more friendly for a guest."
"You," Remy said, raising an eyebrow, "are an intruder."
She laughed, "Oh, Remy, you're such a funny guy. No wonder she's so smitten with you. You know, nobody's ever gotten away from me. You're the first. That's why I'm saving you, Remy. You're going to be my special friend."
"How?" he wanted to know. "Y'were killin' me wit'out prejudice b'fore. An' why can I see y' when only de victims can?"
"Because I'm letting you," Annabel rolled her eyes. "And as for absorbing you, I'm glad I didn't." She smiled kindly, "Even the little bit I got showed me what a great guy you are. Most people don't realize that you're such a gentleman, such a romantic--huh? You're quite the amusing character, Remy LeBeau--haunted, but still amusing. You would have been my choice for a boyfriend, you know. And I would have finished the job if that idiot Assassin hadn't knocked you upside the head. You blacked out and I couldn't get in anymore. You've got to be awake--otherwise I'd just absorb people in their sleep and life would be filled with less screams of terror."
"Dose screams are 'cause of you, cherie," Remy told her. "Y'make y'self look terrifying jus' t'scare dem more."
Annabel smiled guiltily, "If I didn't, where's the fun?" Her blue irises twinkled. "It isn't enough that absorbing them makes me happy, makes me feel alive... Their experiences become mine and the more I get, the better I feel. It's like a drug." She sighed wistfully. "And I need more and more as time goes on...Why not give them a scare to keep the world interesting?" She laughed like a giddy child, "I'm all over the news, Remy! It's fun being so notorious."
"Are you a ghost?" Remy asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Please. That's such a ridiculous hypothesis. I thought people were less suspicious these days. I'm a friggin' mutant, moron, can't you tell?"
Remy scowled, not enjoying her unfriendly manner. "You're Wraith," he said carefully and watched the flicker of emotion in her pale eyes. "Y'real name is Patricia Velkonnen an' y'went around killin' people in Europe. Now you jus' put dem in a coma. Why de sudden change o'heart?"
Annabel glared at her feet. "Leave it alone," she tightly.
"The Professor wants t'help you," Remy continued. "De first time, when he caused de fire and y'got hurt, he didn't mean fo'it t'happen like dat. Why are y'so ghost-like? If dere's somet'ing wrong wit' y'body, dey'll try an' help you."
Annabel shook her head furiously, luscious black curls flailing. "Shut up! I don't want to hear it!" She cupped her hands over her ears.
Remy grabbed her shoulders, twisted her around to face him. She looked frightened, like a lost little girl despite the maturity of her age. He could feel her sadness, anger, and contempt. It was unsettling how empathetic he was at the moment. "Let de Professor help--do y'know where dey are? Dey haven't contacted de mansion in days--what'd y'do t'dem?"
"I didn't do anything!" Annabel screeched. "And you don't understand!" She pounded his chest with her dainty hands. "Nobody understands what this is like! Nobody knows what I've been through!"
"Patricia," Remy said gently. "If y'tell dem dey'll understand, dey'll only wan' t'help. All y' got t'do is stop absorbin' people fo' a lil' while. Give de Professor an' de X-Men time t'figure out a way through dis. Y'don' find people like dem very often, ones dat'll help wit'out askin' fo' anyt'ing in return." It was almost comical how he was the one giving such a speech.
A sob escaped her throat and she wiped away tears. "No...it's not what you think..." She looked at him with heartbreaking eyes. She drew a shaky breath, "I don't want to hurt people. I have to...or I'll die."
Remy felt like he was trying to console a small child. "Dere's always anot'er way, Patricia. Always."
Suddenly her sad demeanor melted away. Fury flashed in her eyes and she grabbed him by the collars of his trench coat. "Don't. Call. Me. Patricia!" she screamed, and threw him violently aside. Her physical form began to dissolve, evaporating into the wispy vapors of her ghostly mien. I will never be her! I will never be Wraith! Her misty hands clutched at a gossamer head. I hate her! I hate her! I hate her!
"Annabel," Remy called, seeing how she detested the alternative name. "Calm down--"
No! she shrieked.You don't know! You don't know! She began screaming, long wails of frustration and anger that echoed along the walls of Remy's mind.
He cried out from the pain, his and hers alike. She was hurting, badly, and it was affecting him as well. Her self-hate vibrated throughout his mind. "I won't know unless y'tell me, p'tite!" he shouted above her wracking cacophony. "Please--stop dis!"
I will not be her! the ghost continued to screech. I will not be Patricia! I am not a Velkonnen! I am not Wraith! I hate her!
How was he supposed to help her if she would not listen? How could he fix this? He knew he was the only one that could do it. He was the sole person she was willing to talk to. Clutching his head painfully, he stumbled onto his feet and tried to reach her. "Annabel, listen t'me. I'm y'friend. I wan' t'help you."
You can't help me! I'm good as dead! Theo makes sure of it! I hate this! I'll kill him! I hate her--this is all her fault!
With a great flash of light Remy was blinded and the pain increased tenfold. Then he was no longer in his own mind. He felt rough hands slapping his face and jerked agonizingly awake. He charged a card by instinct, holding it menacingly at Sabertooth.
The big feline stepped back, hands up, "I ain't the one going insane, Gumbo. Put the card down."
Remy groaned as he uncharged the card. He rubbed his head, waiting for his eyes to focus properly. A horrible migraine throbbed all over his skull. "Piotr," he croaked. "Where's Piotr?"
Sabertooth growled, "Comatose. You've been out for eight hours, Cajun. What's going on here? Everybody lost it?"
Remy struggled onto his feet, reminding himself to slap Sabertooth later for leaving him on the floor. He saw the unconscious Russian. He massaged his temples, trying to focus enough to think. The feelings Annabel gave him had not dissipated. He shuddered, remembering her anger and sadness, remembering her hopeless despair. She was not a heartless mutant predator.
I don't want to hurt people. I have to...or I'll die.
I will never be her! I hate her!
I'm as good as dead! Theo makes sure of it!
Realization crept upon him, cold and unrelenting. His eyes flashed with urgency. "Creed, pick up Piotr an' get him in a car. I'll take John."
"Why?" Sabertooth demanded. He did not take orders from anybody unless he was being paid.
"M'takin' dem t'de Institute," Remy said, eyes hard. He did not have time to deal with Creed's authority issues. "Unless y'want t'have two bodies t'look after, y'gon' help me haul dem outta here."
Sabertooth glared ferociously. But he only growled in irritation before moving to pick up Piotr's bulky form. Remy followed, dragging Pyro. They loaded one of the base's vans and Remy got in the driver's seat.
Sabertooth slammed the door shut and peered suspiciously at his teammate. "Don't know what you're playin' at, Gambit, but you better not do anything stupid." With another insolent growl he stalked back to the base.
Remy disregarded his comment and revved the engine. He was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to the X-Men.
Discomfort was too gentle a word to describe the feeling. Along with a pounding in the head, her neck was stiff and sore. Her shoulders felt as though they had been held for extended periods of time to freezing ice. She shivered and rolled onto her stomach, which stung with hunger. Her legs had fallen asleep. She shook them numbly and tried to sit up.
"Easy, 'Ro, you'll get a head rush."
Ororo blinked until her eyes adjusted to the darkness. "Logan," she sighed in relief. Her hands felt rough stone floor. She had been sleeping on it. Her muscles screamed with aching. "How long have I been out?" They were in a bare room without windows with stone walls. A pitifully dim light bulb provided minuscule light.
"Few days."
"Days!" she exclaimed and immediately wished she hadn't. Her hand found her head, trying to massage peace into the throbbing veins. "How..."
Logan sat, leaning against the hard wall, knees angled up and his arms resting on them. He sniffed irritably, "The Count's goons pumped us good with tranquilizers. Strong ones, too. Could've been used on a horse." He rubbed his neck and it was then Ororo noticed a strange metal collar around it.
She felt a similar one around her throat and stared down at the glowing blue light.
"It negates our powers," came Xavier's voice.
Ororo turned and was relieved to see the Professor sitting in his wheelchair. "Charles, are you all right?"
"I awoke a few hours ago," he said softly, hands clasped before him. A collar of the same metal design and fervent light also clasped his throat. "There is food by the wall if you are hungry."
Ororo did not hesitate to take the offer. She crawled over to the tray under the light bulb. It was laiden with water bottles, bowls, and Thermoses filled with soup.
"At least they take care of their prisoners," Logan said dryly. "You even get an escort to the bathroom. Armed and unfriendly."
"Why are they keeping us here?" Ororo asked. "I cannot recall what happened..." She frowned, rubbing her temples.
Xavier sighed, a troubled expression on his sagely face. "There is something I wish to share," he said. "I've been waiting for you to awake, Ororo."
Logan frowned, "What is it?"
"I had the chance to see into the Count's mind," the Professor said, "before the tranquilizer hit me. It seems that we have been wrong all along about Wraith."
Ororo exchanged dubious glances with Logan. "But how?" she asked. "The method of attack, your connection from the past...The Count even said it himself..."
Xavier sighed tiredly, "We were so keen to believe what we wanted. We overlooked the subtle trifles... Perhaps the Count is right, we do not see anything save what is right before our noses." He shook his head before continuing, "When we confronted him, we were talking about two different people--both parties referring to them as 'her'."
"What else would it be, 'he'?" Logan grumbled.
Xavier shook his head patiently. He understood the man's frustration. "It is not Patricia Velkonnen that has been terrorizing mutants."
Ororo's blue eyes widened, "What?"
"Wraith is dead," Xavier continued solemnly. "She has been dead for ten years, perished in the fire. They uncovered her remains near the woods where she had crawled. She was a very strong woman..." His eyes seemed to cloud over by the troubling thoughts. "The Count buried her in the family cemetery, where she has been dormant all these years."
Confusion was apparent upon Ororo's and Logan's faces. "How can that be true--"
"We failed to see that the Count is not protecting his wife," Xavier continued, "but someone else, someone just as precious to him. He keeps her in the States, away from Wraith's troubling past, and provides generous monetary support."
Logan and Ororo waited tensely for the Professor to continue.
"Wraith is not the only vampire mutant," he said tiredly. "She had a daughter before she died. A daughter..." He shook his head, hand covering his eyes.
Ororo suddenly lost her appetite. She looked at Logan, who appeared just as dumbfounded. They had been wrong all along. They had left the mansion into a trap, and now their X-Men were abandoned to deal with the consequences.
Oh, by the Goddess, Ororo thought fearfully. What will happen to the children now?
I am so far ahead in writing than what is posted. The chapters just have to be edited to make sure I'm sticking with the flow of the plot and development of the characters. Plus, I tend to change my mind about things or add in new stuff so I have to be careful about updating. But rest assured it's going to be great! Kinda funny actually, seeing how I read reviews about the earlier chapters and get confused because from my vantage point, so much more stuff has happened. I can't wait to give you guys the rest of this story! Ooh, it's killing me.
I can't believe I've received so many reviews!! I'm so excited that everybody is loving this fic! Reading all of your reviews seriously sends escstatis giggles up my throat--I feel like a giggly little school girl (which I kind of am, except for the giggly part). Reviews are something, huh? They're the only things that make me giggle like that--well, except for a guy of course. And if only I could find one just like Remy...sigh...
So if you want to give a humble girl some moments of giggly happiness, write more reviews as a minor tribute to her literary efforts. ;-)
Next Chapter: Distress
I am restraining my fingers from giving away hints...oh, it's hard...