Okay, I've decided that I'm going to take this story through the second movie. Yay! I have a plot!

Gremblin: Ooh, we all knew that Scott was his little fuck toy. We just wouldn't admit it.

Chapter 8: I think I know where I'm going! Yay!

Mort's POV:

Mystique decided it was time for us to go home. Jean had told us that I'd need at least another week, but with furious yellow eyes she had explained that being here would only make me sicker. She was shoving things into our bags, not caring about what was going in. I wouldn't be surprised if she accidentally packed some of the X-Men's things on accident. "So much for manner's, huh?" she grunted. I was propped up on the bed, while I watched her make war with the bags at my feet.I hadn't talked much since I woke up. Didn't really feel like it, I guess.

This whole thing- my helplessness, her anger- reminded me of when she found me. I'd just gotten caught by an anti-mutant gang, and the bartender at a mutant-friendly bar had dragged me inside to the radiator. She had walked in, and saw me right away. "Who's that?" she asked the bartender. I was shaking, and clinging to the rumbling machine like I was clinging to life. "Dunno," he said, "Just found 'im outside. Beat pretty bad. Gangs 'ere are nasty." I watched her through the corner of my eye, as she transformed to normal, and walked towards me. I didn't know what she wanted with me, and I started to shake even harder. Between my heart pulsing through every wound on my body, the room going out of focus, and the radiator shuddering beside me, I felt like a jackhammer. "Hello," she spoke softly, "who are you?" The echo in her voice was eerie, yet soothing. It bore itself down into me so that I thought I might cry. "Mortimer," I whispered. She reached a hand out, and touched my face. She had touched me- willingly. "Mortimer," she repeated, "What have they done to you?" I was a small boy, and dangerously thin, but still the ease with which she swept me into her arms was impressive. My ear was pressed against her breast bone, and I felt the vibrations as she calmly spoke to me: "Come with me, Mortimer. I'll take care of you."

Now, as I lay there watching her, I felt that once more she was taking me out of a hostile place, and into her warming arms to take care of me. Any second I knew that she was going to touch my face, and ask, "Mortimer, What have they done to you?"

Mystique zipped the bags forcefully, and tossed them by the door. She gave me my pills and a Dixie cup of water, and then helped me up gently. "C'mon, Mort. Time to go home." She flung open the door, and we paused.

"I'm afraid that Mr. Toynbee is in no condition to leave at the moment," said Professor Xavier, who was sitting outside the door, "Doctor Grey had expected him to stay another week at least."

"Get out of our way, Xavier," snarled Mystique, "I'm not keeping him here one minute longer."

"I understand that you don't have a high opinion of our institute; however, I cannot let you endanger Mr. Toynbee's health."

"Being here will endanger his health! You people will send him to an early grave!" she started to help me out the door, but the old man's wheelchair pulled into our path.

The man was really pissing me off. "Oy!" I shouted angrily, "Screw off, old man. Yer fuck toy, Scott'll be gettin' lonely about now."

Suddenly my chest got very tight, and I felt myself hiss in pain. "That is exceptionally disrespectful, Mr. Toynbee," he said in his usual calm state, but I could sense the malice beneath it, "If you continue to act with hostility, we may have to take into consideration where we house you."

The tranquilizer dart came out of nowhere, but was in Mystique's neck in an instant. They didn't need one for me, I knew. I braced myself for the pain that the ground would bring when they kicked my legs out from under me. The hands that picked me up were much gentler than they could have been.

"Sorry, kid," came Wolverine's gruff voice. The fall had knocked the wind out of me, so I could hardly wheeze in response.

He carried me like I weighed nothing, like Mystique had- to the basement, and the cells.

And I felt so pathetic.

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