Playing Identities
AN: Just a little change, Risty is still unknown to be Mystique, even though the public know the X Men are mutants. Risty was needed so I had to keep her. Also, I wrote this without realizing another mistake: Rogue knows Kurt is her adoptive brother, but, obviously as I said above, Mystique hasn't been found out. So let's pretend Rogue found out her relation to Kurt through the first time she absorbed Mystique's memories. I hate having glitches in my stories, but it's nothing major.
A beautiful summer's day warmed up the town of Bayville, and the shinning sun lit up the cloudless sky to bathe the High school in a ray of sunlight, heating the air to a pleasant temperature that felt good against bare skin. The smallest of breezes occasionally blew through the grounds, rustling the leaves on the few trees, and picking up strands of hair that got caught in its path.
Sat at their usual table, five mutants were discussing how unfair it had been of Principle Kelly to give Scott detention for defending himself against Duncan Mathews and his cronies. To Kelly, Scott had been the assaulter and Duncan the victim. It was lunch hour and, having already eaten their food, Jean, Scott, Evan, Kurt and Kitty had decided to sit outside, not wanting to miss such a nice Friday. In their usual daywear, they had stripped top layers in the heat, and had either slung them over the bench or tied them around their waists. They would have been enjoying the day more had they not been talking about their current and usual topic.
"It was Matthews who slammed into me," Scott grumbled with his head in one hand, using the other to pick at an empty Orange Juice carton on the wooden table. "Deliberately." His red shirt matched his shades, which flashed in the sunlight when he turned his head, casting the odd dancing light across the table. The sunlight bounced off his hair, giving it a natural shine.
"Kelly's a jerk," Kitty spoke up to no one in particular, giving her head a small flick that moved with the roll of her eyes. "He accused me of using my powers yesterday because I beat him around a corner and he didn't see me pass in the corridor." She made a face as a small dose of wind tried to lift her ponytail into the air. Her white shirt seemed to glow in the light.
"You should see zuh vay he stares at me," Kurt interjected, raising his eyebrows as eyes turned to him. "I'm just glad he doesn't know zuh truf. Zhere vas a close call yesterday vhen my inducer vas crushed against zuh vall – Duncan Maffews pushed me – and zuh Principle vas valking around zuh corner vhen it happened."
"He didn't see the blue you?" Evan asked, leaning one elbow on the table. His blonde hair reflected the sun, and much like Kitty's white top, shone and glowed in the light.
"No," he replied, glancing at him. "Duncan vas so busy laughing at me he valked straight into Principle Kelly and knocked him down." Kurt gave a smirk that didn't quite mask the look of nervousness he was obviously still feeling. He turned his eyes down to the table and sighed from the heat. Of the five of them, he was finding the heat a little suffocating with his fur. Most of the drink cartons of the table were his or Evan's.
"Don't worry about that, Kurt," Jean said kindly, knowing how Kurt was still afraid of such incidents happening. "Accidents like that only happen once." Her beautiful red hair shone cleanly in the sun, as did her clear green eyes.
Kurt smiled. "Yeah . . . but I'm not going to be able to escape every accident viv my secret still safe." Everything that could go wrong with or around his image inducer sprung to mind and he became glazed over, afraid some how it would malfunction.
His mutant friends knew this, and Kitty spoke quickly before he could fall too deep into his worst thoughts.
"Hey, Jean can sort it out with no problem," she reassured him. He knew this, but they often reminded him.
Kurt nodded, hoping the subject would change. He liked attention, but only certain kinds.
"Yeah, Kurt," Scott spoke with the same smile as Kitty's. "We're not called X Men for nothing, keeping secrets is what we do. Even if it means getting months and months of detentions." He grinned, raising a drink to his mouth.
"Vhat if you're freatened viv a year's vurf of detentions?" Kurt smirked.
Scott blinked behind his shades. "Uuum . . ." he pretended to think about it. "Maybe," he said, trying to keep his face straight. "Depends who they're with." Everyone sat unmoving for a second before a grin split across Scott's face and he and Kurt laughed.
They began to joke about the most ridiculous ways to avoid telling Kelly that Kurt was really blue and furry, letting their imaginations out for a trot. Their laughter reached across most of the yard, gaining a few glances from passing students. Their smiles and giggles started to die down after Evan mentioned he earned himself a detention for next week. Their earlier topic returned, and everyone started to look irritated again.
"He's just trying to catch us out," Jean spoke up, referring to Kelly's attempt to spot mutant activity in the corridors. "He's waiting for us to slip up so he can show everyone how 'dangerous' we are." She leant her arms on the table.
"And until then we're being framed, accused and punished for not slipping up big time," Scott said, sounding bitter, finally becoming bored with the carton and flicking it across the table, spraying Kurt with flecks of orange.
"You better hope Kelly didn't see that," Kitty said with a smile, resting her chin on her intertwined hands. "He'll, like, give you another detention for abusing an innocent orange juice carton."
They all chuckled lightly as a second small breeze ruffled everyone's hair. The five were glad it was a Friday, as the past week had been unusually long. Kelly seemed to have his beady eye on the Xavier Institute kids at all times. Evan hadn't skipped class once in two weeks, which was probably a record. Kurt had kept his head down and hands hidden under the eyes of the Principle. Jean and Scott had learned to glare back defiantly, and Kitty hadn't bothered to pay attention to any looks thrown her way. The weekend looked very welcoming.
Sat around the corner from the table, under the trees on the grass was Rogue, leaning against a tree trunk. She preferred the shade rather than the rays of the sun, but still, she could hear snips of the conversation from her friends.
"Phew, it sure is hot," said her British friend, having walked over to sit beside her. Risty smiled at the Goth and leant her own back against the trunk. Her purple hair gleamed in the sunlight that broke through the leafy roof. "Got any plans for the weekend, Rogue?"
Rogue continued to look ahead with a peaceful expression. "Yeah, two days of nothin' but relaxation."
"Sounds nice," Risty changed her position to sit on her knees. "Is that possible at your place?" She joked.
"Probably not, but ah c'n try," Rogue smiled. It was true that finding quiet time was going to be difficult, but everyone at the Institute knew Rogue enough to leave her alone when she wanted peace. "The noise at tha Institute is probably better than tha kinda attention we get here anyway."
Risty's smile faded somewhat, but still remained. How she hated humans and their prejudice towards anything different. Unfortunately the only way to be with her adoptive daughter was to pose as one. She sat there for a moment, watching the leaves nod in the breeze above, making the patterns of sunlight dance on the grassy floor. Risty's smile returned full and she leaned closer to her friend.
"Hey, wanna hit the mall after school today? Huh?" She asked. "C'mon, I'll buy ya a Sundae."
A content smile tugged at the corners of Rogue's lips. Being with Risty was pretty fun, she could admit to herself. Not many people could make her laugh and forget everything that made her miserable.
"Sure, whah not?" She agreed.
Periods five and six always seemed to stretch on forever, making the weekend seem as far away then as it did in the morning. Principle Kelly made sure every mutant got a good dose of his beady eye as he passed classrooms, and a couple more glares before the bell rang through the buildings, signaling the end of school. Kids filed out of classroom doors and filled the corridors, rushing to lockers or heading for the exit.
"Man that pavement is calling my name," Evan said as he walked out of class with Kitty towards their lockers, his jumper tied around his waist. "Today and tomorrow I can spend some real quality time with my skateboard."
"Quality time?" Kitty glanced side long at him, hugging her books. "You spend more time with that thing than you do at the Institute."
They both reached the lockers and shoved their books in their bags. Evan plunged his hand into his backpack and pulled out his knee and elbow pads, and clipped them around his joints.
"What – you guys don't miss me now, do you?" Evan asked with a smile. He knew his aunt did, she liked to remind him how little she saw him everyday.
"How can we? We don't know you," Kitty told him sarcastically. "In fact we only notice when you're missing from Danger Room sessions." She slung her bag over her shoulder.
"Whatever," Evan said, taking out his helmet and fitting it on his head.
"Hey, Scott –" Kitty called to the older teen as he almost walked past. "Can I catch a ride with you?"
"Sure," Scott answered. "You'll make two, I'm giving Kurt a lift. I'm not sure about Rogue, though."
"What about Jean?" Kitty asked as, next to her, Evan took out his dear skateboard.
"She's taking off for the library, I'm picking her up later."
"Oh – " Evan said suddenly to himself. "I forgot something." He dropped his board and hopped on it, pushing off down the corridor. The crowd of students flocking out had thinned, giving the skateboarder room to roll.
"Hey, Rogue," Scott called to his friend as he and Kitty walked up to her further along the lockers. "Are you catching a ride with us?"
Rogue shook her head. "No thanks, ah'm headin' off ta tha mall with Risty. Tell the Prof ah'm gonna be a lil' late."
Scott nodded and walked on to the doors with Kitty, as Rogue remained standing next to her locker waiting for her friend.
Finally after seven minutes in which almost everyone had disappeared, a wave of purple hair bounced down the corridor as Risty ran towards her.
"Sorry I'm late," she said, a little out of breath. "I forgot my bag." She gave her left shoulder a shrug; slung over it was the strap of her backpack.
"It's okay," Rogue told her as they started walking to the end of the corridor. Rogue pushed open the doors, and found herself surprised to see Scott and Kitty waiting with Scott's car. "What are ya guys still doin' here?"
The red shades flashed in the light as Scott lifted his head to look at the two girls. His expression was one of patience wearing off.
"Waiting for Kurt," he said, uncrossing his legs form his leaning position against the red paneling. "He was catching a ride back home, but he hasn't shown up."
"Ah thought ya was givin' Jean a lift?" Rogue frowned slightly as she and Risty walked down the steps and stopped in front of him.
Scott jerked a thumb over his shoulder with a small shrug. "She headed to the library, I'm picking her up at five." He crossed his arms and looked at his watch. "Where the hell is that fuzz ball?"
Rogue gave a little shrug, looking about as though expecting to see Kurt walking towards them. The grounds were empty apart from two other people walking from around the side of the building.
"Fuzz ball?" Risty muttered, repeating what Scott had said.
"His hair is frizzy," Rogue explained quickly, not looking at her.
Behind the two girls, the front doors opened and Evan walked out with his skateboard under one arm and his unbuckled helmet on his head. He noticed the group and jogged down the steps.
"Hey Scott, you still waiting for Kurt?" He asked, coming to a halt next to Risty's right side. Before Scott could answer, Evan continued. "He thought you'd have left by now, or else taken Jean – Principle Kelly thought he'd fouled the corridor because it spelt of brimst –" he caught himself (they weren't supposed to use powers in school), " – of something gross, so he took him to his office. He should be out – "
The doors opened again and everyone looked back at them to see Kurt pressing his back against them as though barricading them. He then leapt down the steps, landing in a crouched position next to Evan.
"That was good," Risty muttered, impressed by his nimble leap. Rogue, being the only one who heard, glanced at her a little nervously. She hadn't told Risty what Kurt really looked like.
"Sorry," Kurt said to Scott as he stood up straight and put a hand on the back of his neck. "Principle Kelly stopped me in zuh corridor for no reason! He hates me."
"He hates every mutant," Kitty grumbled, leaning her elbow on the edge of the car door.
"Alright, can we head home now?" Scott asked impatiently, walking around his car and getting into the drivers side. He slammed the door as Kurt vaulted into the back seat. Kitty snapped her seatbelt around her and Evan clipped his helmet straps.
"Vait – Rogue, aren't you coming back to zuh mansion?" Kurt asked, looking up at her.
"Nah, ah'm heading ta tha mall with Risty," she answered over the car engine as Scott started her up. "See ya later." Scott pulled the car away with Evan clinging on to the back, and out of school grounds where Spyke let go and took off in a different direction. Both him and the car disappeared around a corner. Rogue turned back to her friend. "Man, Risty, you looked a lil' worried back there," she said as they started walking.
Risty's eyebrows rose quickly, surprised. "Had I – ?"
"You suddenly remembered homework or somethin'?" Rogue said interpreting Risty's expression wrong. She had read her concern, but not the reason why Mystique had suddenly felt cold. Why had she felt a pang of panic at the sound of Kurt's absence? A possible idea occurred to her turning her insides cold. But she shook herself mentally and pushed the thoughts away, calling the feelings paranoia.
"Yeah," she answered Rogue finally. "An evil paper I thought I had to hand in Monday. Luckily not."
They arrived at the mall ten minutes later, hot from the sun's rays and the weight from their bags. A nice cold sundae was sounding very welcome.
As Rogue and Risty entered the building they could see they weren't the only students from school who had decided to hit the mall. A group of kids were sat at tables in the food court, and a few others were cruising through the first level stores. Risty dragged Rogue to get their ice cream first.
"Ah could get used ta one a' these every day," Rogue said a minute later as she sat down at an unoccupied bench with her paid sundae.
Risty grinned and sat down next to her. "So could I." It was not the sundae she was so happy about, but that she actually got time to spend with Rogue, with no worries or anything troublesome getting in the way.
They didn't stay at the mall for very long, since Rogue had nothing to spend and Risty didn't have much anyway. After checking out a few stores for the sake of passing time, they began to make their way out of the building. The weather had changed from hot to warm, but there was a black cloud journeying their way.
"Ya c'n come back ta tha mansion, if ya like," Rogue offered, watching two small kids run across their path. "It's usually quiet on a Frahday, most of tha new recruits stay out."
"Best time of day, huh?" Risty grinned. She was careful whenever she was inside the Institute, just in case someone picked up her scent – or lack of. Her only defense in that place was the art of deception.
"Yeah, it's tha only tahm we get –" Rogue stopped; eyes focused on the treetops. She could have sworn she had seen the flash of a red beam.
"What is it?" Risty's voice broke through her light daze. She was concentrating on that point in the sky. Maybe she was seeing things.
"Nothing," Rogue said, looking away from the treetops. C'mon, it's a nice enough day for tha pool if we get there before that rain cloud does."
The two girls started walking back to the mansion, finding one or two topics to talk about along the way. These were the times Mystique really felt close to happy. She could walk down a street with her daughter, talking like normal friends, gaining snip-bits of information about Rogue that she concluded from talk, and be treated like a real friend. Being Risty was perhaps in a way better than being Mystique, but did she just want the friend-to-friend relationship? No, she wanted the Mother to Daughter relationship. However, Mystique knew that was not going to happen.
Without realizing it, the journey to the Institute had ended, and Risty focused on the droning at the back of her mind until it became clear enough for her to realize it was Rogue's voice talking to her. Risty quickly put on a smile and nodded at Rogue's conversation as they climbed the steps leading up to the front doors of the Institute.
They entered the empty foyer and walked straight to the kitchen for a cold drink. The heating in the mansion had been turned off, but it was still warm as they walked through the hallway. It seemed strangely quiet with no mutants running around, shouting and laughing. But as Rogue had said, Friday evenings were usually like this.
" . . . and with Logan's trainin' sessions in tha Danger Room ah doubt ah'll be getting much time ta maself," Rogue continued her conversation as she grabbed two cold sodas from the refrigerator, and Risty sat herself down at the table. Mystique was whole glad Rogue had decided to share her mutant secret with Risty, it meant something to the shape-shifter.
"Oh well," Risty said carefree like. "At least you guys have fun in there, right?"
Rogue slammed the fridge door shut as she turned around and handed the soda to her friend. One eyebrow rose. "Fun? With Logan installin' everything from lasers ta flamethrowers? It's more painful than fun – "
At that minute Bobby appeared at the door, with apprehension written on his usually cool features. He glanced at Risty before turning his eyes to Rogue. Before he could say anything though, Rogue spoke before him.
"Bobby, what're ya doing back here? Ah thought ya were out with Jubilee ev'ry Friday?" She asked, tucking back the hair that had fallen over her eyes.
"I would've been, but there's been an accident," he said in a tone that was serious for him.
Rogue immediately stiffened. "What? What kinda accident – is anybody hurt?"
Bobby nodded, eyes fixed on hers. "Yeah – Scott and Kitty were banged up pretty badly. I don't know much detail but Scott's car got wrecked, too. They're both in the infirmary – Kitty and Scott, not the car –"
Rogue moved towards the door, intent on heading to the infirmary as Risty rushed to catch up with her, leaving their sodas in the kitchen. Bobby took off with them, explaining how he happened to be home anyway because his plans for an evening out were cancelled. Risty, straying a step behind Rogue and Bobby, wondered with curiosity just what accident Charles had let happened to his precious X Men.
They moved quickly from the ground floor down to the infirmary, seeing two figures outside, talking.
"Professor," Rogue called as the trio neared.
Charles Xavier turned around with a mechanical hum in his wheelchair. Stood next to him with a worried expression was the redhead Jean. Her posture alone told them she was worried.
"Professor, wha' happened?" Rogue asked as she came to a halt in front of him, with Bobby on her left and Risty on her right.
"We're not completely sure," the older man spoke in his calming voice, even though his face held the concern his voice tried to hide. "Scott and Kitty seemed to have been attacked when they were on their way here from school. By who, we don't know. We must wait for them to tell us"
"They're gonna be alright, right?" Bobby asked, leaning forward just slightly in hopes of a positive answer.
The professor closed his eyes and nodded. He looked back at his students and for the first time noticed Risty stood beside Rogue. "Risty, would you mind leaving us for a few minutes," he asked her as politely as he could manage.
Risty nodded, and before she turned, glanced at Rogue. Then she walked away and around the corner, listening to her own footsteps as they took her to the elevator and stairs. She pressed the button in the elevator to take her up, but she stepped out before the doors closed, and crept silently back down the corridor. She stood hidden behind the corner and listened, curious about what had happened. She hoped Xavier would be too concerned about current events to catch her with his telepathy.
The Professor, having been listening to Risty's departure, let out a small sigh as he heard the elevator rise to the floor above. He then looked back at Rogue and Bobby.
"Kitty and Scott appear to have been knocked out by a dart of some kind," he told them as Jean watched their reactions, too. "Mr. McCoy is analyzing the substance contained in them just in case it was more than a tranquiller. But . . . apparently they suffered a beating before – or even after – they were shot." Professor X lowered his eyes to the floor and gave it a controlled glare, obviously disturbed by this sudden and unprovoked attack. His fingers found themselves looped together as they always did when the telepath was thinking.
"I sent a telepathic message to everyone else," Jean said, talking a step forward to come level with the Professor's chair. "They'll be returning to the Institute any minute now. I hope no one else met any trouble." She wrung her hands together in worry
A few seconds of silence followed next, after which time Rogue's brow furrowed into a frown. She looked back up at the Professor, who was still gazing pensively at the floor.
"What about Kurt? Is he okay?" She asked, and the two telepaths looked at her.
"What do you mean?" Jean asked, a note of unease in her voice.
"Kurt was in tha car with Kitty and Jean," Rogue continued, feeling a horrible sensation in the pit of her stomach.
"Well he – he wasn't with Scott and Kitty," Jean said, the worry in her face growing so strong Rogue's own features started to mimic them. Next to her the Professor's fingertips were at his temples and his eyes were shut. "He could have teleported home before it happened – go and check his r – "
"No," the professor said in a quiet tone, and all eyes switched back to him. "He's not in the mansion . . . nor is he near." He took his fingers away from his head and opened his eyes. There was something none of his students had ever seen in his eyes. It looked like fear.
"What . . .?" Rogue breathed.
A quiet call from the Infirmary caught their attention, and they all turned towards the room. Scott was awake.
Those that could walk rushed into the room to his side while the Professor rolled quickly after them. There were two beds in the white infirmary, on the first lay Scott. They stood by his bed, noticing the injuries that spoilt his skin. He was still dressed in the attire he wore for school, only now there were tears in his red shirt and jeans, and his face sported a black cheek.
"Professor?" Scott murmured in a sluggish tone; his brow knotted together in confusion. "A – am I in the infirmary?"
"Yes, you are," Professor X answered, relived his student was awake. However, it pained him to see Scott in the state he was.
Scott's brow twitched again as though there was a bright light he was squinting against. His vision must have been blurred or unclear. His head rolled to its left side, to the sound of the Professor's voice.
"What happened?" He asked weakly. His mind was a blank. All he felt was confusion. In the back of his mind he knew he had been injured.
"You were attacked, Scott," Jean answered for him, crouching down beside his pillow, her face lined with concern. "Do you remember anything?" She strongly hoped he hadn't gained a concussion.
Something flashed in his mind and Scott blinked, his lips parted as another, more vivid image passed through his memory. Suddenly, as though a river dam had broken in his head, the attack rushed back in a swirl of memories and feelings.
"These –" he paused a beat, "– these men attacked us as we were driving home." His shades flashed again as his head moved, taking a second or two to continue. It was as though he was trying to put the story together by way of sorting the images in his memory. "We stopped off at GutBombs, Kurt wanted a burg – wait – Professor!" He shot up from his pillow, and immediately regretted doing so as a sharp pain stabbed at his brain, throbbing at his right temple. But he ignored it; he had something important to tell. "Those men attacked us and they – they took Kurt – did you get them? Did anybody get them? Where's Kitty – is she alright – ?"
"Calm down, Scott," Professor X commanded in a firm tone, louder than usual. "Kitty's going to be fine," he added in a quieter voice, sorry he could not speak up for Kurt's well being.
Scott's vision was clear now, even if his head felt worse. He stared at his audience, alarmed there wasn't a furry elf among them. His cheek was throbbing painfully and his right temple was still pounding. But he didn't care about any of this.
"Did you hear me?" He suddenly said, breathing now as though he had been running. "I said they took Kurt! We've gotta go find him –" He threw back his bed sheets and swung his legs down before Jean's hand appeared on his shoulder, and Bobby's on his other, each applying pressure; urging him back into bed.
"Where do you suggest we look, Scott?" The Professor asked wearily. The news of his kidnapped student was indeed upsetting, and so were the wild actions of another. The most the Professor could do at this minute was ensure that Scott's health was returned to normal, and that wouldn't happen if he was panicking without a clue what he was doing.
The answer to that question was one Scott didn't have. The teen remained leaning towards the exit, breathing audibly while thinking of this situation. They had no information about their attacker, no reason for the assault. Scott felt worse than when his head was pounding furiously a minute ago. He had lost a teammate – a friend – because he had not been prepared. All those Danger Room sessions on the element of surprise! And he falls down in battle after one minute of combat.
Scott allowed himself to be pushed back down, and the Professor wheeled closer to his bedside.
"Now, Scott," he said carefully. "Think. What did these men look like? Can you remember anything specific about them?"
Scott blinked, though no one saw it. His entire frame froze for a second as he rewound his memory back, ignoring the pain again, until he remembered the attackers' appearance.
"They wore suits," he frowned hard. "Like they were government agents or something . . . That's pretty much all I can remember. They knew enough to stand in close proximity to me. I couldn't hit them properly – they were too near." He paused and let out a breath. "I damaged my own car more than they did. . ."
"What did they do ta Kurt?" Rogue asked urgently in a raised voice.
Scott looked her as if for the first time. "He was shot before anything happened – he was shot with a dart, when we were still in the car. Then about ten guys in suits appeared from no where and attacked – I should have been protecting him," Scott felt the blame was all his. "I was so stupid – gah, I should have been prepared!" He ran a hand through his hair and held it there, glaring at nothing.
"Scott, none of this is your fault," the Professor told him in a strong voice. "And it doesn't help your state or the problem if you are blaming yourself. I suggest you get some rest, I leave you to tell Kitty what has happened . . ." He turned away from the bed and, leaving the teenagers, rolled out of the infirmary. Hank McCoy was waiting outside; his hair ruffled as though he had driven his hands through it recently.
"It was just a simple knock-out dart," he told the Professor as the mechanical humming of Charles' chair stopped to listen. "The most damage it does is a headache and probably a feeling of sickness. It depends how certain people react to it. But they'll be fine."
Professor X nodded. "Thank you, Hank." He stared at the floor, deep in thought and worry.
Risty, who had been listening to everything that was said, quietly and carefully retreated down the corridor to the stairs, her footsteps completely silent. She took the steps quickly and stealthily, and when she was sure she was out of earshot, began running. She stormed her way out of the mansion, and once outside, broke into a run. Rage boiled inside her, her temples pounded as she ran past some of Charles Xavier's mutant kids returning home. The X Men hadn't a clue where her son was, or who had taken him; but Mystique knew. Oh she knew. Miles had been warning her for a while now that the government were getting tired of asking her and meeting her refusal over and over. Miles, the man who worked with them, warned her to take the offer – that these people who wanted to recruit her would do anything. She had never thought they would try something like this.
Mystique was furious. The Summers boy had been attacked by the government's goons; it was then that Mystique realized what had happened. What fueled her fury was that Miles knew they would do this. That's why he had been warning her so often – and she stupidly ignored him! She wanted to scream in rage at the human world. How dare they try and use her by taking her son. Mystique, who was not afraid to tear their hearts out. Nobody uses her like that. They would surely see that she couldn't be tricked simply by kidnapping someone. The shape-shifter briefly thought about how capable the X Men thought they were. Perhaps they could find Kurt and deal with the CI Unit themselves. She wouldn't have to bother herself with it at all. But Mystique knew they had no clue what was happening. The reason her son was missing was because of her. Because of her ignorance and the CI Unit's determination. Her blood boiled again. She knew she should have been angrier at the disappearance of her son than at the fact some bastards from the government thought they would have her. But Mystique prided herself of being that tough bitch that no one would argue with, and now it was like they had just won round ten and left the table with a smirk. Her fury returned full. It seemed cold hearted, but her son meant nothing to her at this minute than an object of leverage.
The shape-shifter found herself running down the drive of her Boarding house. She shifted form from Risty to her blue skinned self, clothed in her black outfit as she stormed towards the door. Her rage had built up energy in her limbs and she felt the strong urge to lash out at something – to attack.
Her first victim was the front door. She thrust her foot into it, taking it clear off its hinges, and stomped over it across the threshold, making her way into the kitchen.
Todd dived out of the way before he was trampled, and unfortunately didn't aim before takeoff and leapt headlong into the staircase. He gave a comical whimper as he found his feet again, and Lance poked his head out of the living room curiously.
Mystique entered the empty kitchen, and had she not been so worked up, would have found it strange that Freddy was not in there.
"Auughh!" She upturned the table to let off a bit of steam and stood breathing heavily, more so from her anger than the run. She looked at the door to see two male faces glancing in. "Get out," she ordered in her low voice, and they immediately disappeared. Mystique turned her back to the door, glaring at nothing. Her utmost desire at this particular minute was to rip apart whoever had thought they could do this to her. She wondered why, if they knew so much about her, they had chosen this action. Surely they knew she was not going to take this nicely? She was pretty sure everyone who knew her, knew never to anger her like this. It was certain death for whoever did.
The shape-shifter placed her forearms on the wall and leant against them, hanging her head. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders as she glared at the floor, feeling more control of her anger. Charles was probably going to be suspicious to find no Risty waiting in the mansion, and who knew if he had tried to tap into her mind for a second out of curiosity? If he had then her secret was out, and the only relationship with Rogue was dead.
This only made her temper rise, and she gritted her teeth. Muffled voices floated from the living room, but she ignored them. She had a problem, one that only she could solve, and she had to think. Her usual tactic for this kind of situation would involve imitating several identities to infiltrate whatever location she had to. That was easy. But this was the government, and this special branch was as cunning and as smart as she was. They would have password protected locks, special keys that had to be turned simultaneously to others – just to enter a room – information on where each individual should be, God knows what else, and a location that couldn't be found unless escorted there. A slip up would mean failure, and there was plenty of room to wrongly place her foot.
Mystique lifted her head and took her arms away from the wall, turned and walked out of the kitchen to the door-less entrance. The voices in the living room stopped as she passed, and she continued out of the Boarding house and around the back. She walked at a steady, controlled pace, wearing an expression that might have suggested certain death to anyone she saw. She entered the area of trees she always found so peaceful, and carried on until she was at least half a mile from the house. Rain started to fall in a light shower, pattering against the dead leaves on the floor, masking her footsteps. Mystique kept her eyes straight ahead until she suddenly stopped. She knew where she had needed to come.
"Ah, Mystique," came a drawling voice that irritated the shape-shifter so much she felt the urge to lash out again. A thin, weedy looking man stepped out from behind a group of closely bunched trees, and sneered at the woman before him. He wore a long white lab jacket, over a moldy looking maroon sweatshirt and a pair of agley green/gray pants, held up with a black belt. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you." There was a trace of fascination in his eyes as they looked her up and down.
Mystique's hand flew up, aiming for his head. But it was caught in the fist of another man who appeared at his side. Mystique glared up into Miles' face. His expression was clear to read: he wasn't happy to see her again so soon, not like this.
The shape-shifter gave him a cold stare, and simply socked the weedy man's face with her other hand. Miles let go of her fist as the first human groaned from the floor where he'd fallen.
"Miles!" He shouted angrily as he held his nose and stumbled back to his feet.
"I'm not your bodyguard, Reily," the bigger man told him irritably, looking down at him.
The man known as Reily straightened up, checking his hand for blood. There was a drop or two on his palm but no more. Mystique wasn't happy about that. Reily looked back at her and forced a smile on his weasel-like face.
"I'm guessing that's your idea of a formal handshake," he said, locking his gray eyes with hers. He stared at her for a few seconds before saying, "I bet I know why you're here." His eyes glinted, now he was getting to the point of this unofficial meeting.
Mystique merely narrowed her eyes at him. If looks could kill, this man would have been vaporized.
"And I bet you already know what the agreement is going to be –"
"I told you," Mystique said through gritted teeth, "I'm not joining your pathetic CI Unit –"
"I know you told us," he cut right back in curtly. "But this Unit needs your, ah, talents for its more . . . in-depth assignments." He seemed to be taking pleasure in watching her burn with rage. "And I suggest you take a second to think about whose hands that crea – uh – the boy's life is in."
Mystique's backhand made a loud SMACK as it connected with Reily's face; she had thrown pretty much all her force into it. The shape-shifter glared at him, her narrow eyes radiating hatred.
Reily stumbled at the attack, wincing as his face exploded with pain. He stood up straight again with a hand on his second injury. His nose was still throbbing from the first assault. Miles did nothing but stand there, looking rather nervous, as though Mystique was a bomb about to go off when her rage reached the right level. He'd never seen anyone anger her like this and live past the next day.
"I suggest," Reily growled at her dangerously, "you watch your actions from now on. Your son isn't just strapped to a chair in a room, you know." Her jaw was jutted forward as she glowered. He glared right back, a trace of a smirk curling his mouth. "He's hooked to a neat little invention we like to call the Shocker. Recently created. Very painful." His smirk disappeared. "Your punishment will be his pain if you decide to retaliate against us." He leaned towards her. "I think you know what will happen to him if you don't cooperate . . ."
Mystique had known what he was about to say, and before he had even finished his sentence, she had stepped back enough for her to swing her leg straight out and around to his face. Unfortunately Miles' quick reflexes struck up, and he caught her foot in his hands. The force would probably have snapped Reily's neck.
"I think that," Reily said in a low voice, "will be counted for when we show you just what pain we can inflict on your son." He stepped back. "He pays for your actions, so I suggest you behave."
Mystique wrenched her foot from Miles' grip and glared at him, barely taking notice of Reily. The brawny man was an old 'friend', but she would not hesitate to kill him if she had to. He was a good fighter, but Mystique had proven better, and he knew it.
"What makes you think I care about this kid?" Mystique snarled at Reily. "I dumped him in someone else's hands at birth and haven't cared since."
Reily's face didn't change, but it was clear he was thinking about the truth in her words. She was evil, and it was very possible she didn't give a damn about her brat. But Miles' had told him to expect her cold-hearted nature.
"Perhaps the kid's life isn't what you should be concerned for. Maybe it's yours." He cocked an eyebrow as though expecting her to question him. Before she could, he continued. " When the X Men find their teammate dead, they're gonna be devastated. They'll investigate his death, and eventually they will discover the truth. That you let him die – killed him yourself, practically." He stopped to let his words float about. "You think after all the trouble and pain you've caused them, they'll let you walk away with murder? Something so serious? They'll hunt you down. And despite their views on life, they'll do humanity a favor and kill you."
Mystique glared at him silently. "The X Men would never have to guts to kill anyone, even me."
"Are you willing to prove that?"
Something passed over Mystique's yellow eyes that only Miles' could interpret as uncertainty. He knew Reily had hit the spot. Mystique was only on the lookout for herself, no one else. Miles' didn't believe she had feelings for this kid, and had told Reily just that. She was concerned for her life, and her life only.
A noise of something heavy and airborne met everyone's ears, and grew louder. Miles and Reily seemed to have been expecting it, but Mystique glanced up as a high wind picked about. Leaves blew around as a helicopter appeared above. They could only just see it through the leaves of the trees, but it was low enough to make out. It began to fly away, searching for a suitable place to land.
"Shall we go now?" Reily asked with a grin, turning back to the shape-shifter. After so long of waiting for this mutant to join their ranks, the time had finally come.
Mystique stared with a leveled gaze as the small distant helicopter lowered out of view. Her eyes returned to Reily in a hard glare, and she knew the only way of finding her son was to go with them. Reluctant to go, she simmered on the spot for a few silent seconds before commanding her feet to take her forward. The weasel faced man in front of her smiled triumphantly, and it took all of her self-restraint not to knock his head off. She couldn't recall a time when one person had made her so angry – nor could she think of a time when someone thought they could use something against her. Oh, how she was going to make him wish he'd never messed with her . . . But among the eruptions of anger and hatred in her mind, something tingled her, something rare yet not unfamiliar. Had Reily been bluffing about this Shocker invention he mentioned? Was her son really hooked up to a machine that can cause pain? That tingling feeling was concern, something she wasn't used to and didn't like. She was a hard woman, and the thought of possessing such feelings made her uneasy – the last thing in the world she wanted to be. Reily would pay dearly for the discomfort he was bringing down on her.
They walked for one minute towards the sounds of the blades belonging to the copter. At last they emerged from the trees, Reily leading the way with Miles bringing up the rear. The weedy man ducked under the rapid motion of the blades, and opened the side door, turning back expectantly to the shape-shifter.
Mystique hesitated. This was her only way to rescue someone whose location was a mystery: to walk in with the capturer. Couldn't she just leave and cast aside the concerns for Kurt? He was taken from her once, had she actually missed him in that time? Was she lying when she said she hadn't cared about him? Could he be taken from her again without causing pain? Cursing herself, Mystique knew the answer. The blue skinned mutant walked towards the copter.
Once seated with Miles on her right and the poor excuse for a human in front of her, the door was slammed shut, locked securely, and the copter began to climb into the air.