Chapter 6: Pyro

Darkness outside, darkness within. A single light over his desk, papers all around. Other people saw this as chaos. Doctor Marco saw chaos as organization in its truest, rawest form. So, in a sense, other people were right.

He read the email again.

Senator James Duro of South Carolina to Doctor Lucas Marco, San Antonio Hospital, Brazil,

Greetings. As you may already know, the United States Senate is leaning towards are more tolerant standpoint on the issue of mutant rights. The strange and inexplicable turnaround of our most staunch supporter, Senator Kelly, has greatly impacted our cause. Your experiments with mutants, though ethically reprehensible in the view of many in the United States, are, I feel, necessary in procuring a weapon with which to fight this imminent threat. You will, I hope, continue to share your results with us, without any danger of your identity being revealed. Keep in consistent contact, Doctor. Ours is a righteous cause and the enemy will, with your help and persistence, be dealt with as soon as possible.

Yours sincerely,

James Duro

Senator, South Carolina

Public Relations Officer, The Guard

Well, wasn't that something? He hadn't been in contact with the United States Senate in over six months. The last he'd heard was from Senator Kelly informing him that his services were no longer required. Duro, though not a name he was keenly familiar with, was a man to be trusted, be remembered Kelly saying once. And a member of The Guard as well…considerable.

Doctor Lucas Marco was a United States citizen, forced to stop his experiments with mutants in late 1998. He had moved to Brazil, where his experiments were less controversial. The Brazilian government was more interested in his work and not as concerned with its ethical implications. When Senator Kelly had been elected to office he had contacted Marco and requested all the information he had on mutants. Kelly was going to the means by which Marco's work would finally receive the laud and appreciation it deserved.

So Kelly had said.

Then something had happened. Kelly had had some kind of moral awakening, decided that mutants were "our brothers." They deserved the same rights of citizenship "we all so richly partake in." He had abandoned Marco.

Marco had been disappointed but hardly dissuaded from continuing his experiments. Continue them he had and he was reaching new heights, new levels of understanding. He picked up his phone and called someone who would have a better idea of what to do.

"Weir? Yeah, it's me, Marco." He listened and laughed. "You got on too, huh? Do you know anything about this Duro, Rhys? No…neither do I. Well…yeah…sounds pretty convincing." He listened. "Yeah, I don't want another Kelly incident either. I suffered huge financial losses after that."

Huge financial losses…huge! The last thing, the very last thing he ever thought about, the last thing on his mind before death overtook him—were huge financial losses!

She came out of nowhere, maybe the ceiling, and thrust her teeth into his neck. The poison acted immediately and he died.

"How did go?" Pyro asked. He'd been sitting in their dinky hotel room for more than three hours, waiting for her.

"He's dead," Eden replied. "What's for dinner?"

"A Brazilian delicacy," he answered, lifting up the greasy paper bag and shaking it. "McDonald's."

"Fine with me." She took it and picked at the fries. "There was so much information on his computer. Including," she reached into her pocket, "this."

He read the printed email carefully. "Sounds like another hit for us."

She shook her head, taking it back. "It's harder to hit a Senator in D.C. than a no-name doctor in Brazil. It would have to look like an accident. Marco's death can look like murder and people will suspect exactly what went on. A mutant killed him, revenge for his experiments." Eden shrugged, biting into the cold chicken sandwich.

"Give me that," Pyro reached and took the sandwich. He made a flame in his hand and held the sandwich over it. "Fire can look like an accident," he mused. He gave her sandwich back to her.

"Thanks," she said. "Much better," she bit into it and smiled. She chewed contemplatively and swallowed. "Magneto will know what to do."

"Yeah."

"Anything to drink?"

"Ah," Pyro replied playfully, "I have brought us the great American drink." He pulled out a six pack with Portuguese writing on it. He shrugged. "It's still beer, no matter what language it's in."

"Too true!" she laughed. They split the beer between them. The six pack was gone in forty five minutes. Eden lay back on the bed, Pyro was on the floor, making small fireworks above his head.

"John," she said suddenly. She never called him John. He sat up. "Yeah?" he responded.

"What do you feel when you kill someone?"

He thought about it. The question was strangely put. What did he feel? "I don't know," he tried to avert it.

"I feel powerful," Eden said. "Do you think that's wrong?"

"Wrong? Wrong like, against God wrong, or mentally wrong?"

She turned over, leaning on her elbow. "I guess I mean like God wrong."

He leant back against the bed, looking upside down at her. "You'd have to believe in God for it to be God wrong."

"You don't?

Pyro flinched. "No."

Eden said nothing for awhile. She seemed to mull over what he said. Without looking at her, he knew her eyes were downwards and she was biting her lower lip, as she often did what she was thinking. "I do."

She slid down next to him on the floor. "You do too."

Her presumption made him angry. "No, I really don't."

"Pyro, just because you're mad at God doesn't mean you don't believe in him."

He just stared at her. Why was she right? Always right? It made him furious! She knew him better than anyone did, better than the Professor, and he could read minds! Eden didn't need to read his mind to know him, know his thoughts. Why was that?

"Don't be angry, Pyro, please. We won't talk about it anymore," she said.

"No, it's fine," he said through his teeth. "You're right. I'm mad at God. You know why? You don't know that too, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Because I'm me. And He made me. And that's why I'm mad at God." He looked away. Were there tears in his eyes? No, no, no. He would not—but he was…crying.

Eden took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

He didn't know why, but laughed just then. He laughed and laughed and the tears fell onto her hands. "Yeah, I guess it is." She laughed too and he kissed her.

She stopped. She still smiled. He could gauge her reaction. She said nothing. She got up and turned down their beds. "It's time to sleep," Eden said.

"I just kissed you."

"I know."

She looked at him, no expression evident but quiet amusement at his confusion. "Oh…kay…," he muttered. "It's…time to sleep I guess."

She nodded and lay down, covered herself and turned away from him. "Good night Pyro."

He stood there. Should he just jump into bed with her? It was a fleeting fantasy that quickly ended with him receiving a series of very painful bites. Good night? "Yeah…right."

For the first time in what seemed like years, Toad was able to open his eyes on his own. He was conscious. He knew where he was and what was happening to him. Then, the lights went out. He stood up.

"Mortimer, can you find us?" This was the first time he had heard the Voice clearly and distinctly, not the usual echo in his mind. "Can you find us?" he asked again.

He was blind! He could see nothing! No matter. He breathed through his nose.

He could smell nothing! Disorientation overtook him. He was senseless. No smells, no sights.

An electric shock pulsed through him. "Find us Mortimer!" said the Voice. But he heard it everywhere. He could not pinpoint the location of the Voice. He stood there like a fool, blind, deaf and dumb!

"You fucking coward," he growled.

Another electric prod! His reflexes should have stopped that from happening a second time, but without his senses he had no reflexes. He felt normal, but his reaction time was stinted. He turned to where the prod had come from. Then it hit him in the back. He spun around.

"Where are you!"

"Right here," the Voice whispered in his ear. Toad reached out to grab the Voice but there was no one there. Nothing but another electrical prod. God, what was happening to him!

The darkness was full and frightening.

"How weak you are, Mortimer, when your powers are held at bay!" the Voice taunted.

"Yeah, that's what you think." He charged at nothing. He smashed whatever he came in contact with. He was sure he killed someone. He broke computers and tables, sparks filled the air. He saw glimpses of blurry frightened faces. Finally, he was knocked out with a needle when they realized at last that the numerous electrical prods could not stop him.

I cannot remember the feel of your hand

Or the smell of your hair

Or the sound of your voice

But you were there!

I know in my soul

Despite all despair

You were there…

It was early morning. Montreal was cold! Magneto hadn't exactly gone all out with this apartment of their's. Still, it was a bed, it was a bathroom. But damn! It was cold!

He turned over in bed. Eden was still asleep. She was shivering in her dreams. He pulled the covers over her bare shoulders and back.

They had arrived late last night. They weren't scheduled to act until later this evening. It all had to be just right. Personally, Pyro didn't understand why they couldn't just blow stuff up and go! Why all this precise, meticulous scheduling?

At any rate, they were there early with nothing to do and no TV to watch. So, they had talked, as they often did. And then, he'd asked it—just to see what she would say.

"Remember when I first got here? Magneto said you'd give me anything I needed," he'd said. "How far does that go?"

She had half grinned, half grimaced. "How far do you want it to go?"

He'd kissed her and she had kissed back. He'd pushed her down on the bed. "Farther than this," he'd whispered. And they went…well, much farther than he had thought she'd actually go.

At Xavier's school, Pyro had been well liked. He knew he was thought of as 'attractive'. In a school like that though, where the guy in charge could read your mind and knew everything that went on with everyone, sex wasn't exactly a comfortable situation. Plus, the girls were difficult…they were so…independent. And Pyro, though liked and 'crushed on,' was not what the girls considered 'boyfriend material.' He was the 'bad boy.' They wanted a committed guy, who would sleep only with them. Needless to say, this night with Eden had been the most action he had gotten…in a very long time.

He must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing he knew his eyes were opening, the bleak sun was peeking in through the dirty shades and Eden was sitting up, her back to him, on the edge of the bed. She had her arms wrapped around her, resting her head on her knees.

"Hey," he said. "You alright?"

A nod.

He touched her back. She tensed. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she whispered. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

Pyro moved himself to her side of the bed and propped himself up on his elbow, looking up at her. She did not look at him. Her eyes were glazed over and focused blindly on nothing. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"I was just thinking…about…something."

"I'm not gonna get mad at you for thinking." She shivered. "I've got an idea," he said, getting up. He yanked his boxers and pants on. "Let's get out of here, get some coffee, warm up."

She nodded. "Sounds good to me."

He handed her clothes to her. She took them, still not looking at him. "I know what this is," he said suddenly. "Last night."

She looked up at him as she slowly got dressed. "What about it?"

"You're upset about it. We shouldn't have—"

"I'm not upset about anything."

"You're a fucking liar and you suck at it."

Eden stared at him. "You want to know?"

"Yeah, I want to know."

"Fine. Look, Pyro," she looked away. "Last night…it meant nothing to me. You understand?"

It hit him hard. He hadn't realized that it had meant something to him until that moment. He ran his hands through his hair ferociously. "Wait…wait a minute. Did you—was that a—a pity fuck?"

She sighed shaking her head. "No."

"It was!" Was he yelling? "Don't fucking lie to me!"

"I'm not!" she matched his pitch. "It wasn't a—it wasn't that. Not at all. I like you, Pyro. I'm just—".

"Just what? Following orders!"

"You asked me," she whispered.

"Goddammit! Would you fuck Magneto if he asked you to?" She just stared at him. His eyes widened. "Have you?" She said nothing. "Jesus Christ!"

He stormed across to the other side of the room and threw a chair. She let him. She just watched as he threw stuff. His stuff, her stuff. Finally she spoke.

"He's never asked me," Eden said. "I don't pity you, Pyro. You don't understand."

"I don't want to!" he screamed. "You—you're like fucking—I don't know what's wrong with you! What the hell is wrong with you! If I told to kill yourself because it would make me happy, would you do it!"

"You're being ridiculous."

He stepped up closer to her. He wanted to—he almost—

Eden raised her eyes to his. "Are you going to hit me?" she asked quietly.

He stood there and stared at her, then down at his own hands, tense and rigid, ready. It took everything in him not to do it. "You don't make sense to me. You lie there and you take it. You act like you enjoy it—"

"I didn't say that I didn't enjoy it."

"You just told me it meant nothing to you!"

"Because…it didn't! Don't you understand? I can't love you!" Her eyes flashed. "Why not!"

"Because I'm in love with someone else."

He stepped backwards and tripped over his own feet. He caught himself before he fell, grabbing onto the bed. "You are so fucked up!"

"Where are you going!" she screamed!

He threw his shirt on. "I'm gonna go blow something up!"

"John!" She ran towards him and he stopped her with a fire wall. "It's Pyro, Eden! I'm Pyro!"

He ran out of the hotel, he forgot his coat. He ran faster and faster. He ran to the mutant clinic, when he could have taken the bus. Breathing hard and hating harder, he stared at the façade. Clinic in name only. The inside truth was far darker than that. Mutants were tortured in there because they were looking for a 'cure.' The so-called doctors sucked money out of them as painful experiments disguised as science were performed on them. He thought of that, he thought of Eden, he thought of everything in the world that made him angry and thrust a huge fireball through the window.

"PYRO!" Eden cried, breathless from behind him. "We were supposed to wait!"

"I got tired of waiting!" he yelled over the screams and the roar of the flames.

She did something then, something he would not have expected. She ran for the door of the clinic. He grabbed her. "What the hell are you doing!"

"There are mutants in there! We were supposed to wait!" His grip weakened and she pulled away. She rushed into an opening in the flames and disappeared.

"EDEN!"

A long, loud, all too familiar whistling raced over him. The air pressure almost leveled him. It fanned the flames and another explosion burst through the opening Eden had found. "NO!" The X-Jet landed behind the clinic in an open field. Pyro pushed the flames aside and ran in after her.

The clinic smelled of death and burning flesh. He could control the fire, but he could not control the smoke. It entered his lungs and ate away at them. He coughed and coughed. He made a path for himself, the fire parting for him. "EDEN!" he called. "EDEN!"

He could not put the fire out either because it was feeding on other things now, oxygen tanks and paper, cabinet doors and desks. What he could do was not enough. And he was afraid…he was so afraid.

Bodies were strewn all about the place, legless, armless, headless. One of them might be hers.

Then the rain came, a great torrential downpour. The water doused the flames and as the smoke lifted he saw her. God, was she dead?

"John!"

He turned. He stood between Eden and Storm. There was an opening for him to escape. He took it.

Pyro smashed through the window to his right, the glass pierced his flesh, but he ran. He ran and ran and didn't look back.

If she was taken by the X-Men alive, they would care for her, better than he could. If she was dead, there would have been nothing he could have done anyway.

But to not know…

He ran faster. There was a flame in his whole being that he could not control. And it threatened to destroy him.