Chapter 7: Cobra

"I'm sorry."

"You're…sorry?" Magneto looked at him but looked at nothing at all. His whole being raged against this stupid, impulsive boy. "Do you realize…can you even understand…?"

What was he to say? What could he say?

"It was an accident."

"AN ACCIDENT!" Magneto slammed his fist down on the table.

Pyro yelled back. "Yes! An accident!"

The back of Magneto's hand met the boy's face. He felt the heat of his flesh, the anger and surprise as he struck him. He knocked Pyro to the floor. Blood flew out of his mouth.

He regretted it almost instantly. Pyro didn't move. He wiped at the blood with a clenched fist. "I said I was sorry," he hissed in pain.

He couldn't believe Magneto had just hit him. Then, as if nothing at all had happened, the man knelt down on the floor and raised him up. With his own sleeve, he mopped away Pyro's blood.

Only then did Pyro know that he had deserved the blow. He deserved more. Eden…He hung his head. "I didn't want any of this to happen."

Magneto held both of his shoulders, the cuff of his shirt burgundy-brown with Pyro's blood. "I know…I know you didn't." He guided Pyro to a chair and sat him down. He gave him a glass of water.

"You'll understand Pyro, that with Mystique captured and now Eden gone as well…" He paused and swallowed hard. "I am a bit preoccupied."

"Yeah, I understand," he said. "I really am sorry."

Magneto sat across from him and looking at him very seriously said, "You and I are all that is left of my Brotherhood."

The words hung in the air, heavy and weighted with pain. Pyro felt hopeless, despairing, angry, hateful. "I think, I think Eden will be better off with the X-Men for now though, if she's alive. We couldn't have helped her."

"You're probably right. It makes it difficult though. If she is with them, we won't have any way of knowing."

Pyro nodded.

"Do not despair," Magneto said suddenly. "The just triumph."

Words. The guy always had big words. At the moment, they meant nothing to him.

"John," Magneto began quietly, "you are full of rage. You are full of vengeance. You thirst for righteousness and glory." He paused. "You and I are the same."

Pyro stopped. He looked in the gray, shadowy eyes of the man he followed and he suddenly remembered why he followed him. "Does it mean anything?"

"Oh, yes," Magneto said. "It means everything. Our rage, our hatred, our desires will be the means by which our cause is taken into the world. The means by which we will bring others to our side and destroy those who oppose us."

Pyro nodded, feeling empowered for the first time in a long time. "What do you want me to do?"

Magneto looked directly into his eyes, a dark gaze that Pyro was not afraid to meet. "Don't abandon me," he said.

The request struck him like a knife in the heart. The thought of leaving Magneto had not occurred to him, even now as his bloodied lip swelled. "Never," he swore, "Never."

Xavier watched the girl closely. Her eyes were wide open. She never blinked. But she was not awake. Unconscious and dreaming violently. Her hands twitched every now and then, but her eyes never moved.

He raised his hands to her temples to venture a peek inside. He closed his eyes. Fire! Smoke! Screaming! She did not scream. But others did. She pointed them to an exit. They ran. She helped someone stand and they ran from her in fear of the flames. The second explosion! Its concussion knocked her to the floor and she succumbed to the blackness. Back further…who are you…where have you come from?

He felt a warm wetness envelop his right arm. It squeezed tight and pushed his hand away. He opened his eyes in time to see her black, forked tongue whip back into her mouth. "You don't want to go any further," she whispered hoarsely.

He wheeled around to her side. Her eyes widened. "Xavier."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"We'll keep it that way, if you don't mind."

He shrugged. "If you like."

"Where am I?"

"Tell me your name and I'll tell you where you are."

The girl smiled and as she did she revealed white fangs and sharp white teeth. "I don't want to play this game. Just point me to the exit."

"You received very serious burns and extensive damage to your lungs from smoke inhalation. You're better off here."

She lay back and sighed and the sigh turned into a cough. The coughing brought her to a sitting position. She appeared to be suffering. "So it would seem," she agreed breathlessly when the cough let up.

"What were you doing in Montreal?" Xavier asked.

"Looking for something," the girl replied.

"Did you find it?"

She shook her head. "No."

Her mind was blank and she was keeping it that way on purpose. She was thinking of anything other than what he wanted to know. He could not even discern her name.

"You can call me whatever you want. I'll answer to it," she said.

"Are you telepathic?"

She shook her head. "You're projecting. I can feel it." She tapped her temple. "I know what to listen for."

He folded his fingers together. "Well, seeing that you possess certain snake-like abilities, shall we call you Cobra, for now? Until you feel you can tell me your real name?"

"That's just fine. Not very original, but it'll do." Not a shred of malice in that comment, rather, she seemed more disappointed in his choice than irritated—as if she had expected more from him.

"Where did you learn to listen to telepathic waves?"

"That would be telling too much, Charles," she replied. "Is it alright if I call you Charles?"

"Most of the people here call me Professor Xavier."

"You're not my Professor."

He nodded in agreement. "True. Very well, you may call me Charles. Though, I would like to know how you know my name."

"Are we…at your school? Is this the Mansion? We're in New York."

He did not answer her. Her perceptions, her knowledge, were eerie and unsettling. He detected no malicious intentions, rather a kind of hope. What kind of hope, though, was unclear. That was the unsettling part.

Xavier turned as Storm entered. A noticeable change occurred in the room. A hot surge of anger and pain and hatred. It disappeared as soon as the girl realized he had detected it. "Our guest is awake," Storm smiled.

"Yes. Full of questions, but providing no answers."

Storm approached her and extended her hand. "I'm Ororo Monroe. Nice to meet you."

The girl smiled and took her hand. "Cobra," she said, looking to the Professor.

Xavier did not break eye contact. "Not her real name, of course."

Storm looked at Xavier, puzzled. Come outside for a moment, Storm.

The door slid closed behind them as they entered the hallway. "What's going on?"

"She won't let me in. I could force her, but…"

"You don't want to," Storm nodded. "I don't blame you. She's been through a hell of a lot. Who do you think she is?"

"I really don't know. She knows my name. She knows about this place. I haven't told her anything."

"Is she telepathic?"

"No," Xavier said. "At least," he frowned, "I don't think so."

"Personally," Logan said, entering the hallway, "I think she's a spy."

"There's no way you could know that, Logan," said Xavier.

"I saw Pyro, she's probably working with him."

Storm shook her head. "Her physical condition is naturally weak. Why would Magneto enlist someone who needs more help that she can give?"

Logan shrugged. "So we would take her in, feel sorry for her, let her infiltrate the school and bring back information."

Xavier ran his fingers along the sides of his nose. "I don't know."

"I would agree with Logan," Storm said, "except that I saw Pyro too. He left her there. He didn't seem to have any affiliation to her at all."

"It's a set up."

"Enough of this," Xavier said, "don't you two have a Danger Room session to get to?"

Logan and Storm nodded. "I can cancel the class, if you want help with her," Storm suggested.

"I can teach the class on my own," Logan offered.

Xavier smirked. "I don't think so. Though, I am grateful to you for filling in for Scott. Go on. She isn't going anywhere. She knows were saving her life, that much is clear."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing a Danger Room session on my own," Logan was saying as they left the hallway and entered another. Storm's laughter echoed down the hallway, cut off by a closing door.

The door in front of him opened and the girl was there. "Are you done talking about me?" she asked.

"Yes," Xavier answered. "For now. You should get more rest. Let the medicines heal you."

She smiled sadly. "Medicines only go so far," she said. She peered closely at him. "You're exactly what I thought you would be. Exactly how I thought you'd look."

"Who are you?"

"Cobra," she answered, and walked back to the bed.