Author's Note: I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to update this fic. Life got in the way, my brain wandered, and I had lost all my notes, which had to be reconstructed from scratch. But anyway, here it is. Part One of the Two-part Finale, included in its entirety upon both sides of my X-Men/Brotherhood coin. I hope you enjoy.
Sinister Secrets
"LAND!" Todd Tolensky leapt from his orb to hug the nearest tree. "Oh, God, if I never travel like that again, yo, it'll be too soon!" Pressing his face against the rough bark, he kept glancing behind him, to make sure that the rest of the Brotherhood were still there. The woods were eerie, dark and scary. He detached himself from the tree as soon as he felt his legs would support him.
The rest of the Brotherhood seemed pretty steady on their feet. Creed hadn't even paused when he exited. He was already scenting the air, allowing, only for brief seconds, his eyes to close. Todd hopped over to the others, feeling better once he was hidden behind Freddy's bulk. The silence seemed thicker than cottage cheese, until Todd leaned slightly over to Wanda.
"Think I can ride wit'chu home?" he asked as innocently as he could muster.
She simply leveled her dark eyes in his direction, and he flinched, expecting the worse. With a casual flick of her hand, Wanda caused a thick tree branch to break off from its trunk, and crash violently to the ground within feet of Todd's flamingo-like stance. He swallowed, as he cracked one eye slowly open. He didn't even get a chance to 'cuddlebumps' her, before Creed growled low and soft in his throat.
Everyone stopped, and turned slightly, to watch him. Creed moved forward a few more steps, flaring his nostrils as he scented the air again. "Quicksilver." The blur of silver stopped abruptly beside the outstretched hand. "The X-punks are here. Find them. I want to know what they're doing."
As Quicksilver disappeared in a whorl of leaves, Creed began to move off into the woods, carefully choosing a path through the trees. The Brotherhood kids all glanced at one another, before Lance motioned them onward. They really didn't have a choice, after all. After a few moments of following wordlessly, Todd cleared his throat.
"Uh, so, Mister Sabretooth?" At the question in the boy's voice, Creed paused, grunting as he peered back over his shoulder at the scrawny kid. "So like, how do we find Kylie? We don't even know where to look."
"She'll find us," Sabretooth grunted. At least, that's what he hoped. He kept calling her name silently, hoping that maybe a stray bit of telepathy would connect them. Guilt fueled his limbs. He had promised to keep her alive. He had promised to keep her safe. And he had let her down. Creed had hardly traversed six paces, when Quicksilver was back, leaning on a tree. He jabbed a finger over his shoulder, indicating shallower out of the woods.
"The Jet's that way, with a car, and a whole lotta commotion."
Creed merely nodded, and turned in the indicated direction. The action brought around a chorus of dismay from the kids tagging behind him, but with his usual stoic stubbornness, the man known as Sabretooth just kept walking.
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"What do you mean she was right there, Hank? Where is she now?" A vein pulsed at Logan's temple as he fought to control the urge to rip Beast's blue-furred throat out. Logan's hand pointed accusingly at the empty chair to his left, where moments before, his feral rescue had been curled up.
Admirably, Hank didn't cower under the brunt of Logan's barely restrained fury. He was slight nervous however, one couldn't help it when one thought of the sensation of those slick adamantium blades cutting across jugulars. Hank shook the imagery off, and gestured to the screens. "I turned away for only a minute, to respond to the Professor and Jean. When I looked back, I presumed she had gone searching for you."
Logan started guiltily at that. He had after all been the one to venture out first, taking a perimeter sweep. But then, he had never been out of sight of the Blackbird, so where had she gone? Turning away from Hank with a half-hearted snarl, Logan sniffed around the cargo ramp for a few moments. Carnal had gone down the ramp, he discovered, her musky scent still fresh on the metal. But within a few feet of the ramps base, the scent simply, and completely vanished. Logan backtracked suddenly, nearly tripping over Hank. A breeze rustled the leaves around them, as Scott carefully parked the sedan beneath the Blackbird's starboard wing.
Logan was at the professor's door even before Jean could get the wheelchair out of the trunk. "She's gone. The scent just vanishes. Teleporter, most likely. Chuck, we gotta move."
Xavier held his hand up. "We must wait for Ororo."
"No!" Logan cut off any other words that Xavier may have had to calm the raging mutant. But even as he took a step backwards, to allow Xavier to move into his wheelchair, Logan became aware of something else entirely. Of six shapes moving out of the forest, toward the jet and sedan. Logan spun, unsheathing his claws, and expecting the worse.
What he got, was far more unpleasant than what he wanted.
"Sabretooth," the snarl was unleashed through clenched teeth. Wolverine set himself to attack, but drew up short as the other figures resolved themselves. The Brotherhood kids, all moving with their hands in plain view, dogging Sabretooth's steps with quiet confusion.
"I'm not here to fight you, pipsqueak," Creed began without preamble. "I'm here for the Prophet, and you're here for answers to your little love-puppy's past. So lets just cooperate and get this over with."
"Why Sabretooth, I've never heard you this reasonable," Xavier quipped softly, and he motioned for Scott to push him forward. Wisely, Scott positioned the Professor between the two mortal adversaries, while Logan bristled at the blonde's condescending tone.
"Look," Avalanche stepped forward as well, moving up to stand beside Sabretooth in a bold bid for the dominance of the moment. "We just want to find Kylie, to bring her home." Creed's eyes shifted to glance once at the boy, but returned after a moment to focus on Logan.
"This may work out for our benefit," Xavier mused softly. "Can you and Wolverine put aside your differences long enough to seek out our missing members?" The question was pointed at Sabretooth, even though Xavier already knew the answer. Behind him, Logan shifted uncomfortably, glowering. "You two have the best chance of getting inside the buildings unseen. While Cyclops and the rest, cause a distraction with Tradys, and attempt to… perhaps pressure some information out of him?"
There was a gleam in his eye that Scott knew well. Cyclops nodded, and glanced at the Brotherhood boys. He'd attempted to play leader with them once before, and it hadn't worked out well. This time, he was just supposed to keep them busy. Busy destroying things apparently.
Xavier was the only one who was aware of Storm's quiet approach from the rear. Kitty and Kurt merged with the group the seeming ease, even though Kitty couldn't help but glare in Lance's direction. Ororo lay her hand gently on Hank's shoulder as she moved forward to stand between he and Logan.
"There is a building to the north, older than the rest. It sounded as though there were screams coming from within." Even with Ororo's natural gentleness, the news still hit both feral's hard, worst case scenarios drifting through their minds. Finally, they begrudgingly agreed to assist one another.
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So it came about that Xavier remained behind at the Blackbird, with Beast, monitoring the progress of all individuals. The Scarlet Witch, Toad, and Quicksilver stalked after Cyclops and Jean, while the rest moved out to check on various other buildings. There was no room for subtlety in Cyclops' mind any longer; he burst into the main lobby of the mental institute without a care. Civilians scattered, most breaking for the front door, while a few others ducked into side rooms. On his heels, Jean frowned in concentration, seeking Tradys' mental signature through the hospital as he scurried around.
"He's ended up in his office," she whispered softly, as Cyclops paused for a moment. Ahead of them, Wanda and Toad were gleefully taking care of the few security officers and orderlies that had showed up. Quicksilver was at their side occasionally, moving so quickly he seemed to disappear from one point, and reappear at another.
Cyclops herded them all with practiced ease, though he had to dodge a few hexes thrown in his direction. As they turned the corner into the hallway that Tradys' office was located at, everything seemed to fall dead silent. Their foot falls no longer made noise, nor did the creak and rustle of their clothing. Jean scowled, and mouthed a few words. Beneath his visor, Scott's brow furrowed. No sound had exited Jean's throat.
Glancing behind them, it seemed that Tolensky was taking this opportunity to mouth a serious string of explicatives in Quicksilver's general direction. Cyclops held up his hand to stopped the four others, as he tried to puzzle out the whys. He didn't have to puzzle for too long, as two figures stepped out of opposing rooms.
They both wore hospital gowns, pale blue knee-length things, with the name of the mental hospital embroidered over the heart. The girl was horribly scarred, her face was a mass of melted flesh, that had sealed one eye forever closed, her right arm was curled uselessly against her chest, and her right leg was held straight by a series of metal braces around her thigh and knee. The single eye that was visible rolled occasionally, unfocused and bloodshot.
The man, slightly older than his companion, was in much better condition. He bore tattoos along both arms, yet rivulets of fresh scarlet leaked out of his hair and traced marks down his face. His hair seemed to be the problem, as he possessed a proverbial crown of thorns with the long, needlelike structures buried deep within his scalp. His eyes were lucid, focused, and latched right upon Jean.
He motioned once, and it began. Thousands of vines shot up from the floor, and walls, wrapped in thick red leaves, and savage inch-long thorns. They sprouted from beneath the feet of the mutants without so much as a sound. Quicksilver bolted into action, spinning around in place while the vines bounced harmlessly off the pocket of air he was creating by his rapidity. The Witch lobbed successive hexes into the briars, and grew relieved as they forgot their targets and milled listlessly about. Toad put his acrobatics to good use as he dodged thrusting vines, by bouncing off the wall and even, at one point, clinging precariously to the ceiling.
Jean lifted herself and Scott above the fray in a telekinetic bubble. Scott was taking aim against the man, when the second assault slammed into their minds. The girl had focused, only for a single second, and every sound that had transpired since their movement into the hallway, came slamming into their skulls in the span of a single heartbeat. Everyone staggered in agony, clutching their heads, and raised their voices in unison, screaming their pain out. Jean swore she heard a giggle echo within her ringing ears.
Jean's temper flared as first Wanda, then Toad were grabbed by the puncturing vines. Toad yelped and whined, kicking feebly against the thorns that tore through his jeans, and threatened to strip the skin from his shins. Wanda threw hex after hex, rapidly feeling the strain, while the thorns couldn't get through the smart leather outfit she always wore on these occasions. Jean's red hair floated around her for a minute, as she focused her telepathy upon the two. With a single sharp, jab, the girl fell, telepathically subdued with the force of Jean's willpower. The sound returned to normal in the hallway, the reverberating echo slowly fading away.
Cyclops freed the two trapped Brotherhood mutants, with focused blasts of his power. Then he turned his attention to the male mutant ahead of them, one well aimed shot clipped the guy in the temple, and sent him spinning into oblivion beside the scarred girl. Pietro and Scott tossed the two unconscious ones back into their respective rooms, and Scott only paused long enough to weld the metal door shut with the heat from his visor. Grinning grimly, he shoved Tradys' office door wide open.
Tradys appeared to have been expecting them. He sat behind his desk, slumped forward while his forehead rested in his hands. Between his elbows, resting upon a sheaf of loose paper, lay a small revolver. It's chamber was cracked open, as though it had been abandoned halfway through the loading process. He looked up slowly as the door opened, his dark eyes tired and resigned.
"I knew you would be back," he said quietly, shoulders heaving in a silent added sigh. "People like you always find out the truth. I tried to keep her safe, I really did. I thought she would be safe with Vincent."
Cyclops choked back a sound, while Jean stepped forward. "Vincent? You mean Vincini? You gave your daughter to him?"
"He was supposed to protect her!" Tradys' large hands slapped hollowly upon the desk as he stood up. "To keep her away from Essex, so the man wouldn't hurt her anymore!"
"Essex? Ya mean the crazy freak what's been after Kylie?" Toad piped up from the back as he piqued. "So where's Kylie, yo? We find her, we blow his pop stand."
"The McManus girl?" Tradys eyes narrowed for a moment. "She's here too? Essex didn't mention her."
"Why did you lie to us earlier?" Cyclops demanded, unhappily.
"Essex was listening in then. I couldn't risk him knowing I was going to help my girl escape again." As if at some private joke, Tradys laughed softly. "My girl. She'll be twenty-eight in November… hardly a girl anymore." As he moved around his desk, the gathered mutants tensed up. "Please, let me help you. I know where they're keeping Alexia. And I think I know what Essex may be doing with Ms. McManus."
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They couldn't decide who would lead and who would follow. Neither man had spoken a word since they climbed through the half-open window. Their bickering was completely posture, and glances, and, boy, did the two of them have some nasty glares. It felt like the entire upper levels of the mansion-like building were empty. A thin coating of dust coated the floor, making signs of their passage extremely visible. Creed wanted to go down, while Logan insisted on checking every room on the top three floors. At each set of stairs, they exchanged venomous glares, and stared one another down.
Sometimes, Creed won, and they bypassed rooms, but other times, Logan got the better hand, and a very thorough search was conducted. Creed could feel the time crawling by like the sweat the crept down his face. As they were faced with the final door, the door that would presumably lead them down into the basement, Creed tilted his head to one side slightly. In less than a second, Logan had adopted the same pensive expression. They could both hear it. Screaming. A low, muffled sound coming from below.
Creed reached forward and wrapped his giant hand around the knob, turning it slowly. And then it was there, like a bullet lodged inside his brain that was fighting to work its way against his healing factor. His hand convulsed on the grip, muscles all the way up his arm spasming as he felt the intruder crawling inside his mind. In a moment, it resolved itself, however, into no intruder, but the very presence and sense of the young Prophet, filling his thoughts. And she was begging incoherently for help, it seemed. Rage pumped through his system, blinding him to Logan's quiet growl.
The door was fully in Creed's hands when he came to his senses, the metal crumpled and twisted by the force that he ripped it from its moorings. He stared at the metal shape as he fought to resolve the residual thoughts, the memory of Kylie's frantic cries. Finally, he managed to force himself to release the door, tossing it loudly to one side. Logan groaned at the clatter of metal against metal.
"I know where she is. Follow me," Creed snarled, and struck out down the hallway before Logan could even get a chance to respond. After a second's hesitation, Logan began to run in Creed's wake, wondering just how far they would get before resistance began. Oddly, nothing stepped out of the nearby doorways, or corridors. Sounds followed them, as they passed rooms obviously occupied by patients. Chains rattled, strange gutteral howls rolled after them. But Creed led his mortal enemy unerringly through the maze of corridors, until he pulled up short just before one particular room.
Creed sniffed, scenting the air and pacing momentarily back and forth like a caged animal. She was here, h e could smell her. He could practically taste her fear in the air. Logan's nose wrinkled slightly as he too, picked up the scent. There was a soft skinkt as Wolverine's claws popped out of their housing upon his forearms.
"There's a quieter way to open doors," he growled softly at the big blonde. The length of his claws inserted around the door jam and slide effortlessly around the three sides. Creed caught the door as it loosened in its moorings, and once more, set it to the side.
Gloom greeted their eyes, giving both ferals a pause before they stepped within. Once their eyes had adjusted to the gloom, they peered inside, Creed looking left, Logan peering right. Creed froze, and wished that he hadn't looked. Reaching back, he grabbed Logan's arm, to call his attention to the one-way mirror that dominated the left wall.
The sight through the mirror made Creed tremble with fury. His hands balled so tightly that his own claws dug into the soft flesh of his palm. Kylie was alone in the adjacent room, dirty and tattered, her clothes and arms still bearing scorch and burn marks from the explosion of her Jeep. She was standing directly in front of the mirror, her eyes wide, and unfocused. Her mouth constantly formed words that neither feral mutant could hear, but they were words that drove her hand.
She was writing on the walls. In fact, the mirror seemed to be the only surface that she had not filled yet. It was Logan's turn to grab Creed's arm, to prevent him from jumping to rash action, as it became apparent just what Kylie was using to write with. She paused, only long enough to bite the fingertips of her left hand, feverishly consumed by the need to write to finish whatever obscure thing she was scrawling in her own blood.
"It's a formula," Logan breathed quietly, as he watched the reverse of her writing. "A complex one." Logan nearly staggered as Creed wrenched his arm away.
"Don't care," he grunted, and put the full force of his weight behind a punch to the mirror. The material bowed beneath the blow, but did not break. Logan simply stared until Sabretooth resorted to using his claws, ripping and tearing at the substance until it began to spiderweb and crack. Upon the other side, Kylie carried on as though the wall had never moved, her entire body was twitching as she poured out her mind onto the canvas. Finally, Logan popped his claws once more, and levered Sabretooth aside. Excising a clean hole in the mirror with the adamantium, Logan stepped back to let the larger man through first.
What unfolded before him, froze the mutant in his tracks, as he could only stare in disbelief at the expression that his mortal enemy wore.
It bordered somewhere between fear, and uncertainty. Never had Sabretooth looked more vulnerable than the moments that he was looking at the girl called Prophet. Creed stretched his hands out, moving them to place one upon each of her shoulders, when she suddenly spun, and slapped him full on in the face.
"No!" she shouted. "Have to finish!" There was something horribly strained in her voice, something that raised the hairs on the back of Logan's neck. Creed snarled low in his throat, but he didn't attack the girl. His face obviously stung from the slap, and he struggled to control the temper that surged within him.
"Frail! Kylie!" He began to call her name, hoping she would respond to him. But the girl faced the mirror once more, savagely tearing at her fingertips with her teeth until fresh blood flowed. The feverish glaze in her eyes perhaps made Logan think she was drugged. Cautiously, the short mutant stepped through the hole in the mirror.
"We gotta get her to the Prof," he warned in a low tone. Creed didn't seem to react, but he began to approach the girl again.
"I promised I'd take care o'ya… so.. I'm sorry 'bout this," Sabretooth apologized before he struck, hitting her low in the back with the full force of his fist. Kylie crumpled like a little rag doll, her legs gone numb from the blow. In one swift move, Creed had her cradled in his arms, his nostrils flaring as he tried to resist the siren call of his bloodlust. Kylie's fingers wouldn't stop moving, tracing equations in the air, and upon Creed's arm. But she whimpered, and curled the fingers of her right hand, loosely around the lapel of his jacket.
Chuck, we got the girl. Logan directed his thought outward, to find the telepath.
Xavier responded with a mental smile. Good. Bring her to the Blackbird. Cyclops and Jean have found where they are keeping Carnal.
Post Note: Be sure to read the other half of this intermingled plot. Carnal's story or Kylie's story, depending on which you've read first!