Chapter 6

Mirage sped back to the gang's secret lair, that rather squalid apartment in a semi-derelict part of town. Somewhere above him, lost in Storm's convenient fog, was the jet. Jean was navigating now, keeping a psychic link to Mirage on the ground, guiding Cyclops through the whiteout, skimming the taller buildings. Chaz slowed to a halt as he reached the block of flats. Scarlet was stood out in front, her cheap velour cape swirling about her in a stiff breeze. Her face twisted as she recognized him. It was not anger, but more like fear.

"You shouldn't have come back," she spat at him. "Why aren't you curled up in front of a cosy fire in New York? With your precious X Men?"

He ignored this. "Where are the guys? And Mystique?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she sneered.

"You mean, you don't know."

"I told them to wait until we at least found Quicksilver but they wouldn't listen to me!" she wailed. "Mystique said he was too close to you for his own good and now for all I know they'll turn on him- maybe on us both! This is all your fault!"

"Oh wake up, Scarlet!" he said bluntly. "You're in with a bunch of thieves and terrorists. You need to get out before it's too late."

And ominously, as can occasionally happen when a prophetic statement is made on a foggy night, there was a teeth-shaking rumble from the earth, like the empty stomach of an unthinkably huge giant. Scarlet looked at him with liquid eyes.

"Avalanche," she breathed. "Pietro!" and then she was off into the thick fog and the night.

"Don't even think about it," came a speaker from the fog above him. "We need to regroup, strategize, and coordinate."

That's what the team needs to do, Mirage thought, But Scarlet needs help now. He knew he would get in trouble; the real question was how much. He ran into Scarlet's wake, the pounding in his ears overwhelming the throbbing behind his eyes.

From the air, and through Storm's thick fog, Cyclops had to trust his instruments and Jean's stream of consciousness monologue to track Mirage. Every so often he'd have to climb suddenly to avoid bumping into an aerial tower.

"Left, he's turning here, and now he's running, straight on…he doesn't know where to go… he can't see her anymore…" small beads of perspiration glistened on her smooth brow. She wasn't a natural psychic, and developing that skill alongside her telepathy was perhaps the most arduous study going on at the school (as long as the Professor's therapy sessions to repress Rogue's extra memories and revive Logan's lost ones counted as therapy rather than study). She bit her lip in concentration; her knuckles were white against the arm of her chair. Off in the distant night the sounds of the earth tearing were suddenly joined by the shocking noise of demolition. It sounded as if someone had knocked down a factory.

"You think Mirage could warn somebody if he gonna be handlin' animals!" Gambit grumbled as Rogue cooed over the puppy. Fur, like hair, prevented the skin to skin contact that was Rogue's bane, and cuddling animals was one of her only escapes.

"He's gorgeous!" she squealed as Scruff tried to lick her.

"So Mystique said that this is a cell of the Brotherhood?" Logan pressed Pete for details as he stood awkwardly in the jet, still holding Mirage's bag.

"Yeah, she said the Leader was Magneto when Mirage asked." Pete was amazed at the facilities he saw all around him. "Man, Mirage wasn't kidding… the Professor must be loaded!"

"We are blessed to have such resources," Storm agreed. "And rest assured, Quicksilver, there is a place for you, and your sister, with us. The professor is always happy to welcome a new mind to his school."

Suddenly the air turned blue with curses as the Blackbird was rocked by an explosion almost directly beneath them. Everyone in the back tumbled, trying to keep their feet. Scruff yelped in surprise, but Rogue held him safe.

"That's a gas line catchin' fire," Rogue said grimly. "You hear it once, you don't forget it!"

"It's Avalanche and Blob," Pete said wretchedly. "They specialise in tearing places apart! And they've tried to take out the power station before."

"You can't hover here; the thermals will tip us over!" Jean said urgently as Cyclops grappled with the controls.

"Mirage is directly below us!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Let me take over the Blackbird, Cyclops," Storm urged him, "and maintain the mist cover for you from a higher vantage point. You lead the team in on foot and recover Mirage. We'll stay in touch through our communicators."

Cyclops clearly didn't like the idea, but he nodded abruptly and handed the controls over to Storm.

"Ororo, stay close. We have no idea what we're getting into down here. Pete, you're staying here with Storm."

"But my sister-" he began

"We train as a team, and throwing you in the mix makes it that much more likely someone ends up killed. Stay here with Storm and we'll bring Scarlet to you. Let's move, X Men."

And before Pete could argue any further, the team was jumping out through the bay doors of the Blackbird, Rogue carrying Wolverine and Gambit in either hand, Jean wrapped around Cyclops as her telekinesis slowed their descent.

"Remember to count on bad luck!" he shouted after them.

"Always do," came Wolverine's reply out of the darkness.

Mirage wished yet again that he had some sort of practical power, maybe super senses like Logan so he could track the Scarlet Witch, or speed to catch up with her, or some way of protecting them from whatever dangers Avalanche and Blob were going to throw at them. He kept seeing the fear in her eyes and feeling an over-riding need to protect her. He wasn't sure if it was in a big brother way, or if it had other possibilities, but he knew he couldn't let her go. He was running through a fog so thick he had to follow the lines on the road to make sure he didn't crash into a building. He tried to focus on the things he was sure of- Scruff and Jubilee and everyone else he cared about was safe, and he had a place waiting for him in New York, and the Professor would find something for him to do when he graduated and everything, somehow, would be okay. Maybe Jubilee would go with him to Prom… and all the while, he rushed into danger for the sake of a scrawny girl he barely knew.

A huge explosion rocked the sidewalk and illuminated the near distance like a glowing orange rose; the reek of gas a flame and smoke poured into the night.

"Scarlet!" he shouted. "Scarlet, come on! We're going to get killed hanging around here!"

"Nothing can kill me," came Scarlet's voice. "I am the Scarlet Witch!" and then a brick wall bean to tumble around him. He swore and danced out of the way of falling debris. "Now do you see the power of those you've defied?"

That didn't seem like something Scarlet would say, and Mirage remembered Mystique was a shape shifter. He needed to know…

"Come on, Scarlet, I have Scruff here, he's going to get hurt!" But there was only echoing laughter as another wall came crashing down and the earth shook underfoot. That clinched it for him; Scarlet loved Scruff. And if Scarlet wanted him crushed, her power would have made sure of it, but as the person speaking to him was Mystique in Scarlet's form, she had no more advantage than he had. They could both make others see what they wanted- and on that scale, Mirage had the advantage. He summoned 'Cyclops', 'Gambit', and 'Wolverine' out of the mist.

"Come on Scarlet, we've got Pete and we're all going to New York. You're coming too."

"You'll have to go through the others, first!" the voice shrieked. And then the quaking underfoot ceased, and everything was still.

"Oh, crap…" he breathed. And with that a fissure opened under his feet, and the street began to rip itself apart beneath him. Mirage ran, and the crack followed him. His illusions vanished as his concentration broke. Walls collapsed towards him, but somehow he managed to avoid ever falling brick and beam. Wherever Scarlet was, she seemed to be on his side- or on Scruff's, anyway. Suddenly he stopped short- he had almost run right off of the traffic overpass bridge he didn't realise he was on. He couldn't go back, the fissure gaped behind him; and there was a drop before him that would cripple, if not kill. He had been corralled.

"We can't let you duck out," said the Blob, from outside Mirage's view. He looked and looked but all around him was mist. "You're either in, or out. You didn't want in. So I'm gonna take you out."

"Come on Duke, you don't want to hurt me," Mirage bluffed. "I've never done anything to you. I gave you cheat codes, remember?"

There was no answer. Off in the fog, there was a grinding noise. Metal on stone. "Duke, seriously. Not cool, man." The grinding continued. There, some kind of huge tanker was on its side, slowly grinding metal on asphalt with a skin-crawling noise that froze his bones. It was inching towards him, inexorable. The Blob was going to push him off the overpass. He would never walk again, if he lived.

"Mirage! It's Cyclops! Where are you?"

"Here! You've got to stop this tanker, I'm going to fall!"

Somewhere below, Cyclops swore. "I can't see you! I can't risk it, Mirage! I could kill you!"

In his panic, images of his life starting strobing through his brain, and his power caused them to flash around him in the fog. He was standing with Red Eagle on a wind-swept field; he was in the nursing home as his grandmother died of dementia, smelling of urine; his mother was throwing a kitchen knife at him; Jubilee was laughing as they sat on a hill at night, filling the sky with fireworks together. The heels of his boots hung over an abyss as the rest of him pressed desperately against the tanker. And then, that pressure behind his eyes, that headache that wouldn't shift, exploded.

Time stopped. Mirage's vision blazed white. His ears were deafened; no sound vibrations or any other touch from the world around him reached him. The tanker burst away from Mirage and forward into Duke as if it had been hit by a wrecking ball. Mirage felt held in stasis for a moment, and then released. He was disoriented, lost his balance, and toppled backwards off the bridge.

With a startled oath, Cyclops ran forward towards the falling body. He knew he wouldn't be able to break the fall- but suddenly Rogue was there; she was flying, which she hated to do. To save Mirage, she swooped to him faster than a falcon, seized him by the waist, and lowered him gently to the ground where Cyclops began a furious check for injuries.

Above, the Blob was gasping and groaning: the tanker had knocked him off his feet, and pinned the lower half of his body. He was trying to right it, and making some headway. Further up the shrouded street, Mystique, stunned and knocked back to her true form, was also attempting to rise. High above, lost in the heavy cloud, Storm struggled to control the Blackbird as suddenly, all the electronics went dead. The jet dropped and jerked in the air; various systems failed and flashed back into life, and the otherwise tranquil Storm swore and began to sweat as she fought the jet and gravity both.

"What was dat?" Gambit demanded. He was running towards the site of the explosion. Wolverine had disappeared into the mist.

"Some kind of explosion," Cyclops replied, "and it hit Mirage. Rogue, get him to the Blackbird. The rest of us are going to put a stop to this."

Mirage stirred feebly. "You gotta find Scarlet," he murmured, "but watch out for Mystique… she changes…"

At the mention of the name Mystique, Rogue turned pale. "She's a shape-shifter," she said hollowly. "Ah- Ah'll stay with Mirage in the jet. Keep an eye on him. He might need first aid or somethin'."

"Thanks Rogue," Cyclops said, distracted. "Jean, can you find them?"

Up in the Blackbird, Mirage quickly recovered his senses. He didn't seem to be at all injured. He shook off Quicksilver's concerned ministrations and peered through the fog, trying to see what was happening on the ground.

The muffled explosions were joined by the red blaze of Cyclops's optic blasts, and the familiar snikt of adamantium. Gambit's drawl, have southern, half French, came through in droll remarks met with curt replies from Jean- she never had time for jokes when there was business at hand. Rogue sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, incommunicative. Pete was pacing up and down the jet, glancing to Mirage if he moved or made a sound, torn between his concern for his sister and his friend.

"What happened to the Blackbird?" Mirage moaned as he tried to get up. He wasn't hurt, he was surprised to notice. Disoriented, yes, and a bit numb in the extremities but his headache was gone and Rogue had caught him gently.

"It seems like the effect of an Electro-magnetic pulse," Storm replied, "but I can't imagine where it came from. Even the destruction of local power stations wouldn't cause the energy to release in that manner." Absently she raked her hair away from her eyes. "I fear there may be a mutant behind this, and if so he is an unknown element."

Jean's voice suddenly filled the cabin. Storm, send down the winch. We've got the girl and we're coming up. As soon as the bay doors opened, a prostrate form of the Scarlett Witch, surrounded in the blue nimbus of Jean's telekinesis, rose into the cabin and settled gently next to Mirage. As the winch descended, Jean joined them, floating softly in the grasp of her own power. Next she lifted Cyclops, as Wolverine and Gambit gripped the cable and eventually settled inside the cabin. The bay doors shut and Storm lifted the Blackbird away from Cleveland and pointed the nose northeast to New York and home.

Quicksilver was at his sister's side in literally an instant. He checked her for injuries and then looked accusingly at Cyclops. Cyclops, the hero he had formed from Mirage's description, had turned up with his sister unconscious.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"That shape shifter… had a good time playing us against one another in the fog," Cyclops said, ruefully. "Gambit and I nearly killed each other."

"If it weren't for Logan's nose, I think she might have had us," Jean added, throwing a glowing smile to Wolverine, who turned away from her.

"Wolverine found her," Cyclops continued, "and got her out. We covered him until we could get back. That Avalanche can pack a wallop."

"He's a damn bully," Quicksilver said darkly. "But what happened to Scarlet?"

"She was like that when I found her," Wolverine rasped. "The shape shifter's smell is all over her."

Quicksilver ground his teeth. "We trusted her," he growled. Mirage put an arm around Pete's shoulders.

"Scarlet is safe now. You both are. Beast is a great doctor, and he knows more about mutant physiology than anyone practicing medicine in the whole world. Whatever Mystique did, Dr. McCoy will fix it."

"I'll never forgive them," Pete insisted, as tears threatened his eyes. He threw off Mirage's arm and drew his knees to his chest, settling in to sit guard for his sister.

"Let's go home, please?" Mirage asked the cabin in general. Scruff licked at him, wanting to play, and Mirage handed him to a subdued Rogue, who instantly cuddled him close.

"What's different about you, Mirage?" Jean asked him suddenly. She knelt down by him and tested his face with her hand, as if checking for fever. "You're different. Not on the outside but… something else…" she furrowed her brow.

"Have a rummage, I don't mind," Mirage invited her. There was nothing too private in his head, except for the slightly confused attractions he had for both Jubilee and Scarlet, and he knew Jean wouldn't pry.

"If my psychic ability was enough to figure it out, I'd know by now," she mused. "Would you mind the Professor taking a look? He's so much better than me."

"Whatever you think is right," Mirage replied. He was suddenly very tired. "I'm going to try to catch some shut eye. Wake me up before we land?"

"Let me help you with that," Jean murmured, and suddenly Mirage's exhaustion was comfortably complete; Jean caught his head as he fell back into restful oblivion.