Mystique felt wrong sleeping in the mansion again. Ever since Lorna and Alex had gone missing the house had been full of activity. CIA bases were marked on maps and their outgoing and ingoing loads were monitored by the Brotherhood and the X-men. They were narrowing it down to the top three most likely. After that they were going to do a flyby.
For the first time in ages she had been sent up to rest. She rolled into the guest bed she'd been given. Charles had offered her her old room but she'd declined. The hurt in his eyes had made her want to take it back, but she knew she couldn't. A level of separation had to be maintained. So instead she was staying as a guest in a house that she had spent most of her life in.
Sighing she closed her eyes. Erik was beside himself, even if he wasn't outwardly showing it. She knew what the tic in his eyebrow meant, the increase in gestures. Sometimes he looked like he was going to have a complete breakdown. No matter what anyone said it was clear that he cared for Lorna.
She relaxed and let her form go to the way it was supposed to be. Her baby bump was just barely starting to show. Absently Mystique ran her hand over it. would Charles show the same concern for the child growing there? She believed he would. Moira had mentioned that there was only a slim chance for them to have mroe children. Yes; he'd take good care of them.
Suddenly she heard a 'bamf' noise next to her. She started as she felt a cold hand go over hers and make the same motions on her stomach as she had.
"So," Azazel said, "I am wondering when you shall be telling Magneto you will not be with him."
"Damn you," she snapped, sitting up, "I can't rest for five minutes without you showing up. People need to sleep!"
"You can sleep later," he said dismissively, "Our son grows."
"My child."
He sighed.
"So we are starting this nonsense again?" he asked.
"Listen," said Mystique, "You've been more than generous in this whole situation. But I've been thinking; we don't belong raising a child."
"We do. Otherwise you would not be pregnant," he said.
"No, you don't understand. We're not the type of people who have kids," Mystique said, "So don't try and pretend we are. I wouldn't be a good mother and you'd be a terrible father."
Azazel's eyes became hard.
"I think you are assuming too much."
"I'm not," she insisted, "your plan won't work. I'm not leaving Erik and I'm definitely not announcing who the father is."
"Really," he said.
"Really."
He nodded and turned away. Mystique watched him warily. When he turned she expected the attack, but not the ferocity. His arms pinned her down. Azazel pressed his weight so he trapped her legs. His tail whipped around so that it covered her mouth. All she could do was glare at him, and glare at him she did.
"Now Raisa," he hissed, "What will you do then? I have been more than generous. But it obviously does not make you more so. So come now Raisa, what do you plan on doing with your child? Share now."
With a sharp movement he removed his tail from her mouth. She coughed.
"I should scream," said Mystique.
"But you won't, because if you do I will tell him everything," Azazel snarled, "So what is it? Skazheete pozhluista?"
"I'll keep hiding my pregnancy," she replied coldly, "Then I'll sneak off to give birth. When I leave the hospital I'll take my child and entrust him to Charles."
Azazel's eyebrows shot up and then narrowed.
"Your starshy brat already has a son Raisa," he snapped, "Like Magneto has a daughter. They don't need any more children."
"Well I don't need this one. And if you think about it you don't either."
His grip tightened.
"He won't want him," Azazel said, "Might as well put him in an orphanage."
"No. Charles loves children. And he'll love him because he's mine," she spat.
It was true. She felt bad for assuming that Charles would just do what she wanted him to unconditionally. However, he was her best chance. Every now and then she might be able to sneak in and see how her child was doing. They could grow up side by side with David, just like she and Charles had done.
The thought made her want to cry, but there were more important things going on.
"So happy ending," said Azazel sarcastically, "Yzumitelno!"
"Yes, it is," she said, "We go back to our places in the Brotherhood."
"And you go back to him."
"Stop using that tone," snapped Mystique, "And yes, I do. I can see that what I did with you was what I called it the next morning; a mistake. This time I mean it."
His eyes narrowed and then relaxed. Azazel threw his head back and laughed. She looked at him warily.
"If that is the case," he said, "Then it is time for goodbye."
Azazel leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
"Dasvidania my Raisa," said Azazel, "U meya adin rebyonak. Patome, pomish."
"I don't understand Russian," said Mystique.
"I know," he said.
With a puff of black smoke he was gone.
After they had finished with the machine on the first day they had let him down. They'd wheeled in a cot which he had collapsed into. Martinique had strapped him down on it. She needn't have bothered; he was too weak to fight as she administered antiseptic to his wounds. He thought it was antiseptic anyway. She kept talking about how she didn't want to give him an infection.
Although he felt weak he had strength enough to eat the food a guard put it into his room. He wanted to attack him but he couldn't seem to summon any energy to do so. The machine had taken too much from him. They knew it; it was why they had undone the straps before leaving.
Angrily he looked down at the food. The food was a colorless slop; the least appetizing thing he'd ever seen. In order to escape he needed more strength then he currently possessed though. The taste made his mouth fuzzy and his head confused. In disgust he realized it was probably drugged.
He used up the rest of his strength climbing close to the air vent. Alex tugged on the bars and held himself up. If nothing else then he'd be able to see if Lorna was alright. Her room was too dark to see anything though. He coughed.
"Polaris?"
When she spoke her voice was weak.
"Alex?"
"Yeah. They know my name, but I don't think they know yours. So use codenames when possible. Don't know if they can hear or not," he said, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," she replied, "But, this guy comes in with a syringe every now and then. And there was something in the food…"
"I know," Alex said, "We can't eat that stuff anymore."
On the other side he heard her push herself up.
"I heard you screaming," she said.
"Same here," he said, "What did they do to you?"
"Something with electricity," said Lorna vaguely, "I don't know. They unhooked me a little bit ago. I think I was next door at some part; but the table was metal and I ripped it apart. They had more darts though."
"There's my girl," laughed Alex.
She laughed too, the sound half a sob.
"You?" she asked.
"They want the stuff I can blast," said Alex, struggling to mask his anger over thier situation, "They're planning on sucking me dry and then using it for something or another. The woman whose doing it is some sort of mutant. Can do illusions. Real weird."
"Psychos."
"That's what I said," he laughed.
She started laughing again, only it devolved quickly into a bout of coughing. Anger built up in his chest, directed at both his captors and himself. They had wanted him, not Lorna. If he'd stayed inside like the Professor had told him to then this wouldn't have happened. Struggling to keep himself upright he said;
"I'm so sorry. This is my fault. But I'm gonna get us out of here."
"It's not your fault," said Lorna, "Remember that, okay?"
He shook his head and felt his grip on the bars start to slip.
"It's gonna be okay," he said, "We're going to make it through this. I promise that. I have to go now. I'm not exactly well-situated."
"I get it," she said.
Alex slid down the floor. He collapsed into his cot, only to be woken a few hours later as two men started to drag him towards the machine. Remembering the pain from the day before he resisted. Martinique sighed and pressed the button. Lorna's screams from the other room brought his struggles to an abrupt end.
Martinique pressed the button and her screams stopped.
"Good," she said, "Now let the nice men help you in."
The machine hurt just as much the second time around. However, through all of his screams he kept himself focused. He held back a little bit. It wasn't much, Martinique would have noticed otherwise. It wasn't enough to get a good attack going either. Alex saw it as a start.
Yes; a start to his escape. He was going to make sure that Martinique didn't get her hands on Scott, that the machine was destroyed. Because he wasn't going to die there, and he wasn't going to let Lorna do so either. Alex Summers had been a liar in the past, but that had been the past. He was a changed man; and that man always kept his promises.