Chapter Eighteen: Loyalty
All the times that I felt like this won't end
It’s for you
And I taste what I could never have
It was from you
All the times that I've cried
My intentions, full of pride
But I waste more time than anyone
~Staind
Frantic, Pyro bolted from his bedroom and rushed down the stairs as though all the demons of hell were snapping at his heels. He ignored startled shouts from his fellow Brotherhood members, whipping past them in a mad dash for the front door.
Where had she gone? Had her psychic probing told her of his insane notion? God, please, don’t let her be dead.
When Psylocke became his reason for breathing, the only bright spot in his life was a distant, mystifying puzzle. One morning he simply awoke beside her and realized that was how he wanted to wake every single day. Her tough as nails attitude and overwhelming tenderness bashed right through any barrier around his heart.
No matter how he tried to tell himself that it was “just sex” his heart quickly decided otherwise. For the first time in his young life, John cared more about a woman than he did himself. He’d deal with the X-Men or the Devil himself to keep her out of harm’s way.
There was no fucking way anyone was going to hurt her.
As he dashed out of the house and hopped into the battered Honda that served as his wheels, he realized that this was what loyalty felt like. He didn’t give a rat’s ass if Storm and Magneto tore the world apart around him, so long as Betsy was wrapped up safe somewhere. Mutants and humans could destroy the universe…he really didn’t give a shit.
That realization made him throw the Honda into reverse and punch the gas petal to the floor. He would catch up with her; ensure she was all right. After that, he didn’t know what the hell they were going to do.
With Rogue and Magneto joining forces against the X-Men, the old man had really lost it. He was constantly sequestered from his faithful followers, making plans that escalated rapidly from unlikely to just plain fucking crazy. Pyro didn’t want part of this any longer. Lensherr was so determined to kill half the planet just to have his way. Somewhere along the way, Magneto had become the very thing he professed to despise.
At least, John thought as he turned the Honda onto the deserted streets, Xavier had never been a hypocrite. He fought the same fight as Magneto without the endless death toll. What did the benevolent man get for his trouble? Death at the hands of a mutant too powerful for this world. A mutant he loved as a daughter.
John would never agree with the restrictions placed on mutations by Xavier’s students, but the line had to be drawn somewhere. Without even knowing it, John stepped over the proverbial line in the sand to join Storm’s X-Men once more. This time, it would be different. He wasn’t that arrogant kid looking for kicks any longer. He was a man now.
A man with something precious to lose.
Miles flew by under the spinning tires of his Honda. Hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white with tension. Betsy. Goddamn it, Betsy. What was she thinking? They couldn’t do anything rash! Caught between a rock and adamantium, they were flirting with disaster.
Even sleeping together, falling in love, that was dangerous. Magneto did not like for his followers to become attached to one another. They were to worship him alone, without room in their hearts for one another.
It was yet another difference between Lensherr and Xavier. Magneto wanted a congregation; Xavier needed family.
Well, John thought as the speedometer hit one hundred miles per hour, Betsy is my family now. He wasn’t going to lose her, come what may. Had he not just found Betsy, Pyro might have drifted into the night, leaving behind war and zealots. But she was worth fighting for, worth sticking it out.
Worth a million rounds with malicious Rogue.
The engine whined as he took the entrance for the highway. He had to find her. There was nothing left if he lost her.
Nothing.
~**~
Storm, Wolverine, and their children were poised around the kitchen like sentinels. Their guard was up, each piercing stare boring into the woman that sat proudly at the table. No one spoke, even after Colossus and Dazzler left the room. Ororo knew they were just outside, ready for their enemy to attack.
She wouldn’t, Ororo thought as she watched the violet-eyed mutant cautiously. This woman had an intelligence in her gaze that spoke volumes. She would not start open war while in an enemy camp. It wasn’t logical or tactically sound.
Logan was leaning against the wall behind her, their daughter mimicking his easy but ready stance as though it were second nature. Their volatile tempers were best kept behind the more levelheaded Bishop and Storm. For some reason, this observation struck Storm as enormously funny.
“I want out.”
Startled by the woman’s blunt, flat comment, Storm glanced to her son. Bishop’s face gave nothing away, but she could see something flash in his eyes. Whether or not this was a good thing would wait until later.
“Why?” Storm demanded quickly, gauging her young foe carefully.
Psylocke looked down at the table, her eyes guarded, posture rigid.
“Magneto has lost what little sanity he retained since Rogue joined him.”
“What?” Logan’s abrupt snarl made Ororo flick her hand at him, cautioning her beloved feral to calm down.
The woman tilted her head, still looking at the tabletop. “You didn’t know.”
“You’re lyin’,” Logan said again. “Marie wouldn’t…”
“You’re a man, Wolverine,” Psylocke interrupted. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
But the awful truth was dawning on Storm already. Rogue was so reclusive now, often leaving the mansion for several hours without explanation. Even Jubilee commented that after the trip to Germany, her dear friend was secretive and elusive.
Storm chalked it up to a broken heart, to bruised pride. As the unlikely foursome of Piotr, Alison, Kitty, and Bobby forged a fast, solid friendship, Marie drifted quickly and quietly away.
“Bobby.”
Psylocke met her eyes, a bemuse smile ghosting over her lips. “Hell hath no fury…”
“Shut up!” Logan snapped, pushing away from the wall. He ignored Shard’s entreating hand and Ororo’s warning gaze.
“She isn’t lying,” Bishop said at last.
The room fell deathly silent in one tortured breath. Father turned to son, two sets of dark eyes meeting in an unfathomable battle of wills. Bishop straightened his shoulders, unwilling to bend, unable to explain.
Shard stepped easily between them, placing one hand on each rapidly rising chest.
“There’s a reason, Daddy,” Lizzie said quietly. “Just hear us out.”
The betrayal was written so clearly over Logan’s gruff features that it tore at Ororo’s heart.
“Daddy?” said the woman now forgotten. “Oh, Magneto must have loved that.”
“Shut up,” the family said in unison.
Logan inhaled deeply, exhaling the breath as slowly as he could. The tension in her family made Ororo shake her head. It was really a shock that her children would live to see adulthood, seeing as how damn stubborn they all were.
“This happen in your timeline?”
Bishop nodded to his father’s curt question. “Much later, but yes.”
“Why?”
“The cure doesn’t work,” Psylocke offered. “Rogue has regained her mutation.”
“She can control it now,” Shard chimed in. “In our timeline, Rogue got fed up with hiding it, fought with Bobby…we don’t know all the details. But she went to Magneto and struck a deal with him.”
“Magneto encouraged her use of her powers. She would go into battle armed to the gills while some unlucky bastard was at home recovering.” Bishop’s voice was flat, but his mother could see the turmoil raging in his eyes.
Logan, for his part, was shaking with rage, with pain. She took his hand, squeezing it gently. To her great surprise, he relaxed a fraction, his gaze meeting hers.
The guilt reflecting in his dark eyes broke a little more of her heart. Ororo gave him a heartbroken look, sighing heavily as she turned, once more, to the enemy at their table.
“Why are you telling us this, Psylocke?”
The girl exhaled as all four mutants resumed their unwavering stare. Something in the way her hands trembled, how her eyes flickered, reminded Ororo of herself. Whatever had happened to this mutant vigilante shook her to the core, made her question everything she ever wanted.
Unable to resist, Ororo came around the table, taking the girl’s face gently in her hands. Oh, but she was so young. Vulnerability crumbled her face, her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty and fear. Magneto, though he might not know it, just lost his follower.
“He’s turning on me,” she whispered. The sound was broken, weak. “And on John. I can’t let this happen. He’s…God. Erik’s lost his mind.”
As though a damn burst, Psylocke began to talk rapidly to a captive audience.
“At first, it was wonderful. Here was a real leader, one that could take us out of the alleys and sewers. I nursed him back to health, brought him powerful and loyal followers. John and I were his most faithful, the ones he turned to for everything.”
“But then he changed. Once he learned of Bishop, he went ballistic. He ordered us to find out about him, to attack the mansion in hopes of capturing him again. Magneto thinks that knowledge of the future could help him destroy all humankind. I did not sign up for that. Mass genocide? There has to be a limit.”
“A limit?” Logan cut in. “Didn’t think you like limits.”
“I don’t,” Psylocke answered honestly, meeting his eyes without fear. “But what Magneto…God, the last time I looked into his mind, he was toying with the idea of killing Storm. That’s not unusual, but he wanted to ensure she was pregnant.”
Several audible intakes of breath did not stop her.
“His plan is simple. The cure isn’t permanent, but close enough. He’s had some kind of chemist working on the compound. They’ve succeeded in making it airborne.”
“My God,” Shard said breathlessly. “He could destroy the X-Men in one move.”
Psylocke stood; her slender form moved with the innate grace of a trained warrior. She paced back and forth, her hands rubbing together nervously.
“That’s the plan,” she answered in that clipped British accent. “Wipe out all powers, move in, destroy the X-Men. It’ll clear the path to a human-mutant war.”
“Humans wouldn’t stand a chance,” Bishop said thoughtfully. “So many mutants out there can regenerate or avoid conventional weapons.”
The young woman nodded as Ororo’s head began to spin. “I want to stop him. I need to stop him. This isn’t right, no matter what I believe about mutants.”
“That’s some story,” Wolverine interjected once more. “But that don’t explain why you came to us. You hate us.”
Her silent feet stopped their pacing and her back straightened considerably. Storm watched as the girl turned to face the feral mutant, her eyes afire with determination.
“He knows John and I aren’t wholly with him,” she explained softly. “He’s gearing up to have John killed. I won’t be far behind.”
“You love him. John.” Ororo observed, having caught the change in the telepath’s voice. She knew it well, she used it herself whenever speaking of Logan.
Of course, that made perfect sense. What else but love could turn this warrior to her enemies? She was protecting the man that stole her heart, no matter the consequences. She might have followed her deranged leader to the end had he not threatened the life of the one person she was willing to risk it all for.
In that moment, Storm understood Psylocke completely and she trusted that instinct.
“Yes,” the woman answered just as softly. “I can’t let anything happen to Pyro.”
Logan, for his part, turned to his children in confusion. “She talkin’ bout the same Pyro?”
Before anyone could move, Psylocke stiffened. Storm saw her eyes glaze over, knowing the gaze well from her years beside two of the most powerful minds on earth. The woman’s psyche was reaching out, searching for something that caught on her mental radar.
She was gone in a flash, moving from the kitchen at an alarming speed. Storm and her family were hot on her heels, following the suddenly desperate mutant as she sped through the kitchen, the hallway, and pulled up short in the foyer.
Standing hollow of the wide-open door, his hands aflame, was Pyro.
~**~
“Bets?”
She flew across the scant distance separating them, avoiding the fire in his hands so she could throw her arms around him. John held her close, snuffing out the flames. His heart was beating wildly, mind spinning as he searched for her thought to join his.
What are you doing? He asked in the silence of her mind.
Saving you. Saving us. She replied without speaking.
He knows, Bets. I think he knows.
He does. But I don’t care. If we move swiftly…
Do you know where it is?
Yes.
~**~
Hours later, when the mansion was winding down from a turbulent day, Logan stood on the balcony outside the bedroom he shared with his fiancée. Hands draped over the stone railing, he stared aimlessly into the darkness, as though sheer will would bring him the answers he so desired.
Guilt gnawed at his innards, hit gut roiling as everything he’d missed in the last weeks came crashing down around his ears.
Why? Why did he just assume Rogue was fine? So caught up in babies and ‘Ro was he that the first person to actually care whether he lived or died slipped through his fingers. Warning signals overlooked now stared back at him with the effect of neon in a well.
Marie never met his eyes anymore. She muttered excuses and vanished whenever he entered a room. She was distant, evasive, so completely alien that Logan wondered if he even knew her any longer. Could losing a boyfriend do that? Did something more sinister linger under the surface of someone he believed completely without guile?
Her betrayal of the X-Men was nothing on what Logan felt she inflicted upon him personally. She was encouraging someone to murder his unborn son. What kind of twisted mind could do such a thing?
Logan shifted against the railing, swallowing over the lump of emotion suddenly lodged in his throat. There was enough blame to go around, he mused. His personal life thrust Rogue away, leaving her to feel adrift and alone. This was his goddamn fault.
“It doesn’t do any good.”
Startled that someone had managed to sneak up on him, Logan cast an irritated glance to the slanted roofing above him.
Shard was perched on the edge of the roof, her short blonde hair dancing in the light summer breeze. Her eyes glowed in what moonlight shone through thick clouds, one brow cocked in a mirror expression of her future mother.
“You move quiet,” he replied shortly.
The girl grinned hugely. “You forgetting who my father is?”
Logan fought the smirk that overcame his trademark scowl as his would-be daughter flipped her long body from the roof. She landed with cat-like grace on the stone railing, completely confident that the twelve-inch space would provide adequate footing.
With one hand between bent knees for balance, Shard looked back at her father. Logan met her gaze, finding his daughter’s eyes filled with the same serene wisdom that her mother was famous for. Though she was more like him in temperament, Ororo had imprinted herself on the young woman before him.
There was something infinitely comforting in that realization.
The silence stretched between them, as though neither knew exactly what to say. She sought him out, Logan thought, as their eyes remained locked. It still seemed surreal that he was standing beside a daughter yet to be conceived. He was privy to an impossible gift. All through her life, whenever she appeared, he would carry the image of his strong, beautiful child as a woman. He would know, without a doubt, that he did the best he could do for her.
Perhaps that was the reason he was so set for Psylocke’s utterly stupid plan. The violet-eyed telepath told the X-Men that she lifted the location of Magneto’s cure stockpile from his mind. They were to leave in the morning, several X-Men strong, to destroy it before he could destroy them.
To give his children a chance at a better life, one free of tyranny and war, he would give his soul. His eyes darted over the burned-black M scarring her lovely face and rage licked at his belly. No one would touch his child that way, or anyone else’s. If he could change that fate, alter the future, then it was the least he could do.
Shard smiled faintly, turning on her perch to stare out at the grounds. Her lips twitched as her expression melted into something akin to longing.
“When I was a little girl,” she began quietly, her gaze traveling the expanse of the Great Lawn. “You told me stories of this place. Every night before I went to sleep, you would hold me close and tell me fairy-tales of the X-Men and their beautiful mansion.”
Reminded of Bishop’s admission to Logan of them playing baseball, he had to take a deep breath to keep his suddenly rampant emotions in check. His daughter continued, unhindered by her father’s silence.
“I never believed you,” Shard admitted softly. “I thought you’d made it up. Until right now, I didn’t dare believe that there was a world free of mortar shells and explosions.”
“Don’t blame you,” he said at last.
Her smile widened for a heartbeat, but she kept her eyes on the Lawn. Logan wondered if she was capturing it in her mind, her fairy-tale come to life.
“It’s so quiet.” Glowing eyes drifted shut and a look of contentment crossed her lovely face. “How can a place be so quiet? It’s unreal.”
“I thought so, too,” Logan offered, staring out at the Lawn with her. “First time I came here, I thought it was just a dream. Nothing could be so pure, so damn good by accident.”
Shard chuckled, the sound carried away on the wind that reminded him of her mother. “You know, Mama’s right. We are just alike.”
The pride in her voice made Logan’s shoulder’s straighten. “Sorry about that.”
“Nah,” Shard shrugged, opening her eyes. “I like me.”
They lapsed into silence again, this time much more comfortable. Logan wondered how many times he would talk to her like this. No pretenses, no bullshit, just a man with his kid, sharing the cool night breeze. Logan felt he could definitely get used to it.
“Daddy,” she said, the single word making his heart trip. “It’s not your fault. About Rogue.”
Scowling once more, he turned his eyes to the Lawn. “You know that, eh?”
Shard shrugged again, shifting on her precarious perch. “She’s confused and she’s hurt. What she never wanted to admit was the look she got in Lensherr’s mind when he tried to kill her appealed to her. She wants the kind of power he offered. Loyalty to the X-Men, to Bobby was only going to keep her in check for so long.”
Though part of him knew Shard had no reason to lie, his mind rebelled. Marie wasn’t inherently bad. He couldn’t believe that.
He could feel her eyes on him, the weight of her probing stare sending the fine hairs on the back of his neck to attention. Yeah, she definitely took lessons from her mother while she got all that stealth training.
“I should have protected her.”
Shard nodded sharply. “Maybe. Or maybe things are exactly the way they should be.”
Logan swung his face around, immediately catching the glowing gaze so achingly familiar.
“How can you say that?” He demanded hotly, grasping her arm. “She’s not like him, Elizabeth.”
She held his gaze, unwavering, fearlessly. “I wasn’t trained for this like Luke. I call it like I see it. She’s a kid, Daddy, but she made her choice.”
Reminded, painfully, of the day Ororo confronted him in his bedroom, he released Lizzie’s arm. Shaking his head, he dropped his hands back to the railing, fingers grasping the edge as though to steady himself. Shard went back to her contemplation of him, her gaze hot and heavy as he tried to avoid it.
“Daddy,” she tried again, tilting her head to study him further. “This isn’t your fault. Guilt won’t solve anything.”
“I have to save her,” he said, surprised by the admission. “I can’t…”
“Fine.” Shard’s voice was immediately hard as diamonds and sharper than a blade. “Then I’ll cease to exist. So will Luke, and mother. Who the hell knows how many others!”
“You can’t predict the future!” He roared, pushing away from the railing and turning his back on her.
“No, I can’t. I can only tell you what decades of research told me. Rogue doesn’t want to be saved.”
Thrusting a hand into his unruly hair, Logan took several seconds to simply breathe. It didn’t matter how much he loved his family…or would come to. He’d promised Rogue, swore to protect her. The overwhelming guilt that he let her down crushed his heart.
“I came back to save my brother.” His daughter continued unrelentingly. “He came back to save his family. Can’t you understand that we wouldn’t do anything “ not one damn thing “ to put that in jeopardy?”
“You came back to stop a war, fuck the consequences.” He countered quietly.
“Yeah, that’s what we told ‘em. That’s what we said.” Shard sighed, then swallowed audibly. “We lied. Bishop came back for you, for Mama. No more, no less.”
Logan slowly turned back to face her. Still crouched on the railing, she was like some Amazon princess come to right wrongs and serve justice. Blonde locks floated about her face, caught on the sweet breeze. Glowing eyes reflected determination and longing. Her stance was all primal instinct.
Could he turn away from his own child? Logan didn’t think he had the strength for this.
“A great man once told me that sacrifices are necessary, that they happen every day. That doesn’t mean they can’t suck serious balls.”
Amused, though he tried to deny it, Logan snorted. “Who the fuck told you that?”
Shard smirked, one of her light brows arching delicately. “You did. Duh.”
He paused, mind still churning over everything she’d said, everything he was feeling. The click of the inside door told him Ororo had finally come to bed. Shard smiled softly, nodding her head toward the bedroom.
“Go on.”
Logan met his daughter’s gaze once more and could not help but ask one, simple question.
“Am I a good father?”
Lizzie blinked at him, then exhaled shakily, as though fighting tears. “If you weren’t, why would Luke and I be fighting so fucking hard for you?”
Before he could respond, Shard pushed off from the railing and leapt onto the roof. He watched her go, listening to the barely-detectable footsteps as they retreated above. That was one hell of a kid, he decided as Ororo poked her head onto the balcony.
“Logan?” Her beautiful face was a mask of confusion.
“I’m here,” he answered, still listening to his daughter’s footsteps.
“What are you doing out here?” His wife-to-be asked, coming up behind him.
Logan shrugged one shoulder, finally dropping his gaze to meet hers. No matter what they shared, something about his talk with Shard seemed too personal to repeat. He wanted that moment, that memory for his own.
“Nothin’, darlin’. Nothin’ at all.”
