Chapter Twenty-One: Collapse
Fallen angels at my feet
Whispered voices at my ear
Death before my eyes
Lying next to me I fear
She beckons me shall I give in
Upon my end shall I begin
Forsaking all I've fallen for
I rise to meet my end
~Evanescence
While Wolverine writhed on the floor, his son and daughter cradled the weakened body. Rogue continued to weep and scream in the same breath, whatever she absorbed from Logan tearing her heart into shreds.
“Ali.”
Piotr turned to Dazzler, whom looked shocked and confused. “Yeah?”
“Come on.” He took her hand, indicating for Kitty and Bobby to follow. The foursome bolted down the corridor, three looking to the metallic Colossus as though perplexed.
He stopped them, Rogue’s screaming mingled with the thunder as the sounds dulled. They still had a mission, no matter what was happening. Find and destroy the airborne cure. With his friends at his side, Colossus took the lead.
“We have to find the cure.” He said quietly. Dazzler’s hand squeezed his.
“You’re right.” Iceman gulped, looking around them as though he would find a sign pointing them in the right direction. “Which way, Boss?”
Shadowcat poked his shoulder, pointing down the corridor. A thick glass door sat at the end of the hall, proclaiming: Danger “ Radiation.
“Didn’t Psylocke say something about radiation near the cure?” Dazzler asked, dropping Piotr’s hand to sprint toward the door.
“Al!” Kitty cried, chasing her. “There are guards!”
Piotr felt the chill, a creeping foreboding that threatened to incapacitate him. He tore off after both girls, with Iceman at his side. Fate, he remembered, was a fickle fiend. She took at random, leaving those behind to mourn and rage. They’d fooled her so many times already; it seemed appropriate that she might interfere now.
Dazzler reached the door unhindered, pressing her face against the cool surface, hands coming up to steady her. Shadowcat was still several meters behind, ahead of the boys that followed.
“Stop!”
An unfamiliar voice whipped Dazzler’s head around. The world slid into slow motion as Piotr skidded to a stop. A thousand memories flipped through his mind, even as the gunfire echoed in the corridor.
He watched, unable to move, as Alison’s tiny body took four bullets to the chest. She never had time to react, to defend herself. Kitty screamed with loss, the sound akin to a still-beating heart pulled from a warm chest. Iceman stopped as well, as though someone hit the pause button. Men were running, shouting, even as Ali’s limp form was tossed back onto the bloodied floor.
Piotr would never recall screaming her name, only that he rushed to her side, still coated in metal. The next round of bullets ricocheted off of him, stopped when Kitty and Bobby fell on the attackers. They did not kill the bastards with guns, but sealed all three up into ice, leaving heads free.
“M-Mother R-Russia…”
He grasped Ali’s hand, shifting back into his human form. Tears streaming down his face, Piotr squeezed her hand. They both knew, without him even looking at the holes in her chest, that this was it. She coughed red blood, wearily grabbing his arm with her free hand.
Kitty and Bobby remained back several paces, but he could hear her crying.
“Ali, no.” Piotr pled, his voice shaking. “Stay with me. Don’t…don’t go.”
She did not respond for several seconds, as though every breath took every bit of her will to process. Deep jade eyes dulled, the light leaving them as her blood soaked the tile beneath her.
“I love you.”
“Ali. Ali!” Piotr felt her go limp, felt the life leave her body as those eyes closed forever. Weeping openly, he gathered her into his arms, clutching her to his chest. Rocking back and forth, unable to contemplate that she’d gone, he whispered prayers in Russian, begging a merciful God to return her.
“I love you,” he sobbed into her hair. “God. No. Ali. My Ali. Come back. Please.”
Kitty fell to her knees at his side, reaching for her friend as she wept. Bobby sniffled, wiping at his eyes with one leather glove. The three of them remained that way for several minutes. Piotr did not know if he would ever leave that moment. Everything he wanted in his life was wrapped up in the girl lying dead in his arms.
There was no rage. It was only sorrow, grief, deep and debilitating that filled the empty place where Ali had been. He touched her blood-smeared face, kissing still-warm lips one last time. Lingering there for a moment, he let his tears fall onto her face.
“Guys,” Bobby choked. “We have to…I’m sorry, but…”
“Its ok, Bobby,” Kitty sniffled loudly. “Pete…”
He continued rocking, looking into the peaceful beauty of Alison’s face. Not wanting to move, he shook his head. “I don’t care. Go.”
“We’re not leaving you here,” Iceman retorted fiercely. “More guards could come.”
“We’ll come back for her,” Shadowcat whispered. Piotr finally took his eyes from Alison’s face. Tears and grief swam there, but behind determination and understanding. “We won’t leave her here with them. I promise, Peter.”
With Kitty leading him gently, Piotr slowly released the hold on Alison’s body. Together, they lowered her tenderly to the floor, each ensuring they did not injure her battered body. Piotr rose, his fingers trailing over her cheek.
He shifted, flexing muscle so that organic steel coated his body. Kitty busily bypassed the door’s security precautions and the trio stepped into the super-heated laboratory.
Inside was vacant, as though the scientists evacuated swiftly. Long tables were filled with equipment, most of which Piotr could not name. He cared very little for what was happening here, only wanting to complete this mission so he could die from grief.
Die. She was dead. They killed her.
The rage came now. Roaring with it, Colossus slammed both metal-laced fists into the tables, destroying work that obviously took time to accomplish. Chairs splintered, glass broke, and still he rampaged. Destroying computers, wishing they were human bodies, Piotr did not stop until he heard Kitty call for him, fear tingeing her voice.
“In here.”
A large, round chamber stood at the back of the room, marked with symbols that betrayed it as radioactive. Moving toward it, flanked by Kitty and Bobby, Piotr peered into the small glass window. Long rows of test tubes were inside, numbers and letters written on them in some order Piotr couldn’t decipher.
“It’s the cure,” Kitty said when he moved aside to allow the other two to look. “That’s the genetic code for it.”
“Now what? Anyone got a small bomb handy?” Bobby quipped half-heartedly.
“There’s a generator in there,” she responded. “If we could overload it, it might get hot enough to burn the cure up. These blast doors should withstand the fire and the radiation leak, that’s why they were built.”
Piotr, heart still raw, nodded. “I’ll go.”
“Are you nuts? There’s no way you’d get out in time!” Bobby fairly shouted.
“Does it matter?”
Both must have seen something in his eyes, for they backed down. Kitty explained, swiftly, how to overload the generator and opened the door. Piotr stepped inside, closing his eyes as it sealed up behind him. Perhaps his mutation would protect him…but if it did not, he would at least see Alison again.
With Bobby and Kitty watching him, Piotr ducked into the narrow corridor between racks of Cure and zeroed in on the generator.
~**~
High above the X-Men, Ororo faced a blind Magneto. The light from Dazzler’s mutation horribly burned his face and hands, but the grip he had on her was fierce. The metal lacing her uniform was a calculated risk. Upon undertaking this mission, she knew it was insanity to wear metal while battling the “master of magnetism”. However, they were unsure whether or not Magneto would even appear and going up against mutants and humans without even a little protection was just plain crazy.
Now, of course, that metallic protection reached up and bit her in the ass.
She drew on her own gifts, pulling a tornado from empty skies until it swirled around both Storm and her foe. How could he even know he had the right person? Did he merely reach down and grab one at random?
“Ah, my dear Storm,” Magneto greeted almost warmly, though there was pain in his voice. “Now we may speak alone.”
Because he had her by the proverbial balls, Storm kept her voice calm. Fear for herself, for her son, kept her from releasing mutation completely.
“Is that what you wanted, Erik? A chat?”
Magneto chuckled. “I wonder how did you manage to subvert both Psylocke and Pyro? They were once impossibly loyal to me.”
“Oh?” Storm allowed herself to grin. “Release me and we will talk, Erik. I can fly, you know.”
Much to her surprise, Magneto let loose his hold on her armor. Startled, Ororo easily called on the winds, staying aloft and facing him. Was it a gesture of trust? Or had Dazzler weakened him with her blinding light?
“Tell me,” he urged, bringing her out of contemplation. “Does my beloved Psylocke fancy herself in love with the traitorous Pyro?”
Bristling, Ororo clenched her hands into fists. “They love one another, yes. But it was your looming madness that drew them both to the X-Men. Why, Erik? Why do you want to destroy us?”
“Destroy you?” Amusement played about his burned face. “Is that what you think I am doing?”
Storm hovered a little closer, letting the rage she carefully controlled until now surface.
“You have created an airborne “cure” for mutation. What other use could you have for it than the destruction of those you see as traitors?”
His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Not the X-Men, Storm. You.”
Fear, cold and consuming, flooded her very blood. It took every amount of courage, of tenacity in her to remain in front of this man. Because of Magneto, the world would see combat as it never had before. How many lives did he cost them all? For what? Vengeance?
“Why me?” the question was quiet, nearly lost as they stood on empty air in the eye of a tornado.
“You should have ended it when Charles died,” Erik accused. “This dream of his was best laid to rest when the Phoenix destroyed him.”
“YOU destroyed him, Erik.” Storm shot back, the grief rising to twist her heart. “Your betrayal, your use of the Phoenix destroyed him. You let him die.”
For a moment, the pain of losing Charles swelled between them. For that instant, they were united in the loss. They both felt the blow to their hearts, knowing that life would always be a little bit worse without the benevolence, the kindness Charles ever carried with him.
She nearly reached out to comfort the man that had been her mentor’s best friend. But she recoiled, Lucas’ voice echoing in her mind.
“I have many regrets, Ororo.” Magneto paused, his hands raising. She braced herself. “But if your Bishop has seen the future, we will ever be at odds. You came here to stop me? What makes you think you have the power?”
They clashed immediately. Magneto attempted to regain a hold on her metallic uniform, but Storm battled back with a shocking bolt of lightning. Drawing on her fear, on the maternal instinct she always harbored, she flung the tornado at him, propelling upward in the same instant.
“You don’t stand a chance, Storm!” He roared over the winds, sidestepping her storm cell. “You know that I am more powerful.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Erik!” Her scream melded with the winds, which came forth in ancient harmony with rain and hail. Lightning slashed at the sky. He tried to push her back with a magnetic field, but before he could, Ororo unzipped her uniform and let it fall from her body.
The black body stocking, worn to protect the skin from leather, soaked with the rain. Knowing she was somewhat safer from Magneto “ drawing on the iron in one’s blood took much more concentration “ she flattened her body and flew in a tight circle.
Magneto screamed in rage, tossing magnetic fields blindly when he realized she’d cast her uniform aside. “I’ll kill you! And the death of both you and that squalling brat will clear the way for mutants everywhere.”
“Charles,” Ororo whispered to the sky. “I’m sorry.”
She knew what to do and could not hesitate. Cold trickled through her body, the pull of Magneto attempting to draw the iron out of her blood. Before it was too late, she had to silence her mentor’s friend.
Coming up behind the blind mutant, Ororo whispered in his ear. “Goodbye, Erik.”
Lightning erupted from her palm and Storm reached out to touch Magneto. He screamed, the sound echoing even over the winds she called to whisk her away. Raw electricity ripped through the mutant foe and his hold on her released. Magneto fell, still caught in the seizure she induced.
When his body struck the ground, she looked away. Sickened, horrified, Ororo barely kept hold on her senses. There was still the cure to worry about and Magneto’s weakened forces. Turning upside down, Storm flew back to the building, to her family.
~**~
“Oh, God.”
Psylocke spoke as Rogue cowered in a corner. Pyro glanced at her, noting the sudden sorrow on her face.
“What?”
“Dazzler,” she spoke haltingly. “They’ve killed Dazzler.”
Bishop stood, his face terrible with rage. “Who killed Dazzler?”
Pyro stepped between his love and the futuristic mutant. Everything was so surreal. Magneto and Storm battling it out high above them, Rogue thrown into chaos with Wolverine on the floor…now someone was dead?
He looked around, realizing that four X-Men were absent. Worried, though he and Iceman had their disputes, he grasped Psylocke’s hand.
“Guards,” the violet-eyed telepath answered. “She was shot. Colossus and the others are destroying the cure.”
“How?” Bishop questioned, reaching for his rifle.
“Fire. They’ll overload the generator.”
But Rogue’s screaming stopped. The silence deafening after so much noise, Pyro and the others turned quickly to stare at her. Braced for whatever she might throw at them now, they closed ranks, even stepping in front of the injured Shard and their weak father.
“What did I do?” Marie questioned, tears in her eyes. “I never meant…I didn’t want…”
“You are a spoiled child,” Bishop shot back, obviously angry. “People are dead because of you, Rogue.”
The young girl’s face crumbled and she buried it in her hands. Her sobs echoed in the quiet, the destruction all around absolute. Pyro wondered at the anti-climatic feel to this entire scene. They came prepared for battle, only to split up. One X-Man was dead, another’s fate unknown as the skies cleared.
“Ha,” Psylocke said ruthlessly as something hit the ground outside with an echo. “Storm won.”
“Yes, I did,” replied the X-Men leader as she dropped through the broken ceiling. “And no, I’m not proud of it.”
“Magneto?” Bishop asked, coming over to his mother.
“Dead.” She responded. There were cuts on her face and her uniform was gone, but Pyro was momentarily stunned by the fierce conviction in her eyes. Magneto never stood a chance against so powerful a woman.
“Logan?” Storm peered past her son, to the man she loved lying limp beside her daughter. “What happened?”
Once she had Logan’s hand in hers, Rogue stood. Her face was still ravaged by grief, but she was no longer trembling. Pyro opened a fist, wondering if he’d have to burn the girl to get her to back down. No matter what powers she’d stolen, there was a time limit. He’d like nothing better than to destroy this kid.
Storm turned to her, eyes sweeping over the girl’s face. Her hand still clutched that of the Wolverine, but her stance was all about protection. No matter what happened, this woman risked everything for her family.
John wondered if he could ever claim the same. Sure, he’d gone over to the enemy to protect Psylocke, but was he truly a good man or did he just have moments of weakness?
Stop doubting, John.
At Betsy’s silent command, he yanked his thoughts back to the present.
“He…” Rogue stammered. “He told me he’d show me what love really was. Oh, God, Storm. I didn’t know. I couldn’t understand.”
Logan stirred, blinking one eye open as Rogue’s mutation released him. “Now you do, kid. So, what’s it gonna be? Us or them?”
Pyro glanced at Bishop, whom moved back to hold his sister. They shared a glance, something heavy stretching between them. He knew, without a doubt, that this was the moment they were waiting for, the instant that would ever alter the future.
“You,” Rogue answered heatedly. “I wanna come home.”
In the same instant, an explosion rocked the building. Psylocke gripped her head, her powerful mind reaching out to touch the other mutants. Pyro held her close, steadying her so she wouldn’t fall while she consulted the array of minds at her command.
“They’ve done it.” Betsy exalted, jumping up to embrace Pyro. “The Brotherhood is on the run, humans are evacuating like hell just opened up, and the X-Men destroyed the cure!”
Pyro whooped loudly, swinging his beloved around while Storm watched them curiously. She couldn’t understand the joy that came with being liberated. For the first time in their lives, Betsy and John were free. They rejoiced in the private, mental link they shared, wild with relief.
So John never saw Bishop and Shard touch their armbands and vanish from their timeline.
~**~
They landed on the grounds of Xavier’s School some ten years in the future. Shard, still wounded, clung to her brother. Bishop held her tightly, keeping his eyes closed as he feared for what they might find.
Forge insisted they take the final jump, just to ensure everything ended in the way they wanted. Their armbands could help them exist outside of time for only a few minutes, allowing them to glimpse at the future they gave their lives to create. It was, Forge explained, the only gift he could give.
Sounds of laughter reached his ears and Bishop’s heart clenched. Birds were singing and sunlight felt warm on his cheeks. No gunfire, no explosions. Carefully, Luke opened his eyes, surprised to find that the grounds were in tact. There were children playing basketball in the warm summer breeze.
“Oh, God.” Lizzie whispered, struggling to stand. “Luke…did we do it?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He hooked his sister’s arm over his shoulder, half-carrying her so they could look around.
No battle had been waged here, he thought as they skirted the lake, heading toward the house. Everything was as he’d last seen it, just before the battle with Magneto’s forces. Grass green and thick under his boots did not fit in with the dirty, ragged place his father once insisted had been their home.
He could hear a familiar laugh mingled with a young boy’s dopey giggles. Sensing that it was safe, he pulled Shard to the side of the building, allowing her to lean on the corner and peer around it with him.
Mother was running in the warm sunlight, a water gun in her hands. She chased a boy of around ten, a boy Bishop recognized as himself. Mother soaked her son, laughing as though her life held no sorrow.
“Mama,” Shard whispered. “Oh, that’s my Mama.”
“Shh,” Bishop cautioned as the back door opened.
“What in the flamin’ hell are you two doin’?”
“Father,” both children said in unison. They shifted, peeking further around the corner.
Wolverine had not aged, but carried a toddler on one hip. Elizabeth’s white hair and big blue eyes gave her away as she clapped at her brother’s antics. Bishop felt tears lodge in his throat, watching his father expertly bounce his baby sister on one denim-covered hip.
“Playing!” Luke said, getting his mother directly in the back with a jet of water from his sophisticated water gun.
“Looks like it. Don’t you point that thing over here, Luke. You get Lizzie wet and I’ll tan your hide.” Logan snapped, shifting so his large body protected the baby girl.
Ororo bounced over to her husband, kissing him and their daughter quickly. They whispered, so low that neither of the peeking adults could hear. But Bishop knew the suddenly rigid stance of both parents and grinned.
“They know we’re here,” he whispered to Shard. She nodded, melting back a little and clutching her wounded side.
A beat later, Logan insisted little Luke take his sister inside. The boy grumbled good-naturedly, but was promised ice cream if he looked after her for a few minutes. Bishop grinned, realizing that his sister would have ice cream as well.
“Hello?” Mother’s soft greeting preceded her by a heartbeat.
Having heard the approach, Bishop merely smiled when his parents came around the corner. Mother embraced him swiftly before turning to Shard. The two women were grinning, tears standing in their eyes.
“August third, 2020.” Father offered when he met Bishop’s eyes.
Mental calculations flew through Bishop’s weary mind. By this time, in the old timeline, Magneto waged war on humanity at large. But there was no war here, no battles, nothing that said he had failed.
Father clutched his shoulder, smiling slightly. Fatherhood settled well on the once gruff Wolverine. But he seemed so happy now, so calm and settled that it increased the ache in Bishop’s heart. He’d never know these wonderful people without the turmoil of war. Here they could just be.
“Its not perfect,” Wolverine told him quietly. “But it’s all right.”
“Mutants have more freedoms,” Mother chimed in. “Like your father said, it’s not perfect, but we’re happy. There’s no war or even the threat of one.”
Shard exhaled sharply. “What happened to everyone?”
“Quickly,” Bishop pled. “We don’t have much time.”
Mother began, taking a hand from each child in hers. Those hands were so strong, he mused, prepared for whatever lay ahead.
“Marie came back to the X-Men, but she had some problems. She’d killed a mutant and permanently gained the ability to fly and avoid most injury. She’s in prison for the murder right now.”
“I’m sorry,” Bishop muttered.
“Its ok, she’s doin’ better, son.” Logan cleared his throat. “Kitten and Iceboy got married a few years back. They’re expectin’.”
“Wicked.” Shard interjected. “Happy?”
“Disgusting.” Wolverine flashed her a grin.
“Pyro and Psylocke relocated to Johannesburg right after the battle. We get letters from time to time. They were married a year after the battle with Magneto. And, believe it or not, they formed a strong friendship with Kitten and Bobby.”
“Weird,” Shard and Bishop whispered in unison.
“They’re leading their own team out of South Africa, nicknamed X-Treme.” Mother added almost absently. “With the anti-mutant protests there, they thought it was a good idea. It’s working rather well, from what we’ve heard.”
Bishop paused, dreading the next question. While they’d all had ten years to deal with Dazzler’s death, for him, it was mere moments ago. He could not help the idea that he failed that vivacious girl.
“Colossus?” He inquired softly. “How is…”
Storm and Wolverine shared a heavy glance at this. Both sets of eyes reflected pain, and they looked toward the four gravestones in the garden almost involuntarily.
“Alison’s death changed him,” Mother replied carefully. “He stayed with us long enough to see her buried and returned to Russia.”
“Only one he still talks to is Kitty, but even that’s few and far between. Works on his family’s farm.”
“He never got over it,” Shard whispered sadly.
“Pete loved her,” Father answered with a shrug. “Still does. That changes you.”
Luke caught his sister’s gaze and the pain behind it. They’d changed so much, saved so many lives, but the guilt weighed in. They’d known the tiny, blonde singer. Before they came back, she was not even a blip on the radar…
“Pete told me somethin’, right before he left.” Father cut into his son’s thoughts. “Told me to give you both a message.”
Startled, both children stared.
“We saw you two vanish, I guess we all figured you’d come to check it out.” Logan grinned. “Anyway, Pete told me to thank you both.”
“Thank us?” Shard interrupted. “He lived, but…”
“He loved,” Storm added. “I think he wanted to thank you for that gift.”
Bishop’s armband began to beep and he impulsively embraced his father. Logan held on just as tightly, saying goodbye for the final time.
“Please,” Luke whispered. “Don’t ever tell little Lucas what I did. He doesn’t need that kind of pressure.”
“You got it, son,” Father chuckled.
They broke apart so he could hug his mother, so Shard could say goodbye to their father. Mother was smiling through her tears, touching the brand over his eye before she kissed his forehead.
“You’ll never be marked, my son.” Mother whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”
When they parted, Bishop turned to hold his sister. Mother and Father clasped hands, even as their children began to phase in and out of reality.
“We done good, big brother?” Shard asked, her voice an eerie echo.
“Done real good, kid.” Bishop responded, pulling her closer. They held on, even as time took them apart, leaving their parents alone in the mansion’s shadow.
The last image Storm and Wolverine had of their warrior children was them holding one another, smiling in contentment and victory.
Neither said anything, but stared at the empty space for a long time. Finally, still holding on to one another, they turned back toward the house. Their children came to say goodbye, to take the knowledge with them of a better world.
“MOTHER!”
Little Lucas came barreling out of the house, covered in chocolate sauce, his face infuriated. Logan peered into the wide, glass door to find his two-year-old daughter smirking. A bottle of chocolate syrup lay abandoned on the floor.
Logan couldn’t help it. He threw his head back and laughed.
~****~
For any Colossus/Dazzler fans, I've written a Piotr-centric "Missing Moment" from this fic. If you'd like to read how Piotr dealt with Alison's death, please check out What Hurts the Most at my livejournal.
I warn ya, it's angsty and I cried. A lot.
~Gaineewop
