The only comfort Logan took over the next two days was hearing only one set of footsteps overhead, moving about in Ororo’s loft before he went to sleep. She wasn’t saturated in Forge’s scent anymore, ever since the revelations he’d beaten them over the head with when he showed them the files. Logan didn’t feel any less inclined use him as a bulls-eye.
He was a civilized man. A man of experience and reason. He resolved issues and his problems with other people using the usual tools: Taking a motorcycle ride, smoking cigars, and imbibing lots and lots of beer. What did it matter if he had the mad urge to stroll outside, unzip himself, and piss an invisible moat around the school to mark his territory? He was making progress with the second tool at hand; the smoke curled sweetly on his tongue before he breathed it into his lungs. See? He was still snugly zipped. No problem.
Then there was Magneto. Okay, big problem. There just wasn’t enough beer or tobacco in the friggin’ world.
He was starting to outstay his welcome. Logan admitted he was developing a growing fondness for Erik’s protégée, whom he wouldn’t acknowledge as his daughter yet. He wanted to cling to his steadfast belief that she was inherently good, not manipulative and self-serving, nor did she seem to share Magneto’s agenda of mass genocide, despite recent events. She’d been cast out of her family home by the same people who had chosen her as their child. That didn’t come without cost or collateral damage. She was orphaned, and who better to follow and vow loyalty to than a man who knew the same tragedy?
Then again, Logan knew something about being orphaned and losing everything…
~0~
Beast didn’t enjoy playing warden. More appealing activities included having root canals, being strung up with a rack and thumb screws, and setting himself on fire.
“Quaint little device, McCoy.”
“So you’ve told me.” With little variation. Henry counted eight times so far, each one losing more of its gloss with repetition.
“I see you’ve continued to carry out Charles’ pacifist beliefs and ideology beyond the grave. He’d be touched, as am I.” His tone wasn’t taunting, but Henry hated the gleam in his wintry eyes. “This won’t hold me.”
“I beg to differ.” Henry licked his thumb and turned the page of his Daily Bugle with a crisp flap.
“You’ll wish you’d killed me.”
“And one day, you’ll wish you’d shown more mercy, Erik.”
“To whom?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Henry savored his mug of coffee, careful not to spill any on the console of the Containment Room. “Take your pick,” he offered blandly, measuring him with large, slanted cobalt eyes over the rim of his cup. Erik smiled.
“I can’t show what I’ve never known.”
“Charles would argue that point with you.”
“Charles isn’t here.”
“You played a larger part in that than you feel like admitting.” Erik’s smile faltered a bit, and he sank back from the currents of energy streaming from the ceiling to the concrete floor.
His makeshift guest room had been years in the making. Constructed of vibranium and more of the high-density plastic used by the Homeland Security’s special division assigned to handle mutant threats, particularly Magneto’s previous captivity, it served the dual purpose of dampening his power and containing him without the metal he needed to utilize them. The concept came courtesy of Dr. Moira MacTaggert, spawned following the death of her son, Kevin. Tragedy, in tandem with necessity, bred invention when the X-Men had been forced to take his life. Piotr suffered crises of conscience when he’d been forced to strike the killing blow; his organic steel form was Kevin’s one Achilles’ heel, since contact with metals proved both toxic and fatal. He refused offers from both Charles and Jean to place a telepathic “blanket” over the memory of the incident to help him cope with it. It gnawed at him, but it renewed his belief in the cause that mutants would always need help in controlling, rather than just containing, their powers so they would never be a danger to themselves or anyone else.
Moira, like Forge, held a personal stake in protecting mutantkind’s future; however, she wasn’t subject to government intervention, having complete autonomy on her isolated manor in Kinross and a sizable trust she’d inherited from her father.
Moira had played a part in the creation of Cerebro; Erik had never been privy to the containment module, and never would have supported its creation, perhaps even resorting to sabotage.
“Charles chose to make himself my enemy, but I never let go of my respect for him. A broader vision of our kind’s potential was all that he lacked. He had his virtues, mind you,” he reasoned, noting the tense set of Henry’s shoulders and the faint bristling of his hackles with a hint of satisfaction. “But he refused to see that the only way to end human oppression of mutants was for us to rise up and wipe them from the earth. They have grown too sure of themselves and have spread their narrow-minded goals like a stain, infecting the next generation with their ignorance. When you refuse to grow and evolve, you’ve consigned yourself to extinction.” His eyes skimmed over Henry’s massive, hirsute body with a mixture of amusement and derision. “Or in some cases, we regress once more to the beasts that originally crawled this earth.”
“You wound me,” Henry declared in a voice that contradicted that Erik had done any such thing. “Bravo. Skillfully done. How ironic is it, then, that I’m outside your cage, looking in? Some would say animals are more humane than humankind, the same humans who call us monsters. Mutants were never meant to subjugate and prey on our brethren, Erik. You claim that Charles’ vision of the future was too narrow, but your vision merely relegates us to the end of the food chain. Devour or be devoured.” Henry drained his coffee. “And let me remind you, my friend, that you have also played a part in creating the beast that may one day swallow our kind without any remorse. Or mercy.”
“The Prime units are mutants, enhanced and used by those who seek to destroy our kind, and yes, McCoy, I had a hand in it. I will also have a hand in righting that wrong. Mutantkind will be saved from this new threat,” he promised wryly.
“And then?”
“And then we will rule. Any who oppose that rule will be dealt with according to the mercy they have shown us.”
“An eye for an eye.”
“Ten lives for a life.” Henry sighed heavily and laid aside his paper.
“Have you shared these views with Lorna? How do you think she would feel, knowing she holds someone on a pedestal who would sanction the taking of so many lives? They aren’t merely humans, Erik, particularly not to her. They are her friends, her peers, her parents, and anyone who she interacts with every day of her life. You would take that away from her, much in the vein that everything was taken from you. You would use her like that.”
“I don’t agree. They aren’t her peers. And judging from her flight from her own home, how can you call them her family?” Erik leaned back on his cot and reached into his pocket, extracting a photograph taken in San Francisco before he’d left. He held it up; Henry peered at it from his vantage point at the console. “This young woman is the exception, not the rule.” Aleytys smiled radiantly from the pier beside Paolo and her crew, hoisting up an enormous swordfish with pride.
“If she stood in the way of your goals, would you kill her?” Henry asked smoothly. Erik laid the photograph on the cot before replying, and his expression brooked no doubt.
“Yes.”
“Then she isn’t the exception to the rule. And the rule you defend so strongly doesn’t accomplish what rules are established for, namely to maintain order and ensure good will.”
“The wrong order is being maintained. I mean to change that, too.” But Henry didn’t miss the look of longing and regret that washed over Erik’s features as he continued to stare at the snapshot.
“Lorna misses you, Erik. If you would serve her best interests, since you declare that you care for her and her future so much…you won’t push her down this path.”
“Don’t be surprised at the path that she chooses, when offered that choice.” Henry suppressed a low growl before barking into the intercom for Piotr to send down the afternoon meal for two.
~0~
“Can I speak with you for a moment?”
“I’m occupied right now.”
“Feel free to stay that way. I just wanted to bend your ear.” Slender fingers manipulated the mouse and clicked through the database housed on the flash drive. Her expression was bland and thoughtful, and her voice held no hint of the scorned, immovable goddess who’d read him the riot act upon his return to the school. He almost favored the threat of castration that Piotr had suggested in jest than the silent treatment. Silence could be deadly.
The images and words onscreen were reflected in her clear, intelligent azure eyes, her face bathed in the glow of the monitor.
“We’re making progress in tracking the signal.” Forge sat opposite Ororo in the spare chair in front of her desk without further invitation and eased himself back against the cool leather upholstery. His face looked slightly drawn, but it didn’t diminish his dark good looks; Ororo wanted to muster sympathy for the faint dark circles beneath his coffee brown eyes, but it was a strain.
“You’ve isolated where it’s coming from?”
“Not quite that much progress. We’ve narrowed it down to several different locations where we detected similar signals using different frequencies. Henry asked me to continue testing and tracking them while he’s on vigil.” Forge never suggested that he spell Henry, knowing that he was a liability with the metal that composed his prosthetics, despite the power-dampening capability of the containment cell. No sense in tempting a shark from a life raft…
“I’ll join you shortly. I’m nearly finished.”
“Where do we go from here?” His gaze never wavered, while hers never met it.
“Pardon?”
“When we find the signal? What action do you plan to take, Ororo?”
“We interrupt the signal. Worst case scenario? We do what we do best, namely put up a hell of a fight. The students are safer here than they would be if we dismissed them and sent them home. If the Prime units can detect us by our mutant physiology, they won’t stop at searching for the children, one by one. There’s safety in numbers.”
“Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket.” She huffed under her breath in disgust. “You’ll fight,” he continued.
“There’s no other choice.”
“And what then? Will you kill?”
“Not if I can help it. But sometimes it can’t be helped.” He felt her bristling at him, even though her face remained calm.
“Spoken like someone who’s seen war.” His tone held no judgment, and she took small comfort in that.
“More like someone who’s incurred loss. Of everything I knew.” She kept clicking and typing dispassionately, but her lips tightened and gave him pause. Nervous pangs of anticipation stirred in his chest. “I refuse to lose everything I’ve gained.”
“Tell me.”
“Excuse me if I don’t feel comfortable telling you anything, given recent events.” She reached up to knead a kink out of her neck, sweeping aside the lush fall of hair. She reached into her desk supply tray and fished out a rubber band, looping it once around her tresses to pull it into a loose ponytail.
“I know you feel I betrayed you,” he murmured, echoing her gesture as he rubbed his own nape and continued to watch her. The stubborn tilt of her chin hadn’t softened once she went back to reviewing the files.
“My own fault, I guess. You can’t betray someone without winning their trust first. And you did.”
“I’d like to win it back.”
“Then you’re fighting a losing battle.”
“Then call me stubborn.” He went out on a limb and stood, circling her wide desk and leaning his haunches against it, forcing her to follow the long, lean lines of his body up to his concerned face. Only when he had her attention did he grasp her hand, stilling its almost rhythmic clicking. Barely suppressed indignation and the first tendrils of rage sparked in her eyes, and he felt her tense up like a cat about to pounce.
“I can come up with better names to call you.”
“Save your breath. I’ve already called myself worse since this happened, Ororo.” Ororo glared up at him, not believing he’d accomplished his boast. Her fingers felt cool in his grip, and every bit as soft as he remembered. Brief moments they’d stolen before the incident downtown pricked at him, and he felt a flush of heat sweep through him that he futilely tried to hide. “You don’t know how sorry I am. No matter what happens, please…just know that I can’t live with myself if we don’t stop Gyrich and put Prime out of commission.”
“I’ll let that rock me to sleep tonight, provided I get any. It’s unlikely.” Forge’s nostrils flared, his eyes dilating as he stared at her mouth. No more radiant smiles, he mused with regret. He’d taken them away.
“I’d give anything to know who dared to take anything from you, Ororo.” She wrung her hand free from his grip and leaned back in her chair, tilting herself to better stare at him.
“I was a child. I could hardly stop them, now could I? A fighter plane flew over my home. A spare shell hit the roof of our apartment. My parents and I were inside when it happened.” She sighed, and suddenly her face looked as exhausted as she felt. Forge’s stomach clenched, knowing what she was about to reveal, and hating it. “I was the only one who walked away. And I walked for miles.”
“Where?”
“Across the Serengeti. I nearly died, but something was guiding my steps. I found out early it was a journey I had to make alone.”
“You were a child?”
“I was a potential target. Vulnerable.” She stood abruptly, forcing him to back away to avoid contact with her while she was still seething. “Weak.”
“No. Inexperienced,” he corrected her.
“Easily led,” she countered. “Do you know why I don’t trust strangers, Forge? Particularly those who hide behind sweet smiles and charming words? Because that charm doesn’t come without a price.” She stood and reached for her cup of tea, which had long grown cold, but she fortified herself with a shallow sip as she steadied herself. “I paid it in blood.” She set the cup back on its saucer, and her back was turned to him as she spoke. Her words stuck with him: Vulnerable, now that she let down her guard. He couldn’t waste it. Her stance wasn’t as stiff; he knew that her arms were crossed over her chest and that she stared at her feet. “Killing should never be a necessity. I still believe that. Even after we lost Jean. When I cried for her, after she died, Forge, it wasn’t just that I lost her. I cried because Logan took her life so that I wouldn’t have to. He had another death on his head and more blood on his hands. And he loved her. It defied description, to love someone like that.” And the memory of his eyes that night, when she was shouting at him to see reason still burned. “I have blood on my hands, too.”
“Ororo?” His voice was plaintive, and while he didn’t touch her, she could feel him at her back, closing the gap between them, his breath stirring her hair. “I don’t deserve to know…but I’d like to.”
“I was nearly raped on my trek. A man drove up in his truck and offered me a ride. I had a torn sandal that was rubbing my foot raw, and the heat was cooking my soles. He promised me a drink if I got in.” He hissed out a breath through his teeth. “He was touching me. Trying to use me. He hurt me, Forge.” Overhead, Forge heard the rumbling of thunder, the advent of a storm he knew would leave them all on edge.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered, horrified. He felt a surge of protective anger rise up within him on behalf of the child she once was, likely younger than any of the students he’d met at the school.
“I reached for the first thing that came to my hand. I’d stolen a hunting knife while I was still in Cairo, not knowing when I’d need it. I didn’t expect it to feel that way, when I stuck the knife in. Nothing feels worse.”
“No. Nothing feels worse.”
“I had blood on my hands. All over my clothes. I couldn’t wipe it off.” She recomposed herself briskly. “I still can’t. Perhaps now you have an idea why I don’t trust very easily, and why that’s for the best.” She stared down at her hands, turning them face up before reflexively rubbing them together; Forge read her mind in that moment.
She felt something moving over her hair, and the blanket of warmth enclosing her from behind. She startled briefly at the contact of his chest against her back.
“Don’t.”
“One minute. Give me one minute, now that you’re not so occupied, and I’ll go.”
“I hate you right now.” She still felt raw.
“Hate me later.” His hands rested in the curve of her narrow waist, absorbing her heat. She still held herself stiffly. “I’m good at fixing things, Ororo. Except for my own mistakes, and the people I hurt.” She felt the words, as well as heard them, murmuring along her temple, and she suppressed a shiver. “I want to fix this. Everything’s riding on it, and I work best under the gun.”
“One of the qualities that makes a good X-Man,” she huffed.
“I’m not much for costumes.”
“Uniforms. They’re called uniforms,” she pointed out, but her voice failed her when his arms stole around her and embraced her. His body telegraphed supplication and need as he breathed in her sweet scent, letting her hair stroke and tickle his cheek. To drive the point home, she gently grasped his wrist and removed it, releasing herself from his gentle grip. The goddess had her game face back on; the moment had vanished.
And so had any chance he’d have to mend things between them.
“I’ll keep tabs on the signals. We’ll weed out the right one.”
“You do that.”
“I’d like to try one more thing, if you’ll help me.”
“That’s asking a lot of the wrong person, Maker.” He cocked his eyebrow at the nickname but avoided the smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Not as much as you think. Take me into Cerebro again.” He knew it really was asking too much.
“All right.” She retrieved her tea cup and stalked out of the office, throwing “I will meet you downstairs” over her shoulder. He knew he was temporarily dismissed.
And Ororo was so caught up in her roiling emotions that she walked right past Logan, whose eyes were glued to her retreating back from the other end of the hall.
He’d heard everything. And he was floored.
Ya couldn’t live with yourself, Storm, if ya had this dark, ugly thing living inside ya, eating up yer soul. His own words echoed in his memory, pricking him. “Shit,” he muttered. The storm brewing outside was shaping up to be a doozy; the smell of ozone drifted inside through an open bay window and made the hairs on his arms stand on end. The first lacy streaks of lightning cut through the rolling clouds in the distance; he could feel it singing in his bones. And it had Ororo’s pain written all over it.
His only comfort was that she hadn’t allowed Forge back in, even though he was still craving the feel of his fist slamming into that fucker’s nose. He retreated, hearing Forge’s footsteps and deciding he was still tightly wound not to give into temptation.
~0~
Kitty and Jubes meant well, Lorna decided. But they didn’t have a clue.
She knew there was a secret drifting in the ether, stroking her with a whispering touch. She felt it in the way the bossy headmistress with the cool white hair looked at her, her and the scary guy with the haircut like a hedgehog.
“So that green’s your real color?” Kitty prodded, joining Lorna and Jubilee at the round lunch table. Lorna was dying to be alone with her own thoughts until Jubes showed up chattering a mile a minute, balancing an overloaded plate and a can of Pepsi.
“Yup.” She idly twirled a lock of it around her finger and poked at her food with little interest, in it or the conversation.
“Cool. My mom would never let me dye my hair, but I guess that’s fine now. I can kinda do what I want now, but I don’t think I want to anymore.”
“How’d you gain so much freedom?” Lorna inquired.
“My parents were killed before I came here. That’s how I ended up here,” she explained, punching open the tab of her soda. A rush of pity swept over Lorna, her indolent manner gone.
“Shit…I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Shutting up now.” She made zipping motions with her fingers over her mouth. Jubilee tossed her a funny little smile, peering up at her with hooded eyes.
“I’m used to it. Still sucks.”
“Makes me glad I have one parent who still loves me,” Kitty remarked before biting into her sandwich. “My folks are divorced. Dad’s not in the picture anymore. But my mom’s awesome.”
“My folks were kinda okay til I became a walking magnet. All of the sudden, it all became a matter of controlling me and telling me it was for my own good. I felt…weird. Like they were afraid of me.”
“Like they didn’t love you anymore?” Kitty’s face was wreathed in sympathy. “My parents were freaked out about it, but the Professor talked it over with them, which helped. He told them I was gifted. That’s how he talked them into letting me come here.”
“Gifted,” Lorna snorted. “Feels like a curse.”
“I dunno. I think it’s kinda fun.”
“That’s because your power IS fun,” Lorna reminded her. “I’ll take being a walking sparkler any day.”
“You can fly,” Kitty replied. “That’s gotta count for something. You, Ororo and Warren are so lucky.”
“I’m not good at it yet. Erik helps me with it. I don’t think I could manage it on my own.”
“Feels weird thinking of Magneto as helping anybody with anything.” Jubilee bit into a snickerdoodle and wiped crumbs of cinnamon and sugar from the corners of her mouth.
“It’s not weird. Don’t talk that way about him,” Lorna snapped. “He’s a little off, but he’s done more for me over the past few days than anyone else I know.”
“Don’t you have any friends that are worried about where you are now?” Kitty toyed with her yogurt, stirring it thoughtfully with her spoon.
“Just one. Well, two, if you count this one guy at school who kinda acts like he likes me. He’s okay.”
“What’s his name?” Jubilee nagged. Her face lit up with questions, and Lorna sighed.
“Doug. Little poser boy. Clean-cut. Almost too nice. Rich. Hits the books pretty hard,” she allowed.
“Is he cute?” Kitty grinned. Lorna’s lips twisted before she allowed herself to smile.
“Eh. Yeah. If you like that whole blond, blue-eyed floppy-haired thing. He got his braces off a couple of years ago, so his smile’s pretty nice. He’s just so…I dunno. Nice. To me, I mean. No one else treats me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Not like a freak.”
“Oh. Score one for Doug,” Jubes murmured. Lorna lightly shoved her.
“Ali’s the only one who really gets me. She gave me this.” She held up the St. Christopher medal, making Kitty and Jubes lean closer for a better look.
“Why’d she give it to you?”
“For protection. And because it was all she had to give. Can’t beat a friend like that.” She took a drink of her fruit juice. “No one else cares about me like that.”
~0~
Gyrich reviewed the radar display before him with anticipation.
“Looking good, sir.”
“Have they detected us yet?”
“Doesn’t look like it. Signal’s still strong. Nothing’s interrupted it since we released the first squad.”
“Good. Get the drop on them while they still think we’re laying low.”
“We’ve got a fix on Magneto and the girl. They’re right where we want them.”
“Where?”
“Westchester. Like bees in a hive. They’re at that school, sir.” Gyrich wasn’t as pleased as his technician hoped he would be when he heard the news.
“We’ve got to handle this with kid gloves. Relay it to the Prime flank that the school’s fair game, along with everyone in it, but don’t let anything happen to Cerebro. That’s our golden goose. Once we have it, we’ve got an end to our mutant problem.”
“Sir, we still haven’t heard from Forge.”
“I already know where he is.”
“Shouldn’t we contact him?”
“The school’s fair game,” he repeated crisply. His subordinate was glad he couldn’t see Gyrich’s eyes behind his customary pair of dark glasses. They would have chilled him.
~0~
Piotr was content to retreat into the den with his charcoals and a huge Strathmore drawing pad, staring outside from the picture window, roughing in a sketch of the treeline. His eyes skimmed over the front gate, which Lorna had grudgingly restored with her powers while Henry rewired the security cameras and reset the access codes. He sighed; that one would prove to be a handful.
The storm had raged for nearly an hour, with random stops and starts; whenever the clouds rolled back to reveal slivers of sunlight, they just as quickly reappeared and sent torrents of cold rain to soak the ground, making the grass slick. Piotr was thankful he would have to mow the lawn that day.
He almost didn’t believe his eyes as a strange flock of what looked like low-flying geese broke the pristine cloud cover, their dark bodies littering the sky. He didn’t hear them trumpeting, he mused. He looked back up from his pad with a strange prickle of unease.
It was the wrong season for geese. And they were growing larger, looming over the grounds.
Out of recent habit, he opened his thoughts in the hopes that one of the Stepfords would hear him as he chucked his sketch pad onto the settee and darted down the hall. Esme’s girlish voice greeted him cheerfully.
What’s going on, Pete? He felt a faint pang that it wasn’t Jean’s voice in his mind, but the quints were proving themselves useful in the wake of her passing.
“Contact Ms. Munroe,” he spoke aloud. “And gather the students into the Danger Room. And whatever you do, stay calm.” He knew it was a waste of breath. As soon as they heard the words “Danger Room,” he knew he’d be neck-deep in panicked kids, and keeping them all together would be like herding cats.
In a flash he was fully armored and charging down the hall. He rounded the corner and caught sight of Logan right before he could raise a bottle of Molson. He scowled at Piotr’s steel form and set it down, automatically extending his claws.
“What’s goin’ on, Tin Man?”
“Outside,” Piotr barked.” He needed no further urging, following him and feeling grateful that he had something to take his mind off the talk he’d overheard in Ororo’s study.
~0~
The school’s satellite feed had narrowed down the signals to six potential sources, but something about the wavelengths gave him a sense of déjà vu, as though he had viewed their frequency before. He couldn’t place it.
He went back to plan B, using Cerebro to scan for the Prime units, wondering if he could track them using the same search specifications that Ororo and Hank had before when she’d traced Logan downtown. Forge’s wrists were now buried in Cerebro’s console, searching for the nannite module he’d installed so recently.
Henry had told him something that rang a bell now that the dust had the chance to settle. The Prime units knew Logan, Kitty and Ororo’s capabilities and identities when they had attacked. The school’s security was buttoned up and airtight, he reasoned. Somehow, someone had gotten inside and informed whoever was sending the signal.
He found the interface to the module and moved to disconnect it while Cerebro was still powered down. Ororo was standing behind him on the catwalk, watching him vigilantly as he worked.
“Storm?” She relaxed slightly at the use of her codename. It helped.
“Yes?”
“You remember the signals that I was showing you? Remember how the wavelength looked?”
“Vaguely.”
“Check this out.” He slid out of the way to make room for her to peer inside. He pointed to the module and pressed a small button with the tip of a slender screwdriver, and Ororo watched what looked like tiny screen eject from it. She watched in awe as it rippled with an odd display of what looked like radio waves.
“What is that?”
“A self-diagnostic tool that lets me know if there are any malfunctions with the interface, or if the nannites aren’t communicating with Cerebro.”
“And it’s working, as far as we know. You managed to use it.”
“I know it’s working.” She wasn’t expecting him to disconnect it so abruptly. “Problem it, it’s working too well.”
“Excuse me?”
“The implants aren’t the only thing that Gyrich got his hands on. The wavelength we just saw matches the signal. Perfectly.” Blood drained from Ororo’s face as she backed away from him.
Before she could speak, Mindee Stepford’s telepathic distress call jolted her from her revelation.
There’s trouble outside, Ms. Munroe, Pete said to come get you! Her thoughts were laced with fear.
“Stay here,” she ordered him before she ran from the suite.
“Ororo, wait, don’t go-“
“I’m needed, just do what you have to, and disrupt that signal! I don’t care if you have to tear the whole unit apart! DO IT! NOW!” Before she departed, she palmed the security faceplate and locked the chamber from the outside.
“God help me,” Forge breathed before he went back to work, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Under the gun, he’d promised her.
~0~
“Where are we going?”
“Danger Room. That means business. Go!” Kitty shooed Lorna along after Jubilee, turning back toward the foyer, pursuing Colossus.
“Where are you going?” Lorna demanded.
“I’m needed outside.”
“Bullshit,” she hissed back. “I’m not just gonna be shoved downstairs in a room with everyone else, like sardines in a tin can!”
“I’m a senior student; I’m on the team roster now,” Kitty announced.
“Show-off,” Marie remarked before tugging Lorna along.” With that, Kitty was off.
“I need to see Erik!” Lorna dragged her feet, trying to fight Marie’s gloved grip.
“This ain’t the time, shoog, and he’s right where he needs t’be!”
“Trapped? I won’t let you do this!” she hissed. She fought Marie and broke free.
“Ya heard Kitty! And Miz Munroe said skedaddle downstairs!”
“Make me.” Marie’s breath was knocked out of her as Lorna repelled her with her magnetic shield. She landed with a loud thump against the wall, slumping unconscious to the floor. Lorna dismissed the guilt rising up into her chest as she ran to find Erik. She managed to scamper into the elevator as the rest of the students used the stairs the way they were trained to do during drills.
~0~
A claxon in the sub-basement rang out, and Henry’s blood ran cold.
“It’s happening,” he announced. Erik stared at him from the containment cell.
“You won’t leave me in here,” he informed him.
“The Prime units know you already, Erik. You may very well be better off down here.”
“You don’t believe that any better than I do.”
“I won’t take your word for it if you tell me you’re on our side, Erik, and you can’t blame me.”
“I had the chance to kill Charles when he came to see me while I was imprisoned. It wouldn’t have been difficult. You need me.”
“We may need to take our chances.” Henry looked up when he heard Lorna’s plaintive voice on the other side of the entrance to the chamber.
“Please let me in! I need to see Erik!” she cried.
“Lorna, GO! Go to the Danger Room like Ororo told you! It’s not safe here!” Reluctantly Henry opened the door, and she stared at the containment cell, revulsion plain on her face.
“Oh, my God, what have you DONE to him?”
“Erik isn’t the man you think you know,” Henry explained, trying to defuse her to no avail.
“You don’t know him,” she grated out. “He took care of me! You don’t UNDERSTAND! He’s all I have, and I won’t let you treat him like this!”
“Don’t get involved, you don’t know what he’s capable of, child, it’s for the best if he-“
“Don’t tell me what’s for the best. I’m tired as hell of hearing that. You’re no better than my parents.” She threw him back like a rag doll; Henry felt himself thrown back into the concrete wall before everything went black.
“How do I get you out?” She wrung her hands as she scanned the chamber.
“We still need our friend Dr. McCoy for that, child. His handprint is what activates the locks. If you can manage it, lift him up and press his palm against that plate.” She dutifully levitated Henry’s still form, straining with the effort. Like Logan, he wasn’t exactly light. She grasped his furry hand and mashed his palm against the plate. A green light flickered, and when the option on the screen came up with the option to unlock the cell, she selected it and hit ‘enter.’
The beams of energy dampening Erik’s powers diminished and vanished, and the thrumming sound stopped. His smile was benign but brief.
“What do we do with him?”
“Leave him. We’re needed upstairs.”
“Erik…”
“You won’t defy me,” he ordered harshly, and his hand encircled her arm, nearly bruising her, and his face was a stony mask.
“Erik…you’re hurting me!” she yelped.
“You’re needed. Leave him. You hated being in a cage,” he reminded her, his voice smooth as syrup. His grasp never softened, and she leaned her face away.
“I hated it,” she agreed.
“Then show the humans what you think about cages. They’d see you locked up or dead if they had their way. Even our hosts at this school would contain you if they thought you presented a threat. Learn from my example.”
Her lips trembled, but she finally nodded.
“Will you give me your loyalty?”
“Yes.”
“Then come with me.” He released her only to take her by the hand and lead her back up the stairs. He felt his powers growing once more with the contact, the energy coursing through him and nourishing him.
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