Mystique stalked silently through the shadows of the room, unnoticed by the occupants, listening to snatches of conversation. Sixty-seven mutants were gathered to hear her speak, but they were not just any mutants, they were the Cured. They were the ones Magneto had happily sacrificed to his cause without a second thought, those who had been struck down by the cure darts fired at them, those who had been left for dead. A harsh need for revenge festered in them, echoed in their barely controlled rage as mutations appeared and vanished, mutants reassuring themselves that their essence had not been lost. Mystique controlled her desire to let her blue skin flicker, aware that she too shared the insecurity that her mutation would once again vanish, and hating it. Stepping swiftly into the light in front of them, she took the form she had been left with after the dart.
‘We are here for one purpose,’ she stated quietly, venomously, her short dark hair shining in the dim light. ‘Vengeance.’ The word echoed through the sudden silence as sixty-eight pairs of eyes fixed on her. Mystique cast an amused glance at the upper floor balcony where Pyro watched sullenly and winked at him. ‘Each and every one of you was cast aside, abandoned to a fate that you didn’t choose!’ she hissed, prowling around in front of her audience. ‘He used your powers and then discarded you, let you be a shield for him then looked down in disgust at what you had become.’ She stopped suddenly as the blue ruffled its way up her body. ‘No more. We are the Cured. We have faced the cure and beaten it! And now we will show him just how strong we are!’ She bared her teeth in a fierce smile as the roars of approval shook the ceiling, not noticing Pyro slipping away.
* * * *
Marie felt a fierce satisfaction as her opponent crashed to the ground, insides ripped out. Flames licked hungrily around her as she crouched, craving more foes to pound into. When none appeared she vented her frustration by shredding the metal body of a nearby car, flinging the pieces of metal in deadly rains across the bleak landscape. Interrupted in her search for another metal structure, she growled as her surroundings flickered and disappeared, replaced with the cool, grey walls of the danger room and the figure of Logan sauntering towards her.
‘Did you just growl?’ he asked incredulously, the eyebrow almost disappearing into his hair.
‘No,’ Marie insisted defensively. When the eyebrow didn’t move she ground her teeth. ‘Alright, yes, Ah did.’ She glared at him as he snorted in amusement. ‘Ah’m glad you find it so amusing,’ she grumbled, marching towards the door.
‘So what’s with the scenario? Needed to shred things?’ Logan asked, following behind her and trying not to look at her backside encased in tight leather.
‘So what if Ah did?’ she demanded aggressively. Logan could almost hear the silent ‘bub’ and grabbed her arm.
‘Have you been letting me loose up there?’ he said softly, tapping her temple quickly. Marie closed her eyes and sighed, letting her whole body relax.
‘A little.’ She shrugged slightly, not meeting his eyes. ‘You keep Eric quieter, so it seemed like a good idea. Ah don’t mind the need to fight, but it’s the cravings for the cigars that Ah draw the line at.’ She gave him a quick smile and hurried out of the room, leaving Logan frowning after her.
* * * *
Charles Xavier stood at the window of his study and gazed over the mansion’s grounds, his eyes filled with tears; tears of joy for the fact that he could now stand, tears of sorrow for the loss of Scott and Jean, and tears of hopelessness for the broken man sat behind him. Taking several deep breaths and blinking rapidly, he turned and took his seat once again.
His return had shaken Eric to the core of his existence, shattering the iron control he had held about himself for so many years and casting doubt on everything he believed. He had begged Charles for forgiveness, but that was something Charles could not give him. He could forgive Eric for his beliefs for they had been ingrained in him through a life of terror and subjugation, but to his surprise Charles found himself unwilling to forgive Eric for his actions. Charles studied the other man as he sat slumped in front of the desk, his face swollen with bitterly shed tears, hands shaking slightly in his lap.
‘I am sorry, Eric,’ Charles said softly. ‘I cannot absolve you from your guilt. Only you can do that.’
Eric gave a huff of despairing laughter and raised watery eyes to look upon the renewed form of his oldest friend. ‘That guilt did not appear until you did, Charles. Are you sure that it’s mine?’ Hearing the accusation in his tone, Charles sighed again.
‘Eric, I have not-‘ Charles broke off and closed his eyes.
‘What is it?’ Eric asked, leaning forwards, a spark of interest in his tired eyes.
‘A commotion. Someone is here to see you.’ Charles rose and marched out of the door, Eric following slowly. As they reached the hall they heard the sound of raised voices. Turning the corner, Charles saw his junior X-men attempting to keep two figures separated. *Enough*. Everyone froze as the telepathic command reached them, Jubilee giving a small squeak of fright and moving closer to Pete, revealing the cause of the commotion. Pyro stood scowling behind them, blood running from his nose and flames dying in his hands. Pete released his grip on Bobby, who was nursing sore knuckles and looking savagely triumphant.
‘What’s going on?’ Charles asked calmly. As a cacophony of voices immediately began to explain, he gestured for silence again. ‘I see you have returned, John,’ he said pleasantly, watching Pyro carefully.
‘Who’re you s’posed to be?’ Pyro demanded, sneering at the use of his real name.
*Don’t you recognise me, John?* Charles asked, watching Pyro’s face whiten as the voice rang in his head.
‘You can’t be,’ he mumbled. ‘He died!’
‘Yes, my body did die, but I did not. Now, what can we do for you?’ Once again, Charles’ tone was calm and non-threatening.
‘I came for him,’ Pyro said, pointing at Eric, who raised his eyebrows.
‘And why would you do that, Pyro? You know I have been cured. What possible interest could you have in me now?’ Eric smirked to himself at the annoyed glance Charles sent him.
‘I know the cure doesn’t work. You’ll have regained your powers by now.’ Pyro stared at Eric defiantly.
‘Loyalty, Pyro? From you?’ Eric tone changed from sly to sarcasm, and he watched Pyro stifle his angry retort with dark humour.
‘Did you hear about the prison riot the other day?’ Pyro asked casually. ‘They still haven’t been able to do a proper body count; still looking for the parts.’ He smirked as the junior X-men around him grimaced. ‘Thought you might like to know that it was an old friend of yours. She’ll be coming to see you. And she’s not alone.’
‘Mystique?’ Eric whispered, his face betraying his fear.
* * * *
What’s with the summons?’ Logan demanded, stomping through the door and stopping in shock, causing Marie to crash into him from behind. Shoving him out the way she gazed around the room, her lip curling in disgust as she saw Pyro, her face going curiously blank as she noticed Eric in the corner.
‘What’s that little prick doing here?’ Logan asked, pointing at Pyro.
‘It’s nice to see you too, Wolverine,’ Pryo shot back. Logan snorted and dropped into his chair.
‘I can see you’ve really grown up. Why is he here? For that matter, why’s Buckethead still here?’ Logan jerked his head at Eric, who ignored him.
‘Logan, we have some important things to discuss. Please listen.’ The Professor walked forward and placed his hands on the table, casting an exasperated glance at Jubilee. ‘Jubilee, please stop thinking that. You will eventually have to get used to it.’ Jubilee flushed a bright shade of red as the younger X-men all sniggered.
‘She can’t get used to the Professor walking. She says it’s creepy,’ Marie whispered to Logan, seeing his frown. He snorted and shook his head.
‘Look, I’ve done what I came here to do, so I’m going to leave you all in your little briefing. Have fun.’ Pyro stood and stomped towards the door, stopping as Bobby stood up in front of him. ‘Get out of my way.’
‘No,’ Bobby said, his fists icing over. Pyro lunged at him, fireballs erupting in his fists, only to be caught in mid-air by Logan, claws sliding out of his fists and grazing Pyro’s cheek. He froze, staring at the shining blades centimetres from his eyes.
‘You’d better sit down and shut the fuck up,’ Logan growled through gritted teeth, carefully inching the claws further out. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’
‘Thank you, Logan. You can put him down now.’ Charles summoned a weary smile and sat as Logan reluctantly shoved Pyro back to his seat.
‘John has come to us at risk to himself to warn us of a threat we now face, from mutants who call themselves The Cured. They are led by Mystique, who unfortunately was the cause of the prison deaths. They are out for revenge on Eric,’ Charles said seriously, not looking at the man at his side.
‘So chuck him out and we get rid of our problem,’ Logan snarled.
‘Logan, as you well know, it has never been our policy to turn away mutants in need,’ Charles said, sounding exasperated.
‘He’s not in need; it’s his own fucking fault!’ Logan stood and pointing across the table, his knuckles showing white. ‘If he hadn’t treated them like worthless shit then they wouldn’t have a reason to go after him!’
‘Logan –‘ the Professor began
‘He’s right, Professor,’ Marie butted it. ‘Why should we help him?’ She raised her chin in the sudden silence and stared defiantly at Eric, who smirked at her.
‘After all the memories we share, my dear,’ he murmured, tapping a finger to his temple, the smirk dropping from his face as his head was jerked forward by his chair shooting backwards, crashing into the wall.
‘Don’t you dare talk to me about memories,’ Marie hissed at him as his chair rose off the floor.
‘Rogue, think about what you are doing,’ Charles said cautiously, his eyes on the floating chair.
‘Oh, Ah am, Professor, don’t you worry!’ Marie’s eyes blazed with all the emotion she’d been suppressing. ‘Ah will not let you ruin more people’s lives!’ She gestured and the chair rose higher as small strips of metal peeled off the wall and wrapped themselves around Eric’s hands and feet. Another piece slowly closed around his throat and tightened. Eric’s eyes found Charles’, and he smiled. *The answer to my quandary, Charles?* he thought.
‘Logan, stop her!’ Charles cried. Logan carefully moved behind Marie and took her shoulders, close enough that she could feel the tremors that ran through his skeleton.
‘Marie, baby, let him go. You shouldn’t do this, not this way,’ he whispered in her ear. He held on tighter as she started to tremble, breathing a sigh of relief as Eric crashed to the floor, the metal slivers dropping away. Logan turned Marie to face him and hugged her tightly as the shivers increased. Just as she was beginning to calm, the door slammed open and Storm came running in.
‘We’re under attack!’
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000