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Chaos Reigns on the First Night As the demon engulfs And the watchful become blind Night will be as day Day will last forever Until the demon consumes many And the animals are tamed May the soul reign forever And may the pain engulf all As all becomes equal And the demon reigns free
There was a soft, gentle whir, a slight jolt, and then the elevator started. Fred kept silent, eyes crossing from taller Gunn to even taller Scott, both of whom stood side by side, watching as the numbers ticked down, slowly. Odd. It was as if they were meeting to go to a business meeting, not caught up in trying to stop the end of the world. Again. Again and again and again. Fred bit her lip, resting her body on the back wall of the moving cube, feeling her heart pound, knowing Gunn could see her very acute fear as he turned and offered her quick, meaningful smile. Funny. Fred thought they should have been used to it by now. They should have been brought to a numb understanding that each time they embarked on this particular type of mission they had no idea if they could come out alive. They had played Russian Roulette with this too many times. But even now, on another countless escapade to save the world, there was still fear, the will to live, the desire to come out of this alive. A feeling of vividness came with the victory, and Fred supposed, that if one day the numbness really did come, then there would be no point to fighting at all. Because the feeling, the true blast of what it was inside of them that made them NEED this pathetic existence, this complete will to live, would be dead. So she swallowed down the knot of fear, and stood her ground, her hand clenched tightly on her bow and arrow as the elevator jerked, as Scott cursed and Jean looked up, and Gunn reached for her free hand and held tightly. When the doors slid open, almost of their own violation, and they were met with ten adversaries, she never blinked. The fear was natural. The fear was good. The fear made all the difference.
It was dark. The fluorescent lights were flickering on and off, providing barely any fodder to see, and Storm crept carefully, as Wesley counted steps. "Ten," he whispered finally. He paused, fumbled forward, along the wall, with his hand, until he found the knob, turning with a silent prayer. His eyes met Storm's in silent relief, and after a short breath, they both peered into the darkened staircase, waiting as Ororo switched on the flashlight, the orb blinking on, one bright flash of light in utter darkness. "Down, to the twentieth floor," she whispered back, and he nodded, taking the rear as they began to walk down the stairs hesitating. Glancing at his watch, he pressed a button, illuminating it. Less than an hour left.
"DAMMIT!" Charles ignored the expletive that came from the Cajun, watching the television with the group of children, all tense and quiet. "The governor of California has officially called a state of emergency, and ordered that all mutants be quarantined until further noticed. Similar announcements are expected to be made in New York, Nevada and Kansas. Spain has sent out it's troops and the Prime Minister of London has ordered all mutants out on the streets to be arrested at first notice." He closed his eyes, breathing in, breathing out. At first glance, he and the furious Remy LeBeau who was pacing behind him looked completely different, but Jubilation Lee knew they were both experiencing very similar feelings. She swallowed down the nausea that came with the announcements, her mouth never moving, eyes guarded behind the dark glasses as she watched the reaction of the mutant children around them. "They won't do that here, will they professor?" one of them asked, turning to Charles Xavier. Charles waited a moment, turned and found the child looking at him with wide-eyed panicked innocence, and Jubilee held her breath as she watched the exchange, knowing that any word here would be critical to the peace of mind. She also knew that Charles did not promise things he could not give. "Damn you, Erik," she heard whispered under his breath, and he turned, wheeling out of the room, leaving the children. Remy's hands folded into fists as she glanced at Kitty, before moving around the older team members, settling down and wrapping the child in her arms. "How's about we watch something more fun" she suggested, her voice calm and chipper. "Somethin' like... George of the Jungle?" Kitty immediately nodded, and grabbed the DVD off the shelf. When no one was watching, the smile slid off of Jubilee's face and she took a shuddering breath. She was scared shitless.
She had been scared when she had seen him. She had no idea how much power he had over her until she saw the machine. Tall, dark, foreboding, it filled the room, and it terrified her completely. The tears came to her eyes, and she was shaking so terribly, backing away, always backing away. "Please," she whispered. "Please, no." Magneto had no mercy in his face, but there was grim regret. He flicked a finger as a metal cuff flew through the air and attached itself to her hand, making her wince, jerking her forward, toward him. "There is no other option, young Rogue," he answered. The finger flicked back, and she struggled against it, with all her strength. The metal force was too strong for her body, and coupled with the fear that close to paralyzed her, she had no choice but to move forward. "It is the future." "It's not mine," she whispered, voice almost frantic. "Not mine." "My child," he said, cocking his head as he waved his hand over the large room with the balcony overlooking the streets of downtown. "You have no future."
Okay, I know you're hurt. I know your head is ready to splinter. I know you're scared. But Dammit, Cordy pull yourself together. Psycho vampire Bitch wants to kill you and eat you, and most likely not in that order - what do you do?" A quirk of a smile slipped across her face. What do you do? Ohhhhhh Keanu what the hell I wouldn't give for you right now. Crap - what a day to have a headache. Fear surged through her, and it made her gasp for breath in an effort to retain her sanity. Loudly. She froze, holding it in, when she heard the vampire stop, giggle, and come closer. It was a dead end, she had no idea where she was going, and she was stuck. Sitting duck. Crap. Desperation turned to concentration, as Cordelia moved her palm along the stucco'd walls, pausing when her fingers fumbled over something hard and knobby. A switch. A light switch? "Cordelia? Pretty sister, come and play." Okay... She took a deep breath, sucking it in and closing her eyes, and finally she opened them again, bright aware and pissed off. Okay, you can get out of this. Think, Dammit. She was running out of time, less than an hour to go, and she had no idea what to do to stop it. She was so tired of this. So tired of running and hiding and waiting and fearing. She was tired of every day of living in fear of what she couldn't control and it was so over her head that nothing she did mattered. It didn't matter anymore. Her bit her lip, gritted her teeth as she kept her injured arm close to her body, and finally took in a breath. Fine. If I'm gonna die, I'm gonna do it on my damned feet. She flicked on the light, bathing the room with it's illuminance. "FINE, dammit. Come on, Dru! I'm here you psycho bitch." The vampire was less than five feet away, and Cordelia watched with barely contained impatience as she paused, and then bounced, clapping her hands delightfully. "You'll play?" "Not for long, Drusilla." Gritting her teeth, she pushed with her legs, using her back to get herself to the feet, all the time keeping her eyes on the crazy vision wracked vampire. "Mmmm... I smelled the blood. Seer's blood. Rare and yummy." "Yeah. I'm a regular gourmet," she answered, watching every move carefully, heart pounding so loudly she wondered why she didn't just up and have a heart attack right then and there. "First Night brings chaos. The Seer can feel it, the Seer can taste it - she is my sister. But there is fear? Why is there fear, sister?" "Oh Gee, I don't know. The fact that you're a vampire and I'm food?" "It's like a poem." "You know listening to you ramble on is worse than watching Batman and Robin," Cordelia said, as Drusilla circled her slowly, almost relieved - and a BIG almost at that- when Drusilla grabbed her and pulled her in tight against her body. "And I'm guessing you haven't killed me yet for a reason?" she whispered breathless, as Drusilla sniffed her, purring. "Like a cat." "Oh ewwwww..." Cordelia shuddered, and struggled as Drusilla's tongue slid out, licking at her skin where a cut had left a few red drops. A whisper, breathless in her ear, but still sending jolts of disgusted shivers through her body, "Seer's blood is precious. We must wait with the Seer, until it's over. We might need her." "Who's we?" A shriek came from Cordelia's muffled mouth, when another body pressed against her back, and a dark rasp came, in a tone that clearly belonged to Buffy, "Welcome back, bitch." A splinter of pain in her head, and the world went dark.
Scott ducked, hand lifting to his visor and flicking. The red shot was close, too close, and Fred jumped away, feeling the searing heat as it passed her. There was no chance to thank him for taking out the mutant she was grappling with before a vampire distracted her by turning on Jean. She lifted up her bow, shouting a warning to Jean and let if fly. Immediately Jean turned, taking only a second to process the scene and the hand was out, manipulating the arrow to slice directly into the vampire's heart. There was a second of disbelief on the creature's face, before it exploded, making Fred cough, wheezing. Covering her nose with her hand, she brushed it off with the other, thankful for the interlude. Noise and crashes made her head swivel and she ran to the balcony, hands on the railings as she craned her head up. Lights and bolts and cries from two floors up. The beams of light were sweeping out of the windows, over the city, like some sort of bat radar. "We gotta go!" she shouted, ducking back in. They were SERIOUSLY running out of time.
He crashed through the glass pain, landing outside of the building, feeling the slivers of glass embed themselves into his skin. It was painful. Damn painful. He growled, claws flailing out to jam into the cracks of the building, jerking him like a gutted fish, as Sabretooth came closer. FUCK. He gritted his teeth against the pain, swinging, arching his feet, feeling the metal twist, all the way down to his spine in painful creaks. Using all the force he could, he took the momentum, slamming booted feet into Victor Creed's chest, making him reel back. "Bastard," he growled, swinging back inside like a pendulum, landing on Victor's chest, the claws now at the beast man's throat. "Give me back those damn tags." A low sound of pure evil existed in the laughter that followed, and Logan rolled his eyes, his own growl bubbling up in his throat. This guy was pure animal, no morals or ethics - pure instinct. Not that Logan didn't appreciate those traits - but there were factors that made him human. It was what set him apart from Victor Creed. It was what made him smarter. It was what was gonna make him win. That and the pure rage, the unfiltered anger, to put away this bastard once and for all. He barely batted an eyelash when Creed bucked him off and got a claw in his side. He grunted in pain, knowing it would hurt like hell for about two seconds, but all Victor got in return was a growl and a swipe. Logan rolled under and away from the swinging arm, crouching, watching and waiting, eyes narrowed, as Creed growled yet again and purred and damn near had an orgasm as he waited. When Creed attacked, he was ready. He didn't charge or use his claws or growl or spit. Logan stood, like a man, and when the beast attacked he sidestepped him, fingers brushing the large chest as he passed, grabbing the tags, and then a roll and a push and the momentum was used against the Big Cat Man, as he stumbled and went through the window. Logan put his hands to his face, barring the shards from getting into his eyes. Only when Victor Creed hit the ground some hundred feet down did he allow the animalistic snort to come out of him, before dismissing him and turning to the metal door. Cocking his head, he regarded it, feeling his heart thump, the panic surging through him once more that pushed every ounce of reason from his body. Marie was in there. Alone. With Magneto. And the Machine that had once branded her with those streaks that defined her even now. He had to get in there. And there was only one way to do it. It was going to fucking hurt. Steeling himself, he took a breath and then yelled, surging forward. The adamantium slid from his knuckles, into the metal of hte door, and he wrenched his hand down. It fucking hurt, making himself a human can opener, and he felt the flood of agony on his hands and a yell came from his lips, but he did it again, and again, and when it was enough he pushed forward, and the splintered door gave way, landing him into a heap on the ground. There was no chance to move, to regain his sense of orientation, because he tried and was frozen solid, an unseen force keeping his bones pinned, the metal inching upwards. "Logan. Welcome." And he tried to move, but a hand flicked in his face and the metal in his ribs moved, and things in his body were giving way, bones bending and moving and SHIT. He heard Rogue's gasp, and she cried out, but his eyes were wide open, as the torture continued and Magneto continued to smile. Even as Logan began to pass out.
"Stop." Ororo paused, and Wesley motioned quickly with his hand. "Come here, shine the light, here." She obeyed, and he leaned forward, lips moving as he read the marks on the wall of the room they had entered. "This is full of magic," he whispered. Ororo swallowed, nodded. "I can feel it. Which is why I would prefer not to be here." He didn't listen, coming closer. "Shine the light there, please." She did so, and he began to read. "Bloody hell," he said after a minute. "What?" she leaned forward, squinting. "Oh." "The Machine isn't just triggered to mutate humans... it's triggered -the spell here - Angelus will reign." His hands pressed against the wall with the writings, and his eyes widened, hitching his breath. "What? What's wrong?" A low, angered curse came out of the worn Englishman. "Angelus will reign free," he began heavily, tone almost sound as if he were being tortured. "It will release the demon and he will lead the chaos." Storm was gentle, as she lay a tentative hand on his shoulder. "We will stop it." "That's just it. The only way to stop it is to kill Angelus." Their eyes met as he continued. "We must kill Angel. That will end the First Night. It's the only way."
She had been treated as the bravest of the X-Men. Remy had once accused her of having a deathwish, the way she plunged into situations with no fear, no caution or regard. She was never known for being a coward, and yet here she was, frozen in place, voices inside telling her MOVE, to do something about it, but Rogue, who was born on the day she had been strapped in that machine, had been filled with memories of hate and violence and fear -could NOT MOVE. It was a nightmare, a living nightmare that had played in her thoughts ever since she was seventeen, watching as her strong, fearless protector was toyed with, tortured by an old man with old thoughts and an even older agenda. And he was killing him. He was fucking killing him. "STOP." It was barely a whisper, her hands clenched as she watched, tears making her vision blurry. She was shaking, badly. Her would be lover was jerking on the floor. The face was strained with an agonized expression. She could see the bones moving underneath his skin, and she had to shut her eyes against the vision, only to open them a second later, unable to take not knowing. Logan gave a choked cough, lurching forward, blood spitting from his lips, but he refused to say a word, as he glared at Magneto in open hate. And then his eyes flickered to her, met and held for one long second and the world slid out from under her. "Stop," she whispered again, barely giving the word breath, repeating it, "Stop." Magneto stood, his back to her, and the machine was there, and she was scared, she was so scared and oddly enough, that was just enough to get Marie pissed. The voices were clamoring inside of her head, shouting and moaning and Rogue just let them shout, but it was the whisper that slid into her veins from the original part of her mind - the part that made her love, the part that made her hope- that finally got control. Not the Logan inside of her, or Carol or Magneto, or any of the other personalities that rested in her brain and memories. It wasn't Rogue who was pissed beyond all recognition - but the little Marie, the young girl who had cried in her protector's arm. And she was pissed at Rogue. Her body shook as her fingers clenched, the words exploding behind her eyes. What the FUCK are you doing? You gonna let your lover die? Magneto is NOTHING. Show him what the hell you're made of! He's NOT YOU. YOU'RE NOT that scared little GIRL. USE HIM. Use him. Her eyes opened, her heart hammering, and with the words, the fear ebbed away, only to be replaced with blinding rage. FUCK Magneto. FUCK him. Before him she had been Marie. Before him she had BELIEVED. Before him she had HOPED. Rogue swallowed, trembling, and suddenly Marie slapped her, the whip snapping on the inside, and Rogue's eyes glinted, and with a burst she flew forward, swinging her hand back and knocking the metal man to the side. It was so sudden, so unexpected, that he did nothing, landing with a jolt, taking by complete surprise, eyes moving and locking with hers. But it was Rogue who stood before him, battled toughened, and hard, always there to guard a soft heart. The brown eyes that sometimes went green on Carol's days were green now, as she borrowed Carol's rage, with Carol's open approval, and he saw it, heard it, when she whispered in an even deadly tone, "You wanna see mutants, brother? Then take a damn good look. I want ya to meet someone you helped create, Erik. Take a good fucking look at Rogue." To his credit, he tried to fight back. The old man was smug in his powers, but the touch had reawakened something in her, long buried memories and powers that Magneto himself had planted, and the bracelet that had held her prisoner was swung off, tossed to the side. A flick of her finger as a chair came forward, knocking him in the back and sprawling him forward. She skipped down from the railing, watching as his face filled with confusion and enough fear to make her smile. "You came me a damn good brain fuck, Eric," she whispered. "Took me years to finally stop shocking people. I was a literal magnet for months. You think your penchant for metal left? Not when those fucking memories came right back?" And her hand moved and the chair shook, and Eric shook his head, tried to move it, but she overpowered him as she continued to advance, a young girl of twenty three keeping the much older mutant in his place by using his own power against him. When she reached him, he was trembling, and Rogue relished it, reaching for his throat and hoisting him high in the air. "Guess what Eric? You created a monster." He struggled, gurgling slightly, and she would have squeezed, as the rage came to her in pure form, hate pouring from her, the killers nestled inside of her body rejoicing, whispering in her ears to snap it, to finish it- But Marie wouldn't allow it. And Marie was still in charge. Rogue took a breath, reluctantly letting him go, watching him fall in a pile on the floor. "You're not the only one who doesn't forget," she whispered, looking down at him as he coughed. With a disgusted snort that must have come from Logan's contribution to her split personality, she backed away, left him to his own devices. "Logan," she whispered, as the mutant groaned. The body was still twisted, and she could hear the snaps, the painful process of healing taking effect, but it wasn't fast enough to suit her. She bit her lip, sliding a hand under him, helping him up, wincing as he hissed in, inhaling sharply. "Remind me not to get you pissed at me," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Come on, sugar. Let's get the hell outta here."
It was over before it had even begun. Eric had never felt true fear, true regret, until the young child had looked on him with furiously old eyes. His throat was sore, he knew there would be bruises. Spots were rampant in his vision, and blood was bitter on his tongue. There was no reason to move, and he was exhausted, too stunned to move, alone in the room that should have been a culmination of his destiny. A palm fisted up and he slammed it against the floor in frustration, the ache settling in his heart and his mind as he took the time to process what had just happened. The fear, the rage, the anger at the deadly mutant that fought for GOOD - was aimed at him. He had created her. The agony and trauma borne into her - had been his. And she hated him. And knowing the remnants that lived within her, that led to only one inevitable conclusion. He hated himself. The door on the other side flung open, when Darla walked in and Drusilla came in after, and young Mystique carried a body that looked suspiciously like the Seer's. Boots clipped on the floor, slowly, firmly, one after the other, until they were in his direct line of vision. "Pathetic," he heard whispered. "Where the hell is she?" Darla's voice was angry, dark, full of venom, as the Seer was dumped on the ground and stepped over. He inhaled, gathering his strength, pushing up and purposely putting a mask of indifference on his frail face. He stood, wiping the blood from his mouth, gathering his composure. "Where do you think? Gone." "Gone." Darla's eyes bore into his, and to his credit, Magneto stood his ground. "That's correct." There was a tick in the blonde's jaw, as she said with a hiss attached to the deadly tone, "You realize that we have exactly forty minutes left in which they can actually DO something about this?" He raised an eyebrow. "You are losing my patience, Darla." "You lost mine a long time ago, old man." With reflexes so quick he could only jolt, her hand lurched forward, grabbing his in a tight, deadly grip. "Looks like you'll have to power this little contraption on your own." Everything went deadly still, silent in Erik's head, and all the delusion and lies gave way to simple clarity. He had been a fool. "Come now, Metal Man," Drusilla said, grabbing him, dragging a long fingernail down his forearm, making him bleed. "It's a means to an end, Erik," Mystique said, smiling, and his eyes widened at the look of calm assurance on his former lover's face. "Mystique?" "Your time is past, old man," Darla said flippantly, dragging him in his weakened step, closer and closer to the machine that would mean death. "You gave us what we wanted. For that we are thankful." "NO." He began to struggle, but so weakened he was reduced to flailing and Drusilla laughed, a tinny metallic sound. "Never make a deal with a devil," she kissed his cheek, sliding her tongue up to his ear. "You always get burned." His heart was pounding furiously, and he looked beseechingly to Mystique, his mentee, his lover, his child, as both vampires strapped him to the machine. "You will allow this?" She was quiet, and she leaned forward, eyes on his. "A means to an end Erik. This will be for the good of mutants everywhere. Do not worry. I shall lead. You have taught me well." The metal snapped and he tried to snap it off, knowing it would have been effortless if he hadn't been in pain, weakened by touching Rogue, by the fight, the pain. By age. He closed his eyes and this time the metal seemed to heed, but Mystique's foot snapping across his face ended any resistance at all, as he fell back, unconscious.
She held him steady as they walked at a quick pace, and when she deemed them far enough away from the dreaded room, she let him rest, sliding down the wall, legs sprawled out. Immediately she nestled between them, flipping one white streak back as the tenderness that was almost alien took over, brown eyes moving over his body, making sure he was intact. "Logan, Logan honey, come on. Let's heal up." A deep breath that made the great chest heave was what she got in answer, as his body trembled and something else snapped into place, making him shudder. She let him breath, fingers rubbing at his, until his eyes opened, and his mind was foggy, but alert, vivid in the dark brown feral eyes. The look he gave her tugged at her heart, as an involuntary smile graced her features. He closed his eyes as his hands gripped hers almost painfully, and she held on as he continued to breath through the agonizing rehealing process of his mutation. Pain was always a factor in his life, so much that he had come to disregard it as something common. She had never taken his pain for granted, even when it seemed everyone else had. Every time the claws slid out she winced, the inner Logan jumping in time with Marie as her own fingers drifted to her knuckles, recalling the pain as the knives sliced through the skin - over and over and over. The same sharp agony that never diminished sliding through her in the form of alien memories. An aching heart and a still dominant Marie made every emotion run rampant, and at that moment, there was none more apparent than the love she had always carried for this gruff, sensitive, haunting man. He had no past, but he had still managed to give her a future. Her palms slid across his cheeks desperately, touching him the only way she knew how. "Rogue," he began thickly, shaking his head like a wet dog, trying to fling away the confusion and disorientation. "FUCK. That hurts." "Well what the hell were ya doin' going in there all Ramboish and shit? You can't do a THING against that man! You're MADE OF METAL, Logan." It was an automatic snap that was pure Rogue, and it felt good to say it, as if this was the old Logan and the Old Rogue, who could talk without having that uncomfortablenss of pretense between them, of knowing that they both wanted more - and could never have it. His eyes narrowed in response, as he lifted a hand, covering her palms with his own as he squeezed. "I wasn't exactly thinking, Marie. I rarely do when it comes to you." The last part was edged out in a grumble, and she smiled against her will. "You and me both, sugar." Pounding and shouts made their heads swivel in reaction, both immediately reacting to the cries of their teammates. "LOGAN!" "UP HERE!" For one moment, just one, they were completely alone. She turned back to him, and his intense, focused gaze caught her, seared into her. She could hear him breathing, could feel it's soft tufts on the open collar of her leather uniform, warming it, sending spirals of heat throughout her body, making her muscles clench. His hands continued to stroke hers. She was gasping openly for breath now, she knew he could see it, smell it, as his gaze drifted down to the obvious site of her chest heaving up and down. It was that exact look that got her into so much damn trouble before. She swallowed, suddenly unsure, as his hands continued to stroke her gloves, and everything inside of her stopped completely, like a coiled spring, when his head turned, and so reverantly her hands might have been made of china, his lips pressed into the gloves. There was no skin contact, but the way he kept his lips on the leather, the way his tongue flicked out and traced the spot gently, sent such a jolt through her that she didn't care. For the first time in her life, she didn't care. It was an interesting revelation, to say the least. "Logan." The voice came out rough and desperate and different than she had ever said it, edged in need, and her heart really WAS beating so quickly, and she really was forgetting to breathe, and oh God, Logan - "I love you." The words were gentle, soft, gruff, and they came from his lips, almost muffled because his mouth was still buried in her glove, and it made her whimper, tremble and everything inside of her was alive as he looked at her, and their gazes held. His stare burned her, deep down inside, filling her with warmth and emotion that shook her so much it scared her. Rogue licked her lips again, her throat so dry, but as her mouth opened to respond she heard a familiar click, a whir, and her attention was jerked to the hallway that led to the room they had just come from. The thoughts came a mile a minute, and she froze, processing them all. The machine. Someone started the machine. Someone started the machine and no one on earth could power that machine but her and Magneto - which meant- Magneto was on the damn machine - powering the machine. Her eyes closed as the flashback jolted through her, Cordelia's voice ringing clear through her head. "We have to HELP Magneto." Her eyes opened and everything clicked into place. "Awww, shit." She jerked out of Logan's grasp and ran back in the direction that she came, ignoring the calls of the X-Men who had made their way to Logan's side, sprinting back to the hallway, as she heard the Machine's whir, growing louder and faster.
He was drowning, and any grasp was impossible to get a hold of. Two viable options, two ways to be set free. With one came sanity, with the other came death. The voices were searing into his head, and Angel groaned, as the battle waged inside of him became more rampant, less defined. The edges were beginning to blur, and he swallowed, stumbling into the room, falling on the ground. In the background, he heard a distinct whir, but he couldn't care, not when the claws of the demon shifted inside of him, clawing at the edges. It was painful, it was so painful. He wasn't going to let HIM win - he wasn't going to let him win- Soft hands, hands that felt familiar but with a scent that was... off somehow... gently cradled him. Angel shuddered, reaching out blindly in relief, feeling his soul jolt, grabbing a hold of his Seer, pulling her in close, aching desperately for his humanizing imfluence. She would be his bouy, she was always his anchor. "Cordy." "Shh, Angel." Lips pressed against his temple and he sobbed at the pain, clinging, too afraid to let go. "Don't let me go, Cordy," he begged. "Don't let me go. I can't be him again." "Angel, you're stronger than this. You can't fight him until you become him. I'll be here. I'll watch. I'll take care of you." He froze, bewilderment at the words, and finally he shook his head blindly. "I can't." "The Machine will help you, Angel," came Cordelia's soothing voice. "It'll set the line, it will define it. Please Angel." "I won't let him." "Angel..." The soft hands stroked him, and his eyes opened, looking beseechingly into Cordelia's yellow eyes. It crossed his feverish mind to wonder why Cordelia had yellow eyes, but it was pushed away when the Seer leaned forward, kissing him gently. He smiled, a blissful smile of relief. And that was when the blue wave of the machine hit him.
She thanked God yet again for her gift of strength as she barreled into the door, already mangled thanks to Logan the human can opener, faltering when her wide eyes processed the scene laid so neatly before her. Cordelia in an unconscious heap on the floor, already engulfed in the slow blue wave. Magneto, crying out, unable to stop the Machine, completely powerless, for all his magnetic strength. Two other women she didn't recognize, one a pale dark beauty, another a blonde, with a domineering prescense that gave her the immediate association with 'leader'. And on their right, standing - was... Cordelia. Rogue's eyes flickered from the still Cordelia to the Cordelia with the yellow eyes, and she sucked in her breath. "Bitch." Mystique blinked, cocking her head. "Now that's not exactly complimentary, is it Rogue?" "So this is Rogue?" The blonde one mused openly, finger on her chin. "What fun. We've heard so much about you. You are an interesting character. All those creatures in your head, must get slightly confusing?" The dark haired one giggled, as the blue wave continued to seep, touching their feet. And they didn't feel a thing. Hmm. Not human. "There is darkness with this one. She is a killer." Okay. Certifiably insane to boot. Great. "Get the hell outta here and I might not kill ya." Apparently that was incredibly funny, although Rogue didn't see the humor. The blonde laughed, throwing her head back in the process, and the haughty smile that came from Cordelia/Mystique might have pissed Rogue off, had she not suddenly had her hand yanked behind her, wrenching it up, painfully, pulled back against a hard body she knew only too well. "What fun would that be?" came the whisper. "When we're already dead?" It was the same voice, the same tone, but Rogue knew it wasn't the same man. It wasn't a man at all. She swallowed, counted to ten in an attempt to still her beating heart. "Angelus." "Hello, baby. Welcome to my party. You're a guest of honor."
The strength was coming back fast, and Logan kept up easily, every step becoming more assured, as the anger and worry and fear coursed through him, giving him more speed. There was no time to think, no time to remember the humans, as they paused at the door, unsure of what to do, or say. Logan could only watch, processing. The whirring was loud, biting into his ears and making the oversensitized ear drum beat loudly. Scott winced, and he grabbed onto Jean's hand, pulling her in back of him. Feral eyes narrowed, when suddenly Rogue screamed out in pain and he had had enough. Behind him, he heard Scott mentioning the humans, but there was no time to care, as he dove forward. Rogue kicked up, a booted foot snapping into Angel's face, making him lose his grip as the fangs grazed her neck. "Logan NO!" He didn't care, the claws were out as he stepped into the blue wave. "FUCK Logan!" He came forward, as Angel glared and smiled and greeted, "Animal boy! Come to play?" He growled, but a figure stopped him, making him hesitate. "What's the matter lover?" Cordelia whispered to him. He blinked, and he sniffed and there was a low growl. She winked and a foot met his chin, making him reel back. The battle for their souls had begun.
"Whatever you do, stay the HELL away from the blue wave." Fred barely registered the comment, watching helplessly as the X-Men stepped inside, and the chaos continued. Her mind was reeling, and she blinked, swaying slightly as she attempted to peer into the blue wave that was distorting everything. "What the bloody-" The words of Wesley rang through her, but she just couldn't seem to make them come true. Angelus couldn't beat out Angel. Angel was stronger. Angel was always stronger. But there he was, the demonic face, snapping Rogue back, catching her, holding her arms and catching her in a brutal kiss, biting on her lip and making her bleed. That wasn't Angel. Oh, God. Her mouth began to chant, again and again the words of the prophecy rang through her. Chaos reins on the First Night. And the blue wave came forward, and the three human members of Angel Investigation were helpless, stepping back, away and away from the fight. Jean and Storm were desperately trying to get to the machine - HELP MAGNETO. But even if they stopped the Machine the First Night would continue, because Angelus had taken control. In the corner, a body was stirring, moving to life. Her mind kept processing, moving, eyes mentally scanning over and over the texts. Chaos Reigns on the First Night As the demon engulfs Angelus kicking Rogue, making her fall back into a rolling stumble. Cordelia's words, sliding through her. "Something we do triggers it ... I'm leading it." A figure looking suspiciously like Cordelia fighting Logan with a brutality that made Fred's throat ache. "Bloody hell." Wesley moved past her, toward the scene. "Wesley! What the hell are you doing?" It was Gunn holding him back. "I can't stand by and watch!" "You go in there you're toast!" "We have to stop Angel!" "You can't!" "Get out of my way, Gunn." Fred bit her lip. And the watchful become blind Wesley pushing Gunn away, and Gunn returning with a forceful snap of his own, catching Wesley across the jaw. "No way in HELL you're going in there, Wes." She sucked in her breath, turning back to the scene. No... Wes wasn't going in there. Her mind continued to work, and something jolted through her,and suddenly Fred knew, she knew it so well. She had to stop it before - Rogue was next. With a breath, she walked, silently, Gunn never noticing until she was just outside the rapidly advancing wave. "FRED!" She looked back, bit her lip, and closed her eyes. He sprinted, he ran, but she was too close, he as too far. When he dove, he was caught in it, hands around her waist as they fell. The blue wave engulfed them, and her eyes jolted open.
Until the demon consumes many Gunn and Fred had gotten hit by the wave. SHIT. She ducked under, kicking up, catching him in the ribs before shouting a warning to Jean. "Stop the machine!" It was enough to lose her guard, and the heavy hand caught her across the mouth, drawing blood. She reeled, slightly dazed, but flipped over him, keeping him occupied, the demon that had taken over the sensitive vampire. "Fuck you Angel, for giving up," she whispered, crouching. "What a sick little fuck you are," she got in response, as the vampire regarded her, hands out to the chaos in the room, where the others were fighting his vampires, his shapeshifter. "You landed on the wrong side, sister." "Like I really wanted to end up on the psycho team." "Oh baby you'll get there." He came forward, and she blocked three blows before the fourth caught her in her temple, giving her such a blinding pain that she was literally stunned into place, falling back, landing on the hard floor. It was all he needed, as he caught her in his arms, pulling her closer to his hard, cold body. 'Let's see, hmmm... Biting is so damn cliché. Let's try this a different way, huh?" When the knife slit through her abdomen, the blood spurted out, and the dizziness came as she crumpled, even as Logan's howl filled the air.
And may the pain engulf all
As all becomes equal
And the demon reigns free "ROGUE!" Jean's head snapped to the scene, distracted from the blonde, her heart jumping in fear. "Oh Lord, he got Rogue," she whispered, and she swallowed, jerking her mind and the blonde flew back, landing against the wall with an audible thump. Logan flew forward, away from Mystique, diving into Angel, and Rogue fell limply to the side. The claws dug into the vampire, again and again and again- But it did nothing. Jean swallowed, turning her attention way, head aching with concentration as she looked at the rings that were whirring and continuing. She couldn't get in there. She couldn't stop it without - "LOGAN!"
"Fucking bastard." His voice were hoarse, his heart was beating so hard, and his hands continued as if they had a life of their own, digging into the cold flesh again and again. "LOGAN! We Need you!" He didn't listen, he wouldn't move, not even when he saw Mystique coming forward, not when he saw Ororo grab the dark haired bitch by the hair, not when Jean pleaded from the machine. He was gonna finish this bastard off, and then get to Rogue. Who was gonna be alive. She had to be alive.
"NO! DAMMIT!" Wesley paced, prowled, ignoring the ache in his jaw, as his heart cried out in process. Dammit. FUCK. He watched, a helpless spectator. Gunn and Fred locked in a tumultuous embrace, jerking and writhing and changing. "You know, I HATE when people claw me." There was a stunned expression on Logan's face when Angel launched up, caught him by the throat, slammed him against the wall, dangling the feral man like a puppet. "I can't stop it!" He watched with tear filled eyes the scene by the machine, edging closer and closer and he was tempted to just let it wash over him. Scott couldn't get a clear shot, not when he had been knocked out by Mystique, the glasses knocked off, and him lying in a heap on the floor. Ororo was kicked, by Drusilla. And the heap in the corner was shifting slightly. "I've got to go in there." "NO!" Ororo seemed to have heard, and her head whipped toward him and she almost growled, anger in her voice, "Whatever you DO, Wesley. STAY HUMAN." He couldn't move, and he watched, with growing uncertainty. He had to kill Angel. He had to kill Angel. Oh, Lord. He gave a shuddering sob, pacing back and forth, until the figure in the corner caught his eye, sitting up and rubbing her head. Immediately his eyes lit up, "CORDELIA!"
And the animals are tamed
May the soul reign forever There was a thin line between reality and consciousness, and Cordelia knew it immediately, when she groaned, shifting, suddenly aware. When her eyes blinked open, it was there, her vision, and she shook, her heart began to hammer, and she scrambled to her feet. Rogue in a bloody mess on the floor. The young girl was coughing blood, jerking and spasming and OH GOD. Her foot edged in that direction, until her eyes jerked to the Machine. Eric - Jean, fighting of Darla and Ororo fighting off... HER. Her foot edged in that direction, until her eyes jerked to Logan. OH GOD. Angelus. Angelus. Her chest began to heave, and she swallowed. "CORDELIA!" Her eyes jerked, and she squinted and outside of the blue fog and the loud chaos, she saw one lone person. "Wesley," she breathed. He began to mimic, pantomiming with his hands, and she just continued to squint, unsure of what he meant, what he was saying. And finally he just groaned, and his arm lobbed back and in a perfect throw, sent something through to her, dropping it in it a clattering jolt at her feet. A wooden stake. The feelings rushed over her - panic - sorrow - PAIN - ANGER - HATE -LOVE. Oh, GOD. She was brought to her knees, but she resisted the urge to cover it up, to feel anything but her, and she tried to block but it seemed so useless- Her hand groped for the stake, and she held it unsteadily. Her eyes flickered over the three scenes, and when she saw Angelus' fangs sink into Logan's neck, it spurred her into action. No time to think, no time to think - go with the instincts. Go with what you know. Doubts. Fears and doubts and insecurity had plagued her for so many years. It was all gone in a second, as everything inside her stilled and she looked at the stake and knew immediately what it was for. It was for Angelus. With a deep intake of air, she moved, holding the stake firmly in her good hand, walking past the chaos, past the bleeding Rogue, and with a burst of strength that surprised even her, pulled Logan away from Angel, sending the mutant sprawling over Rogue's body. And there it was. All that was left. Cordelia Chase looking into Angelus' eyes, trying to see past him, into Angel. "Cordy!" His arm lashed out and grabbed the fractured arm, twisting it. SHIT. She didn't move, didn't flinch. "Tear the damn thing off, Angelus. I've been through worse. Every vision, every heartbreak, is worse than what you can do to me." A slow, dangerous smile slid over his face. "Care to play the odds, lover?" She smiled back, nodding, and the wooden stake was held up. "Take it Angel. It's a present. For you."
The punctures in his neck were healing, closing immediately, and Logan barely glanced at them as he looked at Rogue, her face draining of any color. "Rogue, baby. Rogue." She shuddered as blinked, blood dripping slightly from her parted lips as she took in a gasp that sounded wet. FUCK. Blood in her longs. "Logan," she closed her eyes, not able to say anything else. "No, come on baby." He immediately reached for his gloves, in his panic and trembling almost unable to get the damn things off. "You touch me I'll shoot you," she answered automatically, her hand covering her wound, trying to keep it closed. It was a weak complaint, but the tone was firm, even as her fading voice seemed to be losing it's strength. Her eyes were dull, but they pinned him. "Marie I have to." "Stop the machine." "Marie-" "FUCK LOGAN!" She coughed, and suddenly winced in pain and a sob came from her, making her jerk and making his heart jump, as he gathered her closer, the blood on his hands that smeared from her body now on her face. She took a moment to breath, wet gasping breaths, and her eyes opened, and she looked at him again, sliding down his lips as her head fell back. "STOP THE FUCKING MACHINE NOW." "Marie-" "NOW." There was no room for argument, and Marie was asking what Logan didn't know if he could do. Choose life or love - save the life of a fuckwhit that branded her in the first place or save her and maybe die in the process. And she was ordering him. "Logan, we need you now!" He was almost numb as he turned, watching as Magneto looked nearly dead, and Rogue, her eyes closed, was breathing erratically. Jean slid in next to him, pushing Rogue off of him and pulling him onto her thighs. "Now, Logan." He stumbled to his feet, the knot in his throat, toward the metal rings that were going faster and faster. With a growl and a yell the claws slid from his body and he let them slide.
The metal splintered into fragments, but she never even blinked, eyes focused completely on the man in front of her. "You are one crazy bitch, you know that?" he said, fangs dripping, a truly grotesque sight in the form of her lover. She nodded, her throat tight. "I know." She was caught from behind, her neck jerked back. "Angelus may I taste her?" His eyes narrowed, as if in annoyance, and with a jerk he pulled Darla back from behind her, forward, into him, into the point of the stake. She exploded with a burst of dust, and Cordelia barely blinked. "Fucking annoying bitch. Go around for a few hundred years and she thinks we're married or some thing." "The nerve," she responded dryly. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes. He sniffed, leaning forward, putting her neck dangerously close to his fangs. "You're not scared of me." Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and she was hauled against him. "That's fucking stupid, Cor," he breathed into her ear. She smiled, and her fingers slid up, tangling into his silky dark hair, "That's not stupid, Angel." He pushed her away, snapping a hand across her face. "Angelus." "No." "What?" "No." The room had gone deadly quiet. She didn't have to look to know everyone was silent. She had no idea how Gunn and Fred had faired, if Rogue was still alive, or if Magneto was still breathing. She had no time. Fifteen minutes. "You're fucking annoying Cordelia." She had intrigued him, she knew. No one played with death incarnate. "I'm tired of being afraid of you. It doesn't do me any good. And it's pointless." "Pointless." His hand gripped her shirt and she was slammed against the wall, a jarring slam that made her body ache and her mind splinter with pain, but her focus was on him. "Angel will always control you. Actually not always. In about five minutes you're going to be officially dead." He smiled, a genuine, diabolical grin. "Going for that Oscar again, Cordy?" "I'm not going to do shit. Angel's going to kill you." "Angel. Angel's dead." "No he's not." "And how are you so damn sure?" he responded, his body pressed against her, arousal at her so clear, pressing against her hip. Sick bastard. "Cordelia!" "Stay away!" she barked at Wesley, never moving her eyes from Angelus'. "All of you. This is between me and him." "Damn right." The demon kept her against the wall, hands at her hips, the wooden stake digging into her side. "As I remember you kinda like this position." "You wanna know how I'm so sure?" she responded, voice even. "Because I can feel every damn emotion coming from your body." It was enough to make him stop, freeze, features finally unsure, and he almost let her go, before he shook it away and grabbed her cheek, jerking her face to the side in a movement that could have easily snapped her neck. "Vampires are immune to empathics, you dumb shit." And her eyes glittered with something close to tears as she whispered, "I know." Someone gasped audibly behind her, and Angelus saw it, he felt it, and she knew the Angel that still existed jumped in response, because suddenly there was the impossible. There was hope. Angelus jerked back, and she fell to the floor, but her voice kept going, spurring her love her. "Come ON, Angel! Do it! You've been wanting to do it for the longest time! Kill the bastard. He's NOT YOU!." "No," Angelus whispered, the words making him shake. "He's not you, Angel. You can feel. You can emit feelings. Think about what that means! Think about what that's made you become." Her chest was heaving as Angelus fell to the ground, and his eye went in horror to the stake in his hand. "No." "You control him, Angel. Put the bastard away." "FUCK!" It happened so quickly she almost missed it, and the hardest thing she ever had to see made her heart splinter as she PRAYED she was right - she had to be right. For all their sakes she had to be right. She was spurring him on. And Fred cried out as Angel staked himself. Cordelia barely had time to process it as lightning filled the room, and everyone ducked, and her hand covered her eyes to shield herself from the impossibly bright light, as the wind whipped into the room and a loud crash was heard and a howl. It was utter chaos and when it ended everything was strewn around the room, daylight was peaking into the building, and Angel lay in a heap in the floor. She crawled forward, her injured arm gathered close to her body as others began to move, stir. Her heart was in her throat as she turned over the unconscious Angel, placing a palm on a warm chest. A heartbeat. Oh God. She burst into tears, the relief suddenly released in a torrent as she fell across her lover, holding him as closely as she could. Fingers rubbed through her hair, the caresses gentle, almost imperceptible. Her eyes opened, and tear streaked hazel eyes gazed into impossibly deep dark brown orbs. "Hey." She swallowed down, hard. "Hey." He gathered her into his arms, his body weakened from the fight but he was warm and alive and ANGEL WAS ALIVE. "Rogue." She turned, her head whipping around and her heart came into her throat when she realized one thing. Rogue, still bleeding, face still pale, was no longer breathing.
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