"I have my heroes, but no one knows their names They never ask for recognition, they never wanted fame..."
~ Sons of the Desert - What I did Right
They were taking a hell of a lot on faith.
Faith was a tricky thing, and Rogue knew, deep in her heart, that she had come to terms with losing it a long time ago. She didn't remember the exact date, or time, or even the exact moment when her faith had shriveled up and dried away, but she did remember the moment she had come to realize that there was no faith inside of her.
There was darkness and there was pain. There had been fear, when she had broken a hand from squeezing too hard, when she had woken up with her face plastered against the ceiling and had no idea how to get down. When she had looked into Logan's eyes and seen actual fear.
It hadn't been a big change, but it was there, in her heart, eating away.
She had borne it admirably, she supposed. She had allowed Scott to talk to her about what these new mutations did and how they could help her and how it would help her be a better X-Men as a result. She allowed Storm to take her up into the sky and teach her about the need for control, and she had worked until she discovered gravity again and no longer fell asleep with ropes tied to her hands for fear she would float up and smack against the wall again.
She had even managed to retain her friendship with Logan. It had been the hardest, and oddly, the easiest thing to do. He had promised to never be scared of her, and he held her and whispered he was sorry but she never forgot the look of fear.
Even now, she saw it.
With the look came doubt for her own future. If Logan feared... then perhaps it really was over.
Hope, and faith, had died then.
Even now, as she watched Cordelia enter the room on shaky legs, could smell her flustered and cooling body thanks to Logan's inherited traits, she had to wonder exactly when it had started to come back.
Because, she knew, there were taking a hell of a lot on faith.
And if that was true... then perhaps it hadn't been so dead after all.
Cordelia caught her eyes, and she only shrugged, walking to a locker and opening it.
"This is for you."
Cordelia Chase looked, and blinked, and looked again, rubbing at her eyes, and running tired hands through her hair before shaking her head emphatically.
"You've got to be kidding."
Rogue only shook her head slightly, reaching to the side and pulling out a duffel bag.
"Keep it in here until we need it. We won't change for the trip but just in case it's a good idea to carry it around."
"I'm not one of you."
"You are now."
Cordelia looked tired, but Rogue felt just as exhausted, and when Cordelia's hazel eyes met her brown ones, Rogue knew she was through arguing.
There was simply no time. They had loitered, talked, bonded enough.
"Fine," she finally said, crossing her arms, and shaking her head, taking the leather suit that had been set aside for her and folding it into the bag.
Rogue nodded and grabbed her own bag, slinging it over her shoulder and heading to the doorway, when she suddenly paused. "Is he okay?"
Cordelia's shoulder slumped slightly, but Rogue got a nod out of her. "For now."
Rogue pursed her lips, and studied the woman, before finally letting the curiosity get the better of her.
"So what the hell are you two? Friends or Lovers?"
Cordelia stiffened, and the sucking in of the breath, was followed by a very audible sigh as she grabbed the bag and turned, eyeing Rogue with such a tired expression.
"Friends," she clipped finally. "Nothing more."
"It didn't look like it."
"I don't give a rat's ass what it looked like," Cordelia snapped, and then launched forward, moving away from Rogue and past her.
Rogue's eyes narrowed and her hand lurched out, grabbing Cordelia and making her pause.
"So why does it matter so much?"
Cordelia was trembling, and her body was hot under Rogue's leather touch. Rogue was silent, watching, waiting, ever the predator, ever the hunter, inherited by the mastermind, by the beastman, by the woman with the incredibly strength, all of whom still resided in vestiges of her brain.
They were all silent, watching, and waiting with her.
"Because to love him means death," Cordelia finally said, eyes flashing as she tossed her short hair and glared into Rogue's eyes. "Happy now? I sleep with him, he gets a happy, he loses the soul and the world meets Angelus. Death Incarnate. I'm in love with a demon. So we're friends. Discussion closed. I had a vision, the world is ending. Let's save it."
Cordelia shrugged her off and continued on her way to the jet, and Rogue didn't stop her. Instead she found her hands stealing around her own body, hugging herself with the immense strength that had taken her weeks to try and control and get used to.
In the silence that followed, it was Rogue's own form that was trembling, and the tears that slipped, came from her own eyes.
Cordelia took a breath and walked into the jet, making sure to keep away from the vampire who sat by himself in the corner.
Her throat ached from emotion, and her body was still not quite recovered from the trauma and the pain. Her mind felt... open some how, and feelings that were flitting over her seemed alien and too tumultuous not to disorientate her slightly.
She shook herself, and finally opted to sink down into the nearest chair, closing her eyes and holding a hand to her head and taking a deep breath in.
"Vision Girl. You don't look so good."
Cordelia opened her eyes and the oddest sense of fury and anger and bitterness and ... love... slid over her and she blinked, turning and found exactly who she had seated herself next to.
Shit.
Logan just crossed his arms, and Cordelia took a breath, trying to control whatever the hell it was that was slipping over her.
"I'm going to ignore you," she muttered under her breath. "Don't take it personally. I would ignore anyone right now."
That earned her a smile, but she didn't see it.
The vision. She needed to concentrate on talking about the vision.
But the damn emotions-
There was too many.
"- Officials refuse to comment on the extent of the damage done by looters to the downtown district, but Mayor Hahn has said that if the rioting continues, the City of Los Angeles will be put under a state of emergency. Police is urging residents to please, stay in your homes."
The television image grew fuzzy for a moment and Gunn frowned, turning up the volume as the reporter lost contact, and then she was back, amidst the site of blazing fires and shouts of anger and shots.
The image cut to a shot of the Police Press Agent, looking concerned and annoyed and calm at the same time. Cameras flashed off the dome of his bald forehead as he leaned forward. "The riots over the mutant rights convention are unneeded. We are all citizens. Again, we ask, please stay in your homes. Mutants or humans, it doesn't matter. Any civil unrest WILL be prosecuted."
"Sir! What about the eclipse!"
"Is it true mutants are biting people?"
"Are humans fighting back?"
Gunn closed his eyes and groaned, finally fed up. He switched off the television, and the monitor winked out, leaving him and his companion in complete silence, sitting side by side on the couch.
Fred reached over, turning on the lamp, sliding her book in her lap and casually turning a page - a little too casual, in Gunn's opinion.
"So?"
"I don't know."
Fred rubbed at her neck, grimacing as she brought her feet up under her thighs to settle herself more comfortably, wincing again at the crook of her neck.
"If we're going to stop this we need to figure out what Lorne meant by First Night. But... I'm not... I wish Wesley was here."
Gunn, who at the moment had been watching the line of her shoulder to her jawbone, quite graceful, that was, let a swell of irrational irritation slide over him. "Wesley. Angel. Cordelia. Damn girl, it's almost as if you'd rather be with anyone here but me."
Her eyes widened slightly and her head jerked to him. "No. It's not that, Gunn. Wesley is better at the research. Angel - he's my friend. And Cordelia is my friend and you-"
"I what?"
"Disconcert me." She gave a small shrug and then looked back down at her pages, her hair tumbling forward with the action. Absently she pulled the bang back behind her ear. "I'm never sure where to place you."
A morose smile slid over him and he nodded, answering dryly, "You're not exactly placeable yourself, girl."
"Fred."
"What?"
"My name is Fred."
He just sighed, picking up another book and looking through it absently. There was quiet from Fred's side of the couch, and he took it as a cue not to talk, letting the awkwardness between them that had been in residence ever since he had impulsively kissed her die into companionable silence.
Gunn used the time to think, to try to understand exactly what had happened. Whatever Lorne meant about First Night, it was starting. Outside the confines of the hotel was chaos. An eclipse that no one had seen coming was indeed coming, and it would cover the sun and Gunn had the sneaking suspicion it would stay there, making this crazy night seem even longer.
Riots between mutants and humans had started and gotten violent and bloody, and demons had taken complete advantage, roaming the streets, masquerading as mutants, and adding to whatever evil they could.
Damn.
He should have been out there. He should have been at Anne's protecting his crew and instead he was here, hiding, waiting, with a girl who barely tolerated him, even if he did 'disconcert' her.
Protector his ass.
"Gunn."
He took a breath, and looked again at the crazy Fred, who had taken off her glasses and was again rubbing at the crook in her neck.
"What?"
"I need you."
He blinked, and replayed the words, and again they didn't seem to make sense, the matter-of-fact way she said it, with no breathy romantic sigh or hands clutched over her heart making him simply stare stupidly. "Huh?"
"I need you," she repeated. "You make me feel safe. You said before -about me preferring the others... I don't. You make me feel safe. No one else does that but you. So... there you go." And she gave a half smile and blushed slightly and pulled on the glasses and turned back to her books and Fred was herself again.
Gunn could only stare, an odd stirring in his heart making him smile and the knowledge that the world was ending dimming to slight drum as he cocked his head and stared at her.
Okay... so maybe there was some merit in this whole protector gig. He could get used to it, if it got more smiles and blushes like that outta her.
He paused, considering and finally he scooted over, gently moving her, ignoring her surprised sound of protest and kneading gently into her shoulders.
"We're gonna be up all night most likely, waiting for them and trying to get this thing researched. We need to get that crick out of your neck." He said it matter-of-factly, with no room for argument. When she looked into his eyes and he smiled, he knew she understood, because she smiled back. Her gaze held his and her eyes closed as her head leaned back against his shoulder.
And he held her, and he liked it.
Because he made her feel safe. Outside, the cries and panic of a city in chaos continued to come closer, but Gunn felt strangely able - not fearing, for the first time in a while.
Trouble in paradise.
Wesley watched with dimly concealed curiosity as Storm and Remy argued heatedly in the corner. The emotion that came off the Goddess in waves was more than he had ever seen in her, and he found himself oddly fascinated by it, as Remy grabbed her shoulders and she shrugged him off.
"She likes you. He hates that. He's not going and pissed." Cordelia sank into the chair next to him, offering her friend a tired smile before leaning her head on his shoulder.
"How exactly do you know that?"
"I can... feel it. It's... weird."
His eyes narrowed and he grew concerned at the uneasiness in her voice, was about to ask her about it when she moved her head from his shoulder and stared at him.
"The Vision."
"Yes,'" he said immediately.
"It's bad, Wesley," she said finally, her voice a hoarse whisper.
He was fighting within himself for the words to answer her, she knew. Storm felt her insides tremor and she swallowed and flickered a glance back to the Englishman who was talking in heated whispers with Cordelia Chase.
"Goddess.."
"Save it, Remy," she spit, moving past him only to be held in place with a hand on her elbow. Her dark eyes met the fiery red ones with a defiant shrug of her shoulders and a shake of her head, and the movement seemed to undo him, because he swallowed and let her go, licking his lips.
"I handled things badly, mon ami. It was not like ... it was different with you."
"No Remy it wasn't." Storm hitched in her breath. "You said it meant nothing and I believed you. I told you that if you valued our friendship we would keep it what it was... one night. I believed you. I made myself believe you even when I-"
His hands were back on hers and she swallowed, stepping back, accidentally knocking her head on the low overhead in the process. "You told me you loved me, Cherie."
Her cheeks turned into a blush and she swallowed, licking her lips. "I know what I said, Remy."
"Then why..."
"Because you don't love me, Remy," she snapped finally. "You had one night of sex and now because you think Wesley is getting a little too close you want to save your investment." Her eyes blinked and they grew milky and he saw it, and she cursed herself for the loss of control. "I thought we were friends."
"We are."
"Then it shouldn't matter."
He gazed at her, and finally the broad shoulders slunk down and he took a breath, and he stepped back, away from her, watching her the entire time. "It shouldn't, mon ami. Remy does not want to care. But he does. There is fear."
Dammit.
"I see Angelus... and I see Rogue with a wound... I see Logan dying... and I see me... but it doesn't... it doesn't feel like me... and I'm... spurring him on... like... " Cordelia's hands shook , and Wesley moved his eyes to Angel, who was watching. He shook his head slightly and Angel got the message.
He stayed put.
"It's us, Wesley. Us four. Something WE do triggers it. We bring back Angelus... GOD Wesley. After all this time - all the damn precautions and all the damn sacrifices if we let him go-"
"Hey," he immediately slid an arm around her, drawing her close. "Cordelia, look at me. We have quite the impressive track record, don't we? We'll figure this out and we'll stop it. Just like we always do. I promise."
Cordelia let her breath out and she swallowed, processing the pep talk. "Then why is there fear in you?"
He froze, his heart hammered as Cordelia looked deep into his eyes.
How the bloody-
"Wesley you're the only one I've told because I don't want Angel to panic. When the time comes I will tell him. Until then keep your mouth shut and all that panic and paranoia bottled up. Research something for me, when we get there... Something... I keep... it's in my head - First Night. I don't know what that means. But it should mean something."
Scott slid into the chair and he shouted some orders and suddenly the plane jerked and Storm settled in beside him.
She was quiet, but he noticed Remy was not on the plane, and neither was Charles Xavier when the jet took off.
Charles Xavier had no idea why he was attempting what for seven years had never worked. He had no idea why he even felt the inclination to try, but he could not simply stand by and wait while the younger members of the team he founded stepped into the virtual unknown.
He knew that someone had to stay with the school, and he knew that as powerful as he was, controlling minds and telepathy could only take him so far in battle. Oh yes, he was strong, powerful, and thankful that it had not corrupted him as it had corrupted others, but what had kept him sane was the reality check.
It gave him the ability to trust his students. It did not give him the ability to stop worrying.
He waited, studying the chamber that had always been little to no help, and was once almost fatal, in his dealings with his old friend, and he clenched his jaw, giving the Cajun next to him a side long glance.
Remy LeBeau looked angry, and Charles did not blame him. Remy was a man of action, who did not like to be left behind, and that was exactly what had happened, at least in Remy's eyes. Charles did not bother to explain that in a situation where quick thinking and a one man army was needed, Remy was the best candidate, being lean and strong and a leader that the younger team members looked up to and saw as their own, unorthodox and smart.
All Remy saw was Storm very likely involved with someone else, disrupting his own revelations concerning the wind goddess.
Charles Xavier dismissed it. There were far more important matters at hand.
"Wait out here," he said finally.
The Cajun nodded.
Charles wheeled forward, letting the security system that housed Cerebro go through its procedure, granting him access once it ascertained that he indeed, was Charles Xavier.
The door opened and he took a breath, about to go forward when steps running toward them distracted him, making his head turn to regard Kitty, who seemed a trifle out of breath, holding out the phone.
"It's for you, Professor."
Charles gave a small frown. "I'm busy Kitty, perhaps you could take a message?"
"I don't think I should, Professor."
"Kitty, Leave 'em be!" Remy said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. "Take a message."
"It's Magneto."
Charles paused, and then looked up to finally see the face of the very agitated Kitty. Taking a long breath, he waited until the heartbeat that had swung out of control had calmed somewhat, before leaning forward and plucking the phone from her waiting fingers.
"This is Charles."
"Old Friend."
The delicate rasp was familiar enough, and Professor X closed his eyes, meditating on it before opening and answering calmly, "Hello, Erik. Perfect timing. I was just going to try and pay you a visit."
"I was waiting, Old Friend. I never felt the pull, so I thought I might speed things up."
Remy was standing upright and Kitty was right next to him, both watching the conversation intently.
"Why do you persist in trying, Charles? Slowing what is inevitable? You are hindering your fate, all of your children's fate. Getting them stuck on a side that will be overcome."
"What makes you say that, Erik?" he asked, his voice almost conversational. "Because you believe it to be so?"
"It is written in the stars, Charles. In the future. It is unavoidable."
"You never struck me as a superstitious man, Erik."
"And you were never the type to put your children in needless harm. Pull them back, Charles. You cannot stop the inevitable, and you are killing them. Give me one to sacrifice many."
It took two deep, long breaths, both in and out, before Charles was able to give his long lost friend a coherent answer, "Erik if you hurt any of my students I will dispense with the civilities."
"And do what? Kill me? Then you would be no better."
Charles swallowed, his hands clenching his chair.
There was silence, and Erik decided to fill it, his voice now matter-of-fact. "The time for pleasantries is over, Charles. We are dealing with the end, and with forces you had no idea ever existed. I thank you kindly for your help, Charles, in bringing three crucial elements to this plan. The inevitable has started Charles, but I'm afraid your part is ended. I have no need for you, nor your students. As an old friend, for the memories, I leave you with one warning, keep them out of my way. The First Night has begun, Charles, as your students shall soon find out, as they meet their hosts here in wonderful Los Angeles. Regards, Charles. Have a pleasant evening."
The speech ended with a click, and Charles held the phone to his ear, hoping he had misheard. "Erik! ERIK!"
He cursed silently, and slammed the phone down, immediately looking up to Kitty. "Call the jet. Call them back, now. Tell them now to touch down until we know what we're dealing with."
"But they're almost there-"
"DO IT," he snapped and turned, wheeling into Cerebro, letting the doors close behind him, shutting his students out of his mind, and out of the room.
"Are we there yet?"
"Shut up, Logan," Scott snapped from the front.
Logan smirked and leaned his chin on his palm, once again turning eyes on the young seer that sat beside him. She was very, very still, and his smirk faded, as his eyes narrowed slightly.
Chick was in bad shape, and no one really seemed to notice but him.
"Hey, Vision Girl. You okay?"
"Why the hell does everyone keep asking me that? Do I look okay?" she snapped immediately, keeping her eyes closed.
"Fine. You look like shit. Feel better?"
"Tons," she said dryly. One eye opened precariously, and she regarded him. "You're not as hairy up close. What's with the 'do anyway? Stuck in the seventies much?"
The smirk faded away completely. One hand almost drifted insecurely to his hair, but he stilled the urge with a growl, as he gave her one long once over that had managed to squelch a few bitches before.
She didn't even blink, so he added, "Right. And those streaks are as natural as the breasts."
"The boobs are real, bub."
She thumped him once in a chest with a finger and then went back to closing her eyes. "Now shut up. I'm trying to be as still as possible."
Something told him it wasn't something she was very good at. Immediately she shifted and groaned.
He ignored it, instead looking across the plane where Rogue was seated next to tall dark and broody, who had his eyes fixed on the chick seated next to him.
Logan licked his lips slightly, his eyes continuing to watch as his former best friend, leaned back against her seat, fingers pulling at the gloves, a sure sign of insecurity, nervous agitation. He continued to stare, watching as her mouth trembled, and her fingers absently twirled a white strand of hair.
"What's the ETA?" Jean asked from the front, and Logan harumped slightly when Scott answered her patiently, when all she had really asked was a different version of his question.
"About ten minutes."
The consul in front of Storm beeped slightly, and Storm leaned forward, answering it immediately.
"Storm here."
"'Ro, tell Scott to turn back."
There was panic in the voice that he immediately recognized as Kitty's and again there was scrambling, as he moved over the barely moving Cordelia, letting his hand slip on her knee in the process, before moving behind Ororo to watch Kitty's face.
"What?"
"Professor Charles said-"
"SHIT."
Logan looked up, immediately focusing on Scott, because Scott rarely, if ever, cursed, at least not in front of the crew.
"What the hell?"
"Back in the seats! NOW!" Scott cried hoarsely, and somewhere behind him, he heard Cordelia whimper and the jet shook and he very nearly lost his footing when the damn thing jerked completely.
"SCOTT!" he growled.
"LOGAN SIDDOWN!" Scott yelled. "We got company."
Panic and fear and desperation slid over her and the feelings were so alien and consuming that Cordelia groaned in protest, covering her ears with her hands in an effort to keep it away from her.
But it continued to seep through her as the shaking continued and the aching started and when the vision came she was strapped tightly to her seat.
The myriad of images floated over her, and it was so confusing as she felt the blood, the haze, watching as Angelus bit into Rogue's neck, watching as Logan dangled helplessly in the air, watching as Fred writhed and Wesley cried out in pain and Gunn grew horns-
And in the present, about her, there was shouting and shaking and the visions stopped and her eyes snapped open and she found herself in yet another nightmare.
The jet was smoking and the feelings rushed over her as there was a crash and her body lurched and strong arms encased in denim slipped about her and hands touched and DAMMIT THERE WAS THE FEELINGS AGAIN-
They consumed her, and she struggled against it, whimpering against the onslaught.
"HOLD ON!"
"WHAT THE HELL IS SHOOTING AT US?"
"ROGUE!"
She was pushed back and her eyes opened dimly to find the cargo bay door open. The wind was frigid, but through the murkiness of the panic and fury and fear that paralyzed her body she was able to watch as Rogue held her own against the winds, as Storm immediately moved to her side. Rogue grabbed the top of the open doors and swung through, strong legs connecting with something outside before the wind sucked her out, taking Storm with her.
"STORM!"
"LEAVE THEM THEY'RE FINE."
Logan growled, a deep rumbling that slid through her and the feelings intensified and she closed her eyes, unable to do anything but feel.
"Hang ON!"
She heard Scott yell in concentration and the plane landed with a jerk and a bump before she was almost jerked out of her seat yet again by a jarring crash that splintered in her ears.
"Out now!"
Angel grappled for his seatbealt, shaking out of it, as the plane slid to a stop in the concrete parking lot.
He lurched forward, immediately moving toward Cordelia, pushing Logan away from her, who was already scrambling to the open cargo bay where Rogue and Storm had disappeared seconds before.
He had never heard of being attacked in mid air before, and the emergency landing had taken it's toll on the smoking plane, he could see that clearly, as Scott cursed, moving away from the sparking consul, bringing Jean with him.
"Out! Now!" he ordered.
Angel crushed Cordelia to him and obeyed, moving toward the opening with the others, jumping out and landing on the hard cement, only to have his still heart heave within him at the sight that was waiting for him.
Logan unsheathed his claws, and Scott immediately raised his hand to the visor, as the rest of the team stumbled out, all pausing when they saw what Angel had deemed as a not good site.
At least two dozen mutants and... vampires were waiting for them, surrounding the plane, the darkened parking lot suddenly the perfect place for an ambush.
Angel pulled Cordelia closer to him, and she was still numb with shock, because she did nothing, merely held her hands to her ears and burrowed deeper into his clothing.
Above them, Rogue and Storm fought, the mid air collisions loud enough to make Angel look up.
"Shit. Demons and mutants."
"Demons?" Jean immediately breathed, her hands clenched. "I'm not dressed for this."
"Okay, one question, can we KILL the demons?" Logan rasped.
Angel nodded mutely.
"Oh-kay, Great. Only one quibble. Which ones are mutants and which ones are demons?"
Wesley didn't have a chance to answer, before a blast that came from one of the men advancing cut off any words he could have spoken.
"Cordelia," he breathed, moving back, putting her against the plane, shaking her roughly. "Open your eyes, come on!"
She swallowed, and shuddered, but her eyes obediently opened, looking slightly glazed over. "I need you to concentrate," he continued, and the shouting started, and there was fighting around him. "Come on."
"I'm... fine..." she began. "Angel... there's feelings..." her eyes widened. "ANGEL!"
He sniffed, and turned, barely catching the clawed hand the came down on him. He growled, the vampire face in full swing as he kicked up, smashing into the face of the mutant the attacked him.
In the wake of the battle that ensued, he barely had time to even look at the seer behind him, but the words she spoke next were so incredibly clear.
"The First Night... There is chaos on the first night. It's begun."
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