They were too late.
That was the only thought that ran through his head as the Blackbird touched the ground. The exterior of the base was completely destroyed. Only the charred ruins of walls and support beams were left behind and the fire that wiped everything else out had even darkened the ground the buildings sat on. There was nothing to look for anymore.
“All right,” Logan began lowly, his right hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. Even from inside the jet, he could smell the toxic scent of the fire that had destroyed any hope he had left of finding her. He doubted there was anything still useful in the pile of rubble before them. “Angel, watch our backs from the sky. If you see any sign of anyone on their way to snoop around, let us know right away. Jubilee, stay on the jet. We don’t know what we’re going to find, and we might need you in case flyboy over there misses anything. Colossus, you’re with me. Let’s go.”
The ramp opened slowly as Jubilee released the gauges and the sudden stench that met them in the cold, desert night consumed their senses. Logan automatically identified the different smells. It wasn’t hard: mixed in with the odor of smoke was the sickly sweet smell of death. People had died here tonight. Logan only prayed that she wasn’t among the body count as he prepared for a long search.
He heard the sound of boots crunching through gravel that had once been a wall. As Logan looked up, it became clear by the look on the younger man’s face that the news wasn’t good.
“Logan, I think you should come look at this,” Colossus said solemnly as he pointed to an area he had just inspected. “I believe I have found where they were kept.”
He only nodded as he stood and followed the boy about a quarter of a mile east. Logan knew right away that this area was different somehow. Although there were signs of a fire, the debris wasn’t as shattered here, and the smell of smoke wasn’t as strong. Logan wasn’t sure if it was because this was where the fire had started or ended. Considering that there were mutants here, it could have gone either way. One thing was for sure: the stench of death was stronger. Whatever Colossus had found couldn’t be good.
Smack dab in the middle of a partially burned floor was a trap door. Judging by the rough map in his possession, Logan guessed that the room above it was a lab. If the mutants were kept here, it would make for convenient transport.
As he knelt and opened the door, Logan’s sense of smell was assaulted by the stench of blood. It was still weak, though, almost as if the scent was being blocked somehow.
“What do we do now, my friend?” Colossus asked carefully as they both peered down into a poorly lit stairwell. “Do you want me to call the others?”
“No. If anyone is still alive, we’ll take care of it. But you might want to suit up before we head down.” Colossus had stayed in his human form the entire time they had been searching, not wanting to unnecessarily use up too much energy. But now, as Logan watched, he flexed his muscles, turning into the living metal he was known for. If things got interesting, at least Logan knew he would have some back up.
They traveled down a single flight of stairs before coming to another door. It was the only one, and the stairs ended almost directly at its frame. Shifting into a defensive stance before opening the door, Logan and Colossus both prepared themselves for whatever was on the other side. One sniff confirmed Logan’s suspicions. Whatever death was lingering in the air, it was hiding behind this door.
Slowly pushing the slab of steel open, Logan peered in. Blood was everywhere; a lot of it. The room was just as poorly lit as the hall, but Logan could see clearly enough. It was built almost like a warehouse, with one long line of cell doors down one side and nothing but a brick wall down the other. Every door was wide open, and it was easy to tell which cells had been occupied by the excrement that sat in the metal toilets.
Half way down the hall, Logan stopped abruptly. The scent had been mingled with so many others that he hadn’t recognized it at first, but now, standing in front of it, there was no denying it. Turning towards it, Logan realized that it was one of the few doors that hadn’t been left standing open, although it was cracked. Pushing on it, the door swung easily enough. Logan stepped back for a second, taking in the scene before him.
Five bodies were thrown into a haphazard pile in the middle of the small cell. All wore uniforms that were military in appearance but obviously standard issue for guards. There was no dignity or respect in the way they lay. It resembled the way a careless child would leave a doll after some grotesque mutilation. Logan noticed that one of the bodies had his eyes gouged out, while another appeared to have had his nose ground into his skull and was missing an arm.
But that wasn’t what drew him to this room. Over the stench of death coming off the bodies and the pool of blood that had spread across the floor, Logan had caught another two scents. Both were as familiar to him as his own.
He knew he wasn’t mistaken as he walked further inside; he could smell Rogue in the entire room. But it wasn’t just Rogue, it was the sweet, coppery smell of her blood that lingered. She had bled in here, profusely.
It was the other scent that helped him piece the rest together, though: the scent of an animal. Victor Creed had also been trapped in this cell, and Logan could only to easily envision what had happened.
The guards might have thrown her into this cell with Victor for some sort of amusement, but when it became apparent that he was going to hurt her, they came in to stop him, only to lose their lives to the giant animal.
Still, Logan couldn’t quite make sense of two things. Why would Creed have helped the rest of the mutants escape? He was an uncaring bastard who thought little of life. Why would he go out of his way to open the rest of the cells when he didn’t know what was waiting for him up top? And, where was Rogue’s body? There was no sign of it anywhere. Could Creed or one of the other mutants have taken it with them?
None of it made any sense in his head, but Logan couldn’t see any other way it would have worked. Unless, of course, Rogue had died after helping the others escape. The guards may have cornered her into a trap with Creed, who would have relished killing her. Logan wouldn’t put it past him to have taken her body, either. There were so many possible scenarios, so many little details that could have changed the story dramatically, but Logan was sure of the outcome of each one.
“Logan?” He had heard the man approach, but was too lost in thought to care. Turning, he saw the horrified look on the gentle giant’s face, and knew that he was having a hard time stomaching the scene before him. Logan hoped that the boy wouldn’t lose his innocence.
He turned, closing the door behind him. There was no point in wasting any more time here. There was nothing more to find.
“She’s dead, Colossus. We can go home now.”
A little further down the corridor, hidden deep within the shadows, lay a small, useless remote control, covered in the blood and sweat of a young woman who risked everything for the chance to escape.
She was dead. She had to be. She could feel the soft texture of sheets under her body, and the warmth of a thick blanket over her. She refused to open her eyes for fear that she would find she truly was dead or that the warmth comfort she was incased in was only a delusion and she was still back in that small cell with Victor.
The last thing she remembered before passing out as Victor carried her into the night was telling Pyro not to torch everything. She told him to leave the cells. That way whoever found it would know that people were kept down there. With any luck, it would be someone who actually cared.
She opened her eyes slowly as realization dawned. They had made it out alive, and obviously, one of them had found a safe place for everyone.
Her mind began to wander, processing everything she remembered. Victor had joined her and helped her open the rest of the cells after making sure that all of the guards were dead. She had definitely killed one. Wayland. She could only assume that the other voices in her head had pushed him back as far as they could. She could only faintly hear him.
She knew that if it weren’t for touching him, she wouldn’t have made it as far as she had. Taking his life force, his energy, was what had given her the push to continue. Otherwise, she probably would have passed out from blood loss before opening the first door. It was interesting to learn that her mutation worked that way, but it wasn’t something she felt like dwelling on. It wasn’t important.
And then she opened Pyro’s cell, and that was a shock. She hadn’t known he was there; had no idea, really, but she realized then that she had missed him.
And then Victor had been there, by her side, urging them on and hurrying to make sure no one was left behind. Once all the doors were open, he had opened the door at the far end of the corridor. A stairwell was the only thing on the other side.
Making their way to the top, and eventually to freedom, Victor had found a rather large lab coat that he forced her to wear before he picked her up and carried her the rest of the way out. She hadn’t yet had an opportunity to see the others they had saved, but that didn’t really matter. She knew that Victor had made sure they all made it. She trusted him not to have left anyone behind.
She finally began to realize that she wasn’t seeing everything through her own mind’s eye, though. She remembered what she had done to the doctors and how she had completely torn off the arm of the man whose cheek she had clawed open. There was a slight disappointment that she had already killed Wayland, but just as quickly, she accepted it.
She wasn’t just seeing these events from her own cache of memories, but also through the ones she had gained by touching Victor. She just didn’t know when that had happened. Closing her eyes, she concentrated with her entire body, filing away the memories of both Victor and Wayland. She tried not to notice any of them, instead concentrating on her own and the good points in her life. It was depressing to note how few there really were.
“You need a shower, child.” Rogue jumped at the voice. She hadn’t been aware that someone was in the room with her, hadn’t caught her scent. Of course, it also made sense that the woman she was looking at might own the place. “At least you’re awake, though. Welcome back to the land of the living.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. The woman before her looked ordinary enough; blond hair the color of straw, dark brown eyes. No visible mutation. Was she a sympathetic human who was trying to help? Or was she like the rest of them? Was she able to blend in as long as no one looked twice or paid too much attention?
“Who are you?” she asked wearily. Rogue was strong enough to fight, if need be, but that didn’t mean she wanted to.
“Oh, yes. You wouldn’t recognize me. Not like this.” The woman smiled sweetly, her eyes lightening at the same time. It was a small change, but there was nothing subtle about it as the dark brown quickly turned into a glowing yellow. Rogue instantly jumped from the bed, her body easily falling into a defensive stance. She had no idea what was going on, but considering who was involved, it couldn’t be good. “Calm down, Rogue. There is no reason for you to act like this. There’s no threat.”
“Sorry if I’m having a hard time believing you right now, Mystique. Where’s Victor?” Although she was calm on the outside, Rogue felt everything within her shiver in anticipation. She knew there was no way she could win a fight with the shape shifter. She had been through too much already and her training wasn’t advanced enough, so she did the next best thing. She screamed, “VICTOR!”
The door burst open within seconds of her cry for help, but it wasn’t Victor who came in. It was another person that sent chills racing up and down her spine at the sight of him. In all the commotion, she had completely forgotten that he could very well be here, and now he was standing before her.
Pyro looked just as shocked as she felt, but for an obviously different reason. He looked between the two women, his face twisting into an angry grimace. “Victor asked you to stay out of here until he was able to speak to her, Mystique. What are you doing?”
Mystique sighed heavily, exasperated. “I didn’t intend any harm to the girl, John. I just wanted to make sure she was all right and to see if she would like fresh clothes and a shower. She is a girl; she may not want to sit around in her own stink for too long.”
Rogue felt her ears twitch at the thought of a shower. It had been a damn long time since she had felt the luxury and she could only imagine what her scent did to everyone else.
“Besides, the poor thing is filthy and has been sleeping in my bed for the last twelve hours. I would like to change the linen while she’s indisposed,” Mystique finished as her pride shone through her lifted chin.
Rogue wasn’t quite sure what to think, but she had a feeling that Mystique wasn’t a threat that she needed to worry about. For now, anyway. Besides, Rogue was willing to make a deal with the Devil himself to get into a bathroom. She already had it calculated in her head: 20 minutes in the shower to wash away all of the grime and stink, then an hour in a bath to soak her muscles and another quick shower to rinse off.
Mystique smiled affectionately as Rogue let her shoulders relax. “The door to the bathroom is right behind you, Rogue. Use what you want and take your time. Come down when you’re ready. There are some people here who would like to speak to you.”
Rogue nodded slowly, before turning around and leaving Pyro and Mystique glaring at each other.
Rogue easily found her way to the living room after she put on the fresh clothes Mystique had laid out for her. Although the green t-shirt was a little tight and the bra was a size too small, the black jeans felt tight and loose in all the right places. There was even a pair of shoes that fit well. After slipping them on, she opened the door leading out of the room and followed the sounds of hushed voices. It seemed that Victor’s mutations had yet to wear off.
There were no real introductions made after Rogue found her way to the living room. A group of people sat around the coffee table, deep in discussion. The only faces that she recognized were Mystique and Pyro, but one of the men seemed eerily familiar. She didn’t know him, but there was something about the set of his jaw and the line of his nose that tickled at her memory.
She watched them closely for a minute, memorizing their faces and their voices, along with their specific scents. Sitting to the right of Mystique was an older blind woman who was gently tracing small patterns on Mystique’s jean-clad knee as she paid close attention. Her scent was welcoming and warm. She smelled of cooking and cleanliness and pride. Her back seemed to straighten when Rogue walked in, but other than that, she gave no indication that they were being watched.
To her left was the man that Rogue felt she must know somehow. Blond, broad-shouldered and young – probably younger than her – he had blue eyes and bronzed skin. He looked like the human incarnation of the term ‘Golden Boy’. Even his scent was familiar, but she couldn’t figure out how.
Next to him sat a woman who was probably in her mid- to late twenties, another blonde. From her angle, Rogue could just make out the color of her right eye, the most vivid green she had ever seen. Her scent reminded Rogue of clouds and strength. She was familiar too, but at least this time, Rogue knew from where. She had been locked in one of the cells Rogue had opened and had helped everyone remove their collars.
There were three more people, two men and one woman. One sat with his back to her next to Pyro. They seemed to be involved in their own deep discussion, only adding their input every now and then. All she could see was the brownish red of his hair. His scent brought sulfur to mind as he spoke with a thick, Cajun accent.
The woman was a bit older, maybe in her thirties. She appeared to be Asian and spoke with a British accent. Her eyes were too dark to tell if they were brown or black, and her hair was long and thick, a beautiful deep purple. Her scent was strange, too: deadly and menacing, but almost as if it didn’t fit with the body it was attached to. Every now and then, her eyes would dart to the spot where Rogue stood, but like the blind woman, she said nothing.
The last man looked to be about her age. Tall and lanky, he was constantly in motion, whether tapping his fingers on his knee or nervously twitching his foot. His hair was white as snow, and his eyes were a crystal blue. He too was familiar, and her thoughts grew dark as she realized why. He looked just as she suspected Magneto had in his youth. Judging by the company he kept, it was entirely possible they were related.
And of course, Victor was nowhere in sight. He was probably still upstairs in one of the many bedrooms, healing. It was obvious that his abilities hadn’t left her yet. Would he awaken when they faded away?
Mystique stood suddenly, beaming the fake smile of the blond that had greeted her when she first awoke. Rogue couldn’t help but wonder why she still wore the disguise. It wasn’t as if the house wasn’t full of other mutants. Were some of these people unaware of who she was?
“Why don’t we finish this discussion later? Rogue, would you like something to eat? I was beginning to wonder when you would make your way down.”
Rogue felt her cheeks redden as everyone turned their attention to her, including the man who originally had his back to her. She gasped when his eyes caught hers. They were red on black, marking him as the only visible mutant in the room, and there was no mistaking the lustful interest in the depths of those eyes.
Sneering in disgust, Rogue turned and walked away from the group. She was perfectly aware of the man with the demon eyes moving silently behind her as she made her way towards the kitchen and the smell of food.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry it took so long, this chapter was kind of hard to life and real life has been a little strange.
Chapter End Notes:
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