Title: Freak on a Leash
Author: Askani'daughter / Eruntalince (newloverboys@yahoo.com)
//thoughts//
~foreign language translated into English~
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Freak on a Leash 3 - Depression Glass
By Askani'daughter
Even with Scott to snuggle with, Warren couldn't sleep.
Warren gently detached himself from the older man, smiling fondly down at the sleeping beauty. Scott was snoring lightly, face and sleeping goggles buried into the pillow. His arms closed reflexively over the space Warren had left, and pulled Warren's pillow tightly to him, nuzzling the pillow in such an adorable manner that Warren wished he was back in Scott's arms to be receiving such a cuddling.
Warren frowned. Cuddling. Snuggling. Comfort. Friendship. Support. Companionship. Scott was getting more than anyone else in Warren's life had ever received from him. And so much less. Most people just got meaningless sex from Warren. Warren had not so much as even attempted to kiss Scott Summers.
Warren sighed and put on a robe, absently brushing his shoulder-length blonde hair, while staring down at Scott's chiseled features. Warren had more with Scott than anyone in his life. Warren cared more about Scott than anyone in his life, including himself. Lately, with Scott and Jean's unresolved relationship, Scott had become Warren's lover in every way but sexual. Sex wasn't even brought up, though Warren thought of it on occasion. And then the dread that sex put in the pit of his belly, combined with the suspicion that Scott saw him only as a little brother replacement would wipe the thoughts from his mind. But on occasion, lying beside someone as attractive as Warren found Scott, on many other levels than mere sexuality, Warren found that snuggling with Scott only disturbed him.
Half-formed and oft-buried desire would surge through him like a foul green fire, and Warren would have to leave the bed, dark memories of sewer stench and an unwashed woman filtering unwanted into his mind. Desire, sexual want, became synonymous with Callisto and her torturous rape of Warren for days on end. Prior to his abduction, Warren was already homosexual, and his distaste for Callisto's gender only added to his disgust and horror at being raped. Even though Scott was a man, Warren retained the fear of being dominated, tortured and forced to have sex. The act itself was now tainted by the sick, twisted pain Callisto forced on him. Warren could not even masturbate without becoming ill and hysterical. The one time he tried, he spent five hours in the shower until Scott forced him out, drying him off gently, dressing him, and staying with him until he calmed down and stopped whimpering like an animal.
Which is why Warren left the room. Regardless of how Scott felt about the matter, even if Scott wanted him, Warren was not able to separate his pain from his pleasure. He was not ready to deal with sexuality, not with less than two months spent to recover. And Warren would never associate someone he loved as much as Scott with something he found so terrifying and repugnant.
Slippers on feet, and robe around waist, Warren trudged down the labyrinthine hallways of the mansion. He could probably wake up the Professor, even this late at night, but he didn't want to talk about his problems. He just wanted to think through them on his own.
The sound of metal blinds fluttering in the breeze reminded Warren of chains jingling in the darkness. The bracelet on his wrist reminded him of handcuffs binding him to a soiled, metal-framed bead. The necklace he wore reminded him of the spiked collar around his delicate throat, attached to the jangling chains...
Warren abruptly ripped both necklace and bracelet off, oblivious to the fact that they were only recent gifts from Scott. He fell against a wall, leaning against it desperately, sweating for no reason, his blue eyes darting wildly along the hallway. This was not going to be an easy night for him.
Warren wandered down a few more hallways, leaning against the wall for support, trying to breathe and force away the irrational fear. More than once, he considered jumping out the nearest window, and flying away until his wings refused to work, and letting himself fall miles back down to the ground...
The sound of soft, adolescent male crying startled him out of his misery.
Alert, feeling the fear recede, and the memories of pain and darkness fading from his mind again, Warren cautiously made his way in the direction of the crying, noting he had somehow wound up very close to the boy's hall.
Huddled up near one of the windows, framed by the moonlight, was the unshapely form of Fred Dukes, crying softly into his pudgy arms.
"Fred?" Warren asked gently. It was odd, how the teenagers he was sure he was going to hate became as stabilizing a force to him as Scott.
The over-weight boy's head shot up, tears streaked down his face. He flushed in the moonlight, looking ashamed and embarrassed.
"What's wrong, Fred? Are you hurt?" Warren asked, stepping closer to the boy, hoping his previous terror was not still evident in his face.
Fred looked at his French and business teacher dubiously. "Hurt?" he gave a bitter laugh. "I'm invulnerable. I found that out when my father hit me with a baseball bat for getting fat when I was thirteen."
Warren stared seriously at the youth, drawing his robe around his tightly. "There are more ways than just the physical to hurt someone, Fred," he replied.
Fred bit his bottom lip. "I gained ten pounds. Not even Dr. Grey knows when I'm going to stop gaining weight. I already weigh three hundred, Mr. Worthington. I'm just a stupid, fat, slow fuck. Ask anyone. They'll tell you," he said darkly, his face a mask of pain.
Warren stared at him. Fred was at one end of the spectrum, and he at another. Warren was ungodly beautiful, and he knew it. Whereas his mutant genes made him physically perfect, it made Fred fatter every day. Warren didn't know what it was like to be pointed at and laughed at. Or be whispered about behind your back, or picked last for every team. Until recently he hadn't known what it was like to be an outcast, and certainly didn't know what it was like to be undesirable. And yet...
"Who told you that, Fred?" Warren asked gently.
Fred turned his face. "Dominic," he spat. "But he's right. He's always right. Dominic, he's got muscles bigger than the Wolverine's. He's from Greece, you know. He was an all-star soccer player until his mutant powers surfaced and he accidentally caused an earthquake that killed half the people in the stadium."
The sports jock, ever popular, always right in the mind of an outcast. Fred obviously idolized the burly Dominic, envious of the other boy's fitness, and physical prowess. Dominic probably didn't even realize how much he hurt Fred's feelings. Warren had learned Dominic was insensitive, and boorish, but not necessarily cruel. Just self-absorbed, and picking on Fred made him feel better about his own short-comings. Warren knew the type intimately.
"And you? Where are you from, Fred?" Warren asked, wondering what he was supposed to say. He sat down beside Fred, letting his wings stretch out.
"New York... unlike most of 'em here, I was glad to find out I was a mutant. At least then it gave my father a real reason to hate me," Fred said darkly, staring out the window.
"At least yours had emotions for you. The moment mine found out I was a freak, he hired an assassin to kill me," Warren said bitterly.
Fred looked over at him, mildly surprised. Warren had yet to speak of his past to his students, and they found him as mysterious as Wolverine. "That's rough. Mine only beat the shit out of me when he was drunk," Fred smirked.
"What about your mother?"
"Too drunk and too high to bother with me. Yours?"
"Too self-absorbed to bother with me, unless she was showing me off at a party, of course."
"We have something in common," Fred noted with mild amusement.
"We have a lot of things in common, I think. Nobody ever judges us for ourselves, always judging us by our appearances. Do you know I used to be a rich, selfish bastard who was more interested in himself and his money than anything else? I would have been one of those stupid, mean bastards who picked on you for no other reason but to make myself feel better about my own empty life," Warren said, staring at the large boy's face, seeing a glimmer of good looks there, long forgotten and well hidden by folds of fat.
Fred blinked. "Why'd you change?" he asked.
"I had a humbling experience before I came here. And because of that, someone pointed out to me that looks and wealth mean nothing. Someone proved to me that some people don't care what you look like, and can actually like you for yourself, no matter what," Warren whispered.
"Mr. Summers is a great guy, ain't he? He saved me from having to join a circus, to become part of the freak show just to eat. He saved most of us, you know. Even Rogue, though you'd never know it the way she goes on about Wolverine. He pulled her out of a burning car. He rescued Kitty before she wound up in one of the mutant concentration camps. He pulled Jubilee out of a mall before the feds could, when she blew up an arcade game she was playing with her powers. He saved Dominic from the angry crowds. He saved Bobby from starvation, and St. John from the Brotherhood. He's saved us all. I guess you're just like us, Mr. Worthington. We all owe something to Mr. Summers. He may not be the only X-Man, but he's the first one in, and the last one out," Fred said with a smile.
"Warren," the blond angel smiled. "How many times do I have to tell you, Fred? My name is Warren. And you're probably right, Fred. Just like you, I'm one more little brother Scott rescued from a terrible fate."
Fred looked at the man beside him with impossible wisdom. "No, Mr. Wor-Warren. You're not one of Mr. Summers' little brothers. You're his best friend. He needs you. You make him happy. I can tell," Fred smiled.
Warren blinked and then smiled. "And you, Fred, you are a very wise young man. Both wiser and smarter than me. And far more comforting. You will be a great man one day. Don't let something as stupid as how you look bother you. Anyone worth your time can see past that," Warren said and kissed Fred on the forehead before standing up.
Fred looked up at the angel in shock. Rogue was more likely to be kissed than he was. He smiled, and his face lit up. And for that moment, Fred was a very beautiful young man.
"Get some sleep, Fred. Good night," Warren smiled as he headed back to his room, knowing he could rest now comfortably beside Scott, and the nightmares wouldn't even be so bad tonight. He was Scott's best friend. He was important to Scott. And that thought made him happy and safe.
"Good night, Mr.-Warren. Sweet dreams."***
"Stupid little faggot. How can you stand it, Jeanie? He's fucking sleeping in the same bed as that little pansy angel boy."
"He's not cheating on me, Logan. I would know. Now please drop it."
Scott walked into the dining room ahead of Warren, working his jaw. Warren sighed, knowing that the comments they both heard from the hall would only make things worse between Scott and Logan. And indeed, when Warren came in a moment later, he noted that the tension between Scott and Logan was particularly thick this morning. Jean was studiously trying to ignore them all.
Everything about Logan seemed to rub Scott the wrong way. The way he talked, the way he walked, the way Logan looked at him. It was even worse than Logan's animal magnetism that attracted women but irked men. Whatever it was, Scott obviously made it personal, which was odd for someone like Scott. Logan took everything personally, so that was no surprise. But it seemed to Warren like Scott took offense when Logan *breathed*.
Warren sat down beside Scott, wondering exactly why the X-Men's leader hated Wolverine. There was no other word for it, but hate. It was as if Logan had done something wrong, and Scott had yet to forgive him for it. And this morning was particularly bad, thanks to Logan's comments.
Warren had discovered that while Scott was emotionally repressed, he still managed to be a moody little bastard. And despite Warren's dislike of Logan, he often could attribute the infamous arguments between Scott and Logan to Scott's attitude. It was as if Scott *wanted* to piss Logan off. Which was almost suicidal, as far as Warren saw it.
The day before, Warren had been sword-training with Logan in the danger room, and quickly learned how fast and truly dangerous Wolverine was. Warren had several years of sword-fighting under his belt, a fascination and a hobby he had picked up. But Logan was far better, on the level of an ancient samurai. And the praise from Logan on Warren's own skill with a blade was a source of pride to Warren. Compliments from Wolverine to anyone were unheard of, unless one was Jean Grey.
The past three nights had been better for Warren, but nightmares persisted, and most nights he would wake up screaming, to be held and comforted by Scott until it was time to wake up. Perhaps the lack of sleep on both their parts was causing Scott to act on edge.
Professor Xavier's voice caused Warren to focus back on the conversation. "I personally think the young men need a boy's day out as well. You, Jean, and you, Ororo, have taken Rogue, Jubilee, Kitty, and a few of the younger girls on many excursions of late. I think the boys are feeling left out. They've been cooped up in the mansion for the past three months, since the time they helped St. John burn the boathouse down. I shall lift their restrictions. Scott, would you and Warren like to escort our young men out today? Perhaps to the mall so they can spend their allowances, and a movie? Perhaps the latest fantasy one, with all the swordsmen and wizards?"
"Sounds like a great idea, Professor. I'm sure they'd love a chance to get out. Alright with you, War? Feel up to hanging out with teenagers in a public place?" Scott asked, turning to his best friend.
"Huh? Sure, sure. With which teenagers?" Warren asked distractedly, staring at his food. Anxiety filled his mind, but he tried to shove it away.
"Bobby, St. John, Fred, Dominic. Your class. You don't have to come if you don't want to, Warren," Scott said gently, calming Warren with a few words and a compassionate touch to the shoulder.
"It's okay. I'd like to get out. And I like all those boys," Warren smiled, relieved to know it would just be the four he was familiar with.
Logan snorted and muttered something under his breath at Warren's comment. Scott heard it, and turned his face towards Logan, somehow managing to convey a reproving look. Logan's smirk faded under Scott's glare.
"I shall let them know telepathically. You two finish your breakfast. They'll meet you in the garage in an hour," the Professor said, ignoring all the negative emotions flying about his table.
Warren and Scott rushed through their scrambled eggs and toast, and quickly ran up to their room to dress appropriately. Warren forced Scott to wear some of his new clothing, and took the full hour to dress himself. Warren wanted to look perfect.
They wound up being late for meeting the boys in the garage, but the teenagers didn't seem to mind. They were all too gleeful for a chance at escaping the mansion for the day. Both Bobby and St. John were gleaming in trendy perfection, Dominic still managed to look cool in a sports shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, and Fred was grateful to have found clothes that fit him since his overnight growth spurt. Luckily for him, it was not his weight that increased, but his height. Fred now towered over the other boys.
"Alright, hop in the Blazer. And no fighting over seats," Scott said, opening the doors to the large SUV.
"Fred takes up two!" Dominic complained.
"And yet, he still manages to smell better than you. Don't they believe in deodorant in Crete?" St. John asked, wrinkling his nose at Dominic.
"Fuck off, you little faggot. You and your little boyfriend Bobby want to share the backseat so you can take turns sucking each other off?" Dominic sneered.
"Do. NOT. EVER. Use. The. Word. 'Faggot'. In. My. Presence. Again. Understand?" Warren hissed dangerously, and all four youths turned to him in mild shock. Never had they seen Warren look upset, and his eyes were practically glowing in anger.
"Yes, sir," Dominic blinked, swallowing slightly as the smaller and slender man glowered at him.
Scott put a hand on Warren's shoulder. "Dominic, we teach tolerance for everyone here. How can you expect to go out into a world that hates and fears you, and demand their respect and understanding, when you yourself are prejudiced?" he asked gently. Warren took a deep breath, calming his emotions.
Dominic hung his head. "I was just kidding, Mr. Summers. I don't have any problem with gay people. Honest. I just... didn't think..." he said quietly, looking genuinely ashamed.
"It's alright, Dominic. I know you don't understand that what you say hurts people. It's not Fred's fault he's overweight. His mutant genes increase his size. And though St. John and Bobby are nothing more than good friends, it's none of your business if they are or aren't. Now, let's go," Scott said firmly.Warren's eyes flickered over St. John's face as Scott spoke. Did St. John and Bobby snicker at the comments about them being nothing more than friends, or was it his imagination?
The boys trudged in, Fred looking mildly vindicated at Scott's words. St. John and Bobby indeed sat together, whispering to each other conspiratorially, as they always did. Warren often wondered what two boys had to whisper about so much.
Scott drove off, ignoring the boys' protests about what radio stations they wanted to listen to. Scott put on the alternative station, which seemed to please St. John and Bobby at least. Warren leaned back in his chair, feeling the hump of his wings rub against the upholstery through his shirt and jacket. He closed his eyes, letting the last of his anger drip off of him, listening to the boys' conversation, which Scott occasionally got involved in. He sounded so much older than them, even though in reality, he was only eight years older than the youngest of them, Fred.
They reached the mall in decent time, the six of them piling out, and arguing immediately about where to go. Scott and Warren immediately lost control, and the four teenagers dragged them off across the entire mall, stopping in the videogame store first.
"We'll wait for you in the book store across the way," Warren said cheerfully, getting annoyed by the loud beeps and flashing lights in the videogame store. He had never found video games interesting.
Scott reluctantly pulled himself away from the Playstation games, and followed Warren into the bookstore. Warren almost immediately relaxed, heading to the Science Fiction and Fantasy section. Scott followed, perusing the selection, obviously as much a fan of the genre as Warren.
However, when Scott pulled out Alan Dean Foster, and Warren pulled out Mercedes Lackey, they realized while they shared common interests, they didn't like everything the same.
"Read the Harry Potter books?" Warren asked idly.
"Nah. I like something a bit darker. Like Tolkien."
"You should try them. They're actually really kinda cool."
"Too childish."
"The movie has Alan Rickman in it."
Scott perked up in interest. "Rickman? I love him. Great actor."
"I love him, too. Plays the dour Potions Master, Professor Snape. Try the books. I'll read Tolkien if you read Rowling," Warren smiled, holding up the Harry Potter collection.
"Alright, I cave. But you better read all these books. And no skimming," Scott smirked, holding up the Tolkien collection.
Warren smiled. "I like reading, Scott. You're not talking to Logan here," he snorted.
Scott frowned at the mention of the other man's name, and Warren wondered if Scott's resistance to letting Jean go was more a refusal to let Logan have her than a desire to keep her for himself. But then again, even though they hadn't made any serious moves on each other, Scott and Jean had been found talking and laughing more over the past week. And to Warren's irritation, he even saw them kiss. He honestly had no idea whether the couple was coming or going. Literally.
"Well, let's go buy these and head back to the videogame store. You wrinkle your nose now, but wait until I show you the graphics of Final Fantasy X. Broaden your horizons," Scott grinned, dragging Warren to the cashier.
Warren acquiesced, and followed Scott over to the videogame store, and found himself interested despite himself by the advances in videogames. However, all the loud beeps from the other games, and all the boys shouting at each other made his head hurt. Scott forced their four charges to make their purchases, and literally had to drag Bobby and St. John away from Tekken Tag.
Warren and Scott led the boys down the main strip of the mall, heading towards a sandwich store for lunch. Warren's mood was drastically improving, as he laughed at Bobby and St. John's impersonations of the martial artists from Tekken. The group casually passed under the huge skylight on the mall, big enough to cover the huge center of the mall.
And then..."Mr. Worthington!" Fred screamed, and Scott grabbed at his visor as Fred pushed Warren into him, knocking both of them to the floor. The sounds of rapid fire gunshots rang out at the same time, and Scott saw the horror in Warren's face as Fred took every bullet into his flabby flesh, grimacing in pain.
"FRED!!!" Warren screamed, crawling out from under Scott, only to be grabbed by the larger man and held back.
Fred smiled at Warren, and then took a deep breath and exhaled. The bullets popped out of the folds of his fat, and Fred looked relieved. "They can't hurt me, Mr. Worthington," he said calmly, turning around and facing the shooter.
People were screaming madly, running in terror from the center of the mall. Scott shoved Warren behind him, and the group stared at a tall, pale woman in black.
She smiled unpleasantly, sending chills down Scott's spine. The black diamond tattoo over her left eye, and her cold, hard, white face reminded him eerily of Callisto's dead face. She loaded her gun lazily, watching them all very carefully. Scott had his hands on his glasses, and was motioning for the three non-invulnerable boys to stay behind him. Scott lifted his glasses slightly to shoot a warning shot at the woman's feet, startling her mildly.
"Drop the gun, or you're dead, woman! Who are you and what do you want??" Cyclops shouted.
"The name's Domino, for what it's worth. What I want is the pretty little angel behind you," she said coolly, her voice sharp and sultry, lazily dropping her gun and putting her hands up.
Scott sucked in his breath. "Lady, I don't know where you found out about him, but you have exactly one minute to get out of here before I take my glasses off. I'm no murderer, and unlike you, I give fair warning," he growled, gripping Warren around the wrist tightly.
"Compassion is for fools, Cyclops. And I'm not here for you. Hand over your little boyfriend with the wings, and I'll let you all live," she said calmly.
"What's going on? This is crazy!" Dominic whispered, his eyes darting around furtively, obviously scared.
"And how exactly do you think you, alone, are going to kill any of us?" Scott hissed.
"My mutant powers are a funny thing, Cyclops. You see, things *always* fall into place for me. And incidentally..."
The skylight burst downwards on the six mutants, showering them in a downpour of glass and metal. Scott grabbed Warren and then jumped to the side, avoiding the dangerous shards of glass. Dominic, St. John and Bobby did the same. The few pieces that hit Fred bounced right back off.
Several mutants jumped down from the gaping hole that was once the skylight. A man whose very flesh formed huge blasters from his forearms, and a huge creature with chalk white skin, and glowing yellow eyes rocked the ground as they landed. A purple-haired woman in a violet ninja suit leapt downwards beside a cat-like woman covered in brown fur with a long, swishing tail, reminescent of a lioness on the hunt. A handsome blond man in an odd black catsuit with a white circle on his chest was levitated down by a green-haired beauty, alongside a small girl with black hair and big blue eyes.
"...I'm not alone," the pale woman in black grinned viciously, and quick as lightning, she grabbed her gun from the ground, and started shooting wildly at Warren. Fred was able to block most the shots.
"Stay down, Angel!" Cyclops shouted, trying to sweep his optic beams towards the pale woman, but she was damn quick. He fumbled for the emergency visor he always kept on him, putting it on to gain more control over his powers.
"Down?? Are you insane?? I need to be up!!" Warren cried, throwing off his jacket. With a loud ripping sound, his wings tore free from his shirt, and with a great swing of his powerful white wings, Angel took flight, nimbly dodging bullets and power blasts from the man with a gun for an arm.
"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!!!!" St. John screamed, pulling out his lighter, and flicking it desperately. A great burst of flame came forth, and creatures formed out of the fire surged into the fray, buffeting the flying green-haired girl.
Shards of ice started flying around from Bobby, whose blue eyes were wide in terror as the mutant assassins swarmed downwards. The ground began to shake, and Dominic arched his back, his brown eyes wide as the earth began to move, throwing everyone off their feet except Fred, who miraculously stayed standing, determined to block as much damage as he could to his friends.
Things were rather chaotic, to say the least.
The hulking white creature lumbered up to Fred, growling horribly. "You in Caliban's way," he growled, and punched Fred as hard as he could. The punch could have toppled the Eiffel tower.
Fred stood his ground, without even a trickle of blood to show for it. He smiled. "Sorry 'bout that, chum. Here, let me show you the way out," he said nastily, and punched Caliban in the jaw.
Caliban landed somewhere in the clothing department of Sears. The remaining shoppers screamed and ran out. The sound of distant sirens could be heard.
Cyclops found himself trading shots with the man with the gun for an arm. He seemed able to take most of Cyclops' optic blasts, and only the momentum of the blasts affected him, knocking him off balance. Cyclops had a singed bicep, but he was too busy trying to keep the assassins away from Warren to care.
Warren was nimbly dodging all attacks, swooping in the air as graceful as an eagle. A well-placed kick by him knocked the fur-covered cat girl back down on the ground when she tried to leap at him, her claws aimed for his throat.
Winged fire dragons swooped towards the emerald-haired girl who was magnetically or telekinetically hefting a metal sign stand to toss at Warren. She screamed, her hair burning and crisping as she barely managed to escape St. John's attack.
"Polaris!!" the handsome blond man screamed. Incredible bursts of plasma energy came from his hands, slamming into St. John, who cried out and fell back.
Razor-sharp ice shards spun towards the blond man, who took one in the thigh until he started to blast them with his energy bursts. A wall of metal was created in front of him, preventing the ice shards from hitting him.
"Havok! Are you alright??" Polaris screamed, ignoring Warren completely, who swooped past her to avoid more of Domino's gun shots.
"Fine! Capture the target! Remember our mission!" the blond man growled. On the other side of the metal barrier, Bobby helped St. John up.
The violet-haired ninja sprang with incredible grace over Dominic, as he shook the ground around them. She eyed him carefully as everyone was rocked around on their feet. The building was starting to shake and quiver, a sure sign of impending collapse. Warren tossed shards of glass at her, but she easily dodged them.
"Random! What's taking you so long to ice Cyclops??" Domino yelled.
"Quick son of a bitch! And smart, too! Figured out his blasts don't work, so he's trying to cover for the mark!" Random cried, his lavender flesh rippling to form a gun on his other forearm. He shot Fred, which had as little effect as glass and bullets on the overweight boy.
"I must say, the mark's pretty quick in the air! Still haven't got a shot in!" Domino drawled lazily, smirking. "Enough play time!" she cried to her team.
Warren rolled around a barrage of bullets from Domino. The green-haired woman froze in the air, and seemed to concentrate on keeping the building intact. Since she seemed to be doing everyone a favor, she was left alone on all sides.
Random cried out in pain as the lower half of his body was trapped between the breaks in the floor, crushing his body. He groaned and leaned over, shooting wildly and hitting nothing. He passed out a minute later from pain, quickly bleeding to death.
Fred moved to block the plasma bursts directed at Cyclops, and everyone was so preoccupied they did not notice the beautiful Oriental ninja silently sneaking up behind Dominic. The plasma bursts shot past Fred, and hit Cyclops, who was thrown back, but strangely not hurt as badly as St. John, who had only received a quarter of the blast.
A purple blade of energy was unsheathed from Psylocke's hands, and she rammed her fist into the back of Dominic's head, the energy blade popping out of his face. He opened his mouth for a wordless scream, his eyes rolling back into his head.
"Sorry, about that, kid. You were a problem," the ninja spoke aloud, stepping over Dominic's writhing body. The ground stopped moving.
"Dominic!!!" Cyclops screamed, and aimed his blasts for the ninja, but she was far too quick to be hit.
Fred was moving as fast as he could, desperate to reach his friend. Warren swooped down to take out the ninja, but Havok's plasma blasts finally hit him, knocking him down on the ground and slamming him into one of the curio shops.
Dominic's chest rose and fell, a sign of life. Fred smiled in relief as he approached the burly youth.
Fiery beasts swooped towards the ninja, whose agility was now sorely tested. Ice shards arced towards her. The focus on the purple-haired woman was a huge mistake.
The cat-like woman bounded up beside the unconscious Dominic, grinning wickedly. "Ice him, Feral," Domino ordered, and took shots into the store Warren had fallen into.
Feral ripped Dominic's heart out, tearing a chunk off of the still-beating organ and swallowing. Blood dripped down her furry chin, and her yellow cat eyes gazed eerily at her opponents.
Cyclops screamed, and blasted her, but she jumped into the air with grace no human could ever possess. St. John and Bobby didn't even know what had happened, as St. John succeeded in firing the green-haired woman out of the air. She collapsed onto the ground, and the blond man rushed to her side, plasma bursts exploding from his hands as he went.
Time seemed to pause for everyone.
Fred stopped dead in his tracks, choking at the sight of Dominic's body.
Psylocke twisted and gaped at Feral, her lavender eyes widening in horror.
Domino stepped closer to Warren, grinning wickedly, her gun trained on the lithe winged form sprawled out on the floor.
Cyclops fell to his knees in shock and horror, his eyes drifting to Havok, who knelt beside Polaris.
Feral began to laugh, finishing her meal from on top of one of the pillars.
Caliban skulked back into view, growling angrily.
Havok looked up from the unconscious girl beside him, locking eyes with Cyclops. Blue eyes met eyes that once had been blue, and both men seemed to be lost in thought.
St. John cut loose, using the last of his lighter fluid to add to his fiery creations.
Bobby's body seemed almost covered in ice, and ice shards fell uselessly on the ground as he realized Dominic's fate.
Warren's hand slowly gripped the handle of a samurai sword that had been on display in the store, and he awaited the approach of his assassin.
And then time sprang back with a vengeance.
As Domino got in range, Warren leapt up with speed seemingly impossible for someone with huge wings on his back. He slashed her gun in half with the razor-sharp sword. She managed to escape with her hands attached by the powers of her luck only.
Wings buffeted her out of the room, and Warren burst out of the shop with sword in hand, his eyes falling on the dead body of one of his students. Rage twisted his perfect features.
Fred blinked, and he grabbed the approaching Caliban, lifting him up with impossible strength and tossing him across the room. His eyes fell on Feral, grief twisting his features as he watched the blood of Dominic's heart dribble down her chin.
"Psylocke!! No more games! Mindfuck them!!" Domino screamed. Warren was swinging madly at her with his sword, and she pulled out a second gun, but as long as Warren was flying, she couldn't tag him.
"But, Domino, there are so many minds! Things will get out of control and-"
"They already are out of control. Do it!"
A glowing purple mask seemed to form around Psylocke's face.
Warren screamed, high-pitched and terrible. The sword he held clattered to the ground, and he soon followed.
Cyclops gave a hoarse scream, clutching his head, and arching on the ground. Babbling nonsense poured from his mouth. Havok neared the brunette, his lips pursed in... sympathy?
Bobby fell back as Feral pounced him, kicking him away from St. John. The youth's body was covered in a thick layer of ice, which prevented Feral's vicious claws from piercing his flesh. The air grew cold in the mall and Bobby's screams joined the others'.
Fred remained silent, and as immobile as ever. He threw his head back and stared listlessly up into the sky, the pain in his head beyond words. Tears poured down his face.
But it was St. John who suffered the worst of all, his mental defenses the weakest. His own fiery beasts attacked him, swooping through his body. He stood still, crying in pain as his immunity to fire was slowly shattered by the telepath in his head. Over and over again, his own fire monsters attacked him. St. John could do nothing but stand still, arms spread wide, part of him desperately trying to regain control. But his immunity was slipping, and his blood began to boil. His clothes burned and his skin began to smoke.
St. John Allerdyce was burning from the inside out.
And then Cyclops stood up.
Psylocke cried out, as the X-Men's leader asserted his mental domination, forcing past her telepathic attacks, and breaking her control over his friends by drawing as much of her powers into his own mind as he could take. Scott Summers, Cyclops of the X-Men, was not the team leader because of his good looks and powerful optic beam. Professor Xavier had named Scott leader, because Scott alone had the strength of will and mental strength to resist any attack, even one of the mind.
Domino's smirk faded, and she realized that something was definitely going wrong. She tried to grab Warren and make off with him, but three adamantium claws blocked her way.
"Bad idea, lady. May not like the li'l angel, but the ol' canuckle head don' take lightly to some hussy making off with him. This is some bad shit you threw down. Allow me to throw it right back at you," Logan hissed, and his claws swooped towards Domino.
Again, she should have died, but Domino fell back into one of the crevices that had been created by Dominic's mini-earthquakes. The adamantium claws missed her by a hair, quite literally.
Warren swooped back into the air, dodging the blasts Havok threw at him. Fred shook himself out of his stupor, and grabbed Feral by the tail as she made a move for St. John, swinging her around and slamming her into a wall with all his strength. The satisfying crack of her back breaking made him smile viciously.
And St. John screamed, the telepathic worm of destruction still in his head.
"Johnny!!! JOHNNY!!!" Bobby screamed, running towards his best friend, his tether to humanity...
There was no flash of power. There was absolutely nothing as Cyclops reached out along the link Psylocke had created between their minds and sucked her telepathic mindworms and her timebombs meant for St. John back into his own mind, to work them out himself. With mental strength that rivaled Charles Xavier's, Cyclops broke her connections, and slammed her mind shut. He used her own powers against her.
Psylocke coughed and sank to the ground, smiling for some strange reason.
Domino was fighting a battle she was going to lose. Wolverine was better than she was, far better. Not even a woman who had the ability to make things fall into place for her could match Logan's fighting skill, apparently.
"Lila!! Get us out of here now!!" Domino screamed to the little girl who had been sitting calmly on a bench the whole time, only moving to avoid a stray attack. A yellow glow surrounded the mutant strike team, and with a flash they were all gone.
But the damage had been done.
"Johnny??? Johnny!!" Bobby cried when he reached his best friend. He reached out and grabbed his friend, pulling the pyrokinetic against his icy body.
The heat melted his ice armor and stung his flesh, but Bobby hung on. The fire monsters froze into ice where they stood, and Bobby encapsulated his friend in ice.
Bobby cried and gulped, hugging the cooling body tightly against him. He poured every ounce of power he had into his dearest friend, to save St. John's life.
Fred collapsed to his knees beside Dominic's torn body, crying in huge gulps. He took the burly youth's hand, cradling in his own. Scott knew Dominic had never been the nicest to him, nor the most understanding, but he was still a friend. He was another mutant lost, seeking his way beside them all, searching for his place in the world. Even Fred had known Dominic meant no malice. He was insensitive, and occasionally cruel, but Dominic was one of the good guys. And now...
...now Dominic was dead.
Warren landed beside Scott, staring down at his best friend, tears pouring down his beautiful face. Scott didn't move, just sat huddling up against himself, crying like a small child.
"The Professor sent me ahead of everyone else. The rest of the gang will be here in a minute. Xavier is telepathically detaining the cops. What the fuck is going on here? What happened??" Logan growled, approaching Cyclops.
"Get away... oh God, please... get away..." Scott moaned. Inside his mind was the telepathic destruction meant for all of them. And he was trying desperately to disarm the telepathic timebomb before it went off in his head.
"Scott? Scott, are you alright? What's wrong?" Warren asked gently.
"Yo, Cyke, get a hold of yerself. Tell me what happened..." Logan said angrily, getting closer.
And then the telepathic timebomb went off.
Cyclops screamed like a small child, his head thrown back as he arched. Logan's claws instinctively unsheathed at the same moment Scott swung his hand back at Logan in misplaced rage. The claws went through Cyclops' hand, and Logan began to scream, his eyes lighting up in purple for a moment.
"Scott!!" Warren cried, touching Scott's shoulder. His scream joined the other two, as his blue eyes glowed purple.
A telepathic timebomb is meant to destroy your mind, by destroying your memories, and eventually frying your synapses. Scott had brought the full brunt of Psylocke's telepathic attack inside himself, in order to save his teammates' minds. He could neutralize the attacks by methods Professor Xavier had taught him, and by his own force of will. But mental neutralization is delicate work, and time-consuming. Cyclops had ran out of time.
But Scott had been able to block most of the damage with his own mental defenses, so instead of destroying his mind, it merely released buried emotions, and memories best left forgotten. Causing Scott to relive the most painful memories of his life. And it sent out empathic shockwaves through touch when telepathic bomb went off. So now both Logan and Warren were forced to witness Scott's memories.
Darkness consumed them all.Two very young boys huddled together in a bed, surrounded by darkness.
One was obviously older than the other, being the larger one. His mop of brown hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his large blue eyes stared fearfully at the door. Beside him, the smaller, younger blond boy quivered and whimpered, the same blue eyes large with the same fear.
It was safer, they thought, if they slept together, in the same bed. Maybe he wouldn't come tonight, knowing they were together. When he came, he liked to take only one of them, alone, singled out. There was safety in togetherness, in huddling beside your brother. Or so they thought.
The doorknob twisted, and the toy box they had placed in front of the door only slowed its opening, causing the dark-haired man who entered to curse. He smelled of alcohol, and eyed the boys who shrank beneath their blankets in distaste.
"Little faggots. Already sharing beds and fucking each other, are ya? Little pieces of shit," the man growled, and ripped the blankets off their small, shivering forms.
"Please don't hurt Alex, Daddy. Please. Just me," the brunette boy cried out, sitting up and covering his little brother with the pillow. The blond began to cry softly.
"Awww. How fucking sweet. Love yer brother, do ya, Scotty? Rather me mess with you than him, eh?" the man growled maliciously.
"Yes," the older boy said quietly.
"Shame. Jus' cuz you said that, now yer gonna watch what I do with yer li'l baby brother," the man laughed cruelly, and reached out and yanked the small blond boy towards him.
The brunette began to scream, trying to pry his brother out of his father's hands, only to be beaten for his efforts. He tried to shut his eyes at the sound of his father's zipper opening, but a sharp cry from his brother and a threat from his father forced him to open his eyes, and watch the degradation and humiliation of his brother, the only stable force in his young life. It was bad enough when it happened to him, but somehow, watching the pain on his brother's features made him want to die. Made him want to kill his father.
Down the hall, lying in her darkened room, his mother lay quietly, watching television and trying to ignore her son's screams.In the only act of true motherhood Kate Summers ever showed, she shoved her two sons out of the burning plane with the only parachute. Perhaps she knew she deserved to die for her sins. Her sin of ignoring what her husband liked to do to his sons almost every night.
Scott Summers clung tightly to his brother, fearful and confused, as his mother shoved him from the plane. The sight of her sobbing as the plane dove down, and the sight of his drunken father cursing over the controls that refused to work were the last he ever saw of his parents. He never missed them.
But the winds were strong that night, buffeting the young boys around roughly, catching the parachute. Scott's thin arms couldn't compare to the power of nature, and a strong gust caused him to release his brother, dropping the boy thirty feet to the moss-covered ground. His parachute was dragged by the wind, and it caught on a tree several miles away, and over the state line. Scott fell to the ground, torn from his parachute lining, striking his head on a rock.
And when he woke a year later from his coma, he knew that he was the one who dropped his little brother Alex. It was the pain of the knowledge he had killed the only thing he loved in the beginning of his life that drove him to become what he was.
He could save a thousand lives, and they never once made up for the loss of Alexander Summers to him.The three men cast off the darkness.
Scott leaned over and began to sob even harder, his body shaking with relived grief and pain. Warren stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. His hand flew to his mouth at the realization of how similar he and Scott Summers really were.
Logan's claws retracted from Scott's flesh, and he swallowed, his muscular body trembling. Logan suddenly understood why Scott never trusted him, never liked him. Why Scott was angered by him, even hated him.
It was the voice. The walk. The talk. The macho attitude, and many of the things he said.
Logan reminded Scott of his father.
"Scott..." Logan breathed, his hazel eyes wide in compassion. Despite his attitude, Logan was not Christopher Summers. He had a heart.
Warren just stared at Scott, horror written across his face. Was there no mercy for any of them? Dominic's loss, and now this?
They heard the sound of the Blackbird, as the jet hovered over the deserted mall, invisible for all intents and purposes, thanks to the incredible mental powers of Charles Xavier. Ororo and Jean had come to collect them.
Scott was sobbing uncontrollably, rocking himself.
"Scott... they're here now. They'll be able to help you..." Logan said awkwardly, wanting to do something, anything to not have to understand Scott Summers' pain.
"No..." Scott sobbed. "Don't let them... don't let them... don't let them see me..."
"Scott...?" Warren asked gently, approaching his friend, the man he secretly loved, and not even the loss of Dominic mattered to him in the face of Scott's misery.
"Please... don't let them... let them see me... like this... please..." Scott moaned.
Warren understood. Scott wanted no one to know. It was bad enough he and Logan knew, but Scott didn't want the women, particularly Jean, to see him so weak. For Scott was all appearances, and desperate to remain the perfect strong male to any woman, particularly ones he knew. The need to be strong was ingrained into his being.
"No one will see you like this, Scott. No one. I won't let them," Warren whispered, and before Logan could blink, Warren scooped Scott into his arms and flew off with a great *whoosh* of his wings.Warren was gone with Scott, who was falling apart. Dominic was dead and...
Logan's eyes caught on Bobby Drake, who was cradling his best friend tenderly, sobbing copiously. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight, even when he smelled Jean, floating down from the hovering Blackbird. Logan stared blearily at the carnage before him, feeling helpless for the first time in the part of his life that he could remember.
"Help. Please help me, Dr. Grey. Please. Johnny won't wake up. I put him to sleep, and now he won't wake up..." Bobby sobbed.
Jean Grey turned her face, tears slipping down her cheeks. She grabbed Logan's shoulder for support, her head bowed.
A tear escaped Logan's eye.