Title: Past Relations

Author: Phoenix (Lina.inverse@verizon.net)

Website: no site

Rating: NC-17

Pairing/main characters: Magneto/Iceman, Sabretooth

Series/Sequel: unfinished, parts 1-4

Summary: A stranger comes to visit and the consequences will be far reaching. (Cue scary music! ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own X-men....I'm poor. This fic is for entertainment only.

Date: Apr 2002

Archive/distribution: CkoS and just ask....I'm nice. Probably say yes.

Warning: Violence, mention of NCS... evil people, cussing, mean X-Men... sort of. Bobby torture and I wrote it... Scary, ne?

__________________________________________________________

 

Past Relations

By Phoenix

 

Chapter One

She sat on the wall certain none of the X-Men could see her. The cloaking screen created a perfect reflection of the area behind her. And since she was downwind, Wolverine couldn't smell her. As long as she kept her emotions under control, the telepaths wouldn't detect a foreign presence. A perfect set up to watch the mutant group; yet Taliana Ven was not happy.

The X-men were playing a game called Basketball. It was something the young woman heard about, but had never seen. Each team vied for control of a small ball and tried to push it into one of two hoops. A waste of time where she came from. The uselessness of the game wasn't what upset the spy, however. No. It was the people playing.

All the mutants except Remy LeBeau ran between the lines marking the court. The man sat alone, on the sidelines, ignored by everyone.

Taliana tried to keep her anger under control, but the hypocrisy of the whole thing ate at her. The lithe mutant was being punished through ostracism by the very people who'd abandoned him to die.

Why the hell did he come back to them?

It was a question that he never answered, not even when she asked a hundred years in the future. The histories showed Gambit stood by the X-Men. No matter what. Logan once told her about the terrible things said and thought about LeBeau after his return. As an empathy, he must have felt some of them. The Cajun never complained. Nothing could be worth what he suffered.

She was no innocent; Taliana knew the red-eyed man worked for Sinister, but if anyone had a right to hate Remy for that it was her.

Not the people so carefully ignoring him. Hadn't the X-Men let the sick bastard go again and again? Allowing him to torment, torture, kill, and maim thousands of innocents. A fact conveniently forgotten at the "Trial."

Of all her "parents," only Remy had ever made her feel at home. He treated her like a real daughter. The bitterness and pain of his early life, though, often chased him away and into the Badlands for long periods of time. The last one, five months ago, had yet to end.

Causing the young female mutant to worry. Someday, she knew, the things in that place would take her father away forever.

A sudden stillness alerted the woman to a change in the game. Logan, Storm, and Psylocke were gone and Remy was playing. Cursing silently, Taliana quickly checked her cloak. While it was fine, the wind has shifted and blown her sent right toward the players. Logan must have noticed. Add to that the leakage of anger from her shields and the spying was over.

Slowly and carefully, the mutant lowered her mental walls enough to locate the missing fighters. She almost fell off her perch when she "saw" Wolverine not ten feet behind her. Psylocke twenty feet to her right and Storm hovered overhead, dark clouds following in her wake.

They thought to catch her by surprise. Something they might have done if not for the inclusion of Remy in the basketball game. It was too odd of a move not to alert anyone who knew the X-Men.

Smirking, the young woman leapt backwards off the wall, landing at the center of the triangle created by the three mutants. Her hand flew to the cloak's controller and for just a second, she turned it off, giving all her trackers a good look at their prey.

Before the assembled trio stood a young woman of about five and half feet. Her ice blue eyes burned with humor as her lips twisted into a sneer. Covering most of her body was amour like Gambit's and the intruder even wore a similar duster, black however. Skin as pale as Bobby Drake's graced high cheekbones that reminded everyone of Storm's but her face also held the strength of Wolverine. Her hair was lighter than Gambit's but darker than Jean's, somewhere in between the two and ran, in a lose ponytail, almost to her knees. Psylocke mentally sent her image to all the others as their target touched something on her belt and disappeared again.

"Bring her back unharmed," The Professor commanded telepathically.

Taliana almost laughed out loud. The man was sending an unshielded message. Did he think no one else would pick it up? Or maybe he thought that knowing the X-Men didn't mean to hurt her would make the newcomer more likely to cooperate. Whatever the reason, the cynical girl couldn't help but mock the man. She wasn't bound by any ideas of self-control. If she wanted to let loose with everything she had, there was nothing to stop her. Yet, those hunting her could not.

They'd be mincemeat in seconds where she came from.

It only took the running mutant a few seconds to reach the near-by forest, but the X-Men had anticipated the move and thick fog rolled in, covering the ground. No matter how good the cloak was, any movement would be revealed by the white cloud. The action showed a good grasp of tactics. Better than anticipated. The prey now had two choices.

Either take to the trees or stay absolutely still. Since staying still would do nothing to hide her from Wolverine, Taliana took shelter on a branch. Sending her senses out once more, the woman knew most of the X-Men had entered the forest. Wolverine about fifty feet up from her position and the others spaced out at ten feet above and below the feral man. A faint mental brush sent the hiding mutant's shields slamming closed.

Jean and Betsy were doing their best to find any Psy trail.

A quick look skyward showed Angel and Storm circling.

Looking around, Taliana knew there was no way she could stay put.

Someone was bound to find her eventually. In two hours, Gateway would open the portal home. If she avoided capture until then, nothing would prevent her return home. The only road open to her was to go deeper into the woods, so she took it.

Moving higher with every tree, the blue-eye creature still stayed below the leaves, avoiding detection by the flyers. After thirty minutes, she reached the center of the forest and paused to rest. A slight breeze pushed through the foliage and drew a muttered curse from the woman.

The wind was going to carry her scent right to Logan. Once he had it, she was done.

The blue of the mutant's eyes faded to white as a new, wild wind whipped across the ground. It twirled the fog and mixed with two other breezes coming out of nowhere. Combined with Storm's, the scent would be so confusing, Wolverine'd be at a loss for direction.

"Storm?" The Professor's voice broke into her mind again. "What are you doing? Logan almost had a lock on her."

"I am not doing this, Professor." The Goddess' confusion laced her words.

Listening to the exchange, Taliana didn't notice Cyclops sneaking up on her until he was already firing. Instinctively, she twisted to avoid the shot, but overbalanced and fell directly into the beam.

Howling in agony, the young mutant fell to the ground.

All the X-Men paused as a scream of pain ripped through the woods.

Immediately a mental babbled filled everyone's minds as Professor Xavier and the others tried to find out who was hurt and how badly.

"Professor," Scott's frantic voice cut above the others, boosted with his wife's help. "I meant to wing the girl, but she moved. I think you should send Hank to my location."

A snarl, mental and physical, froze the hunters. Cyclops turned to find his target standing where she'd fallen; her armor was torn and melted in a thin line along her stomach, but the wound was gone.

"Nice shot, Cyke," The mutant's mental voice hissed. "Almost had me down for the count."

"Young lady," The Professor began only to be cut off.

"Shut up, baldy." The young woman's anger beat at all those listening in. "I screwed up. I admit it. But if you think I'm that easy, you need more brain cells. I survived Sinister's Pain Pit. That was just a little tickle compared."

The name of Sinister set off another spate of frantic mental talk. The Professor tried to calm everyone down, but it was the new mutant who put an end to the conversation.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" It was a shriek, driving all from their feet. "Who do you people think you are? You have no right to be hunting me like this. I didn't do anything wrong. You want to play?" She suddenly locked into the X-Men's minds and forced them to see through Scott's eyes. "How's this for playing?"

Stunned mutants watched as three metal claws popped from the backs of her hands with a soft 'snick.' Then faster than Cyclops could track, the woman charged. The last thing any of Scott's allies saw was a close up of his opponent's furious face and then pain flooded the link before it broke. Jean's cry of denial filled the woods, telling Taliana her exact location. The young woman however simply dropped the unconscious form of Scott Summers and ran toward the other side of the forest. She'd made sure not to really hurt the older man. Not just because it would have changed history, but also because he really had been worried about hurting her. Few people cared about her feelings. It was nice to meet someone who did even when he couldn't know what she was or who. So, Cyclops might wake up with a bad headache, but nothing more.

Besides, all those trying to catch her would be running to his last known location. Making it easy to slip away. At least that was the plan. When the strange woman reached the edge of the forest, she was met with a sight that sent her once more into the trees.

Sabertooth was dragging a collared, bound, and gagged Bobby Drake toward a small, black plane. The younger man was being literally dragged behind the huge mutant who held a dog's leash, the end of which wrapped around Bobby's neck. His arms were fixed behind his back by thick manacles. Fear rolled off the blond and his eyes desperately sought any escape.

"Drake," Sabertooth growled. "You smell real good when you're afraid.

I'm surprised that punk Logan hasn't had your ass yet. Maybe I should loose you up for Magneto. Think he'll still keep his deal with Sinister if you're a bit torn up?" He smiled cruelly. "Inside and out."

Bobby frantically tried to pull away, but Sabertooth soon had him in a hug, bringing the terrified man's eyes level with a pair of sharp fangs. Taliana watched the whole thing with a profound sense of confusion. The histories said Bobby Drake stayed with the X-Men until the Great Battle. Of course, no one would talk about him after that.

Not to mention the implications of Magneto working with Sinister just didn't make any sense. Magneto had become an incredible and caring ruler; turning Genosha into a haven for all people. Why would such a man work with Sinister?

Unable to contain her curiosity, the pale woman slipped into Bobby's memories. The reason for his fear was close to the surface and she had no problem finding it; she just had a hard time believing it.

Apparently, when the X-Men had invaded Genosha and been captured, Magneto had ordered Iceman "questioned." Instead of taking the helpless mutant to a torture chamber, he was taken to the older man's bedroom.

Over the next two days, Magneto raped Bobby repeatedly.

However, each time, the white-haired leader made sure his prisoner enjoyed his attentions. He used his power and Drake's own body against the blond.

Coming very close to driving the captive mutant mad. By the end of a week, the young blond had been almost broken mentally and spiritually. Taliana reeled from the knowledge. Magneto was revered, almost worshipped, in her time. How could this be true? Had her being here messed with the timeline somehow? But that wouldn't explain the rape, which occurred before her arrival. Something was very wrong.

A whimper drew her eyes back to the present problem.

Sabertooth was running his tongue along Bobby's clenched lips, trying to force his way in; the trapped man had no way to fight back. The vicious creature then sent his hand questing in the younger man's pant, causing tears to well in blue orbs.

Rage clouded the woman's mind. She didn't care that this was meant to happen. Didn't care that she could change the future.

Nothing mattered but the young man who was being violated in front of her.

Her eyes tuned red as she dropped from the tree.

"Yo, fuzzy," She growled at Sabertooth. "Put the blond down." She popped her claws.

The monster dropped Bobby and smiled. "You want to play, little one?"

"Play?" She sneered. "I was thinking more along the lines of a fight, but whatever."

Growling, the two circled as their "prize" backed against a tree and wondered if things had gotten better or worse.

 

Chapter Two

Tal circled Sabertooth keeping her eyes focused on his. She forgot her past; her real name. Everything faded as the part of her that was a predator took over. Tal. For years, the feral bit of her soul kept her alive in Sinister's Pain Pits. Kept her whole. Now she drew on it to save a man she didn't know.

Bobby Drake sat to the side watching the growling pair act more like animals than humans. He desperately tried to free himself of the manacles. Something told him the walking wall of furry muscle wouldn't be so close to the X-men's home alone. Which meant he had to warn the strange woman. No one mutant could take on both Sabertooth and the Marauders and hope to come out alive.

Unfortunately, the young blond's fears were realized before he could take action. From behind the plane, a woman stepped into view.

Vertigo. Bobby tried to shout a warning, but the gag prevented him. All he could do was watch as the female fighter stumbled, then fell to the ground.

For Tal's part, the sudden dizziness was all the warning provided before the Earth shifted under her feet. She felt her fall and fought to regain her feet. Sabertooth wouldn't let a chance like this pass. At least that was what she thought. Instead, his angry voice cut through the spinning.

"What are you doing, bitch!" He roared. Tal let her head loll and could see a figure approaching. Vertigo. It had to be.

"I was going to fix the little cunt." The feral fighter continued yelling.

"And should I tell Sinister that only a few feet from completing our mission you paused to not only maul the prey, but to play with some pathetic mutant?"

Sabertooth's response consisted of animal noises.

"Just kill her and be done with it." Vertigo complained and turned toward the plane.

Tal closed her eyes and focused. From nowhere storm clouds gathered.

Thunder overrode the mutant killer's answer to the order.

"You want to fuck me with you half talented slut," Tal growled, regaining her feet. "You better be ready to pay the price!"

Lightning struck the ground all around the plane; one bolt even striking the balance destroying mutant dead on. The woman's scream shattered the silence even as the clouds began to clear. Both Bobby and Sabertooth gaped at the charred body and smoking aircraft. As one they turned to face the still swaying young woman.

"Who are you?" Sabertooth hissed. Claws like Logan and the ability to control weather like the witch? Maybe Sinister would give him a bonus if he brought him this little toy to play with.

"Someone who doesn't like rapist." The smile was back. The feral man felt a huge urge to wipe it off. "But you can call me Tal."

"Well, is anyone welcome at this little party?" A new voice inquired.

Tal glanced toward the plane to find three people jumping out of the wreck.

"Shit," she murmured. A sentiment echoed silently by Iceman. The newcomers were Manhunter, Harpoon, and Prism. "Can't fight your own battles, eh Fuzzy?"

"No need to waste time." Manhunter took over. "With the plane dead, we need to be moving on and don't have time to play with little girls. Besides, someone who has two such unique powers will be of great interest to Mr. Sinister."

"I don't care what Sinny wants. As for you, well you're just some trash that needs to be put away."

"As if an X-Man could do it." Prism scoffed.

Tal crossed her claws in front of her, letting just a little kinetic energy flow through them. The red became reflected by her eyes.

"Who said I was an X-Man?"

Then all of them were moving. Sabertooth launched himself at her, claws reaching for her heart while Prism tried to keep her from dodging by surrounding them with lasers. No one expected her to leap into the shower of light. Three made contact slicing open her right arm, leg, and left thigh. Bobby tried to call out to her as she collapsed in a heap. The muffled sounds he made drew Manhunter's attention and the larger man stalked toward him. Helpless, the blond scrambled back.

"That was simple," Prism laughed.

"Shut up and get the girl," Manhunter ordered, catching Bobby by the throat. "Keep struggling boy and I'll make sure you can't. I don't think you'd enjoy that much."

Tears gathered in Iceman's blue eyes. The fight was over. He was going back to Magneto. Back to be used again and again until the Master Of Magnetism tired of him and granted the oblivion of death. If only he'd been struck by the lightning earlier.

"Hurry up, Prism," Sabertooth growled. Not having been the one to take the girl down angered him terribly. For the first time he'd found an opponent besides Logan who might have been fun to play with. Sinister would want to test her abilities so at least he could enjoy that.

"She didn't live up to own press," the laser producer scoffed as he reached for her.

"Oh I don't know," Tal said softly as she slid her claws through Prism's chest. "Better late then never."

The remaining three men turned just in time to see those claws separate the mutant's chest down the middle. Harpoon was the first to react, but even that didn't save him. By the time he'd thrown his weapon, Tal already tossed him the body of his colleague. A body glowing with red energy.

The female mutant easily dodged the missile and took shelter behind a tree as what was left of Prism exploded destroying Harpoon and several feet of earth. Manhunter covered Bobby with his own body unwilling to face the punishment his master would mete out if anything happened to their captive. Sabertooth just stood. Nothing would make him cower.

When the dust settled, Manhunter carefully rolled off his captive looking for blood. Fear of Sinister lead to a mistake as Tal used his distraction to get close enough to kick him in the head. The killer barely grunted as he went down. The small sound, though, alerted Sabertooth. He took one look at his unconscious comrade and charged.

What followed was a battle Bobby Drake had a hard time following. Each fighter moved so fast. Metal against flesh. Strength against speed. That was what it came down to, the bound blond realized. Sabertooth was stronger, but Tal was faster. She had the agility while he had the strength. Not a great trade off. The woman would have to hit the feral man too many times. He would need only one blow.

The dance went on. Sabertooth slashing, Tal dodging, looking for any opening. Around the trees they slid. More like shadows than people.

Bobby got a clear look at the pair and could see blood coating Tal's arm and Sabertooth's shoulder. So far they seemed about equal. Neither able to overcome the other's advantage. The stalemate didn't continue for long though.

Tal stumbled over a hidden root and Sabertooth cried his victory as he sank his nails into her chest, just over her heart. The young woman remained silent as blood bubbled over her lips.

"Guess we know which is the better fighter now don't we, pet." The huge man laughed.

"Yea, we do." The impaled mutant gurgled. Her right arm came up and Sabertooth barely had time to see the lack of claws. Instead, a psychic spike appeared and she drove it straight into his forehead. Time seemed to pause. Both combatants stared at into each other's eyes. The serenity couldn't last.

Sabertooth's howl of agony shattered the silence. Bobby couldn't stop the shudder it caused. The man sounded so afraid and alone. However, the sound was short lived. The cruel killer collapsed, curling into a whimpering ball.

Tal stepped away from the man, the whole in her chest slowly closing.

"You OK, Bobby?"

He nodded. Thank God it was all over.

"Good." She tilted her head as if listening to something. "The other will be here in just a minute. It's time for me to go. I have an appointment to keep." Staggering north, the stranger savior suddenly collapsed. A knife appeared in her side. Manhunter stepped out from behind a tree. In the fight, he had been forgotten.

"Not bad, child," he praised, clapping his hands a little. "But not good enough. I think Master Sinister will be most interested in your genetic make-up. First, however, I think we should take care of that rebellious nature of yours."

So saying, the man reached for his belt and pulled out a collar.

"This should take care of everything."

Tal growled at his approach, yet did nothing more than attempt to crawl away. Manhunter grinned. A hungry, vicious thing. The prey was helpless and frightened; just the way he loved them. Behind them, Drake struggled to get free, seeing himself as the only hope the woman had.

Manhunter towered over the bleeding form of the exhausted fighter. "I wonder if you could be put on my team. I think taking the X-Men down would be so much simpler with you as one of my dogs."

Tal glared. "Maybe," she grated, the effort of speaking obviously costing a great deal. "But you won't live to see it."

With the last word, she surged upward, claws extended and tinged with red, eyes completely white. Bobby never knew what happened first. Whether the lightning struck Manhunter and then the kinetic blast tore him apart or if the blast was helped along by the powerful electric pulse. Either way, tiny bits of the former human showered the grass and trees. Tal was thrown backward, striking a large tree with an audible crack.

The blond mutant sat stunned for a second and then began trying to reach her. He thought he could see the shine of metal around her neck and feared what would happen if her healing factor was inhibited. Just as he made it close enough to hear her gasping breath, Storm, Hank, Jean, and Warren appeared.

Warren took care of his collar as the others rushed to the girl. She was whispering the same thing over and over in a tone of agony.

"Too much. It's too much. I can't handle this much."

"Shh," Jean tried to sooth while Hank noted all her injuries. "We're here now. Everything's going to be fine.'

For a moment, blue eyes cleared.

"Great," she groaned. "Now I'm really fucked."

The two women traded shocked gazes as the girl slumped, unconscious.

What did she mean?

 

Chapter Three

Hank sighed. Probably the fiftieth time in the last hour. The young mutant occupying his medical ward had turned out to be quite a mystery. From Bobby's description of the events, she used abilities only found in the X-Men. Worse yet, the girl used them to kill. Unacceptable by the group's standards, which was why Charles ordered the Genoshan Collar remain locked around her neck.

The move was something Hank could agree with from a security standpoint, yet as a Doctor, it was offensive. The wounds were severe, almost as if her own body tried to tear itself apart. If she really did have a healing factor, inhibiting it now was cruel. Indeed, the blue furred man didn't know if he could keep her alive without it.

Charles was adamant about the collar though. The telepath took images of the battle straight from Iceman's mind and sent them to the other team members.

Most reacted with disgust; horrified at how quick the newcomer was to kill.

Thus, almost everyone agreed keeping her powers dormant was wise. Their safety versus her life. A tough choice. Made far in too much of a hurry; following the events with Gambit, Hank had hoped everyone learned a lesson.

Such was not the case apparently.

Sighing yet again, the tired mutant put away his notes. Everything pointed to the girl being a creation; not born of any human or mutant. Who could do it? Who had the technology and know-how? One name jumped to mind, causing terror to run up and down the man's spine. Sinister. He made this young woman. Why? For no good reason. That much was a given.

A quiet whimper drew Hank to the bed. Tal, Bobby said she called herself that, lay wrists and ankles secured by standard hospital restraints. Despite not having regained consciousness, she fought being imprisoned; leading the furry scientist to believe this wasn't the first time she'd been tied down.
He strongly suspected the constant nightmares were because of her helpless state.

Gently, he pushed damp hair from her face. Instead of creating a sense of comfort, Tal flinched.

"No more," she gasped. "Please Hunter, no more."

Hank's blood boiled. Sinister and his minions caused suffering for too many. Someday, he needed to be stopped. Unfortunately, today was not that day. No, today should be used to clean up that monster's mess.

Filling a syringe, the Doctor watched the nightmare deepen. Twice before he'd tried to allow the dream to run its course; once with the Professor present to monitor her dreamscape. That time, her mental barriers kept all the psychics out and each time she struggled so hard stitches broke and wounds reopened. Since, Hank used a drug to keep her from dreaming. Now he injected her again.

Monitors indicated Tal's sleep became more peaceful and her struggles stopped.

"I wish there was more I could do for you, child." His deep voice filled the room. "However, I need far more answers before that can happen."

"Hank?" Jean's voice came from the intercom. "The Professor would like to speak with you about our guest."

Guest? More like prisoner.

"Very well, Jean." He responded. "I will be right there."

Checking over her chart, he noted the time of her nightmare, the medicine given, and what progress the patient made. If any. Without the healing factor, the mutant was weeks, maybe months from a full recovery.

Dumping his lab coat, Hank left Medical, questions still unanswered. Where had the new mutant come from? How had Sinister gotten her DNA stable? What was her purpose? And why had Sabertooth and the Marauders gone after Bobby?

The blond claimed he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. To Hank it felt like a lie. Time for that later. First the meeting with Charles and seeing about getting that damn collar off his patient and then he'd corner Bobby and get the truth.

On the other side of the Mansion, Bobby Drake sat in his own bathtub, shower turned on, letting the scalding water cascade over his already red flesh. Heat had never been one of the blond's favorite things, but right now the pain of being burnt was all that kept the feel of Magneto's hands at bay and
even that was working less and less.

It had been two days since the attack; each night he remembered the events of Genosha. The fear he'd felt as his hands were tied behind his back, knowing he was helpless with the collar cutting off his gifts. The terror of being thrown on Magneto's bed as the powerful mutant towered over him. The humiliation.

Bobby curled into a ball as the memories seized him. From the beginning, his treatment had been different. The guards separated him from the others, sneers on their faces. They'd dragged the bound man to a shower and given him the most through cleaning of his life. Why was only clear later.

From the shower, he had been dragged, naked, to a room with a large bed. A hard shove sent him staggering toward the bed. When he collided with the edge of the mattress, he fell backwards. With his arms pinned his balance was gone. Bobby had struggled for long seconds to stand up, only to feel
hands on his shoulders pushing him back down.

Staring up, Iceman locked gazes with the X-Men's most deadly enemy: Magneto. The blond stopped breathing. The image of Wolverine, the metal coating his skeleton pulled through his skin, filled his mind. What was the evil mutant planning for him?

The horror his imagination created caused all ideas of courage and fighting back to flee. All the blue-eyed man wanted to do was run. Kicking out, Bobby connected with the older man's stomach and started to roll for the other side of the bed. Half way to his goal, a grip fastened around his ankle, pulling back. A glance showed Magneto's expression twisted with fury.

"No," he'd screamed, terror sapping productive thoughts. The only thing on his mind was escape. But the bigger man was stronger and Bobby was drawn back.

"Keep struggling, Drake, and you will find I can inflict pain beyond anything you would believe possible." The words dripped menace and dark promise. The young mutant went still.

"Very good." And Magneto turned him over so he lay facing the leader of Genosha. "Beautiful." The man murmured, the words freezing his prisoner's blood.

Then the touches began. Like butterflies across his skin. Faint, soft, gentle, horrifying in what they implied. Bobby tried to move away, but what felt like a huge weight settled on him preventing even the smallest twitch.

The Master of Magnetism continued running his hands over the now sobbing fighter.

Magneto ordered him to quit crying. No harm would come to Bobby if he just behaved. Yet, the young man couldn't help his reaction. No fool, the slender man knew what was coming, knew he couldn't stop it, and the rage, fear, and helplessness found the only way to exhibit themselves: tears.

In the bathtub, the blond sank his nails into his flesh, drawing blood. The memories came faster and faster. The white haired man's idea of good behavior consisted of Bobby obeying his commands; sometimes though, the younger man couldn't and that did lead to pain beyond anything he'd thought could be visited on a person.

His voice grew hoarse from screaming before he had been able to bring himself to touch Magneto back when they "made love." He passed out twice before he ceased resisting the order to call his rapist "Eric" and to yell that named during sex. What made all the pain worse was the fact that during sex, the older man did everything to make certain the experience was the best of Bobby's young life. The agony felt for disobedience never came into the equation then.

Combined with lack of sleep and proper nutrition, the week of captivity left him confused. Magneto only caused pain when Bobby was "bad." The rest of the time, he felt complete ecstasy; at least physically. Mentally and emotionally, he couldn't sort out his feelings. What Magneto was doing was rape. Wasn't it?

He didn't want the other man to touch him. At the same time, it felt good.

Rape hurt. This didn't. By the time the X-Men managed to escape, Bobby had stopped fighting. The pleasure more welcome than the pain. So what did that make what happened?

The blond shuddered. If only he could tell someone.

He was probably lucky the other hadn't discovered the truth when they came looking for him during the escape. The explosions drew Magneto out of the room. Alone, but naked, the Iceman took what might be his only chance to get away. Guards found him, cuffed him, and left him in the closest room. It turned out to be an interrogation room. The soldiers even left him with a blanket.

When the X-Men found him, everyone just assumed the bruises and stiff pace were from constant torture. No one questioned him further. No one guessed where he'd really been and Bobby never volunteered anything. Now, maybe, he needed to tell someone.

Hank would listen. However, his furry friend would want to have one of the telepaths help him and that would reveal the secret that kept him silent. A secret sure to get him thrown off the team.

The first time Magneto had started touching Bobby, the slender mutant had tried to conjure images of someone else causing those gentle strokes. First old girlfriends, but since he knew how they moved, the trick didn't work. So then he attempted envisioning Betsy or Jean. Instead, what his mind provided were images of Logan or Remy. And the most terrible part was that thinking about either man touching him as Magneto did turned him on. The pair might just kill Bobby if they ever found out.

The Professor would be disgusted. Who knew how the others would react?

Scott wasn't that open minded. Hank might be able to accept it. But what about Warren? Or Jean? Storm? It terrified him what the others would do. Almost as much as going back to Magneto. The incident today proved the older mutant wasn't willing to let go. If he planned to remain free, staying in the X-Men was essential.

"Bobby?"

It was Remy's voice. Laced with concern and close. Turning off the water, the blond winced at the damaged the scalding water had done. Blisters ran along his back and sides. A few on his arms popped when he grasped the tub's edge to stand. The pain was fantastic. It cleared the blond's head. He had to get covered before the Cajun got here.

Just as he reached the towel, Remy opened the door. Startled blue eyes collided with shocked red.

"What have you done to yourself, Bobby?"

"Nothing," He all but growled. "I just lost track of time. That's all. No biggie. I'm fine." He tried to push past the taller mutant while covering the damage.

"Like hell," Remy hissed and grabbed Bobby's arm; only to have the slender form collapse.

"Bobby? Bobby?"

The frantic tone attracted Logan's attention. He only needed one sniff to detect the blood and fear. Blood from Bobby and fear from Remy. Not even bothering to ask, the feral man scooped up his fallen comrade and carefully placed him on the room's bed.

"What happened?" He growled.

"Jean sent me to find him. De' Prof has some questions. I found him in de tub. He done scalded himself."

"I can see that." Logan was so angry he couldn't think straight. Later he would think about why seeing Bobby hurt angered him this much. For now, the important thing was to find out why the beautiful blond was hurt. Did he just think beautiful? Those thoughts got pushed aside as Remy interrupted them.

"Why he do this to himself? You think ol' Toothy did more than just rough him up?" The rage Logan felt was echoed in the Cajun's tone and face.

"Don't know," the growl grew deeper at the thought. "But we need Hank here. Now. Then we'll get some answers. Either from Sabertooth or from that girl. Somebody is gonna give me a straight answer or else."

The statement was punctuated by Wolverine popping his claws unconsciously.

Next to him, Gambit's hands glowed a deep red. No one hurt Iceman and got away with it. Blood was going to flow.

 

Chapter Four

Pain. That was the first thing Bobby Drake became aware of after swimming back to consciousness. All along his back, arms, and sides. The second sensation was being carried against someone's broad chest. A whimper made it past his lips and he clenched his eyes tightly shut.

It had all been a dream. The rescue, the escape. All of it. He was still with Magneto and obviously done something to piss the man off. But what? For the first two days of his captivity, Bobby had fought the older mutant with everything he'd had. It hadn't done again good; the more powerful man raped him anyway. Again and again until the young blond didn't have anymore fight left.

At least, he thought those times had been rape; although he'd enjoyed the actual act. Magneto used Iceman's body to force pleasant sensations. Still, the sex was preceded by whatever struggle the smaller man could present and the agony resulting from the battle. That made it rape. Didn't it?

By the third day, he couldn't take the torture anymore; the sheer level of pain caused him to pass out more times than he cared to remember. It was too much. So whatever the white haired man demanded, Bobby did his best to give. Of course, there were times when the younger mutant couldn't bring himself to do what Magneto wanted. The reapplication of suffering changed his mind quickly enough; after he regained consciousness that is.

Right now, the amount of hurt he was feeling meant he'd screwed up again. If only he were stronger. Logan, Hank, or Remy, hell even Scott, wouldn't have given in. They wouldn't allow themselves to be used like this. They would have fought until Magneto killed them rather than let the bastard do this. But Bobby Drake wasn't strong. Just the thought of upsetting his captor terrified the blue-eyed mutant out of his mind.

Still, on the bright side, if there was one. Magneto never left any permanent marks. For all the immeasurable pain the man could inflict, the worst damage were bruises. Should the X-Men ever manage to get loose and save him, there were no strange wounds to explain. That's if. The longer he spent a prisoner, the dimmer hope grew.

'Just survive," Bobby reminded himself silently. 'Just survive and wait. The others will come. They will.'

For now, however, he needed to calm Magneto down. In his confused state, Iceman couldn't remember what he'd done to anger the older man, but there was one way to make him happier with his captive; over the past week it never failed to stop his rages.

"I'm sorry, Eric," he murmured softly. "I'll do better next time. I'll try harder. I promise."

However, once he choked the words out, they had the opposite effect. A deep growl emanated from the man holding him and his arms tightened their hold. The increased pressure drove spikes of agony through Bobby. When darkness moved to envelope the blond, he went willingly, wondering why the words hadn't worked.

Logan looked down at the slender, now unconscious, form in his arms, not wanting to admit hearing what had been so quietly spoken. A quick glance at Remy, though, and he couldn't deny it. The Cajun wore an expression of shock and dismay. Dark, deadly rage danced in red eyes.

"Dat don' sound good," the calm timber of his voice was accentuated by the easy stance he adopted. Only those who knew the tall mutant would know the seemingly relaxed posture was a warning sign. Remy might not act like a killer, but he could be when angered.

The feral mutant didn't answer; his mind raced trying to figure out who "Eric" might be and why Bobby would allow the man hurt him. Logan held no illusions as to the meaning of his teammates words. Could "Eric" be the reason Drake scaled himself?

Mentally, he reviewed everything that had happened in the last few minutes. Remy had gone to summon Iceman for a meeting with the Professor. Instead, the Cajun found Bobby with what appeared to be self-inflicted second-degree burns over his back, sides, and arms. The blond tried to brush off the thief's concern and passed out when grabbed. Which was when Logan found them.

A hurried glance revealed some of the blisters popped and bleeding. He'd scooped the naked mutant off the bed and headed for the Med Lab. Remy called Hank on the intercom, letting the furry doctor know about the newest emergency and quickly let the Professor know what was going on. So the pair were rushing their injured teammate too be healed from wounds he'd given himself. Which made no sense at all.

Who could have hurt Bobby bad enough for him to want to burn his touch away? Sabertooth? The huge creature certainly enjoyed tormenting people. Yet, Logan knew his nemesis well enough to know Iceman wouldn't have been so scarless had that monster gotten to him somehow. Besides, Tooth's name wasn't Eric.

A terrible suspicion began to grow in the back of Logan's mind. There had been one time Bobby was separate from the group; a time when someone could have hurt him this badly. But why would he? What could that bastard gain from doing something like that to the blond?

"Place him face down on the bed, if you would, Logan." Hank's calm voice broke his train of thought. They had arrived at Med Lab and he'd been so deep in thought, he hadn't noticed.

Carefully laying his unconscious teammate on the bed, the Canadian looked around. Remy stood by the door, face blank; only his eyes gave any clue to the emotions burning deep inside. Neither Jean nor the Professor were anywhere to be seen and should have been. The Med Lab was closer to them than to Bobby's room. Setting that aside, Logan turned his attention to the other occupied bed.

Tal. At least that might be her name. The female mutant lay under restraints and thick bandages. Her wounds had been horrific to see; all the more reason to be suspicious of her in Logan's mind. Why would a complete stranger have fought so hard to save Bobby? Something besides being a Good Samaritan was behind this woman and he intended to find out what.

He could always question Sabertooth, except the Professor collared the feral creature and locked him in a special cell. No one was to go near the prisoner until given permission. Normally, that wouldn't have dissuaded Logan. This time, however, a twenty-four hour watch was kept. To get to Tooth, one of the team had to get hurt. So, he was left with Tal.

"Logan," Beast ordered. "Please bring me the burn ointment from the cabinet." Seeing his order being obeyed, the doctor added another. "And do not bother my other patient. Her condition is very unstable."

"I tink you should be more worried abou' Bobby," Remy's deep voice came from the door; the Cajun's dislike of Med Lab keeping him hovering.

"Robert is going to be fine physically. What we need to concern ourselves with is his mental state," Hank lectured while gently treating the blisters. "I very much doubt anything short of a mental invasion by either Charles or Jean will bring an answer from our young friend. Therefore, the young lady is our best hope."

"We could ask ol' Tooth." Logan growled, popping his claws.

"I believe we have already covered that issue, Wolverine," Professor Xavier's voice announced his arrival. "And, if I remember correctly, you were told not to go near the prisoner."

Suppressing his anger, Logan stalked to the opposite side of the room, next to the girl's bed. Remy moved to join him as neither Jean nor the Professor would let him move outside to give them room. It was a subtle reminder that one day he would have to submit to the thorough examination they wanted Hank to give him. One that would include a full psychic scan. Settling against the wall, Remy crossed his arms and avoided meeting anyone's eyes. His unease clear to all.

Unconsciously, Logan moved slightly in front of the apparently younger mutant. Ever since the "incident" in Antarctica, the team had treated the auburn haired man poorly in Wolverine's opinion. He knew Jean wanted inside Remy's head and Professor Xavier was no better. Each used their position to apply pressure in order to get their way. Unfortunately, the Cajun wasn't someone who could be easily pressured. Without asking, Logan knew the lithe man had been through horrors none of them could imagine.

More than that, he hated hypocrisy. Sure, Remy had worked for Sinister, but he hadn't knowingly brought the Marauders to the Tunnels. When the former thief realized what the monster had planned, he'd tried to stop it; almost dying in the attempt. And how often had the X-Men let the mad scientist go? How many people suffered and died because they refused to deal with him? Stacked side by side, Logan knew their inaction had led to far more deaths than Remy's actions. Not that the team would ever admit it.

"How did this happen, Hank?" Charles asked, ignoring the look he got from Logan.

"Perhaps you should ask Remy or Logan. They were the ones to find him."

"I already heard their version of the events. What I need to know is why Bobby burned himself and why no one noticed he was this far gone."

"Despite your belief, Robert does not tell me everything." He sounded more than a bit offended at the implication he was responsible for the injuries.

"Didn't you sense anything, Gambit?" The Professor turned around. "Your empathy
must have picked something up."

"Non," Gambit snapped.

Unnoticed, Tal's arms began to twist in their restraints.

"So no one has any idea why Iceman would scald himself?" Charles Xavier's tone dripped sarcasm and contempt.

No one said anything.

"Very well. Jean." The redhead stepped forward. "For his sake as well as ours, we need answers."

Hank stepped between his patient and the psychic.

"I believe every effort should be made to allow Robert to explain himself."

"An attack was made on the X-Men, a strange mutant killed the Marauders, injured Scott, and Bobby was almost kidnapped. He has yet to come forward and explain why. The time for patience is at an end. If you object to Jean, then perhaps I could ask Betsy," he paused and looked Hank straight in the eye, "or Emma Frost might be able to get answers quicker."

The monitors for Tal showed an increase in mental activity.

It was a cruel threat to make and had Hank not been covered with thick blue fur, the flush from his anger would have been visible.

"You could scan the girl," Logan put in.

"Her shields are too strong," Jean responded. "I might be able to get past them but it would kill her."

"So you jus' force your way inta Bobby's mind," Remy hissed, a touch of fear in his voice. If they would invade the mind of someone the cared about, what hope did he have?

Tal's eyelids began to flutter.

"I won't hurt him," the woman protested.

"Course not. His shields never were that strong," the Canadian drawled. Jean blushed but the sarcasm was lost on the Professor.

"Father?" The new voice had everyone turned to the other occupant of the room. Tal's eyes had opened and focused on Logan. A look of confusion crossed her face. Panic and pain took over as she tried to sit up and discovered the restraints.

"Merde." Remy breathed. All too well he understood the terror of waking up helpless and tied down. Her eyes turned to him and the confused look returned.

"Daddy?"

"Child," Hank soothed. "You need to calm down. We will not hurt you."

Instead of obeying, the young mutant threw herself against the tethers growling like a feral animal. Stunned, no one moved for a second. That was all it took. Blue eyes went wide and she collapsed back onto the bed. Off to one side, the heart monitor alarm sounded indicating no heartbeat.

 

TBC in Part 5