First Night
Chapter 4
by
Misty
Distribution: Stoic Simplicity, http://www.wolverineandrogue.com/mistiec, list archives. Everyone else, please ask.
Spoilers: X-Men: the movie, Angel: The Series, second season finale.
Notes: Remember the whole "not too distant" future thing? Let's disregard that for now. We'll just say that the not too distant future is now, at least a year from now, in Angel's time.
Other notes: This is a LONG sucker, registered at about ... oh... 190 pages from start to finish. So I'll only be posting two chapters a day, so as not to overwhelm your inboxes. This is a crossover, but I wrote it as well as I could have so that even if you are not familiar with X-Men, or Angel, you can read the story and not feel lost.
That at least, is my intention. I hope.
Disclaimer : Um... these characters are not mine. I just played with them. So ... yeah.
Dedication: Jenn, Christie, Shaz - thanks.
For Ororo Munroe, finding the morbid humor in situations had never been difficult. It was a consequence that came from having a rather wry sense of humor, and although few could claim to know her, and very few could claim to know her well, those who did have the privilege remarked that when the usually quiet Storm had a smirk on her mouth and a glint in her eyes, something witty, morose, and often unexpected would come drifting out in an understated tone.
It was a gift, and a blessing, and true to her nature, Ororo used it with control, much like everything else in her life. So despite the perceptive remark that threatened to come from her lips to alleviate the tension in her taught stomach at the thought of Rogue being in that man's clutches AGAIN, her statement about the amount of chewed cigars littering the floor of the cabin plane remained right where she thought it should be: in her closed mouth.
Of course the crowded plane did nothing to help her jitters about the assignment, her uneasiness working with a vampire and his colleagues, no matter how `good' he might be, and her ever increasing worry that Rogue was in very much trouble.
Damn her claustrophobia.
She shivered, felt Remy's hands tighten on her elbow once and when she shot him a grateful smile, he squeezed once again in support. True, Remy was the mansion sex fiend, but he could be a damn good friend to those who wanted to keep it platonic.
Unfortunately, that line was beginning to be blurred more and more lately, with Logan and Rogue's increasing intimacy.
The closeness had resulted in Remy's consulting her, getting closer to her, and considering the fact that she had never been immune to his blatant sexuality, just appeared to be, gave rise to even more insecurity.
Damn. She hated not feeling in control.
Her eyes roved around the plane, pausing once to study the identical faces of worry and repression in Logan and the vampire's faces, flickering over Jean and Scott's, lost on concentration, to the two young men who seemed extreme opposites, but extremely close, as they, in turn, studied her.
Aware that she had caught them staring, the English one blushed, something that looked rather cute, and Storm found herself smiling in return, missing the frown that passed momentarily on Remy's face. His mouth opened to speak as his grip became tighter on her arm, but a ringing that came from the console in front of her kept him from saying anything else.
Immediately her hands flew over the buttons, quickly answering it. "Storm here."
The fuzzy screen quickly gave way to clarity, and when the figure grew clear, Storm gave an audible gasp.
"Hey, `Ro.'"
She swallowed, her hand gripped the Cajun's as she barely managed, "Scott, stop the plane."
His head jerked in her direction, and his mouth parted in a frown. "What?'
"STOP THE PLANE!"
The plane jerked and all eyes were on her, but Storm paid no attention as she leaned forward.
"Rogue?!"
Rogue gave a nod, looking amused as she shrugged slightly. "ROGUE?!" People scrambled out of their seats, ran to the monitor, but no one did it more forcefully than Logan. Someone literally went sprawling as he clawed his way to the front of the pack.
"ROGUE! Where the -"
"Logan! I'm okay. Relax. Deep breath, sugar."
Storm, in spite of the incredible relief that flooded her own body, managed a smile at the obvious relief on Logan's face.
"You're home?"
"I'm home. You think I wouldn't get tired of waiting for the all mighty plan?"
"Now why does everyone gotta go knocking the plan?" Gunn asked from behind him.
"Shit," Scott said, looking none to happy. When all eyes turned to him, he blushed. "Nothing," he said quickly, blushing slightly. "but it was a good plan."
Logan just glared and turned back to the screen, almost pushing Storm away from the seat, a task that was completed when the big hulking vampire moved in next to him.
"Where's Cordelia?" he immediately demanded, earning a glare from Logan as he cut him off before he could question Rogue's health further.
Rogue's eyes narrowed, but she began haltingly, "Angel, right?" He nodded breathlessly, and she paused, an expression flitting across her face that made Storm's stomach sink slightly.
"She's here, but... she's in trouble."
~*~
"You're not just leaving us here while she's in trouble. Angel, blindly jumping into situations doesn't help! Did PYLEA teach you anything?"
"Wesley I think you're being-"
"I'm not being-"
"SHE'S SICK!"
"I KNOW! Which is why more than one of us needs to be there!"
"Gentlemen we have to take into consideration-"
"Butt out Fred!"
"HEY! Don't take out your `Cordy's in trauma so we gotta lash out' issues on our girl here just because you haven't killed anything yet!"
Scott gave an audible sigh, his forehead resting gently against Jean's shoulder as his warm palm tightened against her, pulling her more firmly against him as they waited.
"Can we get the group therapy meeting overwith?" he muttered. Jean shushed him, raising a hand to gently press against his neck before letting the argument continue.
She could understand their worry. It was better to let them work it out here.
"Thank you, Gunn."
"Welcome. Now Angel. Ain't no way in hell you're leaving us behind and going with a bunch of mutants-"
"Ahem. Just what is the matter with mutants?"
At the soft, yet firm entry into their little argument, the three men turned, sheepish expressions flitting over them as Jean raised an eyebrow.
"Nothing. It's just, no offence, Jean. You're cool and all that. But it's not like we know you."
"Likewise," Storm added. "But your friend is in our mansion, and she is hurt, so perhaps this argument could be settled a trifle bit more quickly."
"Yeah? Like now?" Logan added, a snarl attached to the end of his voice.
Angel gave an audible sigh, glancing over to the group of leather clad mutants who were all sprawled on the sofa's and chairs with barely contained expressions of impatience. Even that Charles X guy was looking ready to clean their clocks.
"Alright," he said finally, trying to get past the blinding worry. "I ... Storm's right. We can't spend anymore time arguing. Wes, come with me. Gunn and Fred, I NEED you to stay here. Talk to Lorne, talk to anyone, keep LA safe until we come back. Maybe you'll find something here that we can't find over there."
"I can research," Fred began softly, her eyes sad and gentle. "Maybe I can find something. We haven't really had time to look before, but I can find things."
Angel gave her a soft, affectionate nod, squeezing her shoulder and pulling her close for a quick hug before letting her go.
"I know you will, Fred."
Gunn gave a short nod, finally relenting. "Sorry, ya'll," he said to the group waiting on them. "Things get a little nuts when one of us-"
"It's quite all right, Mr. Gunn," Charles said, wheeling forward. "We understand."
Gunn nodded, and shook hands with Wes, clasping it tightly. "Do what you can. Keep in touch."
"We will."
To Angel, who wore eyes of pain and incredible insecurity, he gave nothing more than a nod, knowing that he didn't need to give him anything else. Angel understood. "Take care of business."
"You too."
He waited a minute, locking eyes with Wesley once more, and turned, taking Fred by the elbow, steering her past the Mutant Models and making his way toward the door.
"Gunn?"
Storm pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek as she paused by him. "It was very nice meeting you."
He would have blushed had he not felt like there was a blender in his stomach.
"You too."
It was good he wasn't going. He needed to take care of his guys. He needed to stay in LA and not be in Winchester holed up in some mansion.
It was good he wasn't going. It didn't mean he was being left behind, but he was needed here.
That was all it meant. He had to take care of Fred and his crew. He had responsiblities to his family.
"Gunn?"
"Yeah Fred."
Fred's voice was tired, she looked weary from lack of sleep and her pretty face was worried for Cordelia, but when she held up the white slip something in his heart gave and he had to smile.
"Validation."
~*~
She had never been a good patient, and Rogue, as she waited outside of the medical ward that she had become very familiar with during the battles for her mind and the world, was never one to debate it.
The truth was she hated the medical ward, because it dredged up memories. Memories of the past, the present... of watching with eyes that were hers as her body lost control to another, and in the process, she lost the trust of the many friends she had worked so hard to make.
The fear was still there, in their eyes, and she couldn't blame them. In her mind manifested killers, leaking out.
One day, Rogue would snap, that's what they feared.
That's what they believed.
In her heart she knew she was death incarnate. The fear inside of her, at her gift, was something she had long ago come to terms with, but it made it no easier to settle down now, as her dark eyes flickered toward the door, supressing the shudder and the sigh that so easily came to her.
She was too old for this.
She was too old and too young. Her gloved hands drifted to her eyes and she rubbed at them, wincing at the pain in the left shoulder, already beginning to heal thanks to the inherited traits of Logan that had somehow still managed to worm their way into her system. Rogue gave a sigh, leaning against the wall of the medical bay that held the Seer, her eyes bloodshot and red and all she could think of, alone with the lonely stark white was that...
It should have been over.
It should have been over. Rogue was taken, Rogue rescued herself, Magneto was averted again and that was it, it should have been over. God she so desperately wanted this to be over. She could deal with her fear, but she could not deal with HIM, with Magneto... he brought back the child... and her hold over her mind, her control was so precarious and being the child was so dangerous...
Mission completed. Finito. Danger gone - disaster averted - happy X- Men abounded.
That was how it was supposed to end.
But the seer had told her she would end up with a wound in her stomach, dying, that Logan would try to sacrifice himself to save her, and she wouldn't allow it-
And the world would end in the process.
There was a woman her age in that room almost in a coma and in very serious pain from a head trauma that Hank had no idea how to fix and it was damn scary.
It was ridiculous. Ridiculous and full of shit and who the hell were The Powers That Be anyway? The seer was half baked and fried and half crazy and that kinda put a fork in anything she might have said.
Didn't it?
They couldn't have spent more than fifteen hours together, but it had felt like days, and although Rogue, Marie- whatever the hell people felt like calling her that day- was never one to make acquaintances fast, thanks to her inheritance of Logan's love of solitude and blunt insecurity of people, she almost considered this Cordelia Chase a friend.
Despite the fact she had called her bitch twice and the fact that she kept muttering about her impending doom.
This was scary. Scary and freaky and something she did NOT need right now.
If she kept thinking about she was going to freak out. Rogue knew that freaking out was not a good thing for her, and once again thanking Ororo the control freak for her little lessons, Rogue closed her eyes, took a deep breath, muttered a curse about the others taking so damn long and then her mind locked onto another thought to distract her.
Unfortunately the thought was a memory, and memories were dangerous. She was against a wall, he was pressed against her, hands kneading one breast almost reverantly as his breath was hot and moist against her neck and -
SHIT.
Rogue's eyes shot open and she shifted, gritting her teeth, feeling her stomach plummet at her own carelessness.
She was an X-Men. She should have thought of Magneto, of his plan, of mutations, ANYTHING but what had transpired between she and Logan minutes before they were attacked. But she bit her lip and again the thoughts flitted inside of her head, long supressed by the kidnapping and well... the blinding fear. It was... unexpected. Logan was a friend, her very best friend... a brother type...
At least that was what she had told herself since she was seventeen years old.
And God that was the last thing she needed from him at this moment. She trusted him. She loved him-
But the aching in her heart, the splinter in her mind and the sadness that would come from admitting that she was IN love with him would only worsen if he EVER decided to `go for it' with her. She knew it was impossible. Physical intimacy with death incarnate was impossible. A relationship with someone who could kill with a touch...
She loved Logan too much... loved anyone too much to allow that. In her heart, in her mind she knew that she would never go on if she accidently lost her very best friend in a night of passion.
She could live without passion.
She could not live without Logan.
Rogue swallowed, wrapping her arms around her body and holding on tight.
As soon as Cordelia was taken care of, as soon as Magneto was taken care of and the world was safe and Rogue was reasonably sure she would not come out of this with a gaping wound in her chest, then she would explain that to Logan.
It wasn't a conversation she was looking forward to. Her breath blew out and her body sagged against the wall.
She had a sinking feeling it would lead to the breaking of her very own heart.
~*~
The plane landed over a basketball court that quickly gave way to an underground warehouse of sorts.
It was dark, night had long ago fallen, his hands gripped the side of the chair, and he felt tired.
Angel closed his eyes as he felt the thud of the plane, not speaking, not looking, just thinking.
Cordelia was in trouble.
The thought resonated through him and there was nothing he could do. The helpless feeling coursed through him and it was followed with anger, as his chest rumbled with a growl that made Jean jump and Storm gaze at him, but Logan merely stared, and then turned away, forgetting him when the doors opened and everyone stood.
Jean made a point of staying by his side as they walked down the stairs of the jet, Angel seeing the chrome, the high tech suits and the weapons and motorcycles, heard Wesley gasp in awe, and yet never letting it sink in.
He walked quickly, following Logan, Jean and Charles, letting Wesley follow with Storm and the others as they walked with assurance through the maze of brightly lit rooms, with the flourescent lights and 'X's that were placed on everything.
There was a lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe and when he turned the corner, his steps faltering as he recognized the girl from the alley.
Her eyes were red and bloodshot, she looked tired as she moved away from the wall. Her jeans were torn and dirty, her face smudged with blood and caked with dirt, and her hair pulled back into a pony tale, the white streaks mingling with the dark.
But her eyes were the part that made him suck in an unneeded breath of air, quicken his step and then stop uncertainly. Jean approached her, but it was Logan who reached her first, rushing toward her and then stopping a foot away.
Rogue stared at him, and small smile flitted on her face and she only nodded, her eyes leaving his immediately and turning toward Jean's. Angel didn't wait to see what Logan would do, but pushed past him, standing next to Jean as he looked down at the young girl.
"Where's Cordelia?"
This was so different from the blinding panic he usually felt.
He had no idea where she was but his movements were slow, almost as if he was drugged, in a daze.
So this was what true fear really was.
"Angel," Rogue whispered, and her head cocked toward the doorway, and no one tried to stop him as he pushed through them, not giving them a chance to slide before he burst into the room to encounter a huge blue furred beast standing over an incredibly frail body lying on a medical bed.
Oh, God.
"Wesley."
He didn't wait for the British man to follow, didn't even let himself think about walking but he was suddenly by her side, hand clasping hers, fingers tracing down her face, and oh GOD she was- Her body was trembling, dried tears were on her face and there was so much pain in her face... there was so much pain-
"Cordy," he rasped.
Across from him he saw her other hand taken as Wesley sunk down, glasses glinting, his own face somber and sad.
Wesley was trembling.
"It's as we've feared," Wesley whispered. "This time... it was too much."
"She'll get through it. She has to," Angel snapped back, reaching forward to press his fingers against her face, leaning forward, feeling his vision blur with unshed tears.
DAMMIT. He would NOT CRY. There was no reason to cry because NOTHING was going to happen to Cordelia.
"Cordy, look at me, Cordy."
Her mouth opened and she whimpered, and his body jolted when her eyes fluttered open and her eyes locked with his.
"Angel?" she whispered. His hand tightened and he found he had no voice, and at best could only nod furiously. Her eyes lingered on him and her body shuddered again and when she looked at Wesley, he could only smile that crooked English smile of his that was so full of fear.
She saw it.
She saw the fear and it affected her. Her eyes closed and her body curled into a fetal position, pressing her cheek against Angel's cold hands, and Cordelia Chase held onto his arm desperately and she cried.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It hurts too much. Angel, it hurts so much."
The tears, despite his damndest to keep them in, slid over and he wiped them away furiously, kneeling down against the bed and pulling her into his body. Wesley gave a choked sound that sounded like an attempt at a word and Angel didn't pay attention to it.
She needed him to hold her.
And dammit, that was what he was going to do.
His body shuddered and she continued to sob, heartwrenching sobs that were so painful as they wracked her tired body.
And FUCK.
All he could do was hold her.
~*~
"She's dying." Jean took the glasses from her face, put them down and rubbed at her tired orbs, body tight and shoulders aching from the hours without sleep. "She's dying and I don't know how to stop it." It was the sentence that hung in the air, lingering over the heads of the X-Men that had gathered to hear the verdict.
Jean Grey was a leader in her field, she was a GOOD doctor, and Hank was a good doctor, a GREAT doctor and this wasn't suposed to happen to a twenty-two year old girl.
"Jean." Charles wore a haggard frown. "Have you considered using the mind to-"
"No," she said immediately. "Absolutely not. I have considered it, asking you, or myself going into her mind to try and deal with them but... it's much too dangerous."
"The amount of pain she is going through... would be too shocking," Hank explained, his blue fur glinting somewhat in the flourescent light. "I'm afraid even your mind, Professor, would have a very hard time taking control."
"The problem isn't her mind," Jean added. "These visions... it's from a vessel. They are outside forces. A channel inside of her has triggered them, but the channel isn't strong enough to..." she cut herself off, sinking down into the chair. "The vampire said she inherited these visions from a half-demon. Now, granted, that is taking a lot on faith, but it makes sense. As a human, she isn't strong enough to-"
"I know why Magneto wanted her," Rogue interrupted. Jean looked up. Until now Rogue had been quiet, sullen almost, eyes haunted with a pain that Jean knew she or Charles would have tried to touch on had they not been so involved with saving the Seer's life.
Scott turned, glasses glinted as he leaned forward. "Why, Rogue?"
The faded Southern drawl was thick, a sure sign that Rogue was troubled. The accent was always thicker when Rogue was nervous. "He thinks she's a mutant. A human who became a mutant. And with what happened to Senator Kelly-"
"Could be happening to her," Jean breathed, hand jerking away from her face and sitting up. "Cordelia could be a mutant."
"That might be a longshot."
But her mind was already whirling. Her eyes connected with Hank's and immediately he stood, walking over the floor plan.
"It's the only lead with have, Scott," she said, moving past him, eyes already on the charts she had taken of the seer. "and we don't have much time."
There was shuffling behind her, she dimly heard Scott telling Storm and Remy to work with Rogue and research Magneto and what he could possibly want, but it barely registered.
Her glasses were back on and her energy was renewed, and although tired lines marred the pretty face and bags were forming under her eyes, Jean never felt more alive. It was the fervor with which she tackled every mission, and she very much hoped it would be key in saving the life of the young seer who lay nearly comatose in the next room.
~*~
Winnifred waited as Gunn opened the doors to the hotel, and her steps faltered as she stood in the doorway.
She had never realized how empty it was... how alone it was when it wasn't occupied by a vampire, a seer, a watcher and a renegade. Fred had been alone for as long as she could remember, and in her mind her own personal hell consisted of nothing more than being alone.
The hotel had never seemed so big, so lonely... and so incredibly unlivable.
She closed her eyes and shuddered, clutching her books to her chest and moving back. "Perhaps it would be better if I stayed at Cordelia's," she said quickly. "I'm sure Dennis wouldn't mind the company."
"Fred you have to stay here," Gunn said, catching her as she pushed back and moving her forward, hands on her waist, gently leading her in. "One of us needs to be here in case Angel calls."
"Why can't we both be here?" She whirled in his arms, and when he looked down he saw eyes wide and frightened, and SHIT he had forgotten how afraid she was of being alone. Fred was a damned strong woman; it took a strong person to have lived as a slave for years and still have a vestige of sanity, but in so many ways, she was a child. A really smart, really pretty child, with a hell of a mouth on her... but a child. A woman-child.
He licked his lips, keeping her in place with large hands wrapped around a small waist and looked around the lobby. Shadows flitted about, seemed to move in strange places and it was dark and cold and empty and Cordelia was in trouble and-
"You want me to stay with you?"
Her eyes lit up and she nodded, the books still clutched in her chest, pushing into his, keeping them neatly seperated.
He reached in between them, prying the book out and tossing it on the counter. "Fred, you don't gotta be scared, okay?"
"I can't help it," she whispered, "Cordelia's my friend. She's my family and if she dies-"
"She won't die."
She swallowed, and her eyes closed and when she whimpered his hands went around her. She leaned into his embrace instinctively, face burying into his chest and Gunn was almost glad she had broken down.
That meant he didn't have to... and damn it he would have... He was this close.
A small whimper slid from her still body and he sighed, pressing his lips against the top of her hair, smoothing down the silky brown strands as they stood in the cold, empty hotel lobby.
"We're gonna get 'em back, Fred," he said soothingly, eyes wide open as he stared at their home, his home.
He wasn't homeless anymore.
"We're gonna get Cordy back, and we're gonna get our family back and we're gonna be okay," he said, voice rough with conviction. "Until then, you and me, we're gonna stick together, okay?"
There was a sniffle, and an uncomfortable wetness down the front of his shirt but when her eyes met his and she gave a short, strong nod, he didn't mind.
It was going to be easier being with her.
"We can help them here," she said, pulling out of his embrace and picking up the book he tossed. "With research and books and... I can do that. And you can do the street thing and we can -"
"Fred." His fingers closed over hers and he pried the book once again from her fingers and led her to the stairs. "We will. In the morning. Right now, girl, you gotta sleep. You aren't gonna be any use to Angel and Cor and Wes if you're all baggy-eyed."
Her shoulders were tense, but he kneaded into them, and she didn't argue as they walked together to their bedrooms.
He knew it would be one of the longest nights in his life.
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