Empathy's Echo
Chapter 2
by
NYC
Disclaimer: All X-men and X-villians are Marvel's characters. Please don't sue me.
"Angry"~ by Matchbox Twenty
So scream you, out from behind the bitter ache
Heavy on the memory, you need most
still want love, ugly, smooth and delicate
not without affection, not alone
And instead of wishing that it would get better
man you're seeing that you just get angrier
And it's good that I'm not angry
I just need to get over/ I'm not angry, anymore
Cry when you cry, run when you run
love when you love
represent the ashes
that you leave behind
And instead of wishing that the road had shoulder
man you're seeing that you sinking over time
And it's good that I'm not angry
I just need to get over/ I'm not angry
it's dragging me under/ I'm not angry
I'm not angry it's never been enough
It gets inside and it tears you up
I'm not angry but I've never been above it
you see through me, don't you?
Early the next morning, one of the first stories to be run that day, the news announced that the mutant named Toad had escaped from his cell. The details were obscure, but no one had to tell the occupants of Professor Xavier's school. Somehow, the Brotherhood had reclaimed the last of their own. While Toad hardly felt like a threat--although Storm was highly annoyed that her lightening blast hadn't turned his lizard-like hide into a pair of boots--it made them nervous.
It made Rogue nervous.
"Ah don't want to do this anymore," she confided to Melody at breakfast. She tried to say it low, but there was no way she was going to keep it from Logan, who was coming over to sit down beside them. His ears were just too good.
"You can't mean that," Melody said, holding up her hand to Logan before he could blast Rogue with some sort of reproach. Not that he would have been hard about it, but it was obvious to Melody that Rogue was just plain scared. Scared of doing more harm that she had already done to her family.
That, Melody could genuinely empathize with.
"No, Ah don't," Rogue said, shaking her head, "Ah do want to see them again, but Ah can't go home to do it. Ah can't risk..." she shuddered. "It just wouldn't be a good idea."
Melody nodded, looking to Logan. "Then we have to find a way around it."
He considered the problem. "Maybe we could bring them here," he suggested, then scowled at his own idea. "No, not here...somewhere neutral. Somewhere only we'd know about."
After breakfast, they went to see Professor Xavier, who calmly posed that if Magneto was going to make a move toward them the second they made themselves vulnerable, and he had indeed targeted one of his watches onto Rogue's parents, any contact they made with the couple would be carefully monitored.
"A neutral ground," Scott amended, "where we're ready to defend ourselves, and not hurt anyone in the process."
That night, Rogue called her parents for the first time in almost a year. Melody stuck around for the first twenty minutes or so, then quietly slipped out and went downstairs to the room adjacent to what Scott called the Danger Room. It was where they made their plans and determined their strategies whenever they went into X-Men mode.
There was an old abandoned school somewhere out in the middle of nowhere that Professor Xavier had recently acquired, intending to turn it into some sort of halfway house for mutants. It was only about four or five hours outside of Rogue's home town, and basic restructuring construction had already been completed. It was waiting for the next phase, which was a makeover intended to create a living environment for those who needed it, before it went into its last phase, occupation. Professor Xavier had already given them his blessing to use it, although Melody came in on the conversation in time to remind him that if the Brotherhood did show up, they may wind up doing their own redecorating, and it would not nearly be as constructive. With a wary smile, the Professor asked her if she "had any feelings" about their plan.
It was an odd question, and as he asked it, everyone turned and looked at her. She looked back around, feeling uncomfortable.
"What are you all staring at?" she asked softly. "Do I have jelly on my chin or something?"
"It's a valid question, darlin'," Logan pointed out. "Maybe you could, I dunno...pick up some vibes about this place?"
"I'm empathic, not clairvoyant," she returned. "I can't predict the future."
"Have you ever tried?" Jean asked gently. "People often get strange feelings when things are about to happen to them, good or bad. Considering your ability, it's not such a wild idea."
Melody considered this. "Well, I can't do it with all of you staring at me," she said. "When are we leaving?"
"I've instructed Rogue to give her parents directions to this place," Scott said. "They can probably be there late this afternoon if they leave within the next few hours."
"Right after lunch, then, should do it," Ororo said.
"If I sense anything, I'll let you know as soon as I can, then," Melody said.
Rogue was a bit shaky when she got off the phone with her parents. It was a Monday, and school was already in session, and there was no point in her missing it, so she went to classes, but she may as well have stayed in bed, as much as she was able to pay attention.
Melody stuck close to her that morning as the others went about their work. She had never realized before how little Logan actually had to do around there--the Professor had suggested that maybe he teach some students the art of self-defense, but few seemed interested because their mutant abilities didn't give them much need for hand-to-hand combat. Logan just chuckled at them. Even if he, by some freak occurrence, lost his adamantium skeleton, at least he'd still be able to defend himself. These poor kids were one day going to get "stuck in a downbreeze and not know which way to piss," as he so elegantly put it. So for a lack of anything better to do, Logan wound up sticking close to her.
"Sensing anything?" he asked lightly as the hour drew closer to 11. They were in the Professor's study, and the kids were down the hall with the Professor himself in a physics lab. It felt rather quiet around here for the middle of a Monday, but Melody was enjoying her first real moments of peace in quiet a long time.
"Not with you and your emotions hovering around me," she said lightly, thumbing through one of the Professor's books on psychology. "Don't you have anything to do, like sharpening your claws or anything?"
He plopped down beside her on the leather couch. She tossed him a smile and he slung his arm around her shoulders, lifting up the other hand and extending his claws with a *Snikt.*
She gave a little jump, and he snickered at her.
"Did I scare you?" he teased.
"No," she said, blinking at the sight of the metal blades. "I just...I don't think I've seen them...like this before."
He looked at his claws. They didn't look any different to him. And then he remembered that she hadn't seen him use his claws since those first days in Dr. Logan's funhouse. Then, they had just been his skeleton's natural extensions. Now, they were gleaming adamantium daggers.
On impulse, he lowered them, turning them over so the curved, sharp side was facing up, and the duller side--if there was a duller side--was facing her. "Want to touch them?" he asked huskily.
Her mouth popped open in a startled laugh. "What?"
"Touch them," he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, touch them. I don't pop my claws out for show for just anybody."
"Oh, I guess that makes me special," she said, but her hand didn't move. "I dunno, Logan..."
He slid them closer to her. The points were well away from her face, and he felt himself getting serious. "C'mon, Mel. It's still me."
She furrowed an eyebrow at him. "This better not be a kinky thing," she warned, and then slowly, hesitantly, reached up and ran her finger over the inside of one of the claws.
"Ooooh, baby," he suddenly moaned. She jerked her hand back and thrust herself a good inch or two away from him, as much as she could get pushed up against the arm of the couch.
"You jerk," she snarled, her cheeks flaming but his laughter contagious as he seemed to melt into it, his rough voice so strange as it filled with those delighted giggles.
He tightened his other arm around her, pulling his extended claws back and away so as not to get them anywhere near her in this mildly hysterical state. She resisted, but wound up tucked tightly against him, his mouth lightly kissing her neck.
She was shaking her head, outraged and laughing at the same time. "I been called worse, darlin'," he managed, his laughter calming a bit.
"You deserved worse," she said, giving him a scathing sidelook and failing miserably because she couldn't stop smiling.
"Okay, I did, I promise not to do it again," he sighed, finally sobering. He slid his claws back into his hand, but she reached out, taking that hand in hers and pulling it up between them, carefully pointing his knuckles out.
"Do it again," she said. "Show me."
Slowly, the tips of his claws appeared underneath his flesh, breaking it as they thrust out, slowly, sliding forward and gleaming until all nine inches appeared in all their metallic glory.
"Looks painful," she murmured, dead serious.
"Yeah," he said.
Then, impulsively, she pressed her lips to the tiny open wounds, and Logan gasped a bit, surprised and strangely excited.
"What...what was that for?" he managed.
"I don't know...something unique to me, I guess. For you to remember."
He chuckled, low and throaty. He leaned closer to her. "I don't think I could ever forget you, darlin'," he said. "Not again, at least."
"I'm gonna hold you to that, you know," she reminded him, still holding his hand in both of her own.
"Mel," he sighed, letting his claws slip back into his arm as slowly as they had appeared, "if anyone ever tries to separate us again, they're gonna find out what these claws're really good for, and it ain't for kissin'."
She nodded. "But you, know, there are going to be some unpleasant surprises for us both, eventually," she said, the memories from yesterday coming up fresh in her mind. They had talked a lot last night, sorting things out, and she had told him about Andrew, how she had turned to him, about how deep and complicated and utterly contradictory their relationship had been. He had understood--been a bit jealous, maybe, but he couldn't hold it against her, considering the women he'd known over the years.
Then again, none of them were a threat. And from what he understood, this Andrew Logan was his father. Someday, they were going to have to deal with that. He was going to have to deal with that. He wasn't sure which he dreaded more, his own reaction, or hers.
"You told me," he said, stroking her hair. "I know there's a lot more to tell me, more than you could ever get out in just a single day, but I'm also not the greatest conversationalist in the world, either."
She smiled a bit. "You say a lot more to me than you think."
"Yeah, depends on the language," he said, touching his forehead to hers. "We just have to remember, we're not keeping secrets. We're just going to have to let things reveal themselves as they come and not push it."
"It's not going to be easy," she murmured.
He kissed her temple. "Nothing ever is," he said, "but if it was, how would we know what's really worth it to us?"
Her smile widened. "Wow...that was profound."
"Yeah, it gave me a headache."
She lifted up her head, rubbing her face lightly alongside his, their noses touching, the side of her mouth skimming over his cheek.. "Poor baby," she cooed.
"Keep this up," he said, "and I'm going to get addicted all this sugary-sweet lovey-dovey stuff."
"Don't worry, I promise to turn back into a tormented hag by midnight."
"Okay...it'll go right along with my old crabby wolf-man routine."
"See?" she said, pulling back a bit and flashing him a wide smile. "We're perfect for each other. Now let's stop talking about such serious things and have a stupid conversation."
He chuckled. "That's something I've never been asked before," he said. "About what?"
She shrugged. "I dunno...I've always wanted a belly button ring. Do you have anything pierced?"
He gave her a rather odd look, and it almost seemed like he was blushing. "I can't do that."
"You can't?"
"Healing factor, remember? I get cut and it seals up. I kinda found out the hard way, though."
Melody rested her cheek against her hand. "Oh, this sounds like a story I want to hear."
"Nothin' to tell," he said with a shake of his head. "I hung out with this girl for a while... nobody too special, don't get all jealous," he added, giving her a teasing smile. "Anyways, she had a thing for piercing parts of her, but not letting them show. She thought it was a kinky thing. She wanted to pierce me..." he shifted uncomfortably.
Melody's eyes widened as she somehow, inexplicably, picked up his thought. "A Prince Albert?" she said, incredulous. "You let someone give you a Prince Albert?"
"Well, it was one of my stupid moments. I thought I'd impress her with my ability to withstand pain. Well, the hole closed up and she freaked out. I never saw her again." His fingers grazed Melody's cheek. "No big loss, though."
She was laughing soundlessly at him. "Well, your tolerance for pain is better than mine. I want a belly button ring, but I hate needles."
"Kinda hard to get a piercing done then," he pointed out wryly.
She nodded. "I saw girls with chains around their stomachs--the belly-button ring equivalent to clip earrings, I guess. But I never got myself one. No real reason...no one to see it but me."
"What about Andrew?" Logan asked in a low voice.
"We were involved," she admitted, then paused thoughtfully. "It didn't work out, but he's been all I've had for the last fifteen years."
Logan nodded. "I understand," he said softly, his voice losing that rough edge that it usually had, even when he was being affectionate or gentle. He looked at her. "So where is he now?"
She shrugged. "I don't know." Her gaze was still thoughtful, but this time it seemed to be evaluating him. "I'm sure I'm going to see him again someday," she added. "How would you feel about that?"
He couldn't begin to answer. After all, it was Dr. Andrew Logan. His tormentor, captor, and father. He hadn't had the advantage of watching him change like Melody had, and even now, with all the years and the fogginess the amnesia still created over his past, Logan did not like to go back to those memories.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I'd have to see."
She gave him a little smile. "That's enough for me," she whispered.
The school looked pretty much how they had imagined it to look when they landed there shortly before one o'clock that afternoon. Deserted, quiet, and extremely clean.
No one had set foot in it since the construction crew had left, and it gave off an almost eerie silence. Storm agreed to stay with the jet while Jean, Scott, Melody, Logan and Rogue went to check the place out. It would be a while before her parents arrived, and all this fuss had succeeded in turning Rogue into a complete nervous wreck.
She sat down on one of the leftover workbenches and looked out the window anxiously at the driveway. She turned her gaze back to all of them, and seemed to want to shrink into nothingness.
"Ah'm so sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" Jean asked.
"For all of this, all the trouble Ah've made you go through." Her great brown eyes were so sad that Logan was compelled to sit down beside her, carefully getting an arm around her shoulder. It looked rather amusing, considering he was in his uniform. "Ah hope it's worth it."
"It will be, Marie," Logan assured her, his voice sounding a bit smoother than Rogue had expected. She gave him a rather sheepish smile.
"No one can say you don't live up to your word, Logan," she said.
"What d'ya mean?"
"Ya promised to take care of me," she laughed. "Ah think you've kept your promise." She shot a look at Melody. "Considerin' you've got your hands full now."
"Oh, really?" Melody laughed, coming up to them and giving the bench a little shove with her foot. "So now I'm a handful, huh?"
Rogue rolled her eyes. "Well, really--all the fuss you go through---"
"And for a sure thing, nonetheless," Logan added, a rather cocky look on his face.
Melody pressed her lips together, but she was still smiling as she flopped down on the other side of Rogue. "Pardon me while I change the subject," she said, nudging Rogue, but the next words were cut off by the fact that there was the noise of a car outside, and Rogue leapt up, going to the door and peeking out.
"They're here!" she called, jumping up and down on the balls of her toes excitedly. She spun around, her face radiant. "They're here!"
Melody lept up and went to Rogue's side, grasping her by the shoulder. "I know you're excited, hon'," she said soothingly, watching as the old Cadillac pulled up and parked beside the curb, "but remember to be careful, okay?"
"Ah know," Rogue sighed, but she was still beaming. "Come out with me, okay?" She pushed the door open, and Scott all but jumped on her.
"Rogue!" he shouted.
The girl barely caught herself, due more to Melody's efforts than her own.
"It could be a trick," he said, slightly reluctant, walking over to the door. He motioned her back inside. "One of us needs to go first."
"I'll go," Jean said. She had a jacket over her uniform, so it looked like she was just wearing very chic looking leather pants.
Scott nodded. He gestured to Mel. "You may want to wait--"
"No," Rogue said, grasping Melody's arm. "They both go."
Melody slung her arm through Rogue's. "Don't sweat it, Scott, I'll be fine."
"Yeah, 'cause I'll be watchin'," Logan finished, coming up to the group. He'd laid back, checking the smells, reassuring himself that it was in fact Rogue's parents and not that shapeshifter Mystique. He'd never forget her scent again. "Besides, it's clear. Go on ahead."
Scott still seemed wary, but Jean and Melody escorted Rogue out to see her parents.
After an enthusiastic if cautious greeting (because no one wanted to see anyone get zapped with Rogue's absorbent powers) Rogue fell into more personal talk with her parents, and Melody and Jean got them inside and into a more private room.
Scott and Logan, mysteriously enough, were not in the main hall when they came back into the building.
"I wonder where they went," Melody mused aloud, a strange feeling in her stomach.
Jean scowled. "I'm sure--Storm, are you there?" she said, opening a channel on a small communication link in the collar of her uniform.
"Scott and Logan said they heard a noise," Storm came back. "They reported to me that they were going to go check it out."
"Hmm," Jean said. "You'd think he would have told us first...Jean out," and she turned back to Melody, who had a very curious look on her face as the feeling spread up her gut and into her shoulders, making them tingle madly, like her back was itching in a spot she could never reach. "You okay?"
"No," Melody said honestly, turning to Jean with wide eyes. "I think I should go see what Logan and Scott are up to."
"If you're sure," Jean said, frowning. "I can go--"
"No, you'd better stay watch here. You've got training and I don't want to leave Rogue undefended."
"To be honest, I'm not worried about defending Rogue," Jean confided. "While Logan was gone, the Professor helped her figure out how to use her powers to defend herself. She's not likely to be taken by surprise again."
"Not if Magneto's got another hypodermic dart," Melody countered. "You stay. I'll go. Besides, I'll be with Scott and Logan, I'll be fine."
"Okay, but as soon as you find them, let me know where they are." She pulled something out of a pouch in her uniform and gestured for Melody to come over to her. "Put this on."
Melody took it. It was a small, round metal object, like a pin, identical to Jean's personal radio link. She attached it to the collar of her shirt. "Thanks," she said, following that strange tingle into one of the room as she headed off. "I'll let you know as soon as possible."
Jean nodded and watched until she was out of sight. Then, she heard footsteps coming from the other direction, and looked down the hallway to see that Scott had just appeared out of one of the rooms and was walking toward her quickly.
"Hey there!" Jean called, feeling relieved. She reached out, almost unconsciously, with her mind to touch it to his, like a mental kiss. He was a single foot away from her when she made contact and realized that she was sorely mistaken.
But not half as sore as her jaw was, as "Scott" raised a fist and cold-cocked her, turning her beautiful, red-headed, leather-clad form into nothing more than an unconscious heap on the fresh tile floor.
Melody felt the change. The emotion of complete and utter shock was like an electric spark traveling over currents of static to reach right between her eyes and tap her, hard. Jean was down. She'd been tricked, and now Rogue was vulnerable. Melody spun on her heel and headed for the door, but the second her foot reached the doorway, she saw what she needed to see.
The dark figure, which looked like Scott from behind, was shifting. The skin was turning blue and rather scaly, the hair was turning a sharp orange-red and falling down her back in brilliant waves. The head turned and intense, gleaming yellow eyes met hers.
The blue lips smiled. "You must be Mystique," Melody said, banishing the shake from her voice. She was sure she had never been so afraid in her life, but she knew what she had to do. Somehow, it was crystal clear to her.
The figure turned all the way. She was nude, and her figure was dazzling. She was like living water, flowing rather than walking toward her, a hard smile on that face, a determined glint in those yellow, cat-like eyes.
Melody turned and ran. The room she had entered was a lounge of sorts, and there was a door leading to a small kitchen on the other side. She made it to the second doorway and was just coming into sight of a third doorway to a classroom when she heard Scott's voice coming from where Jean lay, unconscious.
The real Scott.
Mystique heard it too, turned and glared at him over her shoulder, then threw the door to the lounge shut and turned the little lock in the door. Melody couldn't resist tossing over her shoulder, "You know, he can blast through that."
"Then I'd better kill you quickly," Mystique purred, lunging forward.
Melody nearly tripped, falling backwards and groping for the door. She hurled it shut and threw the door lock as Mystique had done, securing a barrier for a few moments. But at her feet, she saw something moving, something a brilliant blue, and Mystique's mocking laughter.
She was a shape shifter. And she was going to shape shift her way under that door.
Melody shut her eyes, trying to squelch her panic. In her head, as if unbidden, a picture came--Logan's face. She felt his name form in her mind, heard it being called by her own voice, but no sound came from her throat.
She opened her eyes again, and suddenly caught a scent. Maybe she had been around Logan too much, but it was a strong smell, reminding her of days spent in her youth playing by the creek that ran across the street from her house, catching--
Toad.
She turned and saw him, recognizing him from the news item. He seemed a bit more threatening in real life, even as nonchalantly as he was squatting on a large desk. His amphibian eyes regarded her coldly, calculating the distance he would have to leap to smash her right into the ground.
Melody backed away from the door, crossing the distance between her and Toad, or at least half of it. A bit closer of an inspection told her what she had suspected, and she felt a strange wave of pity. The poor guy--he wasn't so bad looking, if he hadn't been cursed with green skin and horrid warts, especially the one on his nose. His hair, an intense green, stuck up on his head in an almost fashionable way, and his clothing was loose, but not disguising how powerfully built he was.
"Mortimer, right?" she said, shifting her emotions to exude a confidence and friendliness that she knew would surprise him if nothing else. As she relaxed into her powers, she realized that she could sense his emotions as well, and not just the obvious ones.
The little bugger actually thought she was cute.
"Yeah," he said, his voice rather smooth and breathy. Accented, maybe Scottish?
"Melody," she introduced herself. "A lot of people call me Mel."
"Most people call me Toad," he said.
"I like Mortimer better. Or Morty--not a bad name, not really." She smiled, relaxing the mood. Mystique was having to liquefy herself and slide through the thin crack under the door and it was taking her a bit to reform properly. Melody calculated she had exactly two minutes before she became a threat again.
He chuckled. "No one really cares what they call me," he said, a bit bitterly.
"That's a shame," she said, coming even closer. Then suddenly falling back on her honesty, she said, "You know, when I was a kid, people used to laugh at me a lot."
"Yeah, well, whatever mutant power you have, it doesn't show," he said, giving her a rather scathing, impatient look.
"No, it wasn't that," she said, waving her hand and giggling a bit. "I used to, uh...I used to," and she laughed again, the memory making the action genuine. "I used to kiss toads."
He frowned at her. "What?"
"Well," she shrugged, "I read the Frog Prince one too many times, and...well, you know the rest. Handsome prince, beautiful princess, etc."
He hitched, then said softly, "Did it ever work?"
"I don't know. As soon as I would kiss the toad it would leap away." She giggled again. "I guess they didn't like me much."
He gave her a boyishly shy smile. "I don't know why."
Mystique's form began to bubble upward. Melody gave it a rather worrisome look. "I'm not going to lie to you," she said, "because the truth is, I think your friend is going to kill me."
"Yeah, I came to watch," Toad said, his tone rather disinterested.
"Really?" She cocked an eyebrow, looking him over. "I'd say you were wanting to beat her to it."
He seemed to blush just a bit. "Yeah, maybe."
"Um hm." She considered the bubbling form. "You know, I haven't given up looking for that prince." She felt a sudden surge in his emotions and caught the thought that traveled on them. "If I kiss you, will you keep her from killing me?"
He considered it. "What makes you think I'd want you to kiss me?" he said, but there was no conviction in his voice. She gave him a very warm, knowing smile.
"If that's how you feel---"
"No," he said, quite suddenly, leaping off the desk and onto his feet. He straightened, his eyes turning bright as they met with hers. "But what happens after you're free?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. Depends on the kiss."
He shrugged. "Sounds fair, I guess." He stepped closer to her, and that was when Melody caught the smell.
His breath...Jean had told her what he'd done to her, almost killing her. The fleeting fear she had about getting accidentally slimed and then suffocated came and went as Toad got his arms around her waist and pulled her in.
Their lips met, and Melody felt dizzy. The world swirled around her in a haze, and only later would her memory bring back to her what had happened. As she came back into reality and wound up leaning hard against the desk that Toad had perched on, and was aware of scuffling noises and a very foul taste on her lips, so foul she had to spit on the ground. Then, after a few seconds, the haziness and the taste both disappeared, and she was sitting on the desk now, watching as Toad was pummeling a rather surprised and sadly unprepared Mystique back into the other room, the door kicked down by one of his powerful legs, no doubt.
She blinked slowly, vaguely wondering what was going to happen next.
Logan had scented him before he'd seen him, and it was the first time in a long time that he could remember feeling fear.
Sabretooth.
He wasn't afraid of the poor excuse for a fighter, and an ever-poorer excuse of a mutant. He was afraid of that big empty-headed monster getting his claws into Melody or Rogue or one of the others, as he was inclined to do.
Scott asked him what was going on. Logan only vaguely heard it, but he answered, turning and walking toward where the smell led. He heard Scott calling for him, heard him talking to Storm over the communication link, and then following him. They made it out to the courtyard before the wind shifted and threw the smell off. Logan stopped and turned to Scott.
"You'd better go back inside," Logan said. "I lost him. He could be anywhere."
Scott nodded and head back into the school, calling Jean's name.
Logan stood there, counting the minutes, waiting for the wind to shift and the smell to return. He began to wonder if he had imagined it, but that instantly vanished when he felt--not saw, but *felt*--an image of Melody suddenly in his head, calling his name.
She was in trouble.
He turned and headed into the building as fast as he could run, which was considerable. He saw Jean lying on the ground, Scott kneeling beside her, looking up at him with fear, unhidden by that blasted visor.
"She's down," Scott announced, keeping his leader cool even though Logan could smell the fear on him, now. "Whatever it was that knocked her out, I think it's gone in there--"
"With Melody," Logan cut her off, and he ran toward the door. Finding it locked, he took in a deep breath through his nose, smelling the air, seeking another entrance before he had to use his strength to knock the first door down.
There was another door. Melody was beside it. Why wasn't she using it? What was wrong with her?
He sprinted down the hallway, rounding the corner to see her leaning against the desk, shaking her head, trying to clear it. Only a second later did he realize that there were two fighting figures in the room, and both of them were people he recognized.
Mystique and Toad.
He vaguely wondered what the hell was going on as he grabbed Melody by her arm and dragged her a good distance away, out into the cleaner air of the hallway. He clasped her shoulders in his hands and caught the smell coming form her face.
It was Toad, only much more foul. And it was coming from her mouth?
"What the hell did you do?" he asked.
She blinked up at him, finally coming back to herself--mostly, at least. "I...needed help," she said, "and I paid the price."
"What did you do?" he demanded again.
"I kissed him," she admitted sheepishly.
He wrinkled his nose in repulsion. "Good God! You're drinking a whole fifth of whiskey before your lips touch mine again."
She would have made a scathingly sarcastic reply as her eyes flared up into his, but the struggle from the other room had ceased, and suddenly Toad was in the doorway. He looked from Logan to Melody, his face clearly showing signs of fatigue.
"She's down," he said, his voice soft, that strange tone she would never have expected from him.
"Yeah, we heard," Logan snarled, getting Melody behind him.
Then, Toad chuckled. He looked from one to the other again, and nodded. "Ah...I get it. The calvary has arrived."
Melody stepped out from behind Logan, staggering a bit drunkenly. She swatted Logan's shoulder, as if his presence were an annoyance. "He's just being overprotective," she explained, even as one of Logan's claws came out of its sheath of flesh. "Hang on," she told him irritably, waving her hand. "Toad's not going to hurt me."
He shook his head, sighing. "No, I'm not." He looked wistfully at Logan and then back to her. "Well, thanks for not lying to me."
"I didn't want to," she said. "I hope you understand. It's not personal."
He shrugged. "I'm used to it, I guess," he said, then looked back at Mystique. "Although you could make it up to me by letting me go."
"That," came a dark voice from behind them, "is something you won't have to worry about, Toad. Now fall back."
Logan's muscles froze, but not from fear. He couldn't move. Not a single inch.
For from the far end of the hallway approached Magneto.
"Shit," Wolverine swore under his breath a mere second before he was lifted up and slammed back against the metal bracings of a nearby score of windows. The glass shattered and Melody had to throw her hands up and shield her face from the spray.
When she was able to lower her arms, she got a look at him. He was not what she had expected. He seemed almost mild-mannered, his expression impeccably calm, his clothing a dignified grey, rather futuristic-looking suit with a long cape draped over one arm. On his head was a helmet of some kind that had flaps that came up and covered his cheeks, but she could see the silver hair beneath it. His eyes, like steel, and the set of his jaw gave a nearly fatherly impression as they took her in, but the second they turned up to Logan, the hateful sneer was like a blow to Melody's head.
"Isn't it wonderful," he mocked, "how we always manage to arrange these lovely, spontaneous get togethers? I do love a good party." He grinned, coldly, calculatingly, as Logan's claws came sliding out his hands, stretching long and wide. Painfully wide. Melody winced, feeling his pain as keenly as if it were her own.
"Stop it!" she barked, glaring at Magneto.
Spread eagle like he was, Logan was almost helpless, but he was trying to move--so hard the sweat ran from his temples thick like blood. Magneto's cruel grin curled around his mouth.
"No one can say I don't learn my lessons well," he purred. "My mistake last time was leaving you in one piece. But with that lovely metal inside of your body, I can tear you apart-- and not even your wonderfully handy healing factor could survive dismemberment--" and then he paused, considering, "or maybe it can. Maybe I'll have to experiment...see how long it takes for you to die. It could take days, weeks." He chuckled.
Logan just sneered at him. "Whatever," he said. And then his face contorted into a mask of agony and he let out a screech that nearly drove Melody to her knees with its vibrations through her mind.
"Maybe I'll just totally break you. Better to have you live and suffer than die and go where I can't watch your pain."
Melody glared up at him, drawing on Logan's incredible strength. "That's enough, Erik," she said.
He looked down at her, his expression one of distaste, like he'd just eaten a very sour grape. "Charles?" he asked softly. "Don't you think you need to get a new line?"
She got to her feet. "No Charles here," she declared. "Just me. I don't think we've met. My name's Melody."
"How charming," he snorted. "You will address me as Magneto." Casually, he looked to Toad. "Dispose of her," he ordered.
Toad just stared back at him.
"Well?" Magneto barked. "Do as I tell you!"
Toad looked to Melody, who shot him a smile.
"Sorry," Toad sighed. "I can't do that."
"Why not?" His voice was so ugly and harsh through the hall that Melody flinched.
Toad shrugged. "I don't kiss and tell."
The shock on Magneto's dignified face was comical. Then, abruptly, it melted and he began giggling in delight. "You kissed him?" he laughed, turning back to her. "You fool...a more painful death I wouldn't wish on anyone."
It was both Toad and Melody's turn to be surprised. "What?" they said in unison.
"Melody," Magneto said with mocking patience, "what happens when you kiss a toad?"
"He turns into a prince?" she ventured.
Magneto shook his head. "You must not have been a very adventurous teenager-- hallucinagenics? Ring any bells? Pretty soon you'll be seeing little pygmies dancing across the floor. Or maybe as your furry friend here dies you'll actually find his painful movements rather amusing. Whatever the case, it's too much for a simple mutant like you to withstand. After the visions pass, or maybe not even that long, you're going to die a most wretched death from the remains of the poison. If you exchanged your kiss right before I arrived, it should all start happening here within the next twenty minutes."
She glared at him, pressing hard. "You're bluffing," she muttered, but within seconds she knew he was not.
"Why don't we wait and see? Even if it doesn't kill you, at any rate, you're going to wish that you were dead." He spared a glance at Logan, who was glaring at him with all the hate in the universe. "And from Wolverine's reaction, I think he's not going to like that very much, not at all." His glance back to her turned sly. "Maybe he was planning on your whelping his puppies."
Melody gritted her teeth. "Why are you like this?" she asked. "Why do you hate him so much?"
"He got in my way," Magneto declared. "He won't do so again."
Logan screeched again. Melody gathered all her strength and pushed into him with her mind--at first she hit a terrible barrier, and remembered what the Professor had told her about Magneto's helmet--it kept out telepaths.
But Melody was not a telepath. She was an empath. And there was no way that the emotions of this caliber from mutant or otherwise was going to be contained by a simple shield. All she had to do was wait--
It came sliding out toward her, like thick black smoke in her vision. It was taking a shape, and it carried with it all the hate and fear that could have rivaled hell itself.
It was a crooked cross. A swastika.
Melody drew it to herself, cringing at the cold the emotion seemed to bring with it. He was carrying this around inside himself, this overwhelming fear of this symbol, this hate of it and any institution like it that was so overpowering he could barely contain it within his being. It threatened to break forth from him and rain down upon all of mankind, upon all who wished to catalogue and contain mutanity within the confines of barbed wire and death camps. He could barely live with it, it pressed upon his heart so heavily.
It was his drive. What made him work. She pulled it away, sucking it out of his heart like mist.
He paused, and Logan's shriek abruptly died on his lips. The steel eyes turned to her, and unconsciously his hand went to his helmet. "What are you doing?" he whispered.
From behind her, Melody was vaguely aware of what was going on. Scott had revived Jean and they were trying to decide whether or not to split up. Breaking off just a tendril of her concentration, Melody reached out on a wave of emotion and aimed it at Jean.
*I need your help.*
Within seconds, she heard footsteps--Scott was heading back to the jet to make sure that Sabertooth wasn't lurking around outside, knowing the hard-on that beast had for Storm. Jean responded to her call, but as she approached she hesitated, not quite knowing yet what Melody wanted her to do.
As Melody didn't quite know herself.
Magneto stepped toward her. "What have you done?" he asked, but his voice lacked force. She looked to him, returning all of her concentration onto that single, black image, and then, abruptly, she cupped her hand as if she were actually holding a solid object. He gasped and took several steps back.
"Looking for this?" Melody said, her own voice sounding like wind against her ears. She felt a slight wave of shock come from around her, and realized that everyone had stepped away. A second later, she realized that she wasn't touching the ground. The tips of her toes were just a centimeter away from the floor.
From her cupped palm came a floating black mist. The cross grew out from it, its prongs long and ugly, like the legs of a spider. They notched and bent and twisted and wiggled like a living thing, growing bigger as it radiated from her.
Fear. She had found his fear--the memory came riding up a few minutes later, the memory of him standing outside of the gates where they had just imprisoned his parents, forever separating them. His despair as he realized that he would never see them alive again. His fear as the officers gripped him, dragging him away, his pain as he tried to pull the gate open with his will alone, only to have that damn swastika come between him and control once again. He remembered the hate he'd felt for them, the vengeance he had desired.
She showed it all to him, making him feel it all over again, making him look at it and see it for what it was. He couldn't take it. His concentration shattered and Logan came crumbling to the floor. He looked to Toad, his expression one of a desperate, begging man.
"If you can't kill her," he rasped, "then kill him."
This was a new order--even if he couldn't bring himself to kill Melody, smacking around Wolverine, the obstacle between him and the one woman who had dared to kiss him, was a delightful thought he had no problem turning into a reality. So he lunged forward and grabbed the weakened Logan, who took only a few seconds to recover himself and begin to fight back.
Jean stepped closer to Melody, reaching out with her mind. Melody showed her, asked her, told her what to do. Jean followed the dark channel of emotion right into Magneto's head, bypassing the shield in a way that Professor Xavier had never thought to do. She rode the curve of emotion right into the core of his memories, and she saw what Melody saw.
*We have to make him see,* Melody sent to her. *Show him.*
Jean called into her mind the broken body of Logan, when healing Rogue had nearly killed him. She called into her mind the helplessness she had felt, being strapped to the inside of the Statue of Liberty. And then she realized what Melody wanted to do.
"You're no better than they are," Jean said aloud, looking down at Magneto.
Jean had been training in her ability to mentally project images, but this was the first time she'd ever had to do it in battle. The slithering, evil swastika twisted away from Melody's hand and enclosed itself over Magneto's form. In outrage, Magneto rose, but it was too late--as he looked down at himself, he saw it. The uniform. He felt the hat on his head and threw it down, only to realize a second later that he had taken off the helmet and now was completely at their mercy.
"No better, indeed," Melody said. "You're just like them. You want to control humans the same way the humans wanted to control you. You wanted to exterminate them the same way the Nazi's wanted to exterminate you. You haven't defeated them, Erik. *You've become them.*"
The last thing Magneto heard was his own scream as he lost consciousness. It echoed off the tile walls like the inside of a gas chamber, hissing away into oblivion.
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