Crusade: Part 3
by Alicia McKenzie
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Marvel, and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. Rated a strong PG-13 for violence and character death.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Many thanks to Persephone and Lynxie for in-progress beta-reading, and a large number of the #plotting crew for final approval. :) Dedicated to Oberon, Mitai and Lynxie for constantly reminding me that I had a semi-psychotic Cable lying bleeding in the snow who needed a little attention, and to Matt for a particularly well-timed bit of encouragment. :)
Like a crack of thunder, the gunshot jolted Sam Guthrie from semi-consciousness. He flinched instinctively, expecting pain, but as the echo faded, he realized quickly enough that he hadn't been shot. Coughing, he pushed himself up. . .and his whole body jerked in an involuntary spasm as the memory of where he was and what had been happening hit him like a kick to the gut.
He looked around wildly, and a moan of denial tore free from somewhere deep in his chest as he saw Cable sprawled unmoving in the snow beside him. Blood covered the side of his face, crimson spreading across the white of the snow beneath. The sight drove every thought of wariness, every flicker of caution out of Sam's mind, and he crawled forward to Cable's side, his heart thudding sickly in his chest.
"Cable. . .c'mon, sir. . ." he choked, reaching out a shaking hand to check for a pulse. Finding one, weak but steady, he bowed his head for a moment, shuddering with relief.
Then, training took over. Ripping the sleeve off his uniform, he pressed it against the wound. From the looks of it, the bullet had only grazed his skull; there was a lot of blood, but head wounds were messy, he knew that. Cable would be. . .had to be all right. Sam raised his head, looking around desperately for someone to help him. But there were still Dark Riders everywhere, and. . .
A hand fell on his shoulder, and he nearly turned and decked the owner before the person dropped to his knees beside him and Sam saw it was Scott. "You okay?" Scott rasped. Sam nodded jerkily, and Scott's eyes dropped to Cable's face. He pulled Sam's hand away for a moment, checking the wound, and swallowed visibly as he let go. "We've got to get him back to the plane. Before he comes to or. . ."
"Or what, Summers?"
The voice was colder than ice and so deep that the ground itself seemed to vibrate at the sound. Sam moved instinctively, switching on his blast field and rocketing at the enormous, blue-armored figure before it had stepped entirely clear of the portal.
Apocalypse batted him away like a fly, right into the middle of the fighting, and Sam found himself surrounded by Dark Riders even before he could get to his feet.
***
Once, what seemed like a lifetime ago on the moon, with his infant son's weakening cries filling his ears, Scott Summers had put everything he had, every bit of rage and grief in his heart, into one titanic optic blast that had destroyed the being who had tried to destroy his family.
Or so he'd thought.
He hadn't made that mistake for long, of course. The X-Men had encountered Apocalypse after that, more than once. But right now, Apocalypse standing in front of him and his son lying bleeding at his feet, the last thing Scott was thinking about was the past, let alone that he was in some way repeating it, a mocking echo of what had been.
All he knew was anger, and he gave into it, cutting loose as he felt his face twist into a mask of exertion and pure hatred. Very few times in his life had he ever wanted to kill, and although this was one such time, there was more to it than that. He didn't just want to kill the monster, he wanted him to suffer. Wanted him to die a thousand deaths for every bit of pain he'd seen in Nathan's eyes.
It missed, as Apocalypse sidestepped the attack so swiftly that Scott didn't even see the blur of movement. It was more as if the External had just. . .shifted himself out of the way, with a thought. Scott hit the ground as an enormous fist flew at him, a blow that might have taken his head off if it had connected.
"I have been expecting you for some time now, Summers," Apocalypse rumbled, following up the attack with another. Scott rolled desperately to his feet, blasting at Apocalypse again. Again, a miss, and a glancing blow from the External knocked him head over heels into the snow. "You and these others. I could have wished for more time to prepare him, but this has not turned out badly, all things considered. I trust you have learned from what you found."
Scott staggered back to his feet. He wanted to to swear, or cry, or throw control to the wind and attack Apocalypse with his bare hands and his teeth. . .he wasn't sure which. His next blast hit Apocalypse head-on, but barely even managed to stagger him. Scott backed away, hating himself for even that much of a retreat. But the battle was still raging around them, the Dark Riders keeping the rest of the X-Men busy.
*Jean!*
#Scott. . .can't reach you. . .#
He was on his own, then. Damn. "I won't let you have him," Scott snarled. Apocalypse feinted, almost lazily, and laughed thunderously as Scott overreacted.
"You mistake my intentions, Summers. . ."
"Oh, save it!" Scott lashed out with another optic blast, no more effectual than any of the others. "He's unconscious! He can't hear you! Just tell me why, you sick bastard!"
"Why what, Summers?" Apocalypse asked, still driving him back, away from Nathan. "Why have I saved him from the needless death his foolish quest would have earned him, in the end? Why have I freed your 'weapon' to think for himself?"
"Damn you!" Scott nearly howled, firing another enormous optic blast. Apocalypse took a step back at the impact, but shook it off almost instantly.
"You accuse me of holding him against his will," the High Lord said impassively. "Of using him. Listen to yourself, Cyclops. You speak of him as if he were a possession you have lost to another."
"He's my son!"
"The curse of kinship, indeed. Tell me," Apocalypse said, still driving him back, away from Nathan. "How will you feel when you see him again? When he comes to finish this, and put an end to you? For he will, Summers. You will die by your own son's hand, and he will stand laughing over your corpse. . ."
#Nice imagery,# snarled a ragged but familiar mind-voice, and Scott raised a hand futilely to shield his eyes as Nate Grey floated down from mid-air, lashing out at Apocalypse with his telekinesis. The air glowed so brightly gold the light was almost painful to look at. #Should we just cut through the bluster and get to the part where you die painfully?#
And Apocalypse started to laugh.
***
She'd shot Nathan.
She'd shot him. The thought echoed in her mind, back and forth as if there was nothing else there, only the knowledge of what she'd done, the memory of her finger tensing on the trigger.
But she hadn't had a choice. Sam. . .he'd been about to hurt, maybe kill Sam. . .
She'd SHOT him. Three months of nothing but waiting for this day, of little else than worrying and wondering and crying herself to what little sleep she could manage before the nightmares started, and she'd shot him.
Domino broke into a staggering run, ignoring the fighting continuing around her, not even seeing Nate Grey and Scott facing off against Apocalypse. Strangely enough, no one stopped her, and no Dark Riders got in her way. Not that she would have stopped for longer than it took to get them out of her way, if they had.
It didn't even occur to her to question that particular turn of luck. All she could see was Nathan. All she could feel was that silence on the link, a palpable darkness as cold as the snow itself, and the terror that raged inside her, so overwhelming she couldn't even give voice to it. No. Not like this. It wasn't going to end like this. . .
#Nathan!# No answer. She fell to her knees beside his prone body, glancing frantically at Apocalypse. Laughing, the bastard was laughing. . .but Nate seemed to be holding his own. For now. Scott was trying to help him, and the other X-Men, all of X- Force, were still fighting the Riders.
None of them were even looking in her direction. She didn't even dare shout for help, in case it was Apocalypse's attention she attracted.
Her mind ricocheted around for a few panicked heartbeats more before logic took over. Fuck it. She'd known something like this could happen, that they. . .that she could be left with no other option than to take him down. The head wound wasn't as bad as it looked. . .the important thing now was to get him out of here, safely back to the planes, before he came to or Apocalypse came after him, or all of this would be for nothing. This might be the only chance they had. She reached out with shaking hands to pull him off the ground, trying not to see the blood.
And his eyes snapped open, meeting hers.
Off balance, she froze, and could only stare back. She couldn't draw back, couldn't reach forward. His mismatched eyes held her still, the sheer force of his gaze trapping her there, immobile and helpless.
Nathan moved first, almost frighteningly fast, and the air was driven from her lungs in a rush as he slammed her into the snow. Before she could even begin to try and counter, he had her pinned, unable to do anything more than strain helplessly against his greater weight.
Inwardly, Domino cursed herself bitterly. *How fucking stupid was THAT, idiot?* she raged. She'd always been at a huge disadvantage when things got up close and personal with him. Give her a little breathing room, and she could hold her own; a weapon, or the advantage of surprise, and she had a respectable chance. But she was always in trouble if he managed to get her in a position like this. Even when they were just sparring.
And now. . .
"You shouldn't have come." His voice was a ragged, unsteady whisper, barely audible even though he was so close. "I. . .I thought. . ."
"Thought what?" Dom gritted out, pushing backwards experimentally. He didn't even budge, and she bit back a groan. "Damn it, Nate, get off me!"
"Why?" A little louder, and a fair bit wilder. "So you can shoot me again?" His grip tightened, enough to draw a snarl of pain from her.
"For the love of. . .you were about to kill Sam! SAM, you screwed-up son of a bitch! What the FUCK did he put in your head that would make you hurt one of our kids, Nate?"
He didn't answer. She could feel tremors running through the body pressed so closely against hers, heard his heart pounding in frantic counterpoint to her own. "I. . .can't. . ." he finally muttered, something close to panic underlying the words. "I don't. . .know why. . ."
He moved away suddenly, as if desperate to break physical contact with her. Domino rolled and flipped back to her feet, glancing around swiftly for her gun. Couldn't see it. . .it had to be here somewhere, she must've dropped it when he'd taken her down. . .
Nathan backed away from her, swaying on his feet, his eyes not quite focused. "Don't," he rasped, pale as the snow itself beneath the blood. "You said you didn't. . .that you. . ." He blinked rapidly. "Why are you helping them?"
Anguish stabbed along the shadowed link, almost penetrating Madelyne's shield, and Domino flinched. But she kept her voice harsh as she answered, following some instinct she didn't quite understand.
"Why am I helping THEM? Did that bullet do THAT much damage? Why the fuck are YOU fighting for APOCALYPSE?" She circled him warily, careful not to get too close. "We know he's been screwing with your head, Nate. . ."
"Stop saying that!" he snapped, eyes suddenly blazing. She could sense his anger, but there was something else there, too. Doubt. . .desperation. "I know. . .I know what I remember. . ."
"Bullshit!" she flared. "I don't give a rat's ass what he put in there, Nate, you know better than this! Whatever you think we did to you, you should have at least enough common sense left NOT to run right into the arms of your worst enemy!"
"You don't. . .you don't know what you're talking about," he said unsteadily, staggering, going to one knee for a moment before he pulled himself back up. "I'm not. . ."
"Making any sense at all? I already figured that out." She took a step towards him, stopping when he flinched so violently that he almost fell. "Think, damn you," she hissed, trying to ignore the way her vision blurred at the edges. Something was happening, she could feel it, sense it even through the shield. Pain pulsed along the link, ice-cold and white-hot at the same time, so bad it nearly drove HER to her knees. She didn't know how he was managing to stay on his feet. "It's pretty fucking obvious that he jacked up your abilities somehow. Think for a minute, Nate. . .you USED to be good at that, putting all the emotional crap away and thinking logically! We can't ALL be lying to you, mind-to-mind! You've got to be able to see that!" She bit her lip, and took a chance. "Can you even read Apocalypse?" she asked tautly.
His breathing was quickening, coming in great, tearing gasps, and he reached up with shaking hands, gripping his head as if trying to keep something within it contained, something that was trying to explode into freedom. "N-Not real," he said weakly.
"Why would we be here, Nate?" she continued ruthlessly, swaying a little on her feet. The pain was getting worse. "If we hated you, if you didn't mean anything to us. . .if we honest to God thought you'd screwed up and driven you away because of it, WHY WOULD WE BE HERE? Damn you, stop focusing on whatever he's planted in that addled head of yours and start listening to what we're saying, what we're feeling! You're a fucking telepath, you idiot!" she almost screamed at him. "THINK!"
Nathan fell to his knees in the snow, eyes wide and unseeing, tears leaking down his cheeks, making tracks in the blood on one side. One arm crept downwards, guarding his side as if shielding injured ribs. His mouth worked silently, nothing coming out, and Domino took another step towards him, dizzied by what she was sensing. The link wasn't darkened anymore, it was so bright it burned, she could feel it burning in her mind. . .
She could feel him.
HEAR him.
#Psimitar. . .can't reach it. . .help me. . .can't lose, not like this, please. . .Rachel. . .wasn't supposed to be like this, help me. . .#
Domino started to stagger forward, reaching out physically and with her mind, pushing past the remnants of Madelyne's shield. *Nate. . .Nate, I'm here. . .it's okay. . .*
The link shivered with panic, with fear like she'd never felt from him before. #Hurts. . .can't get out, have to try. . .so hot. . .he won. . .failed, I failed them. . .can'tremembercan'tthinkcan'tbreathe. . .# The voice rose to almost a scream, the piteous cry of a hurt child lost in the dark. . .
And heads turned all over the battlefield.
#He remembers!# Nate Grey's shout was half- jubilant, half-astounded, and Domino raised a hand helplessly, a cautionary cry catching in her throat as the boy rocketed past her, so close he nearly knocked her off her feet, and started to lower himself to the ground in front of Nathan.
Their eyes met, Nate's eager, searching, Nathan's blind with pain.
#NO!# The telepathic cry was part Xavier, part Jean, a weird composite of the two.
At that point, of course, it was entirely too late.
***
His concentration thrown, for a moment, by the sheer amount of pain his 'brother' was in, Nate Grey recovered as quickly as he could, and plunged into Cable's mind.
#Cable, I can hear you! Cable!#
Fire everywhere. . .no, not fire. This was something else. . .sunlight? But no sunlight he'd ever felt had been so hot, so agonizingly bright. He tried to block it out, to close his astral 'eyes', but he couldn't. It was everywhere, merciless, inescapable. Searing him right to the bone.
The pain made him desperate. #Cable! Damn it, answer me! I know you're here!#
#. . .hurtsdon'ttouchmedon'tTOUCHME. . .#
Buried. . .that was the problem, Nate thought, searching frantically, scanning as deeply as he dared and ignored the way the light flared around him as his intrusion deepened. This was so frustrating, damn it! He could feel Cable - the Cable he knew - even more strongly in here than he had before, but what he'd sensed was buried.
No.Not just buried. Being CRUSHED beneath something, some kind of block. . .
Something Apocalypse had done? *I'll kill him for this, I swear. . .* It didn't even occur to him that he'd left Cyclops alone to fight the High Lord. All that mattered was right here and now, undoing what Apocalypse had done, and he had the perfect opportunity, all he had to do was reach out and. . .
#. . .stopNOwon'tletyoudothisI'mstillHERE. . .# The voice was a little stronger, filled as much with rage as fear, now.
Resistance. Nate met it and hesitated, balked and frustrated. #I'm trying to help you, old man!# Nate projected. #Let me. . .# He gave up on reasoning with him. Apocalypse had just done too much damage. He had to just DO this, he couldn't let himself hesitate, or he'd miss the chance. . .#I'm sorry.#
He tore into the blockage, determined to get past it. Feeling, almost as if at first-hand, the pain he was inflicting on Cable, as the light blazed and fluttered around him, battering at him like the wings of a bird trying desperately to escape a trap. . .
#Cable!#
If he could just. . .reach that memory, pull it into the forefront. . .he could MAKE Cable see what Apocalypse had done to him, force him to face it. Then he'd understand what was going on, he'd fight with them, instead of against them, and maybe they could stop Apocalypse here and now, get what they both wanted so much. . .
***
Pain. Pain like he hadn't felt since. . .since. . .
He couldn't remember. Couldn't think. The presence tore through his mind, leaving white-hot wreckage in its wake, shredding any defense he tried to throw up. Shouting at him, but he couldn't make any sense of the words. . .
Had to fight. Couldn't let anyone inside his mind, not anymore.
Too close. . .getting too close. . .he couldn't remember, couldn't let himself remember, or it would. . .he would. . .
#Don't. . .#
Probing deeper, breaking through. . .
And there were fragments flying everywhere, swirling into a spiral drawn upwards by some unimaginable, inexorable force. Bits of him, pieces of his soul, breaking apart and vanishing into the void. . .
#No. . .stop. . .#
Killing him, destroying what he was, and he felt even his awareness of what was happening start to shatter and fade. . .
But he remembered just enough, and panic erupted from somewhere deep inside him, exploded outwards, the only thing he could feel, the only thing he knew. . .
#STOP!#
***
Jean pushed herself up out of the snow, gasping. #Nate! No! Don't, you don't understand. . .#
Nate and Nathan were both glowing, almost incandescently as the psionic energies around them grew to dangerous levels. Offense and defense, she could see and sense the structures the energy was taken, a classic psi-duel. . .
Only there was something else building, another force entirely, blazing into existence inside Nathan's mind in direct reaction to Nate's well- meaning but horrifically destructive intrusion. Jean could see it, like a coiled snake in mid-strike. . .
And she knew what it was meant to do. Understood, in that moment, exactly what Apocalypse had done, as the High Lord's failsafe started to destroy Nathan's mind.
#Stop it, Nate! STOP!# she screamed him. He was so totally absorbed in what he was doing, she didn't sense even a flicker of response. #You're triggering a mindwipe!# She reached out to try and stop him, drawing on reserves she didn't even know she had.
Not in time.
***
*. . .can't breathe. . .*
Not going to die like this. Not now, not after. . .
But everything was disintegrating. Dead leaves, blowing in the wind.
Standing on the edge of a precipice, the void yawning in front of him. . .
So easy to fall. So much pain. . .
*. . .not like this. . .*
Let go.
*. . .no. . .NEVER. . .*
Hate to live for.
Hold on.
Fight back.
*Fight back. . .*
***
Nate Grey's eyes flew open in shock, his mouth moving soundlessly in a single, agonized gasp as the pain hit. His heart fluttered to a stop as his mind began to pull itself apart at the seams.
He looked down into Cable's eyes, glowing with power, burning with madness.
Then his mind exploded, and he died.
***
Domino couldn't do anything but watch.
Nate Grey's lifeless body slumped to the ground. Somehow, before she could even register that he wasn't breathing, or process the fact of the shocked, frozen expression on his face, or the blood pouring from his nose and ears, she knew he was dead.
Nathan stared down at him for a moment, the golden light around him contracting, fading. Stared down at him, absolutely no comprehension in his eyes, his expression just as frozen, just as immovable.
"No." It was barely audible, little more than a whimper. "No. . ."
#. . .nononononononononoNONONONONONO!!!# The scream ripped through her mind, ripped through the mind of everyone there on the battlefield, staggering them all, X-Man and Dark Rider alike.
Maybe even Apocalypse.
A wave of pure white light exploded out from Nathan's falling, convulsing form. Domino raised a hand futilely, instinctively, to shield herself, but the TK wave hit her head on, hurling her back into the snow with crushing force. Later, much later, she would realize that it was only her mutant ability that had saved her life.
Now, though, she laid there, stunned, in pain as bad as anything she'd ever felt. Every breath was torture, but she fought for each, battled the pain for consciousness as she listened to the anguished cries across the link, the screams of a soul long past the breaking point and yet somehow aware, even through all the lies, all the confusion, all the suffering, that an irrevocable act had just been committed. That, come what may, there was no turning back. . .
Then she heard another voice shouting. Scott, calling for a retreat. She started to push herself up out of the snow, tasting blood at the back of her throat, her whole body burning, but she ignored it all.
She wasn't going anywhere. Not without him. Not even now. . .especially not now. . .
When strong arms picked her up, carrying her away from him, she struggled, screaming at Jimmy in a voice she barely recognized as her own to let her go, put her down, let her go back to him. . .
He didn't. He just kept running in the opposite direction, holding her more tightly, if anything.
"Dom, hold on. . .Dom, stay with me!"
"Nathan. . ." she croaked, ignoring Jimmy's pleas. "Nathan. . ." She could still feel him, but the link was shutting down, withering under the pain from both sides. He was turning in on himself, pulling into the shadows.
Falling.
Drowning.
She could still hear him screaming.
As Jimmy passed her to someone else, jostling her so that the pain reached up in a sudden swell and carried her away, she realized that she always would.
***
Apocalypse stood against the waves and waves of telekinetic force that poured off Cable. He ignored the X-Men making their escape, spared not a thought for his Dark Riders, being battered and tossed around by the psi-storm like flotsam on the sea.
So much power. . .
Totally out of control.
He strode forward, plowing through the TK waves with very little effort towards the near-incandescent form on his hands and knees on the ground, at the center of the disturbance. "Control yourself!" he thundered. Cable's whole body jerked and his head snapped up, unseeing eyes looking over Apocalypse's shoulder, not focusing on anything.
Apocalypse growled, shaking his head doggedly as he felt something. . .snatch at him, hesitantly, almost experimentally, like a child grasping at something unknown but colorful. "Enough!" he snarled. The touch came again, more insistent this time, almost a tug, and Apocalypse lashed out instinctively, a glancing blow sending Cable toppling into the snow, limp and senseless.
The psi-storm died instantly. But the air was still heavy with power, and Apocalypse's mood grew only darker as he saw many of his Dark Riders lying motionless on the ground, not even beginning to rise. Dead, from the looks of it. Individually they meant nothing to him, but together, they only added more to what this day had cost.
And the final cost was yet to be tallied. Apocalypse glanced down at Longrifle as the Dark Rider came up beside him silently, looking considerably the worse for wear but more or less intact. "Have the child's body taken inside," he said curtly. "It may be useful." There was no sign of any of the X-Men, alive or dead. He knelt down beside Cable, turning him over onto his back. His paladin's blank unconsciousness was vaguely unnerving. How much damage had he done himself, with today's foolishness?
Would all of his work with the boy be forfeit? The thought. . .angered him. "It seems your father knows the value of a strategic retreat," he murmured tautly. "I could have wished you to burn your bridges more comprehensively, since you were so bent upon this battle. Yet you ARE still here. Still alive, and in my possession. I should consider this a victory."
But he couldn't be certain. Not yet. Not until he knew what was at work in Cable's mind. . .whether the conditioning still held. Whether there was enough left of his mind to be useful, considering what had happened with the boy and the likelihood that the failsafe had been at least partially activated.
"Longrifle."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Have the neural repatterning equipment prepared. I believe I may need to make use of it once more."
to be continued. . .