Hellfire And Damnation
Part Three: Queen's Grace
by Alicia McKenzie
And yet another warning: this story is rated a very serious R for language, violence, and non-consensual sexual themes. If any of that would bother you, don't read any further...
Let go of me, Nate, damn it! I thought at him wildly, trying to pull away from him. I drove an elbow into his ribs, hard, but he only tightened his grip on me. Panic flickered amid the rage, and I strained for leverage, ready to hurt him for real if he didn't let me the fuck go. I told you NOT TO TOUCH ME!
#Then stay THERE!# his voice snarled inside my head, fierce and implacable. It snuffed out my anger like a candle, and I stopped struggling. Shit, I hated that 'he-who-must-be-obeyed' voice of his, but he had a point. If I tried anything with Shaw, he'd probably take a couple of seconds to laugh before he went ahead and swatted me like a bug.
All right. All RIGHT! I shot back. Slowly, cautiously, Nathan let go of me, and then not-so-subtly put himself between me and Shaw. I could have killed him. I didn't need him playing my fucking human shield--
Okay. Maybe I did. I couldn't do a damned thing here--I didn't even have a weapon, not that one would have done me any good. Not against Shaw. Part of me wanted to lunge at him anyway. Another, thankfully smaller part wanted to find the nearest corner and shut the world out--
No. That part could just shut right the fuck up. I had to keep it together. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I could go into shock once we were out of here. Not now. I needed to stay focused. HAD to stay focused.
"You set this up," Nathan said to Shaw, his voice very low, barely more than a soft growl. "This whole flonqing thing, stab your eyes--and now you're whining about unexpected consequences? I wouldn't, Shaw, I really wouldn't. Tessa deserved everything she got, and I haven't even started with you, yet-"
"Arrogance!" Shaw almost spat. He was--seriously pissed. I couldn't remember ever seeing him this close to losing control, and I wondered, a little shakily, exactly what Nate had done to Tessa.
Not that I cared--did I? No, I didn't. Not if she'd done what Nathan said she'd done, and it made too much sense for it not to be true--
"Do you think you would have gotten inside this building if I hadn't permitted it?" Sebastian ranted. "No one would have stood in your way! You had every chance to retrieve her and leave! And yet you DARE attack my--someone under my protection? Did you truly think I'd allow you to escape the repercussions?"
"You're missing the point, Shaw," Nathan growled, and I couldn't help a shiver at his tone. There was something very ugly in the words, something that made me want out of here, away from BOTH of them. "What I did to Tessa WERE the repercussions. For you."
Shaw took a step forward--and ran into what had to be a telekinetic shield. He swung at it, gold light flaring around his fist at the point of contact, and Nathan flinched. "You expect this to protect you?" Sebastian snarled, and slammed a fist into the shield once more, provoking another flash of light and another reaction from Nathan. "You fool! This could have been over with Grant's death!" He hit the shield again, the flare almost blinding, and this time, Nathan took a staggering step backwards, as if he'd suddenly lost his balance.
I reached out instinctively to support him. Nate, damn it, you're just pissing him off! I sent, more shrilly than I'd intended. But this was insane! Shaw would suck the energy right out of the shield and use it against us. I looked around wildly, taking in the rest of the room for the first time. No windows. No other exit. Grant's private little play-room, undoubtedly--
No way out. Except through Shaw--
Nathan jerked away from me with a snarl. #Over? This is never going to be over, Sebastian!# The air between them turned briefly incandescent, and a grunt escaped Sebastian as the telekinetic shockwave flung him to the floor, incidentally taking out a sizeable chunk of the wall behind him. #You all but handed her over to that sick bastard, just so you could dupe me into being your X-wearing scapegoat for Grant's death!#
But Shaw was on his feet again, before I could even point out to Nate what a colossally stupid move that had been on his part. "If you knew the game," he snarled, "you should have played by the RULES!" He lashed out, and Nathan went sprawling, his head hitting the floor with a dull thud.
And I couldn't feel his presence in my mind any more. Panic surged up and nearly choked me as I crouched down beside him. Had he blacked out? Nate, damn it--
A golden flicker, and somehow, he was back. #I'm okay--#
"You are a self-deluding fool!" Shaw growled down at him. "She is irrelevant, and you--you were MADE to be used, Cable! Do you truly believe I'm ignorant of your origins?"
Irrelevant. I'd been bait. Bait. The part of me yearning to rip out Shaw's throat fought to the forefront. Bait. Again. Used, again. I might have gone for him then, despite everything, but Nate beat me to it.
#FLONQ YOU!# The air glowed again, even more fiercely this time, but instead of striking directly at Sebastian, Nathan wrapped him in a TK bubble that rose smoothly until it was several inches off the floor. #You know NOTHING about me, Sebastian! NOTHING! If I could do the same thing to you that I did to Grant for what you did to her, you bastard, I WOULD!#
"Nate," I said raggedly, trying to help him as he struggled to his feet. "Nate, that won't hold him." Amazingly, enough, I wasn't feeling conflicted anymore. The only thing that made sense, right now, was getting out, and we had to do it while he had Sebastian trapped. Before 'reinforcements' showed up--
"It doesn't have to hold for long--" Nathan grated, shuddering as Shaw swore and set about trying to break through the bubble. But his gaze was fixed on Shaw, strangely distant. I got the distinct sense that I could have waved a hand in front of his eyes and he wouldn't have noticed. "Just--for a minute--" Blood started to trickle from his nose, and he swayed on his feet again.
Shaw suddenly went to his knees inside the TK bubble, clutching at his head. "Get--out of my mind!" he snarled, his breathing growing labored. He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, and Nathan gasped, nearly falling. "You think you can break my mind?" Shaw growled shakily, getting back to his feet and hitting the shield again. "You, a novice telepath?"
Nathan's eyes were closed, his face twisted into a rictus of pain and something else, something I couldn't decipher. #I may be a novice--but you're headblind, Sebastian. You can't--keep me out forever!#
"I don't HAVE to!" Sebastian snarled, and hit the shield once more, putting all of his weight behind the blow. Nathan's whole body jerked as if he'd taken the hit himself. Sebastian saw it, a savage smile tearing across his features as he continued to batter at the shield. "You're defeating yourself, Summers!"
Sebastian was right. By the time he got out of the TK bubble, Nate would be so weakened that he wouldn't be any match for him at all. We had to get out of here, now. I pulled at Nate futilely. It was like trying to move a mountain. He ignored me completely.
#Overconfidence--is going to be the death of you yet, Shaw--#
Even though it wasn't directed at me, I felt it, like a small star going nova inside my skull, a silent explosion of golden fire like nothing I'd felt from Nate before. Even the edge of it scorched me right to the core, and a scream escaped me as I doubled over in pain--
But it was gone, a moment later. Gone, leaving me a burned-out, empty shell. I straightened, with something far too close to a whimper for my peace of mind, and blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision.
Shaw was lying on the ground, staring blindly at the ceiling, his face utterly blank and blood running from his nose and ears. Nathan was on his hands and knees at my feet, shaking.
Somehow, I found my voice. "Nate," I rasped. "Get up." He didn't move. "Nate." I could hear shouting outside in the hall, getting closer. "Get UP--" He looked up at me, squinting, raising a hand as if the light was hurting his eyes. I grabbed his arm and tried futilely to haul him to his feet. He was too heavy, and my muscles felt like they had no strength left in them at all. "Damn you, Nate, GET UP!"
"D-Don't shout--" he said in a cracked whisper, trying to rise. His knees gave out on him and he sank back to the floor. "Get out," he breathed. "Go--I'll catch up--"
"Like hell," I choked out, kneeling down beside him. I could feel the tears running down my cheeks, what the fuck was I doing, crying? "Get up, you stupid son of a bitch--don't make me drag your sorry ass out of here--"
"So--flonqing stubborn," he gasped, and before I could do anything more than flinch, I was being pulled along with him as he made it all the way back to his feet this time. He took my face between his hands for a moment, dazed eyes searching mine for something. "Stay behind me," he said exhaustedly. "Just in case. N-Not sure I can manage a mindwipe, but I can shield us--"
I nodded jerkily. "Let's get out of here," I said hoarsely, taking his hands in mine and squeezing for a moment before I let go. That gesture of his--it was too much, right now. Too tender. I didn't want to remember it in connection with anything that had happened in this room.
"It'll be all right, Dom," he muttered, wiping blood away from his mouth. The glow coming from his eyes changed, growing brighter again, not the dull, pulsing flicker it had been since he'd taken Shaw down. "I promise--"
"I'm going to hold you to that," I said with a cracked laugh. I wanted to believe that. I wanted, as much as it hurt my pride, to imagine that somehow, some way, he could make this all better. "Can I kick him on the way out?" Humor, coping humor. Maybe I wasn't losing it after all. Maybe.
"Be my guest."
Then again, why bother? "Let's get out of here," I whispered, and we did.
Out in the hall, I could see security guards rushing towards Grant's rooms from what seemed like every direction. Nathan reached out and pulled me back against the wall, and several of them ran right past us without giving us so much as a look. We nearly got run over on the stairs, too, but they moved around us, like they were being subtly redirected. New trick on Nate's part. Someone had been picking things up from his mother--or mothers. I could feel the laugh trying to escape. I didn't let it. The more either of us said or did, the more he had to work to mask it.
He had his arm around my shoulders. It tightened a bit. Almost comfortingly. #We're almost there, Dom. It'll be all right--# his voice whispered in my mind.
And we were. The bottom of the stairs. Through the entrance hall--
Out the doors. It was raining, the rain coming down in a torrent out of an iron-gray sky.
It felt--good. I could have stood there in it forever.
We caught a taxi, about a block away from the Club. I gave the driver directions back to my hotel.
I didn't look back, as we drove away.
***
There wasn't enough hot water in the world. But standing in the shower, letting it hit me in the face, I could almost pretend that there was, pretend that I could wash the afternoon away, and feel clean again. I'd walked from the door of my room right to the shower, not looking back, not knowing anything except that I had to get the scent of him off my skin before the nausea churning in the pit of my stomach got the better of me.
I turned the hot water up a few notches, until it was almost painful. Reaction hadn't set in yet, I knew that. I felt numb, as if I were sleepwalking, or drugged. I half-wished I could just fall apart and get it over with, but part of me was already working away busily, boxing up what had happened in that room at the Hellfire Club and putting it behind locked door after locked door. Shutting it away, along with all the other memories that didn't belong in the light of day.
Repression was a handy thing, at times. Unhealthy as all get out, but handy. I'd had no small talent at it for as long as I could remember, and the gift had only been--nurtured with eighteen odd years of association with a master of the art.
Nathan. My grip tightened spasmodically around the bar of soap, and it slipped out of my hand, falling to the floor of the shower. He was out there in the bedroom. Doing what, I didn't know. I was listening, despite everything, for his knock at the bathroom door. I didn't want him trying to 'check on me', but I was still listening.
I hadn't said a word to him since we'd gotten in the taxi. What was there to say? 'Thank you, but I wish you'd gotten there five minutes earlier'? I didn't even know how he'd gotten there, why he'd come alone, how he'd know at all. Shaw--Shaw had to have told him. That's what all of that had been about.
You all but handed her over to that sick bastard, just so you could dupe me into being your X-wearing scapegoat for Grant's death!
Fuck! Fuck Shaw and Grant both. I leaned forward, shivering despite the heat of the water, bracing myself against the shower wall with both hands. My knees felt like they were debating whether or not to hold me.
Why stop with Shaw and Grant? I thought wildly. Fuck the whole Hellfire Club and their damned power games. Fuck me for falling into the whole thing like a rank amateur.
Fuck Nathan for being so--fucking--USEFUL that everyone he gave a damn about was worth their weight in gold as a pawn.
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wondering rather desolately as I toweled my hair dry if I was going to have to be watching my back for Hellfire Club assassins now, too. As if I didn't have enough enemies already-- If Shaw survived - and damn it, I hadn't even stopped to check if he was dead! - he was more than likely going to hold a grudge. Against Nate, certainly.
Against me? Maybe. If he decided to carry on playing blood for blood, pain for pain--
I really should have asked Nathan what he'd done to Tessa. Just from Shaw's reaction, though--I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
I reached out, wiping the fog from the mirror with my towel. My reflection stared back at me expressionlessly. Bruised face, haunted eyes.
I looked like shit.
I turned away from the mirror and pulled on the terrycloth robe hanging on the back of the door. It was warm and thick and clean, and a little too big on me.
I couldn't dwell on what had happened with Grant, I told myself feverishly as I double-knotted the sash of the robe. Not now. Not when I didn't know whether or not this was over.
Over? This is never going to be over, Sebastian!
I put the lid of the toilet down and sat on it, sinking my face into my hands and trying to stop trembling. Nate didn't know how right he was. It was never going to be over, because there'd always be someone out there who wanted to use him, or get to him, and much as it burned me to admit, I was too obvious a choice to use against him.
The obvious choice--the easy choice, maybe? No! I swore, bitterly, under my breath. I was NOT easy game. Not for the Hellfire Club, not for anyone. I'd been stupid, that was all. Stupid and overconfident, and I'd paid the price. I'd gone in there thinking I was playing executioner, and I'd wound up playing Sebastian's game instead.
Stupid. I'd been SO stupid--
I reached out with shaking hands for the comb sitting on the edge of the sink, and started to pull it through my wet hair, tugging at the odd tangle and not even feeling it. Wet, my hair almost reached my shoulders. I'd let it grow, these last few months. Change. I'd wanted a change. But things never really changed, not really.
Never going to be over. It was never going to be over. Even if Apocalypse was dead, Nate was still going to be walking around out there like some sort of fucking a-bomb off the leash, and people were going to want to use him. And, lucky me, somehow I'd wound up the key to--something. His heart? Shit, that was cliched.
His control. He hated being used, every bit as much as I did, even if it seemed sometimes like he'd made his peace with that. Sometimes. Too often. One of the things I could have throttled him for, more often than not--
But he would LET it happen, for me. He'd walk right into it, just like he had this time, if it was my life at stake. Stupid, chivalric asshole--
If it kept happening, one of us was going to get killed. I rubbed at my eyes, and then touched the side of my face with a wince. I needed some ice, I thought distantly, rising. I needed to stop hurting, so I could think, decide what to do.
Because I had to do something. I couldn't let this happen again. For both our sakes.
***
Nathan wasn't sure why he was staring at the ceiling. It wasn't a particularly interesting ceiling. Off-white, featureless--a very ordinary hotel room ceiling. Nothing worth intensive study.
He was supposed to be meditating. He'd sat down, cross-legged, on the floor of the room, to do just that as soon as he'd heard Domino turn the shower on. Time--he knew she needed time, and space. He'd be here when she wanted to talk--if she wanted to talk. But he needed to meditate, too. He'd pushed himself too far today--he needed to get his balance back. Recharge.
Why he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, was something of a mystery to him. He didn't quite remember how he'd gotten there. The room had sort of--tilted, when he sat down. Maybe that was the problem. His leg was twisted in a strange position. It hurt. Maybe he should move it. Maybe he--
The thought faded away, almost dissolving. He could still taste blood at the back of his throat. The headache was still there, a steady, incessant pounding, but there was something really--odd, too, a charred, hollow feeling that he didn't know how to make go away.
He couldn't move. He should be more anxious about that. Lying here twitching wouldn't do much good if Shaw sent someone after them. And he might. Nathan knew he hadn't killed him. Hadn't had the energy to spare, after he'd finally broken through Shaw's shields--
Stupid--so stupid. I walked right into that--I could have gotten Dom killed-- But bringing help - and he couldn't even remember how he'd gotten here, no matter how hard he tried to focus on the time between the phone call and when he'd mindwiped the guards on duty outside the main doors of the Hellfire Club - would only have made it easier to Shaw to blame the whole thing on the X-Men.
No-win, Nathan thought hazily. Either way-- And Grant had died too quickly, far too easily. He should have suffered. They should have reenacted one of the more exotic Canaanite styles of corporal punishment. That would have been more fitting, after what he'd--what he'd--
Her eyes. Bright Lady, he could still see the look in his eyes when he'd burst into Grant's rooms. He closed his eyes, feeling a tear trickle down the side of his face, hating himself for the weakness, for lingering too long with Tessa. If he'd been faster, if he'd only been a few minutes faster--
This was his fault. All of it. Shaw had set up Dom to get to him. Just like Tyler had--
#You're being too hard on yourself.# The presence wove its way gently into his mind. Dark red and strangely warm, it soothed away that burned, broken feeling, dulling the headache to something almost bearable.
Nathan blinked up at the ceiling, listening to the soft footsteps crossing the carpet. "What are you doing here?" he rasped weakly as Madelyne knelt down beside him. She reached out and laid a cool hand on his forehead, and he flinched violently.
A strange, half-wistful, half-bitter smile flitted across her face. "You need me, Nathan."
He tried again to sit up. His body still wasn't doing what he told it to, flonq it. Madelyne sighed softly and slid an arm around his shoulders, pulling him up to a sitting position with surprising ease. His head kept trying to sag to his chest. It took what seemed like an enormous effort to hold it up straight, instead.
"Look at you," she murmured, green eyes searching his face keenly. "You could have killed yourself, Nate." He could feel her in his mind, still, could feel a faint pressure along the dividing line of his body, where techno-organic steel met flesh. "At least you've still got the virus under control. But you can't--mind-rake people like that without getting hit by the backlash. I'm surprised you made it back here before you collapsed."
"Backlash?" he managed.
"Yes, backlash. You weren't shielding yourself, were you?"
Shielding himself? Tessa hadn't struck back at him, and she was the only one who could have. And he'd been so angry--
"All attack and no defense. If you don't shield yourself when you attack someone like that, Nate, you get everything you do reflected right back at you. Especially when you do it to another telepath. I'm not sure why you didn't notice it--adrenalin, maybe." She shook her head. "Between that, and the teleporting, and mindwiping people like there was no tomorrow--" Madelyne made a soft, exasperated noise. "Idiot boy."
"Teleporting?" he asked stupidly. Was she not making any sense, or was it just him? He wasn't sure. Maybe both.
"Yes, teleporting. How do you think you got here from Westchester?" She frowned, reaching out and turning his face towards her. "You don't remember, do you? Nate, you CAN'T do things like this on instinct. You could burn yourself out. Another psi might survive that, but you can't, not with the virus to worry about."
"But--" he started to protest. "But Dom--"
The bathroom door opened. "Is right here," a hoarse voice said tautly. Nate looked up, blinking dazedly at the figure all in white, damp black hair curling around her expressionless face. "Should I be running for my gun?" Dom asked, looking right at Madelyne.
Madelyne snorted softly. "Don't be ridiculous, Domino." She rose, smoothly, and Nathan was left trying very hard not to fall back onto the floor again. "Do you really think I'd come here intending to harm him? I'm his mother, remember?"
"Given your record, that's not particularly reassuring."
Madelyne's smile was so cold that Nathan almost shivered. "I don't think you really want to get into this, Domino. I have plenty of things I could say about someone stupid enough to fall for a trick as pathetically obvious as the one Sebastian played on you." Domino's jaw clenched, and Madelyne continued unconcernedly. "I'm not entirely unsympathetic to what you went through today, but that sympathy is finite. Especially given that my son nearly burned himself out trying to save you. So I really, truly wouldn't push things. Dear."
"Madelyne!" Nathan grated furiously, but fell silent as Domino gave him a sharp, questioning look. "I'm fine, Dom," he muttered.
"That would be a great deal more convincing if you could stand up, Nathan," Madelyne said dryly.
He glared at her, but didn't try to get up. That would just prove her point, he suspected. "Maybe I like the floor," he snapped. "And if you snarl at her once more, I swear you'll get to see exactly how burned out I am--"
"Temper, temper."
"I can take care of myself, Nate," Domino said tonelessly, moving over to sit on the couch. "Why are you here, Madelyne?"
"Because neither of you are in any shape to protect yourself at the minute," Madelyne said. Almost amiably, this time, as if she'd gotten bored of trying to needle Dom.
"Do we need protection?"
"Oh, yes," Madelyne said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed in an almost lady-like posture. "And not just against Shaw."
"What?" Nathan growled shakily, feeling like they were talking right over his head. Well, they were, technically, he supposed. "Maddie, what are you talking about?"
Madelyne's smile was distinctly humorless. "There's a lot neither of you know about Grant, children. First and foremost, I would say, is the fact that he was--a very cherished pet of someone even I try to avoid pissing off."
"Flonq," Nathan muttered exhaustedly. The floor was looking better and better. "Selene?"
"Selene," Madelyne affirmed with a sigh. "Needless to say, you now have something of a problem."
to be continued...