fic: Go Ask Alice 7/?
Title: Go Ask Alice
Author: punahukka / Jester
Fandom: X-Men (First Class): Girl, Interrupted/Sucker Punch AU (featuring an ensemble of other Marvel characters)
Disclaimer: Playing with Marvel’s toys in Susanna Kaysen’s, James Mangold’s and Zack Snyder’s sandboxes. Any other pieces of work you may recognize don't most likely belong to me either.
Rating: Nc-17
Pairing: Charles/Erik (+ Charles/Tony Stark, Charles/Loki, Charles/Moira, Loki/Mystique, Logan/Jean, others)
Warnings: mental illnesses, mentions of child-abuse and suicide (attempted and committed), language, sex, violence, alcohol and drug abuse, some cross-dressing, era-specific homophobia and racism, screwed timelines
Summary: Have you ever confused reality with a dream or a good story? Or a bad one? Have you ever stood on a bridge and not jumped because you cannot trust the laws of the physics and you’re afraid of the ever after? Have you ever been kissed? Have you ever been kissed like a frog and not turned into anything at all? Have you ever met anyone you know from another life or timeline than this?
A mental institution AU for this prompt @ xmen_firstkink.
Chapter 7
“What happened to you? What made you so fucked up?”
“‘There is no hunting like the hunting of a man. And those who've hunted armed men long enough, and like it, never really care for anything else thereafter.’”
“That's pretty poetic. Did you come up with that all by yourself?”
“No, actually. That was Hemingway.”
Predators
Where Spanish might be needed turns out to be Argentina, and Buenos Aires turns out to be hot, crowded and buzzing like a beehive.
After getting a quick something to eat near the airport and escorting Emma, Jean and Hank into a hotel they take turns to occupy the lobby’s restrooms and get changed to continue their journey. (“What’s the code for this?” Raven wonders in her camouflage pants and black tank-top, tugging her blond-for-now hair under a black cap. “Military casual?”)
If the flight has been dull, the drive ahead in two jeeps threatens to be even duller. Their drivers are locals and determined to mind their own business, and after a quick peek into their minds Charles concludes they’re paid well enough not to ask questions, and they know the tricky little roads through the jungle by heart.
“This is not a fucking school trip,” Erik growls when the argument of who’s going to sit and where takes a turn to heated. “Those who don’t feel like keeping their mouths shut go into the first car and hopefully die first as well if there’s an ambush; Wolverine, the Professor and the Hulk come with me.”
Raven flips him the bird, Alex rolls his eyes, Sean does look a little frightened and Loki actually sticks out his tongue; nevertheless, all of them obey.
Charles is too tired to care when Logan decides that the telepath has a bigger ass than Bruce and therefore Bruce takes the middle seat; Logan himself claims the front seat and Erik somehow manages to fold his long legs so that his knees won’t constantly dig into Logan’s back.
While making sure that they have everything they need with them, Charles has to admit that with three telepaths it’s sinfully easy to smuggle a shitload of weapons (and a Hank) through airport security; and even if it wasn’t, they’re all weapons themselves.
Raven has been like a little sister to him ever since Emma found them and one of the CIA’s less public divisions teamed them up: mind-reader, meet the shape-shifter. It was something very harmless and almost innocent back then, a little spying and such. It has been years now, and the harder and dirtier their duties have gotten, the more they have grown into each other; at some point they even lived together. That was, of course, before Charles pulled a certain out-for-blood metal-bender up from the waters of Miami and decided that if Erik was going suicidal on his missions, there had to be a better reason than being too proud to ask for help. They still haven’t caught Shaw, the one Erik’s after, but he has managed to stay with them.
Soon after Erik they met Alex and Sean. Later Charles has spent many sleepless nights pondering whether or not they should have recruited kids into their unofficial division of paranormal activities in the first place, and every time he has allowed himself a peace of mind by thinking that the guys are better off with them than on their own with nowhere to go.
CIA recruited Bruce most unofficially after a Hulk incident in northern Canada; somewhere along the road, after being convinced that no, he didn’t have any unfinished business with the green giant that couldn’t be dealt with peacefully, Logan tagged along. And when Loki fell from the skies with his magic and his issues and his determination to wreak havoc on something Charles knew there was a chance the unfortunate game of insane jealousy he and Raven had been playing because of Erik was coming to an end.
When the driver starts the engine and the jeep jerks into motion Charles finally realizes that despite everything their association of extraordinary beings has been through they’ve never worked together as a team this big.
*
The drive takes hours, hours and hours. They make the few stops as quick as possible. They take turns in trying to get some sleep, and at some point Charles wakes up having drooled a wet patch on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce’s back is cramping, and Charles is trying to project every bit of I feel you at him, especially when Erik and Logan’s stoic appearance doesn’t crack even once. What he gets out of the jungle enclosing them is that it’s enormous, green and hot, and it’s what he’s always found most annoying in his job: seeing the world and not being able to enjoy it.
*
Finally, finally the jeeps slows down and they can see someone waving at the end of the road. The sun is beginning to set slowly but surely.
“We’re here,” the driver grunts and kills the engine.
Charles takes a sweep around with his mind and counts twenty-something people residing in the camp; apparently they have to leave their baggage to be seen through before bringing it in. The camp itself consists of three big tents for operating and several small tents for sleeping and stashing things and, surprisingly enough, an old van beaten by weather and a ridiculously big aerial on its roof.
Their one-man mutant welcome committee introduces himself as Sergeant Worthington (Charles takes just a little peek in his head, and oh, he really hopes he gets to see the huge angel wings the man has trapped under his clothes) and asks them to follow him.
“Cut it,” Erik grunts when Loki offers to give Raven a piggy-back ride if her feet are too numb to walk and Raven is more than happy to oblige. Both pull faces behind Erik’s back, and Charles wonders if the insane jealousy game is really over.
They’re led into one of the big tents which, on the inside, is more of a rather neat office.
“Good, you’re here,” a red-haired beautiful woman with a faint Russian accent clad in skin-tight black fake-leather costume sighs emerging from behind a pile of wooden boxes marked with “this side up”, as if there would have been a fairly good chance they didn’t make it. “I’m the Black Widow.”
“I bet you are,” Logan mutters and Charles trusts Erik and Bruce to stomp on his feet for that (Raven’s subtle cough sounds very much like a “redhead fetish”).
Charles shakes hands with their contact agent and does the introduction for the rest of them as well. She doesn’t seem too impressed by the looks of them, ignores additional comments completely and nods curtly, gesturing them to follow her. “Let’s get you something to eat first.”
“You’re horrible, horrible people and shouldn’t be let within a five-feet radius of a woman,” Raven hisses as they follow Widow’s lead and absolutely everyone checks out her ass. Bruce and Sean still have the decency to look embarrassed, the rest of them settle for shrugging.
*
After a simple meal and a tour around the camp they’re more than ready to leave the briefing for the morning and go to sleep. Charles reassures the rest of them that there’s no need for their own team to keep watch, the local team is too relieved to have them to let them be murdered in their sleep, and there are no other people within miles. There are four tiny tents reserved for their use on the outline of the rough square the camp is forming; the air is hot and damp even if it’s getting colder in a couple of hours, and they’re glad they don’t have to fit more than two people in the same space.
“If you’re going to fuck I will kill you!” Alex moans at Loki and Raven (now in her natural blue skin) who, just to piss the rest of them off obviously, engage in a theatrical kiss with a lot of tongue and bodies snaking around each other before grinning like lunatics and disappearing into their residence. Alex himself shares with Sean, and as Erik nudges Charles to move Logan and Bruce are left to get along.
“You fart and I will kill you,” Bruce mutters and follows Logan’s ominous laughter into the tent.
Charles wriggles himself in with a flashlight and kicks off his combat boots before taking in the details: thin sleeping pads and even a couple of blankets that count for luxury since they have their coats. Erik has a little more trouble settling down somewhat comfortably with his height, but he manages.
For a moment they lay quiet, listening to the mumbling and rustling from the others until it slowly fades out.
“It’s been a while,” Erik states, catching Charles’ eyes with his own, and Charles finds himself swallowing.
“Not by my decision.” It’s you who’s been away.
“I’ve had no choice either.” And you know it.
Charles sighs and turns off the flashlight. He knows, he knows all too well, that secret assignments (especially the ones concerning the disappearance of Steve “Captain America” Rogers) are secret and he has no right to ask, let alone know, and he’s not stupid enough to find out his own way. But it doesn’t change the fact the metal-bender hasn’t been around for ages, and that he’s spent the last year and a half feeling there’s something unfinished between them after their last job together. They didn’t get to talk before leaving for this mission, and this is not a good time or place to dig into anyone’s feelings.
And still he hears himself saying “I missed you”, very quietly, and more feels than sees Erik smile.
“You know I missed you,” Erik whispers, and it’s not that much space they have between them to begin with, and it’s somewhat easy to end up in an embrace with full body contact. It takes only a couple of inhales of his scent before Charles finds Erik’s lips with his own and kisses him, gently but firmly. It’s the same as always, making his toes curl and leaving him feeling light in the head, and he has to pull away sooner than later in order to maintain some control of the situation. “See you in the morning,” he murmurs, rolling on his back, and Erik lets out a chuckle at his very determined sleeping pose.
*
They have breakfast at six in the morning and gather into the office-like tent right after, standing around one big table covered in maps, photos and files.
“It’s a military compound,” the Widow begins, tapping one of the largest photos in front of her with a finger. (Charles picks up a very loud How does her hair stay like that in a freakin’ jungle? from Raven.) “From the mid-forties, a good ol’ Nazi hideout, none of our troops have been able to get too deep inside but apparently they have a surprisingly well-supplied laboratory down there. For experimenting on people with special powers, that much we’re aware of. We suppose the main building extends to the caves in the mountainside.” She gestures towards another photo.
“Hold on a sec,” Raven interrupts with a frown. “Am I the only one who’s missed who they are exactly?”
“We don’t know, exactly,” the Widow answers without a blink. “We know Hydra is involved, and we know Shaw’s new little Hellfire Club brings in the money, but what we’re up against here… we don’t know. And we don’t have that much ground troops to sacrifice in scouting when it has become obvious that they’re very much heavily armed and defended. You’re here because with your powers you have a chance to take over the place without the questions a full-blown military raid would raise.”
“Same old song, let’s send in the mutants to take the collateral damage,” Logan grunts and looks already bored. “Can we skip the morals of the story and get to the point?”
“The point?” the Widow arches an eyebrow and grants Logan a hint of a smile. “Get in, get three prisoners with you, get out.”
“Who are the three? Friends or foes?” Loki cuts in.
“You people just can’t shut up, can you?”
“We’re working on it,” Charles promises and gives a faint mental kick to the rest of them.
“Friends,” the agent continues, shaking her head. “Two mutant girls, and unfortunately one of us SHIELD people. My partner, to be exact, so you’d better get at least him out of there alive. So, here’s what you’re gonna do.”
*
In theory the plan sounds simple enough. Alex and Sean with their natural abilities and a variety of explosives cause chaos as a distraction so that Raven and Loki can sneak in to disable as many alarm and weapon systems as possible (the two shape-shifters take pride in their undisputed talent of being able to break almost anything). Once they’re inside the building Erik and Logan follow them and, being somewhat bulletproof, buy them as much time as they need drawing the fight to themselves. Charles serves as their communication system and Bruce sticks with him in hopes of not hulking out unless it’s absolutely necessary, coming in to raid the labs once Erik and Logan have cleared the way.
They’ve just started packing their weapons and making bad jokes about plan B’s when Charles senses it, a few seconds before the first shout from the outline of the camp.
“We’ve got company!”
It’s a miracle how fast the chatter dies and they transform into professional secret agents and soldiers: within two heartbeats the guns fly to their owners with a quick sweep of Erik’s hand, Logan’s claws come out and the man takes a leap towards the door to take the first hit if there’s one coming with Alex on his heels, little green flames start dancing on Loki’s palms and the rest crouch into their positions to wait for a trigger to launch them into action.
Except Charles, who rushes out of the tent after the Black Widow with as loud a “Hold your fire!” as he can manage while forcing the same message into the armed men’s heads. “Hold! It’s our targets! The prisoners!”
He and the Widow are the third and the fourth ones to reach the incomers, and the red-haired agent gestures to the two soldiers who’ve got there first to lower their weapons.
There are two girls and a man, looking quite beaten by the jungle and possibly by something else, but even as they’re sitting in the ground, almost hidden by the thick undergrowth, panting and sweating, all of them look pleased more than anything else. Charles cheats a bit to skip over the remaining uncertainty and picks up their names: the mutants are Kitty and Marie, and the man grinning up at the Widow goes by Clint Barton, codename Hawkeye.
“It took you so long to come to the rescue we lost hope and decided to save ourselves,” Hawkeye explains with a shrug and gives Charles a once-over. “Should’ve waited a bit longer, I hate to think you’ve dragged Professor X here for nothing.”
Charles smiles and senses the rest of his team approaching from behind him, but when he turns around to assure everything’s fine, everything suddenly isn’t, and he gets a sickening feeling of being ripped out and apart.
****
It’s like a giant dollhouse.
“Look at me. Can you hold it together?”
“Yes. Yes, I can.”
“One more act to go.”
“Resistance?”
“Not yet. Suspicion, maybe.”
“Hold it.”
It’s like a giant dollhouse that’s put away after playtime, faded into the background to wait for the next round.
****
“Charles, are you alright? You look a little pale.”
He forces his eyes to focus on Grey’s face, they’re in the small room again and he feels cold.
Grey frowns, worried, and gets up from her seat (when did she take one?). “I’m going to get you a glass of juice, I think your blood sugar is low again.”