X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ State of Mind ❯ New Moon ( Chapter 1 )

Notes: An exercise in a little surrealism. I like writing for crazy people, it's lots of fun. I'm taking a little from cannon and a little from a slightly different track. All I can ask of you is please, please stick with it. I'm experimenting a little.

 

Synopsis: Jean-Paul Beaubier was killed and resurrected by the HAND and Hydra. He was brainwashed. His mind is in pieces. Someone must be able to put him back together.

 

Warnings: Mental Issues, AU-ish Cannon hybrid. Foul language. Mental/Physical Torture.

 

Category: Slash overtones (obviously - Northstar's gay!), Mental problems, surrealism, romance/obsession. Hurt/Comfort.

 

Disclaimer: I won't insult your intelligence, you know the score.

 

State of Mind

By Doctor Megalomania

 

 

`You dumb fuck.'

Northstar couldn't believe he'd let himself be nailed through the heart by Logan! Even as his heart muscles contracted and expanded in a vain effort to keep beating, as he sank down the rough bark and got splinters in his scalp, Jean-Paul's last conscious thought was berating, a hot, angry spike as he yelled at himself in his mind.

`You dumb fuck!'

 

Chapter 1: New Moon

 

“Let me out! LET ME OUT!”

The fury rose like a living thing, poisoned and mad. His voice was horse, his throat was raw.

“LET ME OUT, GODDAMN YOU! YOU CAN'T KEEP ME LOCKED UP LIKE THIS!”

The cage was a box. Six feet, by six, by eight in height. It was the strongest metal containment that could be found and supplied at such short notice. It was suspended in the air by eight thick chains: four from the reinforced ceiling, and four from the floor.

“KILLERS! BASTARDS!! I'LL KILL YOU ALL FOR DOING THIS TO ME!”

It rocked with the force of his blows, which rained hard and fast. The cage was supplied with air by a ventilation unit attached to the ceiling and feeding down a tube to the top. Along the sides, along the top and bottom of the panels, there ran a long series of air holes. Not large enough to get anything more than a finger through.

“I can hear you.” The hoarse voice hissed, breathless laughter echoed from within. “Oh, yes, I can hear you. I know you're there.”

This cage was secure. Nothing could leave, nothing could enter. It was sealed at the top with an electro-magnetic pulse. It was designed for keeping uncertain elements at bay. As light flooded the containment bay, and the sound of boots sounded on metal gangways, the prisoner fell mercifully silent. He was listening.

There were many footsteps. Not just one person. They didn't speak. They paused below him. Out of his range of sight through the air holes.

“I'll kill you for this.” He promised them, “I'll fucking kill you all for this.”

They stood in silence for the longest time, and he could imagine the scene. Wolverine would be there, as would Professor X. The Beast. Annie. Perhaps the Angel and Havok, the ones would caught him would be there. Probably Cyclops - if he stopped contemplating his navel for long enough - and Emma Frost. Possibly Robert Drake, if only out of a mild, morbid curiosity. No students.

They would be standing there and staring with despair, with horrified expressions. With guilt. They had brought him to the cursed institution; they had tricked him into being an X-Man. They who had struck the fatal blow. Those who treated him like shit because he preferred to fuck men. Those who cast him out from the `X-Family' simply because he was not an original member.

Northstar gave up trying to see through the air holes, and turned his back against the cold metal wall. He slid down to sit, and stretch out his legs. Clenching his fists, he raged against the perpetual darkness that trapped him. “LET ME OUT, YOU FUCKING KILLER!”

He closed his eyes, and opened his mind to what was happening outside. His imagination filled in the blanks. Wolverine had killed him, Wolverine had caught him. The X-men had stepped forward to claim their `errant' member, and had incarcerated him in this cage in the hope of making him better. Now, he was trapped in a box with fucking idiots outside who thought they could cure him.

“You dumb fuck!” He spat at himself, “you should have been able to escape that.”

 

“I can't believe this is real.”

Annie started at the quiet voice, looking behind her at Bobby. Beside her, Alex looked grim as he stared at the box. Behind him, Professor Xavier looked on thoughtfully, beside him, Hank McCoy read over the medical notes. Devastatingly righteous in his pose, Warren folded his arms while beside him, almost hiding behind the angel's wings, Bobby Drake chewed on his lip indecisively. Bobby's hazel eyes flicked nervously between Logan's guilty expression, Scott's tight frown and Emma's cool observation.

There was a dull, angry Thunk! against the wall of the cage.

Annie sniffed, and turned to press her face into Alex's shoulder. She burst into almost silent sobs, her voice muffled. Alex's comforting whispers were indistinct as he led her away. Scott met his brother's eye and nodded, turning to follow him out. Emma gave the room a cool sweep with her ice blue eyes, before turning to follow Cyclops out. Angel huffed quietly, looking at Bobby as if he was going to say something but - at the look on Bobby's face - appeared to think better of it. Bobby watched as the beautiful wings flicked out and folded in an impatient gesture.

Bobby sucked in his lower lip and began to chew again. He looked over to Hank and the Professor. The two men had their heads bent together; their whispers and paper flicking were nothing but vague noises in the large metal room. Logan walked closer to the box, raising a hand almost hesitantly to touch but pulled away at the last moment. He turned to the Professor and Hank, his voice strangely subdued.

“Why would it work for me and not him?”

“We don't know…” Hank replied softly. Bobby found his attention drifting to the cage. He lost whatever Hank was going to say as he approached the cage gingerly. With the cage suspended in the air, there was a drop below it, with a ringed gangway all around. The bottom row of air holes was level with the floor of the gang way, about two feet of air between where he was standing and the walls of the cage.

Bobby sighed, staring forlornly at the side.

There was a sob from inside.

Bobby blinked with surprise and turned to see if the others had noticed, but they had already left. Their forms were blobs of colour beyond the frosted glass doors of the containment bay. Looking once more at the metal cage, Bobby stepped backward.

“Don't leave me alone.” Jean-Paul's voice trembled, “Please… please don't leave me alone in here.”

Bobby stood, undecided. He opened his mouth to speak when Hank's furry blue paw landed on his shoulder. The Beast held a finger to his lips, and shook his head.

Together, they turned and walked away.

The containment bay's lights clicked off.

 

 

The containment bay's lights clicked on.

New day begun at the flick of a switch.

He lost all concepts of sunset and sunrise. The lights came on for sixteen hours, and clicked off for the remaining eight. Very rarely did anyone actually enter the containment bay. He raged, he beat against the metal with all his speed and fury, but it yielded not results. He screamed, threatened, cried. The only time anyone entered was one lone set of footsteps that came at odd times.

He decided that it was Bobby.

Bobby would walk as close to the cage as the gangway would allow him. Bobby who's morbid curiosity couldn't keep him away. Bobby whose secondary mutation was killing him, and the only way to stop himself from dwelling on this fact was to come stare at the living dead man that was trapped in a box.

The visits were brief.

Bobby hummed occasionally, unconsciously as if he wasn't aware that he was humming Jean-Paul's favourite classical music. Debussy's “Clair De Lune”, its lilting tones always reminded the speedster of his first time flying. His first taste of true freedom.

He craved those moments, and always stayed as quiet and as still as he could manage when Bobby started to hum. However, as soon as Jean-Paul recognised the tune, Bobby would stop humming abruptly as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.

Jean-Paul imagined that Bobby probably felt guilty about that foolish death threat; possibly even that Bobby needed to know if there was anything left of his mind. Jean-Paul heard Bobby's footsteps turn away from the cage, and he felt compelled to speak.

“Is there anyone here? Please…. I'm scared… I'm lonely…”

Bobby didn't even know why he had come. At least that's what he told himself as he walked down the gangway, he stopped and stared at the cage. The cold metal was dull in the strip lights of the ceiling. Bobby knew that it was a lie.

“Please, please my friend, I can hear you…” Jean-Paul's voice was unusually calm under the sobbing whispers. “I can hear you breathing.”

He did know.

And he knew he was abusing his rights as a senior member of the X-Men. But he had to confirm it for himself, had to see it for himself… had to find out if Jean-Paul was still…

“Please. Please. Pretty please with whipped cream and a cherry on top… please don't leave me alone.”

Jean-Paul's voice was hoarse, his breathing halting and desperate. The heavy French-Canadian accent was straining. Bobby stepped closer, shifting into his ice form.

“Are you still there? I can hear something… music I think…”

Bobby realised with a jerk that he was humming again, and stopped. There was a quiet, sad laugh from the cage.

“Oh god, I think I'm loosing my mind… Jeanne-Marie, oh, my darling sister…” Jean-Paul moaned a sob caught in his breath, “Oh god, I never knew, never knew how it was… Please, somebody, save me. Please don't let me go.”

“Jean-Paul.” Bobby whispered sadly, “Oh, Jean-Paul, I'm sorry.”

There was scuffling in the cage and fingers wiggled desperately through the upper set of air holes. They were bloody. There were dark clumps of blood under the broken, jagged fingernails. Fresh blood covered the stains of the dried blood on the pale hands. “Bobby? Bobby, please! Why are you letting them do this to me? Can't you see that the treatments are doing nothing?!”

“Jean-Paul…”

“I've done nothing! God damn you all, I've done NOTHING to warrant this torture!”

“You killed seventy men, almost killed Logan when we finally caught up with you.” Bobby crouched down to swing his legs over the side of the gangway. He sat down, and stared at the wiggling fingers. “This is for your own good.”

“My own good…? You're leaving me alone like this for my own good?” Jean-Pail seemed caught on the beginning of a wail, “Why? Why?!”

“These thoughts aren't your own…” Bobby spoke faintly, his attention caught on the bloodied fingers. “Your head's just been screwed up by all that Hydra brain washing.”

There was a sob, and Bobby felt his heart wrench. He almost couldn't stand it.

“Bobby, please don't leave me alone. I'm begging you, my brother.”

“We can't let you out, you aren't responding right to the treatments. You'll be free when you get better.”

“Non, non …” Jean-Paul's voice dipped suddenly, fear making him pant pathetically. “Please, you don't understand, don't leave me alone… in here… with him.”

Bobby blinked.

Jean-Paul was alone in the cage… wasn't he?

“He's so angry Bobby, so free and angry… he's going to kill me if you leave, Bobby…”

“Wh-who are you talking about?” He frowned as silence descended on the cage again. He waited, for long moments, he waited and listened as the speedster's breathing evened out. When nothing more was forth coming, Bobby glanced up at the fingers. They were lax for a moment, before they carefully retreated in a graceful movement.

“Jean-Paul?” Bobby tried hesitantly, “Jean-Paul?”

“He's lying to you, Rober' …” Northstar's tone was icy, “I'm not going to hurt anyone, now let me out.”

“What?”

There was a loud Thunk! against the cage wall, near Bobby's head, making the Iceman jump back.

“Listen, you lazy fucking brat, you better let me out of here. You won't be able to reform fast enough when I'm done with you.” There was another thunk, followed by several rapid fire thunks. “Let me out, Rober', let me take care of business. There are many who need a lesson, I should be teaching right now. Rober' … let me out and I'll teach you what it means to be on the wrong side of the Northstar.”

“Jean-Paul?” Bobby frowned and stepped back from the cage, “I… I want to speak to Jean-Paul.”

“No. No. There is no Jean-Paul, no JP, no Jonny, no, no, nononono… There is only Northstar. I am the strongest. The fastest… and boy, but you'd better let me out. Let me out Rober', come out with me. Think of what we can do together.”

“Wh-what?” Bobby stepped back further, “I don't know what you are talking about…”

“Come on, Rober' … do you really think pussy is better than me? Look at what women have done to you; think of what I could do to you? Lorna almost killed you and you still love her… I will kill you, and won't that be a turn on?”

“That's enough for today. We'll try again tomorrow.”

Bobby jumped as a blue furry hand landed on his shoulder and gently guided him away. Hank shook his head at Bobby silently, and pushed the younger man toward the exit doors.

“No, Rober', stay! Stay! STAY GOD DAMN YOU! STAY HERE AND LET ME OUT!!”

The containment bay lights clicked off.

Day became night at the flick of a switch.