If Yesterday Was Tomorrow [ X-Men ]

Chapter Five

The darkness was everywhere. Like a jellyfish, it poked him softly yet violently. It crept on him without leaving him a chance to fight back. He was immobilized by the strange mass. The darkness was slowly swallowing him whole, yet he didn't feel panicked. Just tired, terribly tired.

He was empty. And alone. There was no one who could help him. No one could save him.

The darkness shaped itself into an ocean of hands. They grabbed, caressed, pinched and held him. He twisted and turned, but every time he thought an inch of skin was freed, a shadowy hand touched him.

"Stop," he gasped.

The darkness froze, as if it'd heard him. Suddenly, it reached upwards, melting into a slimy, sticky ink, and crawled up his neck. He struggled with all his might. He could feel two hands grab his neck. They became more defined, fingers encircling his throat like a snake. He gasped for breath, but the darkness simply squeezed harder. He was trapped.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't cry, couldn't...

He couldn't speak.

When he realized that his body was simply going to surrender to the obscurity, his mind finally emerged from his nightmare.

Victor woke up. His open eyes met up with the darkness of his room, light-weighted and weak compared to the one of his dream. He sat up without a sound. The air around him twisted into tiny tornadoes, reacting to the storm of emotions in his heart.

He let them fly around the room peacefully like little ghostly birds of transparent feathers. Victor watched them twist and swirl around for a while. They seemed totally independent from him. They were free.

Victor sighed, a knot in his throat.

***

The next morning, they met in the living room. Everyone had had the chance to eat a little something before they left, should it be toasts or a bit of fruits, which helped their moral.

All had dressed up for the event, which was kind of strange. They truly looked like a gang of super-heroes, or super-villains, depending on how you wanted to see their motivation.

Victor adjusted his dark purple suit to make sure that the long sleeves hid the pale scars on his forearms. He looked at the others, liking their change of costumes. Azazel had changed into a darker uniform that hung snugly on him. He looked dangerous yet elegant. Angel was wearing dark jeans and a sleeveless leather shirt that let her wings curl freely around her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bandage anymore. Victor guessed that her wound had healed. She'd tied her hair in a tight braid.

As for the had-been-X-Men, Erik had gone all-out. He'd obviously gone shopping the day before because his dark red cape and matching outfit fit perfectly. He looked stylish, even if his outfit was a bit intense. Victor felt severely underdressed, but it wasn't as bad as Raven: she had decided that simplicity was key. She was simply completely naked, freely showing her blue form to everyone. Obviously, it was easier for the young woman to use her powers that way, but Victor still tried not to look at her too much. His eyes were surely going to wander places they shouldn't. He instead concentrated on Erik.

"The CIA is holding Emma captive in one of their bases," the older mutant explained, "we will go, get her out, and come back. Questions?"

"Are you sure she'll join us?" Raven asked.

"You are underestimating her, Raven," answered Azazel with a slight harshness to his tone. He looked a little tense. Maybe he hasn't slept well, thought Victor. Maybe he'd been plagued by nightmares as well.