If Yesterday Was Tomorrow [ X-Men ]

Chapter Nine

Victor woke up pretty slowly. His mind was hazy, full of sleep. He blinked. It was hard getting used to the light. He slowly raised his head. Pain exploded in his mind. Victor grimaced. He remembered now. Banshee, falling, pain, then Beast. Fucking hell. Beast hadn't missed his shot.

He took a deep breath. Where was he? The floor was very cold. The room was extremely unfamiliar. It was metallic, sometimes of a blue shade, some other parts of the wall a classic shiny grey. Victor frowned at the noise echoing in the room when he tried to move.

It clinked eerily, the familiar sound sending a shiver down his spine. The young man looked down only to see that his fear had come true: dark shackles bit into his wrists. He wriggled his fingers, noticing that he was bound to the wall behind him.

Great, he thought. Victor didn't move. He felt like moving around would be both painful and pointless. He carefully looked around him. There were no windows, which meant that he was probably underground. The X-Men were smart. They knew that he could've easily escaped by creating a tornado strong enough. However, if he was tied up, and in the basement, the room would collapse over him before he could possibly escape.

The young man sighed. He carefully leaned back his head on the wall. Why was he in this situation? Yes, he'd been beaten by Beast and Banshee, but what happened to the others? Victor had trouble seeing how Xavier could've beaten everyone by himself, especially since Magneto had Shaw's helmet. Magneto should've been able to fight him long enough for Angel to find the files.

Had they left him behind? Magneto should've been able to rescue him before it was too late. Someone should've rescued him before it was too late...

But there he was, bounded and wounded. He was pretty sure that he had a minor commotion, at least, and by the color of his shoulder poking through his destroyed suit, most of his upper right arm and upper chest had been slashed through by debris. He also probably had a black eye, if not more bruises on his face. Victor decided not to move. It simply wouldn't do anything except create unnecessary pain.

Now, he had to find a way to turn the situation to his advantage. The X-Men obviously thought that he knew something if they hadn't killed him first. Either that or they were as stupid as he had thought and they simply refused to kill anyone, even if they clearly were an enemy. For now, Victor could do nothing but wait. He had to find out what the X-Men wanted from him.

He stayed put for a while. It was hard measuring time when nothing changed around you. He tried not to think too much, but his thoughts always drifted to the Brotherhood of Mutants.

He gulped down loudly and tried not to think about the possibly that they had voluntarily left him behind. It was impossible. Something must've happened. Or maybe Victor was simply hidden somewhere Magneto and Angel did not know of, and it took time to find him. Maybe they went to get Azazel and Mystique. Yeah, that must've been it. They would come soon enough.

And if they didn't come, Victor would have no other choice than use his powers and try to escape, whatever the risks were. There was no way he was falling into the X-Men's hands for long. He was part of the Hellfire Club. And he'd prefer to bring the building down on all of them than remain a prisoner.

Thoughts like these passed through Victor's mind for a while, occupying the long, boring moments of silence. It was so long! His head hurt. His eyes were starting to close by themselves. He could feel himself drift off to a peaceful sleep. He tried to fight it, but wondered why.

At the very moment when he was about to close his eyes for good, Victor heard the door slide open with the swift sound of high-technology buildings. It chased away his fatigue in an instant. He slowly lifted his head, trying not to trigger too much pain.