DISCLAIMER: I don't own
the X-Men or any of their multiple incarnations. Please don't sue me or
steal my story!
NOTE:
In Italian, Beatrice is pronounced Bee-a-TREECH-eh. Since the great
Dante wrote his Inferno in Italian, I would guess Belasco would say the
name with the Italian pronounciation.
NOTE II: The opening
speech (from "There..." to "What about Kurt Wagner?" ) is quoted
directly from Universe X Volume 2. The descriptions in between those
quotes and everything that follows is mine (except the characters
themselves, of course. Those are Marvel's).
Chapter Two
Ororo
Munroe sighed deeply, shaking her head as she effortlessly called up a
tiny rain cloud and sent it to float around the room, watering her
plants. She looked around the large, humid greenhouse, her blue eyes
falling on the young fig tree she and Kurt had planted so many years
ago, before he'd been lost to them in that cave, encased in stone by
the Gray Gargoyle. Or so they'd believed...
A slight,
bittersweet smile brushed her lips as she walked over to the fig tree,
lightly brushing the deep, green leaves with her fingertips. It had
been so small then, barely more than a seedling. Ororo hadn't been sure
it would even make it through the winter, but Kurt had had complete
confidence in her ability to coax the sickly little plant into vibrant,
glorious life. He had always—
Ororo shuddered slightly, her
breath catching in her throat and her eyes stinging as she spun away
from the tree, unable to face it or the memories it evoked any longer.
It
had been nearly a year since the truth of Belasco's identity had been
revealed, and the X-Men were still reeling from the shock. This
monster, this heartless demon was not and never had been the corrupted
Italian sorcerer who had tormented Dante and stolen his beloved
Beatrice, causing her a horrific death as he strove to create a race of
demons. He was Kurt Wagner, the dearest, kindest, most compassionate
man Ororo Munroe had ever had the honor of knowing.
The
realization that their demonic tormentor was none other than their
brainwashed friend and teammate had come as a stunning blow to all the
X- Men, but it had seemed to hit Ororo the hardest. The snowy-haired
elemental simply could not equate the cruel, angry creature she knew as
Belasco with the sweet, forgiving man she had believed dead for so
long. To see him now, transformed into the very demon he had been
reviled as all his life, was a sight too painful for her to bear. But
painful as it was, she could not deny the truth of what she had seen
and heard. This embittered, hate-filled copy of Belasco was indeed her
old friend. And she had waited for far too long to confront him over
what he had become.
Ororo raised her arms, causing her tiny rain
cloud to dissipate into little more than a wisp of warm steam. Then,
she spun on her heel, striding purposefully out of the greenhouse and
into the hallway.
She knew where to find him. Since discovering
the truth of his identity, Kurt had settled himself in the cruelest,
most violent section of the city, a place made all the more dangerous
now that the population was made up almost entirely by mutants. He had
become a fierce, protective, terrifying figure whose very name struck a
dread fear into the hearts of the most hardened of underworld criminals.
Ororo
had smiled to herself when she had first been told of Kurt's crime-
fighting activities. His drive to be a hero had always been at the core
of his nature, and even now, after all that had been done to him, he
was still ruled by the desire to protect those who could not defend
themselves. She could picture him in her mind; his long, red cape
swirling around his lean, powerful form as he crouched in the shadows
of the decrepit rooftops, his sword held securely in his russet hand as
his long tail mirrored the movements of his alert, sweeping eyes.
She
sighed deeply, squeezing her eyes closed with pain as she considered
what had become of one of her oldest and closest friends. Her mind's
eye pictured a tortured, lonely figure, a pure soul twisted and
tormented by anguished guilt and searing pain. He had been alone for
far too long. He needed to know he still had friends, friends who were
truly concerned for him even though they were terrified of his current
incarnation. The others had shown no sign of any desire to make contact
with him, and she knew Kurt would never come to them after all he had
done as Belasco. It was up to Ororo to make the first move—no more
excuses, no more procrastination, no more fear.
Grabbing her scarf from the foyer closet, Ororo quickly bound her hair
and turned towards the mansion's front door.
"Hey, 'Ro!"
A
voice from behind startled her from her determined thoughts. She spun a
little too quickly to face the man who had addressed her.
"Scott!" she gasped, a slender, mocha hand pressed over her heart. "I'm
sorry, you startled me. Did you want something?"
Cyclops
shook his head. "No, not really. I was just curious." He gestured to
the colorful scarf she had tied with elegant grace around her long,
white hair. "You looked like you were going out."
Ororo raised her head and peered at him with aloof, blue eyes. "So I
am."
Scott
knew that look all too well. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I
know, I know, it's none of my business," he smiled. "But, still, I
suppose there's no chance you might fill me in on where you're going?
Just in case anyone asks."
Ororo gazed at him, considering. "I'm going to visit a friend. That's
all."
Scott
shot her a shrewd look that was mostly obscured by his ruby-quartz
glasses. "If that really is all then what's with all the secrecy?"
Ororo
sighed, crossing her arms imperiously before her. "Before I tell you,
know this first. Nothing you nor anyone else may say will sway me from
what I have planned to do. The X-Men do not abandon their friends, no
matter how they may have hurt us in the past."
Cyclops held up a staying hand to interrupt her. "Let me guess," he
said. "You're going to see Kurt, aren't you."
Ororo just looked at him, her blue gaze steady. Scott nodded.
"Look,
'Ro, I understand your concern for him. I share it. But he's not the
Kurt Wagner we knew. Not anymore. He's confused, dangerous. If you
approach him now, I doubt he would even recognize you, let alone listen
to you."
Ororo sighed through her nose and turned her head, staring at the
umbrella stand by the door.
"Scott," she said simply, "Kurt needs our help."
Scott pursed his lips, knowing she couldn't see his narrowed eyes
through his ruby-quartz glasses. "Why do you say that?"
"Because
I know him, Scott!" Ororo said, snapping her head around to face him
once more. "For years, whenever any of us were hurting or confused or
angry at the unfairness of the world, Kurt was there to comfort us with
a few kind words and an honest compassion. Kurt! The one out of all of
us who had the most right to be bitter about his situation was the one
who gave thanks to his God each day for his good fortune! And do you
know what was chief on his list, Scott?"
Scott shook his head, knowing better than to speak.
"His friends. His friends, Scott. He counted us
first among his blessings, and he always went out of his way to make
sure he lived up to what he believed was our unconditional acceptance
of him. And we took him for granted, Scott. We took his love for
granted. That's why Mephisto was able to get to him like that. We're
the ones who opened the door for that demon to sneak his poison
through, we're the ones who gave that snake an entrance into Kurt's
heart. We're just as much responsible for his current situation as that
repugnant monster is!
"Kurt is hurting. He must be in agony over
what Belasco has done. And, he is not going to come to us for help.
Even though he was always willing to come to our aid, to help us
through our own petty problems, whenever something was bothering him
he'd keep it to himself, revealing his pain only to his God.
"It's
been a year, Scott. He needs to know that we still care about him. And
that's why I'm going to him now, whether he wants me there or not."
Scott ground his teeth as a wave of shame rolled over him. He could
barely meet Ororo's shining, tear-filled eyes.
"You're
right," he managed to croak out through a suddenly tight throat.
"You're right, Ororo. You should go to him. And I'm going with you."
Ororo's
tightened lips relaxed into a soft smile. "No, Scott," she said. "Your
offer is appreciated, but somehow I feel this is something I must do
alone."
Scott was about to protest, to alert her to the dangers
of the part of town where Kurt had taken up residence, to warn her of
the danger that Kurt himself might pose to her, but he stopped himself.
Ororo was a brave, capable leader who could more than handle herself in
a fight, even against Belasco. Besides, she was right. Kurt might reach
out to her if she approached him alone, but if he realized she had
company he might withdraw into himself, or even get violent. Slowly, he
nodded, his shoulders sagging slightly.
"All right, Ororo," he said, before he turned to leave. "Just tell me
how it went when you get back, OK?"
Ororo's smile widened, but it did not light her anguished eyes. "Of
course, Scott," she said. "I should be back before dawn."