And the thunder rolls.

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

While the search continues for him back home, Forge meets Lorna in the mostly likely of places, the kitchen. He's rightly wary of her even though she tries to explain that nothing is really what it seems. In the end, it's Magneto who makes it all clear.



It was muggy and hot, thunderstorms belying the region's reputation for beautiful weather. Usually the lightning would make her twitchy, like the solar flares that were raging but the collar kept the feeling from her. Living without EM fields was like living naked but it was preferable to the alternative. Still, it made for depressing viewing, palm trees half bent with the wind.

Lorna sighed and turned away from the rain-lashed window, back to the breezy open kitchen that would have been any chef's dream. Magneto took his meals very seriously and in her more bitterly humorous moods, Lorna half-wondered if her culinary training had been a major contributor to his choosing her over anyone else in the mansion to join him. Certainly he was appreciative of her carefully built cheese soufflé. Rolling back her sleeves, she picked up a knife and started to slice an onion.

Forge couldn't resist the nagging urge to look over his shoulder continually. This place was a prison, definitely, but not like any kind he'd ever thought of. Freedom to walk about as he pleased, so long as he did not try anything "heroic, stupid, or both", he'd been
told.

And the lab - oh, the lab. An engineering complex easily more well-stocked and advanced than the mansion's. Arrays of equipment that Forge could only stare at in awe before immediately finding dozens of uses for.

Including the one Magneto wanted. Could he do it? Yes, but it would take time. Would he? Well, that seemed to be the thousand-dollar question. A matter of loyalty, integrity, respect, of doing the right thing.

Thinking bitterly on his track record for doing the right thing, Forge rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Forge." The knife wavered in Lorna's hand before she set it down, looking around automatically for anyone else. She hadn't been alone with Forge since she…since Malice brought him here. "Come in. I can't hurt you right now." The collar was clearly visible now, with her hair tied back. She touched it lightly. "How are you?"

Flinching slightly, Forge took a step into the kitchen. "Lorna used to use her powers for the kitchen stuff all the time," he said cautiously. "What, Dad doesn't think it's a proper use of your genetic bounty? I'm just going to get an apple and head back downstairs."

As if to punctuate his statement, thunder crashed outside and rain spattered the window like a machine gun, making him jump backwards. "They're going to come looking, you know. It's what they do."

"I hope to God they will. I don't want to know what they're doing." Lorna wiped her hands on her apron then reached forward and grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl. She examined it for a moment and then tossed it to him. "And I am Lorna. Malice is…something else. I don't even know how to explain her. The collar has her in it. I think she used to be a person but she's not anymore." She sighed and shook her head, "I'm sorry, I'm not technical enough to explain it really and anything I tell you she'll know so…you can look at it if you like. It's probably a really interesting piece of tech. Just…don't talk to me about what you're doing okay? Whatever you decide to do to get yourself out of here, don't tell me about it."

Raising an eyebrow, Forge paused as he caught the apple. "You're Lorna. Right. The woman who rode my ass for reading too much of the Lensherr Manifesto just joined up with the devil himself. Pardon me if I don't believe you."

Cocking his head, he couldn't help but take a curious look at the metal choker around Lorna's neck. "You're saying that you're really Lorna, but the evil ghost in the necklace makes you into this Malice person, but it's not turned on right now?" He shrugged, gesturing to the window. "Prove it. Blow out the wall, get us the hell out of here. What're you waiting for?"

"I can't prove it, you moron! Look at this; it's an inhibitor on top of everything else! It doesn't seem to even have an off button." Lorna shook her head, exasperated. "You think I haven't tried to stop this before now? If I try anything, he'll kill my parents. He'll kill Alex. Christ, you've read the man's manifesto, you know how persuasive he is and how dedicated."

She paused, looking pensive, "Actually, you know what? Forget it. Forget I said any of that. It doesn't help you any to know that I'm not really Malice." Lorna slumped against the counter. "Take your apple. Dinner is in a couple of hours, don't work through it. You don't eat right."

Forge turned around to leave, then stopped, speaking over his shoulder. "You're right," he said. "It doesn't help me. Because like you just said, I can't trust you. This could be you, it could be the collar. Hell, you could be Mystique standing there doing this just to fuck with me. All I know is that if I were to try something and screw it up? I know how dedicated he is to the cause. You and I? We're tissue paper in a hurricane, me especially."

Turning to look at Lorna, he shrugged. "If they come for us, they come for us. If they don't, they don't. I can't waste time thinking about it. Going to probably be too busy staying alive." With a small nod, he headed out of the kitchen. "I won't miss dinner, don't worry."

"Good." She blinked back tears as it sank in that even now, perhaps especially now with someone who used to be a friend, she was more alone than ever. "Forge?" she said, just as he was about to leave entirely, "When you talk to him? Remember that he's crazy. You might be a genius but you're not smart enough to outthink him. Okay?"

With narrowed eyes, Forge turned around to leave. "The last person who told me I wasn't smart enough also told me I was going to be in a wheelchair for my whole life. I can create things that no other human on this earth can even envision. I'm so brilliant that when I wake up in the morning, God flinches wondering what I'm going to come up with next. Outthink Magneto?" Forge took a bite out of the apple, chewing thoughtfully.

"I'm not completely convinced he's wrong."

"I know you're not. You're still an idiot for that by the way and I should have dragged you kicking and screaming into philosophy to make you see that." Lorna shook her head, face grim, "But he's wrong and he'll get you killed if you let him. And that damned arrogance of yours will take you there. That's how we nearly lost John. You might be smart with machines but you suck with people and you know it."

"And what have people given me, Lorna?" Forge shouted back, the apple forgotten, falling to the floor. "Recognition beyond a patronizing pat on the back? Saving a life, fixing the broken, practically raising the dead, and what do I get?" He paused, looking down to where the apple lay burst and spread across the tiled floor. "A bunch of empty words and a broken heart, that's what. Yeah, it might not be doing the right thing, but you know what I've learned? Doing the right thing hurts. Maybe I'm tired of it."

Lorna's eyes widened, "What happened? Back at the mansion, what's been going on?" She crossed to where he was standing, ignoring the apple on the floor, resting her hand on his shoulder. It might be just teenage melodrama but…it was the mansion. It could be all too likely entirely accurate.

"Forge," Magneto said from the doorway, his tone cool and even, "when I told you what I am asking you to create, I don't believe 'a ruckus' appeared anywhere on the list. Is there something you require?"

Glaring at Lorna, Forge turned slowly back to the fruit bowl, picking another apple and tossing it from hand to hand. "No, sir," he answered. "Just some brain fuel before I head back down to the design table."

"Very good. I look forward to your conclusions." He favored Lorna with an indecipherable look. "These reminders of your former life seem to be troubling you, my dear. Allow me to help." A barely audible click issued from the collar around her neck.

Lorna had time for a barely audible protest then swayed, looking disoriented. She shook her head as if to clear it then focused on Forge again, hand on one hip, lips twisting into a smirk. "You really shouldn't let your emotions get the best of you like that, John Henry. Learn when people are just having a bit of fun with you." She looked at Magneto, "Am I still allowed my sparring session today?"

"Of course. I believe I heard Sabretooth say he was quite looking forward to the opportunity." Magneto's expression shifted to one of mild reproof. "Do try not to . . . excite him too unduly; his leash is so tiresome to shorten."

The personality shift shocked Forge. It was Lorna's voice, but the words, the mannerisms - this was someone else. "Fascinating..." he murmured, cocking his head to look at the collar. "Now that is something that intrigues me. But, for the moment, I have work to do."

Walking down the hallway, he repressed the urge to shiver at the cold chills running down his back.