Scott and "Kurt", Thursday

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott slips farther and farther away from reality as his captors go to extreme lengths to get him to reveal the information from Alkali Lake.


Coming back to consciousness was a strange, disjointed experience - moreso than before - and for a moment, Scott wasn't at all sure why. He felt... strange, his limbs all tangled up, muscles screaming with strain. What... where did they put me...

The walls were too close. Far too close. Squeezing in on him, from inches away, and Scott raised his bound hands, trying feebly to find some handhold to pull himself up to his feet, out of the strange half-doubled-over crouch he'd woken up in. There. Something like piping, along the wall...

His head hit something hard, just above him, and for a moment he saw stars. It was a while before the daze faded, and Scott winced at the pain in his shoulders as he lifted his hands again, trying to feel out what he'd hit. Metal, but not solid... a grate.

Where was he?

There were beads, rattling above him as they were passed from hand to hand. But then that stopped, abruptly, and a familiar voice spoke out of the darkness. "Scott? I know you are awake."

"K-Kurt?" His voice sounded too high. Afraid. His head was still spinning, but he was starting to think about what this might be, where he might be, and his heart was beating abruptly faster. Were they going to leave him down here?

"I am here," came the quiet answer. "I wish that I could let you out, but they will not allow it. But I can pray with you."

"Kurt..." Pray? Scott tried to push at the grate, his hands shaking badly. "No... no, that won't help," he said disjointedly. He'd thought Charles and the team would find him, help him. They hadn't. He was supposed to believe in divine deliverance now? "Please... please let me out?"

"I cannot," Kurt said helplessly. "We tried to come for you, but they were too many. It is locked, and I do not have the key. They did allow me to keep my rosary..."

No. Oh, no. They had Kurt? And the others... Jean? "No," Scott breathed, his voice breaking. "No, they... no," he almost whimpered, tears burning in his eye, beneath the restraint. He hadn't thought of that. He'd never dreamed... his fault, oh God, it was his fault...

There was a gurgling sound, somewhere in the too-close wall on his left. It got louder, and Scott flinched suddenly as he felt cold water on his bare feet.

The beads started to rattle again, as Kurt ran them through his fingers. "It is not your fault. We all made our choice to come for you. What is happening down there?"

"Water. It's..." Cold. Shivering, a choked noise of pain escaping him as the muscles in his legs started to seize up in cramps, Scott reached back up to the grate, trying to dislodge it. But it wouldn't budge, and there was no strength in his arms. "I c-can't... I can't get out."

"They do not want to kill you," Kurt told him hastily. "You have not yet given them their answers, and so they need you alive. They will not allow you to drown... and that grate is secure. Try to stay calm."

"N-No, it's..." Rising. The water was rising. Fear lent him a little strength, and he pushed desperately at the grate. Cold! The water was cold, and his muscles were spasming every time he tried to move, refusing commands from his brain. "Please... Kurt, try to... please..."

"I have no key!" Kurt protested miserably. "I could try to lever it up, but I think it will do no good."

Scared. Kurt sounded scared, and Scott writhed inside with guilt even as his breath started to come in gasps. The water was up to his waist now, bubbling furiously with the force of its entry. Like it was boiling, but it couldn't be, it was ice-cold... "K-Kurt... I'm sorry... so s-sorry," he gasped out.

"You need not apologise to me, Scott," Kurt said softly. "Not ever. You and the others showed me a better way of life, and I would not have turned most of it down. As I said... we all made our choice."

He'd done this. He'd walked into this, relying on them to save him, and now they were in it with him. How could he have been so stupid? So selfish? As the water level climbed, Scott's death-grip on the grate eased slowly, his overstressed mind teetering on the brink of shutting down.

But his thoughts were suddenly, shockingly clear. This had happened before. He had almost drowned in that bunker on Youra, come so close. And here it was, happening again, and there was nothing to save him this time.

He was going to die. He was...

Everything went black. He let it go.

---

"--hear me? Scott?" A kind, concerned voice, and a gentle hand on his jaw, turning his head to the side. Scott gasped raggedly, pushed against restraining hands. "No, no, it's okay," the voice went on soothingly. "You're all right. Just relax."

He was lying flat. On something... soft? Not quite a bed. But not the floor. He struggled a little more, instinctively, and felt something tangling his legs. A blanket. Where was he?

He still couldn't see.

"Really, it's all right!" A hand squeezed his shoulder gently. "I'm so sorry, Scott. Something went wrong. We're going to help you, I promise."

A three-fingered hand patted his other shoulder, carefully. "It is true, Scott. You are safe now, and we will bring you to the best medical attention."

He tried to say something, to ask Kurt what had happened, but his teeth were chattering. He was shaking violently, couldn't stop. "C-Cold..." he whimpered.

"I know," the other voice said soothingly, stroking wet hair back from his forehead. "Just relax and breathe. We came very close to losing you, Scott. What an awful accident.... the person responsible's going to be disciplined, I promise you."

"The Danger Room," Kurt explained apologetically. "Just a simple training accident - the grate should have been open. But help reached you in time."

The Danger Room. But... "N-No..." Scott forced out, confused and uncertain. "No, they wanted..." His breath caught raggedly in his chest with pain as the muscles in one leg started to cramp.

"What, Scott?" the other voice murmured. "What happened?" The hand was still stroking his hair gently. "You hit your head, so you may be confused. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

Fingers brushed lightly against a sore spot on his skull, and Scott winced.

"Just tell me what it is. It's all right, Scott."

"It is safe to tell us anything," Kurt backed up the first voice. "Here and now, it is. And there will be more blankets, and a hot meal when you are up to it, and all will be well."

"Ad-Adamantium," Scott choked out. "The d-doctor. Stryker..."

"Nothing like dreaming of Alkali Lake when you hit your head," soothed the gentle voice. Almost paternal, now. "It's all right. If you need to talk about it, I'll listen. That's what I'm here for, Scott."

... something was wrong here. Scott focused on breathing, trying to think. Something was definitely wrong.

He still couldn't see.

He raised a shaking hand to his face - only to have it intercepted, held in a firm grip. Too firm. "It's all right, Scott," the gentle voice said. "I just need you to concentrate for me. To tell me what you remember. We need to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"No..." Scott muttered. He tried to raise the other hand, but his arm was pushed back down flat, held there, and he started to struggle in earnest again. "Let... let go," he gasped.

"Scott, you're panicking." The voice wasn't gentle anymore, but firm. "This isn't going to help."

"Let me GO!" His voice broke on the half-shout, and then something was being forced over his face, over his mouth and nose.

"Try to stay calm, Scott," Kurt urged him gently. "It is only an oxygen mask, you are still injured. Lie still, and tell us what you remember."

The mask was removed after a few long moments, and Scott slumped, not fighting the restraining hands any longer. "Let... them go," he slurred. The haze inside his head was getting thicker, denser. Like gathering fog.

"Let who go, Scott?" the other voice asked, gentle again. Curious.

"I'll... t-tell you. But... let them go..." They didn't know anything. Like Alex. He had to protect them.

There was silence for a long few moments, then, "We are to be allowed to go, Scott. They do not want us, only what you know. But you must tell them what you know first."

"Just tell me," the other voice urged, still sounding faintly curious. "It's bothering you, Scott, I can tell. You want to tell me..."

No. That wasn't a promise. That wasn't. He wasn't going to tell anyone anything, not until he was the only one here. "No," he muttered. "Not like this..."

A sigh, and the sound of movement. Someone getting up, moving away. "Set the equipment up again and tell Dawes we're back to square one. Again," he heard the voice say briskly. "We're not getting anywhere like this. He's still resisting."

"A telepath would be helpful," another, unfamiliar voice said.

"They're more trouble than they're worth. Remember..."

The voices moved away, and Scott slid into unconsciousness, not registering anything more.