Proteus

[x-mactaggart.livejournal.com]

Considering how long this is and the fact that it naturally falls into sections, the Proteus plot is going to be broken up. Thanks for everyone that did a log, that helped me bang it together, for being patient with delays and my first time handling anything this big. You guys kept me sane. Literally. There are some logs that will be coming later, including the very end fight.



Moira giggled as her uncle spun her once more around the dance floor before releasing her. The song ended and she curtsied as best she could in slacks and a sweater before heading off to get a glass of punch. Her cousin had been thoughtful enough to make a sign of a beer bottle with an "x" through it for the one closest to the door. She'd been dancing for a while, felt like hours, and she was dieing of thirst.

She had barely gotten the punch to her lips when she was semi-tackled by a large, snickering, fiancé-shaped being. "Outside!" Nathan hissed at her happily. "Quick! Agnes Purefoy is heading this way."

Laughing, she allowed herself to be gently shoved out the front doors. "Ach, nay Agnes Purefoy," she teased. "She'll be botherin' ye for dates on when yer ta make me yer proper wife an' nay leave me 'angin'. Ye brute."

"I knocked up Lady Kinross," Nathan said in a low, singsong voice. "They don't know whether to congratulate me or beat me. It's really very amusing." The cold night air was very welcome, and Nathan grinned as Moira leaned back against the wall of the pub, smiling up at him. "We could get up to all sorts of monkey-business here," he suggested cheerfully, leaning in to kiss her.

"Thank tha's wha' got us inta this situation, love," Moira laughed after the kiss, snuggling into him. There was snow on the ground and more falling even as they spoke. It had cold for a sudden drop in temperatures and a heavy mix of sleet and snow all night long. The storm was almost on top of them from the looks of it. "Gorgeous out 'ere."

"Perfect," Nathan said softly, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "Absolutely perfect." He hadn't felt like this on Santorini, hadn't even felt like this the afternoon after she'd told him yes, she'd marry him. There was something of the freedom of the first instance and the joy of the second here, but stronger, deeper than both was a sense of abiding peace and profound rightness. This was where they were meant to be, when all was said and done. Here. Together. Nathan closed his eyes, letting that all travel down the link.

Moira shivered and closed her eyes, the sounds of the pub fading away, leaving only his heart beat to listen to. She felt herself relax and all that tension from the last few weeks fade. They were going to have a baby and nothing could ruin this moment. It was just them and the snow, on Muir, where they belonged. Something, unfortunately, started to invade in on their privacy and she lifted her head and frowned. "Do ye 'ear a truck?" she asked, peering around at the street that led to the pub.

Nathan opened his eyes, blinking at what he sensed. "What the hell," he started confusedly, turning away. "There's something strange..."

"Strange 'ow?" she asked, walking a little further out. There was, indeed, a truck heading towards them, preceded by a black limo. The truck wasn't large but it was certainly no regular lorry. If the gleaming metal had anything to say with that. Squinting, she breathed out a curse as the limo stopped and out stepped a familiar figure. "Joe. Wha' th' bloody 'ell are ye doin' 'ere? Now?" she snapped, anger boiling through her. He had no right to be _here_, of all places.

Nathan stepped instinctively in front of Moira, his eyes narrowing. "Go," he said, his voice a low growl, "away. While you can still do it under your own power, MacTaggart."

Joe smirked and tugged on his jacket, ridding it of the creases the ride had created. "Moira, how could I not be here, today?" he asked, walking forward. Moira touched Nathan on the arm and walked around him, still keeping him at her side.

"Wha' do ye want? Ye know there'll be people 'ere, nay only Nathan, who'll want a strip o' yer 'ide," she commented, keeping her voice level.

Nathan's eyes flickered from Joe to the truck, then back to the bastard himself. "What did you do?" he demanded, his voice actually coming out unsteady. He barely registered Moira giving him a startled look; he was too focused on the presence inside the truck and MacTaggart's responsibility for it being here, now... "What the fuck did you do?"

"Well, I was going to keep this a surprise for a while longer but...you might want to keep your boyfriend's powers on a short leash, Moira. It could get you into trouble." Shrugging, he turned around and gestured. "Bring him out."

"...brin' who out, Joe? Wha's goin' on?" Even as she spoke, Moira saw that four or five men were rushing to get a door open. A few minutes passed, silence between them all, before they brought out a young man. Manacled, with a collar around his neck, he didn't walk so much as he shuffled. It wasn't until he glanced at Moira that an expression crossed his face.

Nathan immediately grabbed Moira's arm, pulling her back. "Inside," he snapped, agitated. "Right now."

"Nathan!" She pulled her arm out of his grasp. #Stop this, right now. I'm as safe out 'ere as I am in there, an ye know tha'. I need ta know wha's goin' on, wha' th' boy is 'ere for.# Moira turned to look at Joe as he stared at the young man. "Wha' is goin' on, Joseph, an' answer me rightly."

"I should have listened to you all those years ago," he said, a wistful sigh in his voice. "Mutants! Visions of tomorrow! But unlike what you think, my dear, they weren't born to be rulers but to be ruled. They are the power of tomorrow and we have to take the steps to make it so. The boy, by the way, I've named Jacob. Like we should have named our son."

"MacTaggart, you piece of shit!" Nathan snarled at him. Joe had no real shields, and the truth of what he'd done was right there on the surface of his thoughts.

"Would you kindly _stop_ that? You're taking away all of the mystery!" Glaring, he reached over and caressed the boy's hair. "He's autistic, you know, but I had a few weeks with him. I think we bonded over something." With a glint in his eye, Joe brought his hand down to the collar. "Shall I show you?"

This time, Nathan didn't give Moira the chance to protest. He grabbed her, pushing her forcefully back in the direction of the pub, reaching out telepathically for Alison and Haroun to sound the alert he should have given two minutes ago.

Moira didn't even try to fight back, simply clung to Nathan and watched, horrified, as Joe quickly backpedaled. The collar fell to the ground with a soft thunk, sinking quickly into the snow. The young man made a sound as he blinked, confused. Before he exploded into flame. Screams erupted, from him or the guards she couldn't tell, as he sank to his knees, the snow melting under him. Flames lept around his entire body, hiding the tall frame of the mutant and showing only the power that lay beneath. It quickly formed what could only be called a shell around him, roughly in the shape of a large body.

Very large, in fact, as he staggered back to his feet, howling in pain. Over seven feet of fire stood in the streets of Scotland where a man had recently been. "Oh nay," Moira moaned, clutching harder at Nathan. "I recognize tha'..."

And from the background, Moira heard a muffled “Damn it! Guards, stop Proteus!” from Joe before Nathan dragged her further away.





It had been less than ten seconds before the pub emptied out, Alison and Haroun at the head of the kids. They had all stood for a second, shocked at the firey display. The mutant howled again and Moira couldn't tell if it was from rage or from pain.

"What the bloody fuck is that?"

Amanda wasn't happy. One moment she was happily ensconced in a rather nice Scottish pub, seeing in the New Year in time-honoured British fashion (which involved drinking as much beer as she could wheedle out of various people and being generally cheerful). The next there was a commotion outside, and this big glowing… thing that apparently seemed intent on spoiling the fun. And that was just Not On. Especially when it was Moira's arsehole of an ex-husband apparently pulling the strings. Still, she wasn't about to do something foolish, like fling herself at the thing.

Unless, of course, it started heading for Moira.

The firey monster finished it’s latest howl of rage and turned to focus on…something. Moira? Yes, it was shambling towards Moira as Nathan pushed her further back. But before it could get there, Amanda stepped up, casting her shielding spell not around herself, but around the creature, thing, whateverthehell it was. A small gasp of surprise escaped her as she realized there was a person under all that glow, a person who was frightened and angry and… Amanda's thought processes abruptly halted as the mutant reached one large glowing hand up to the crackling blue energy of her spell, as if testing it. Obviously it didn't like what it felt, since it looked straight at her, and suddenly the world twisted.

It was like her mind had been turned inside out – not painful, but there was such a feeling of dislocation, of wrongness that she nearly vomited then and there. Looking around desperately, searching for some kind of focus point, a familiar face, rescue of some kind, all she could see was a jangle of colours, meaningless blobs of light and dark, all swirling crazily around…Instinctively she reached for a spell, any spell, only to find the sense of dislocation increasing tenfold, because there was no magic, all of her senses were out of whack, including the one that tapped into the mystical patterns of the earth itself, and she couldn't focus, she couldn't feel…

As suddenly as it happened, the warping ended, the world abruptly shifting back into focus. On her feet still, but barely, Amanda took several heaving breaths, eyes closed so she could concentrate on finding her centre again, and nearly wept with relief as it all came back with a dizzying rush. Opening her eyes, the relief was heightened by the sight of the mutant shambling away, attention caught by someone else. The cobbled streets oozed and wobbled like treacle pudding under its feet.

"Back, everyone get back!" Moira snapped as some of the locals pressed in closer.

The movement was enough to grab his attention and the head—barely recognizable as one with simply holes for eyes and a mouth--turned. Another bellow and suddenly he lashed out, catching the side of the pub.

Screams erupted as pieces of the building flew in different directions. Suddenly, Moira realized that this was _dangerous_ and whatever Joe had cooked up for them had obviously backfired, seeing as he was scrambling backwards with the rest of them.

"Clarice!" she shouted, trying to make her way to the MedLab assistant.

"Yeah, boss?" the purple girl replied, sidling over in an attempt to not attract attention. "This is major fubar!"

"Aye." She glanced over her shoulder as the X-Men present tried to control the crowd while they figured out what to do. "I need ye ta teleport 'im, an' us, ta Muir! Can ye do tha'?"

"In theory," she responded, before focusing on the Big Bad. Without warning her eyes glowed slightly and a large purple disk engulfed the thing causing it to disappear as suddenly as he had appeared. "Guess so." she said, smiling tightly. It hadn't been easy.

Rubbing her hands together in the cold night, she looked around at the assembled people, "I can't take everyone. X-Men first?"

“Aye, them an’ then th’ rest o’ us. Get us as close ta th’ castle as ye can!”

Minutes later, the entire group was reunited on the rocky island. They were a little further away from the castle than anyone had wanted—Proteus’ powers had apparently messed with Clarice’s aim.

Luckily, most of everyone there had the same idea. Either stall for time or head for the castle, as the world exploded around them. Even Joe, as stupid and willful as he was, saw and realized what was happening and headed there with him, having been caught up in Clarice’s last teleportation.