Lost in the Dark

MORTIMER


“Well, what do I have?”

Scott hung his head and sighed. “Syphilis,” he said flatly. I couldn’t speak. The worst should be over, I thought. The worst should be over, this shouldn’t be happening. “It’s in the early stages,” said Scott, “it’s treatable.”

“You mean it can be cured?”

“Yes,” he said. “We know some doctors who can treat you.”

I could only nod. “Did you call Erik?”

“The Professor did,” said Scott, “he’s on his way. Victor and Raven are coming too.”

I rubbed my forehead. There was a small, dark part of me that didn’t want to face them yet especially Vic. The knowledge that I’d have to tell him what had happened loomed in my mind like it was trying to push out of my skull. “Can I be alone for a minute?” I asked, unable to look at Scott.

“Sure,” he said. I nodded at him as he left. I could get out of telling Vic; Erik or Charles would do it for me if I asked them to, and I wanted to. I wanted to so badly it made me sick. What had happened was somethinwoulwould have to tell Vic on my own. I couldn’t avoid it, no matter how badly I wanted to.

He hit the floor hard, groaning loudly over the satisfying crunch of his ribs breaking. I watched the other two, breathing heavily. They were not going to do this to me. Not now, not ever. They’d overpowered me before, but they wouldn’t do it again.

“Fuckin son of a bitch!” shouted the one on the floor, dragging himself into a corner. “Motherfucker broke my ribs!”

“Come on, Toad, play nice…”

They both sprang at the same time. I’d pretty much expected it; that was how they’d gotten me down last time. I leapt, twisting and managing to grab onto the ceiling and stick there. I stared down at them, slinking across to the other side. The taller one swung at me and missed. A small crowd had gathered outside the cell. I could not let them do it again. Not under any circumstance. If I kept them back in front of the crowd, I’d be making an example out of them; showing the crowd that I wasn’t “their toy.”

I leapt down, kicking the taller one in the head. He fell back, cursing and pressing his hands to his forehead. The smaller one stepped forward quickly, as I was landing, his arm outstretched. I turned to face him, pivoting too quickly to get a good look at him. I heard a faint hiss, then my eyes were filled with a thick burning pain. Black spray filled my eyes and mouth as I stumbled back. Endure it, I told myself, endure it, just get past this and kick the shit out of him. My eyes burned, and I felt myself cough and sputter as the spray pelted me. Someone pushed me from behind, and I landed hard on my hands and knees. Oh God, please make them stop -

I shook the thought off and stood up. I heard confused footsteps and loud voices from the hall. I took a deep breath, and opened the door. I felt Vic’s arms around me before I saw him. He swooped down on me from behind, turning me around and pressing my face against his shoulder. For a moment, it was like time stopped. All I could see was his shirt and all I could hear was his heartbeat. It felt like the past had been erased; I was never in the dungeon, nobody hurt me. It took me a moment to realize that I was crying, and that’s when time resumed its course and the knowledge that I had been hurt came flooding back.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered, “I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you ever again.”

You’re too late, I thought, looking up at him. Bad things have already happened, and you won’t be able to protect me from the nightmares and the sickness…

The story just kind of exploded out of me. The words ran together and tripped over each other in a mad dash to get out of my mouth. I could see Erik and Raven with Charles, Ororo and Scott out of the corner of my eye, but the words kept flowing until nothing was left inside me. I felt Vic’s hands tightening on me, squeezing my arms until they felt numb. I saw the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing and heard his teeth grinding above everything else. The color had drained from his face, emphasizing the circles under his eyes and making him look ghastly and terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out finally, unable to look Vic in the eye. “I just…I couldn’t stop it from happening – ”

“No,” he said, his voice so sharp it surprised even him, “no, it isn’t your fault. You don’t have to be sorry.” I stared up at him, his face blurred by my tears. I felt him lean in and kiss my forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” He pulled me close to him again, rubbing my head with a large, calloused hand.

Time passed, as it always does, though normalcy never returned. I spent almost as much time in Charles’ MedLab as I did at home; checkups, exams, physical therapy for my body, mental therapy for my mind. It’s always the moment when you think you’ll recover, when you think you’re doing well, when things turn and spiral downhill.

I found out that Charles was harboring a man called Kurt Wagner. Charles described him as a refugee, a survivor of the Alkali Lake facility where I’d been held, but Charles is blinded by his own good intentions. Kurt Wagner was no refugee. He was a mutant who’d betrayed himself and his race by working with the soldiers. And that slimy double-agent had raped me on several occasions. The fucking kraut had probably given me syph.

“You filthy son of a bitch,” I snarled, stepping towards him. He took a step back.

“Please listen to me, I did it against my own will – ”

I sprang, knocking him to the ground and slamming his head against the floor. “No, you did it against my will, you sack of shit.” I hit him, smashing my fist into his nose and feeling it break beneath my curled fingers. He cried out, but didn’t fight back.

“Mortimer, what the hell – ”

I looked back over my shoulder. Charles was in the doy, hy, his eyes wide. He clearly hadn’t expected me to run into his little fugitive. “What the fuck is this?” I shouted, getting off Wagner’s chest and kicking him in the side. “This man raped me and you’re letting him live here?”

“Mortimer, he’s as much a victim as you are,” said Charles. “Stryker had a powerful mind-control substance, and he used it on Kurt, forcing him to harm you.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I said, “you can’t force someone to rape.”

“You don’t understand it,” said Charles. “Just calm down.”

“No,” I said, turning to leave. “I can’t believe you’d sink so low as to harbor a rapist!”

He yelled after me, but I left, slamming the door after me. I stormed off the property, too angry to see straight. It’s a wonder how I got home without killing anything. The place was empty when I got back, and I don’t know how long I stood in the kitchen, frustrated because I had to tell someone what had happened and wanting to be alone at the same time. I was standing in front of the counter stabbing a tomato with a carving knife without fully realizing that I was doing it when I heard Vic come in.

“What happened?” he asked, snatching the knife away from me and tossing it into the sink.

“Charles is harboring one of the rapists,” I said, explaining what had happened.

Vic just threw his head back and roared. The sound echoed off the walls and ceiling, radiating like an angry musical note. He slammed his fist against the counter so hard he left a dent and jerked his fist back as if nothing had happened. I took a step back; I’d never seen him this angry before. My hands shook as I leaned against the counter for support.

“I’m gonna kill that piece of shit,” he snarled, baring his teeth menacingly. “I’ll tear his fucking head off.” He turned on his heel, his trench coat swirling around him as he stalked towards the door. I watched him, my eyes watering involuntarily. As much as I wanted to be alone, I didn’t want him to leave me like that. I felt my heart sink, sliding down into my stomach.

“Do you still love me?”

He stopped dead in his tracks, turning slowly. “What?” he panted, the air rushing out of him. “Yes. Yes, of course I do.” He came toward me, reaching for me. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I looked down at my hands. Charles’ doctors had managed to cure me; advanced meds and procedures not only rendered me free of syphilis but made me pretty much immune to it. The therapy had been helping, but it worked much slower. The nightmares were gone for the most part; I could sleep through the night without waking up screaming, but intimacy was entirely different.

“You know I’d never hurt you like that,” said Vic, sitting beside me. I turned away from him, nodding.

“I know.”

He put his arm around me again, curling up beside me. “Just trust me, Mort.”

“I do,” I said, pulling away. “It’s just…not tonight. I mean, I can’t do it tonight.”

“All right,” he said. I rolled over to look at him. “I’ll be gentle with you,” he said, rolling onto his stomach. “Here, you be on top.”

I looked at him, but couldn’t feel anything. I swallowed and shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” He was silent. “It isn’t you,” I said. “It’s not, really. You’re wonderful, Vic. I love you, but…” I looked down at myself. “I feel like I can’t function anymore.”

“I’m a victim,” I said bitterly. “I’m damaged goods. I can’t give you what you need…I can’t…shit, I can’t even give myself what I need.”

“No,” he said, his voice suddenly becoming firm. He put his hand on my arm. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t even think it. It isn’t true.”

“It is,” I said, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. It stung faintly, and I brushed it away. “You don’t have to pretend or lie or anything to make me feel better.”

“But I’m not,” he said. “That isn’t how I see you, and I don’t want you to see yourself that way either.”

I stared at him. “How do you see me?”

“You aren’t a victim. You’re a survivor,” he said.I leI let him put his arms around me and kissed him. “Thank you, Vic.”

“It’s the truth.”

END