Mirror, Mirror

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALVIE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Guess who’s grocery store has Milka now, lol? InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: *random comment * Morgan: *sneakier stalk * Readers/Reviewers: Thank you for reading/reviewing as you can! J

“You are an idiot!”

Evan winced as Callisto shoved him into the concrete wall of the tunnel, one of his spikes snagging and breaking. It felt like tearing a nail but, he decided, a million times worse. “I was trying to help!”

“You were trying to spy,” she spat. “Sending Damian to the Institute was the worst idea you’ve had in weeks!” She raked her fingers through her hair savagely, setting it in a dozen different directions. “Shall I enumerate the reasons this was a stupid idea? Maybe starting with the fact that Damian is all of twelve years old, he’s as subtle as a road flare and IT WAS A STUPID IDEA!” She kicked the wall, shoving herself away and turning to stride into the depths of the tunnel. “We’re on treacherous ground here, Spyke. I had to sell my soul to Professor Xavier to ensure our safety for just a little while longer. Our revolt was a failure. All it did was make us an obvious threat rather than a subtle one.”

Evan felt the anger boiling inside his chest as he started after her. “Marrow was right,” he snapped. “You’re a piss-poor leader! All you care about is getting your way!” He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that it was not the best moment to express that particular opinion.

Callisto was in his face before he could back up even a step. She grabbed him by the arms, her grip stronger than he had expected, stopping just short of shaking him until his eyes rolled back in his head. “Marrow,” she said in a low, growling tone, “is not to be mentioned here. She is not welcome in the Tunnel!”

“She’s a Morlock, too,” Evan stated flatly, refusing to let his sudden fear show. “I thought the whole point of living this life, being cut off from humanity was to support each other and protect each other!”

“My GOD you sound like a fucking Hallmark card!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling of the Tunnel. A rustle of movement let them know that they were not alone, that likely a dozen or more Morlocks were watching from the shadows. “We are cut off from humanity because humanity is a lie. We’re no longer human, Evan.” She shook him then, almost gently. Her voice was very tired, no trace of the anger from mere moments before. “We may walk on two legs—most of us—and vaguely resemble humans, but those Elohim, they don’t want us. We’re the monsters under the bed.”

“So we try to attack them? That’s what the monsters under the bed do…” He rubbed the sore spots on his arms where she had grabbed him, following her as she resumed her trek down the long tunnel. “You wanted an uprising. You wanted to remind them that we’re here, that you can’t hide us. Now you’re talking like you’re happy to just hide in the dark. Are you giving up?”

Callisto turned, walking backwards as she gave Evan an assessing look. “My,” she crooned, “you’ve done a complete turnaround, haven’t you?” She snorted when he opened his mouth to protest, cutting him off. “Marrow wants to slaughter them all. I just want them to know… I want them to…” she trailed off, her brows creeping upwards. “I know what you want. I know what you want to do…” She stopped walking, folding her arms across her chest as if she were cold. “You complain about Magneto, about how he wants the norms to be under us, to subjugate them so they finally learn who is the evolved, the perfect one…” She smiled widely then, a defiantly predatory expression on her features. “Your dirty little secret, Spyke… I know exactly what it is.”

Evan recoiled, disgust filling him as he realized the desire he had kept packed down into a tiny corner of his mind, the shred of a hateful thing that preyed on him in the darkest hours, was writ plain for Callisto to see. Drawing himself up straight, his spikes bristling in the very dim light of the Tunnel, he turned his back on her. “I have things I need to do. It’s my turn to guard the 57th street entrance.”

“Marrow isn’t coming back for you, you know,” she called after his retreating form. Marrow was a hateful word to her. It was like a canker in her mouth for all the pleasure it gave her. Marrow had refused to return, had sworn to set out on her own with the other disaffected Morlocks. Sadly, Callisto realized, there were dozens. Their numbers had taken a significant hit since the aborted uprising. Caliban was still nowhere to be found and he had been an important part of the group. With a resigned, pained sigh, she ducked into the alcove that was once a mechanical room but now served as a sort of ops center for the group. A gift from Essex sat against the far wall, gift wrapped in twine and canvas, nodding along with the hum of distant traffic. Essex had given her a bribe, she thought. Something as a show of good faith but he knew as well as she did that it was wholly inappropriate and to accept it meant to accept his ways. “Wake up,” she snapped, letting her irritation with Evan surface in her tone. “Make yourself useful!”

Forge opened first one eye, then the other. “Untie me first.” His voice was thick with disuse, his jaw aching as the words struggled to surface.

Callisto hesitated, then proceeded forward, unsheathing her knife. “Essex was to take you back tonight but he seems to have forgotten you.”

“Color me sad,” he grumbled, rubbing his wrists as she freed him. “You his woman or something?”

“I’m nobody’s anything,” she snarled, pressing the tip of the blade against the soft hollow of his throat. “Got it?”

“Right on,” he smirked, feeling a bit better than he had a few moments before. “I don’t want to be here and you don’t want me here. Let’s make a deal.”