Devourer of Sins

DEVOURER OF SINS (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies and leader of the Royal Menagerie (Ted, Dodo, Joris, Kristen and Lucas...whew!) is supercool for beta-ing AND providing the plotbunny for this one! Vampyre: *crickets chirping * InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink get lots and lots and lots of chocolate for archiving! Readers/Few Reviewers: You know that quacking you hear when you're by yourself? That's them... I see ducks...they're everywhere... (er...Sixth Sense moment...)



"This is regoddamneddiculous!"
"I'm sorry, Rogue...I can't help that I got the flu," Jamie said thickly, his nose throbbing from over-blowing and throat scratchy from constant drainage.
Rogue sighed. "I know...sorry. I'm just stressed out. I hope you feel better, Jamie."
He shrugged and smiled weakly, " 'Sokay...you miss Todd. I miss Rahne...kinda makes us edgy, huh?"
The Goth smiled crookedly and said, "Don't let on that I got feelings, 'kay? People might start to think I care!"
Jamie laughed, the sound turning into a cough. "You got it, Rogue."
Remy trotted down the stairs with the air of a man headed to the guillotine. "Ready, belle Rogue?"
"Ready as I'll ever be...hey, Jamie, wanna breathe some of your germs on me?"
"Logan told me that if any of you came down with the flu, I'd have to nurse you back to health myself. So, no. No germs for you!"
Remy sighed. "Damn...anudder plan down de drain...least ways I getta be wid Jubilee, eh?"
"Shaddup, Gumbo," Rogue snapped, her dawning good mood vanishing. "I'm gonna be at the Blackbird..."
Remy whistled under his breath. "Man, she in a bad mood, eh?"
Jamie blew his nose noisily and nodded. "Mus' be cuz Todd's in D.C. wid Storm an' Rahne," he said, voice slowly growing thicker with each passing word.
Remy made a face. "Go ta bed, man...jus' don' breathe on me!"
Jamie nodded glumly. He turned and trudged up the stairs, feeling as if lead weights were attached to his limbs. He made it almost all the way to his door before the floor tilted up to meet him. _Was the carpet always this high? I could've sworn it was lower this morning...Maybe I'm shrinking. Honey, I shrunk the mutants...Ooooh. _ He hit the floor with a dull thud and did not even notice when four im rim rolled away, each sprawling on the carpet, mimicking his attitude of vague distress and general malaise. Five sneezes suddenly sounded in the hallway, all at once. _This can't be good... _

"Was that Jamie I heard sneezing?" Scott asked, rounding the corner to nearly run into Remy.
"Yeah...says he got de flu..." Remy shrugged. "Poor kid...jus' hope I ain't getting' it!"
Scott snorted. "Until this morning, I thought he was faking to get out of holiday duty...heard him yakking1 at two a.m., though, so I guess he's really sick."
"Least you got the food pantry...we gotta go stand in the cold all day and ring damn bells!" Jubilee was not amused. Their first day out, the day before acty, sy, she had been cursed at, hit on, spit on once, and had to tear the Hell out of the Danger Room when she returned to the mansion that evening. "If the Professor wants us to have holiday cheer, this ain't gonna do it!"
Scott snorted. "At least you don't have Il Duce for your supervisor...Nettie is a bitch on wheels and I think I caught her staring at my ass yesterday!"
"Ooooh...I'm gonna tell Jean you've got a piece on the side," Jubilee said, sing-song.
"Shut up...don't talk about Jean." Scott flushed a dull read and turned, pretending to study the clock. He had spent most of the previous night sleepless, worrying about Jean and, to a somewhat lesser extent, Kurt and Kitty. He had alternated worrying with lascivious thoughts of just how he was going to welcome Jean home and wondering if she would think it funny if he put a bow on the most welcoming part of his anatomy. The nagging worry that had set in earlier that afternoon still would not go away, though, even after a long session in the shower and once more at bed time, exhausting his supply of hand lotion and making him all the more sore. _What if something happened to them? Can Jean communicate from that far away? What if she can't and needs help? What if they're no phones nearby? Damn it, I should've put my foot down, made her-them-stay. Aw, Hell. She's in Mexico, soaking up rays and getting a tan. They're with the Professor's friend so nothing bad can happen to them, right? _ Mind pleasantly abuzz with thoughts of Jean's tan lines and just how he would find them out, Scott trotted after a grumbling Lance and smirking Amara out to the car, ignoring the cacophony of sneezes erupting above stairs.

_Drip. _
_Drip. _
_Drip. _
Jean rolled onto her back, thestanstant sound of water dripping from stone annoying her into wakefulness. The room was so dark that she could not see her hand before her face and she had a brief moment of illogical panic. _ Am I dead? Oh, God...where am I? Calm down...panicking won't help. A quick scan to see if I'm alone and then I'll worry about everything else. _ She forced her mind to empty and she checked as far as she could, finding no other living being sharing her space. _Shit. Okay. Now. Next problem. Where am I? _ Under her back, she felt cold rock, slightly damp and smelling of wet earth. Slowly, she moved one arm out to the side and felt nothing, just more stone floor. In a tremulous arc, she moved her arm above her head, her finger tips brushed a rough wall of stone, just barely out of reach. _Other side...I swear I'll scream like a girl if there's a dirty great snake2 in here with me... _ Her hand touched nothing but stone floor on that side as well, so she extended her arms above her, a sick feeling that she was entombed washing through her, her breath already coming in hitches when she felt nothing, the space above her clear. Here goes nothing. Jean forced herself to sit up, her muscles screaming with sore agony. The last thing she remembered was Simpson whag thg through underbrush with his old machete, mumbling about damned kids and messed up plans. The rest was in Spanish so she had been paying less attention to him and more to what was going on around her, catching sight of another batch of the glowing flowers she had seen behind the hut. Simpson had turned and, rather than snapping at her for dallying, smiled. Then her world went black, a chemical tang flooding her mouth and nose. _Poisoned. Maybe I inhaled something off that flower...no, why would I be here if I'd done that? Simpson must've done it. He must've poisoned me somehow...But I saw him the whole time? A slow-reacting poison? Something in my breakfast? Or did I only think I saw him the whole time? _ Her head was throbbing and strangely empty. She could not remember a time when she could not hear or feel _something _ other than herself in her head, the buzz of others, a constant background noise to her own thoughts. Even when she blocked them out, the preseof oof others was known, almost comforting. Now, she felt...nothing. Alone. The only thoughts in her head were her own as she bent her head to her knees, crying jaggedly in the deep black of the chamber.

The sun was directly overhead and Kurt was openly panting. He no longer cared if Kitty saw him. Fur was hot! Kitty had tried to make him comfortable, making him take off his shoes and most of his clothes, sponging his brow and chest as often as he let her. Still, he felt like he was going to burst into flames from the heat, like his lungs were filling with water from the humidity. "Poor Fuzzy," Kitty crooned. She was burning hot herself, but had not resorted to stripping down. Simpson and Jean still were not back yet and the body across the clearing was haunting their every thought. After they had made love earlier, Kitty felt instantly guilty, like she had somehow betrayed the child by enjoying herself. She played like she felt fine to Kurt, but she knew he could tell. She knew by the way his eyes took on a sad expression and he sighed every time he looked at her, compounding her guilt. Now, with the sun blazing overhead and the verdant jungle suffocating the life out of them, Kitty damned herself for wasting time on guilt and forced her focus on Kurt's comfort. "Do you want some more water?"
"Nein...I was counting on being underground by now, in Simpson's site...it's cooler in caves usually and I could handle the daylight hours better there..."
Kitty made him take a sip from her bottle anyway and stroked the hair off his brow. "They'll be back soon and we can get cool...even if it means sitting in the Jeep with the A/C going." Simpson had taken the keys with him as if he were afraid they would leave once he was gone.
"I feel like I'm dying," Kurt moaned.
"You just weren't made for jungles, babe," Kitty sighed. _I'm from the Midwest...we're not built for this, either! _ Kitty was fairly certain that the elastic in her underwear had melted to her skin and her sweat glands were lng ang a formal protest with her brain. "We'll have to make sure our honeymoon is somewhere cool."
"Katzchen! Of all the times..." Kurt chuckled faintly. Kitty merely grinned as she pushed his hammock, stirring the air around him and making a small breeze, cooling him slightly. "Danke, Schatz..."
"Hola! Hello!" A male voice lilted across the camp and both teenagers started.
"Wait here, babe," Kitty said, hurrying out into the clearing. A slight man, taller than Kitty but barely average height, broke through the underbrush encircling the encampment and Kitty waved. "Hey!"
"Are you Miss Pryde? I suppose you must be...you don't look like a Mister Wagner!" the man said with a self-deprecating smile as he strode forward, extending his hand to shake Kitty's. She felt disoriented for a moment, like she was having déjà vu. "I'm Detective Ruiz, from Mexico City. Professor Simpson and Miss Grey reached the village of Templo del Muerte a few hours ago and radioed my office in Mexico City for help...Where's the body?"
Kitty breathed a sigh of relief. "Over there!" she exhaled, pointing to the other hut. "We haven't moved him...It's awful!"
Ruiz nodded. "A moment..." He turned back to the underbrush and nodded. A woman, taller than he, her intense glower doing nothing to mar her beauty, stalked out of the green plants and was at his side in short order. "This is Detective Guzman. She is my partner...senior partner, as it were...please forgive her that she does not speak English."
Kitty nodded slowly. She had the feeling of disorientation again as she looked at the exotic woman but shook it off when she realized Ruiz was waiting for her to say something. "Um, how did you get here so quickly?"
Smiling sharkishly, Ruiz replied, "Helicopter! We are not as backwards here in Mexico as you gringos seem to think we are..."
Kitty blushed. "I didn't mean to imply...I'm sorry!"
"Think nothing of it!" Ruiz waved his hand negligently. "Wait here...we will see the body and return shortly." Ruiz and Guzman strode to the hut opposite, leaving Kitty staring after them.
_I know them from somewhere...Maybe it's the heat getting to me... _
"Liebes?"
"Oh!" Kitty turned to find Kurt leaning against the doorframe, looking as if he had been rode hard and put away wet. "Simpson sent some people to see to the body!"
"Where are he and Jean then?" Kurt felt a vague niggling in the back of his mind, hearing Ruiz speak to Kitty. Something seemed off about the man, his appearance from Mexico City in hours when it took them almost al dal day to make it from the airport to the camp. There had been no helicopters overhead the entire day-the sound would have been noticeable in the jungle.
"I...I don't know..." Kitty frowned, suddenly bothered by this. "Detective Ruiz," she called to the man as he approached from the hut, "where are the professor and our friend?"
"Ah, I did not want to tell you but I must...your friend Jean fell ill in town! It seems she ingested some pollen from the flore de muerte, ah, the flower of death..."
"What?" Kitty gasped. "You don't mean those white ones, the glowy things?"
"One and the same...the pollen, in small enough doses, sickens the victim and can sometimes be deadly, but usually only in the right dose. The locals have a remedy but it takes much time to prepare and administer. Senor Simpson and your friend must stay in the town until she has taken everything."
Kurt had sank back into the shadows when Ruiz returned. He had not put his holo on for fear of wearing out the battery, the portable charger something he did not quite trust. He knew Ruiz could not see him, despite his glowing eyes, He was braced precariously in the corner of the hut, a good six feet off the ground, angled so that he could see the back of Kitty's head and hear them clearly. Kitty tensed perceptibly and said, much to Kurt's relief, "Take us to them. We're not staying here alone and she's our friend, practically a sister." Kurt hissed a sigh of pride, doing an internal happy dance that Kitty was being demanding.
Ruiz shifted uneasily for a moment, but his curt, "Si...get your things. We hiked in so you will have to walk...the heat of the day is the worst time to exercise as such, but we have to get moving before dark!"
Kitty nodded and said, "Give us five minutes to get essentials. And a bag for Jean...I know she didn't take anything with her!"
As Kitty spoke, Guzman came from the other hut, eyes hooded and mouth drawn in a frown. The expression only deepened as she overheard Kitty's conversation with Ruiz. The older woman did not say anything, though, merely glared. Kurt cocked his head, trying to place her, but feeling the same déjà vu Kitty had. As he stared, Guzman turned towards him, her eyes pinning him to the spot. _She can see me! Fuck all...she can see me in the dark! _

1 For those who don't know...another term for vomiting.
2 I love that line from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, when Ron comments on the fact that if a "dirty great snake" were roaming the corridors, someone was bound to notice.