Lost in the Dark

Charles told us Mortimer was dead, but I'd forgotten about it about a week later. I think we all forgot it; Scott was still brooding over Jean's death, as was Logan, though he did it in secret, and Kurt had never known Mortimer. He was forgotten almost instantaneously, another casualty for us to add to our collective mourning.

I had known Mortimerce Ice I was fifteen. We were both Charles' students, X-Mansion Alums. Mortimer left the school about a month after Erik enrolled him. I think it was mostly our fault; Scott, Jean, and I weren't as kind to him as we should've been. We were teenagers, wrapped up in our own problems and fixated on our own mutations. I suppose we all thought we had it bad, then we saw Mort with his green skin, webbed hands, and fifteen-foot tongue, and we secretly felt better about ourselves. We'd finally met someone freakier than we were, and we were glad, though we'd never admit it.

Victor was enrolled as well. Erik brought him about a week before Mort had his meltdown and withdrew. Vic was older, ninteen. He was withdrawn and sullen, always quiet and brooding. Scott, Jean, and I never really talked to him or to Mort. We had our own little circle ofmalcmalcy that we wanted to keep pure. When I think about it, Vic and Mort were almost forced together.

I entered the rec room without bothering with the light. It was sunny out, and the light poured in through the windows, illuminating the quiet TV and the pool table. The rec room was usually empty on weekdays, and Jean usually wentre tre to study. She hadn't quite mastered her telepathy, and was always overhearing everyone's thoughts, whether she wanted to or not.

"Jean? Are you - "

I froze. Mort and Vic were standing there, their backs t, an, and their eyes shut. They were kissing. Vic had his arms wrapped around Mort's waist, and Mort had tangled one of his hands in Vic's thick blonde ponytail. The kiss was passionate, like they were trying to consume each other. I wasn't sure if I was disgusted or aroused. Jean had once told me that thouthought Mort might be gay, but I'd just dismissed it as unimportant.

I don't remember screaming, but everyone tells me that I did. Vic and Mort sprang back from each other, heading in opposite directions. Mort took a few steps back, melting into the shadows, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and embarrassment. His knuckles were pressed against his mouth, as if the kiss would fly away like a butterfly if he didn't hold it down. Vic approached me, grabbing me by the arm so hard it bruised.

"If you tell anyone about this, I will kill you," he snarled, pulling me toward him roughly. I couldn't respond. I just stood there, staring at him. We probably would've stood there forever if the door hadn't burst open. My scream had apparently attracted Scott's attention, and he stood there, his hands on his glasses, ready to blow a hole through whatever was attacking me.

"What's going on?"

Vic let go of my arm, shoving me back slightly. "Nothing."

"They were kissing!" I blurted it out, pointing at them. Scott made a face like he'd bitten into a lemon and took a step back.

"You know, I always made fun of the way he talked behind his back." I turned around, face to face with Scott.

"What?"

He shrugged. "I was thinking about Mortimer," he said. "I can't believe he's dead." I looked down at my hands, aware that I was probably responsible for his death. If the lightning didn't kill him, then he probably drowned. I had forced myself not to think too hard about it. It was an act of self defense, I told myself. He wanted to kill me. I had to defend myself.

"Do you know what happens to a toad when it's struck by lightning?" I shouted, glaring darkly at him. I raised my hands, feeling the lightning begin to stir in the air. I loved the way it felt. It was hot and slippery and powerful. So powerful. "Well let's find out!"

I threw it at him. It was like throwing a baseball, but much more euphoric. It felt beautiful. Beautiful and powerful bad bad and good all at the same time. I heard him screaming over the sharp crackling of the lightning but I didn't care. I released the lightning just as he let go of the bar, plummeting back into the harbor.

I grinned as I walked back into the statue.

"Yeah," I said. "We all made fun of him."

"You think he left because of us?"

"You know he did."

We didn't say anything for a long time. Scott put an awkward hand on my shoulder, almost like he didn't know what to do. Jean was the only woman he'd ever been intimate with. Scott and I had been close, but never in a physical way. We'd never hugged or shook hands or touched in any sort of way. It felt strange to feel his hand on my shoulder. Strange and comforting at the same time. We were interrupted by a knock at the door. We both rose simultaneously, realizing that something was very wrong. It hadn't really been a knock, but a dull thud, like an animal or something had just ran into the door by accident. Scott opened the door without bothering to look through the peephole, and a small, dark body spilled into the house, landing on him. I didn't recognize it at first; it was wet and battered and bruised beyond all recognition.

"Jesus Christ! It's Mort!"

"Holy shit..." Scott tipped Mort's head back, revealing greenish skin and a mouth full of bad teeth. Mort's face was bruised; one eye swollen shut and a fat, bloodied lip. He groaned, and I saw his legs twitch, as if he was trying to stand. Scott was talking to him, dragging him into the house. For a moment, all I could do was watch, then I gathered myself and shut the door. I helped Scott bring Mort to the medlab.

"Oh Christ, what do we do?" Scott looked helplessly at me. I looked back at the table where we'd placed Mortimer's body. He was lying perfectly still, his breathing steady, but shallow. He was drenched. I closed my eyes, trying to remember everything I'd ever learned about medicine.

"We have to get him warm," I said after a minute. "He probably has hypothermia." I grabbed a scalple and began slicing Mort's clothing off. It clung to him like a second skin, and stank like wet wool, mud, and something I couldn't quite name. Scott helped me, finding a pair of scissors and managing to pull Mort's boots off. I made Scott take over while I grabbed as many blankets as I could carry.

"Oh Jesus, I'm gonna be sick..." I looked up. He'd rolled Mort onto his stomach and was staring at the back of his legs. The backs of his thighs and buttocks were covered with bruises and cuts thatcould have only been caused by sodomy. Scott looked up at me, silently asking me what to do about it. I stared for a moment, then scurried over with the blankets. Scott turned Mort over, trying to be as gentle as possible. Mort groaned softly and twitched. I started to wrap the blankets around him. Jean had once told me that the best way to warm someone up was to climb naked into a sleeping bag with them. I stopped bundling the blankets around Mort and began getting undressed. "What are you doing?"

"The best way to get rid of hypothermia is to...get naked with someone who's...naked...Jean told me that once." I dropped my blouse and skirt on the floor and hopped onto the table in my bra and panties. Scott just stared at me as I climbed between the blankets, nestling against Mortimer. He stirred slightly at my touch, nuzzling against me on instinct. I stared at Scott. "You really should help." He sighed, then began getting undressed. I looked away, giving him a little privacy. He slid under the blankets, shuddering slightly as he came into contact with Mort's cold clammy skin. I couldn't help but laugh when Mort turned slightly, nestling closer to Scott.