Lost in the Dark

*WARNING: this chapter contains nonconsensual sex between men. If that makes you uncomfortable, then don't read it.*

"It's disgusting, that's all," said Scott, "I mean, that's a room we all have to share."

"That's right," said Victor, "it's for all of us. You sayin me and Mort shouldn't be allowed in there?"

"No!" Scott squirmed in his seat. "But what you were doing there was gross!"

"You're acting like we were having sex," said Victor. "I've seen you do worse with Jean."

"Hey, that's none of your business!"

"Yeah," said Ororo, still rubbing her bruised arm. "And at least what Scott and Jean do isn't a sin!"

"Shut your fucking mouth," said Victor.

"What's going on?" I finally reached the rec room, where Victor, Scott, Ororo, and Mortimer were standing. It looked like Scott and Victor were going to rip each other apart. Ororo turned to me, her face flooded with relief.

"They were kissing!" she said, pointing to Mortimer and Victor. "They were making out!" All I could do for a moment was stare at the two boys. I suppose if I'd read their minds (and violated their privacy), I would've found out about their sexual preferences and probably could've prevented this outburst.

"No we weren't," snapped Victor, "it was just a kiss."

"I can't share a room with them," said Scott suddenly, backing away from Victor. The realization that Victor and Mortimer preferred men had just sunken in, and Scott was terrified.

"What, you think I'll climb into bed with you?" asked Victor, wrinkling his nose in disgust, "don't flatter yourself, slim."

"Ew! This is gross!" cried Ororo.

"Oh, shut up, you stupid cow," said Mortimer suddenly. He stepped out of the shadows, where he'd been standing with his hands pressed against his mouth.

"What did you just call me?" Ororo turned to him, her milky eyes blazing.

"You heard me - "

I moved between them, forcing them apart. "Everyone, be quiet," I said. "Mortimer, I want you to apologize to Ororo." He glared darkly at me, clenching and unclenchinhg his jaw and fists.

"No," he said.

"Mortimer - "

"I'm fucking sick of this place," he shouted suddenly. "I hate it here!"

"Mortimer, please calm down - "

"I'm tired of being made fun of, and I'm tired of you telling me that we can all get along, because obviously we can't," he said, shouting at me. "Scott and Jean and Ororo, they fucking hate me!"

"No they don't," I said, remaining calm. I hadn't had any experience with angry teenagers before, but I had faced worse adversaries than overemotional teens. "Mortimer, no one here hates you."

He turned to Scott and Ororo, tears shining in his eyes but refusing to fall down his cheeks. "You think that I can't hear you," he said, spitting out the words, "you think I don't know what you say when I'm not around." He approached Scott, staring up at the taller boy.

Scott swallowed. "I don't say anything about you," he said. I didn't even have to read his mind to know he was lying. He had it written all over his face.

"You're lying," snapped Mortimer. "You're a fucking liar."

"Mortimer, that's enough," I said.

"Why won't you let him stand up for himself?" asked Victor. "Just because Scott's your favorite doesn't mean you can let him get away with murder." He glared at me. "I've heard him, too."

I couldn't think of anything to say. Scott was my favorite student; but I would never admit to anyone that I played favorites. Not even myself. All I could do was watch as Mortimer and Victor left the room, stalking out together in silence. I stared after them, knowing that they were lost to me, that I couldn't reach them. I felt empty and hollow. I'd failed them. They were two children who'd come to me looking for guidance, and I had failed to help them. I left the room without looking at Scott or Ororo, finding Mortimer at the phone in the hallway, talking to Erik. Victor was standing beside him like a bodyguard.

They were gone the next day. Erik came and picked them up, staring at me wordlessly. He didn't have to say anything. I knew what he was thinking, and I didn't even have to read his mind. 'You were wrong, Charles. If we can't get along amongst ourselves, how can we get along with humans?'

Professor! Professor, we need you in the medlab, it's an emergency.

To say that I was shocked when I found out he was alive would be an understatement. Scott's telepathic cries for assistance in the medlab pulled me out of the memory. I made my way to the lab and found something so completely unexpected I thought I was dreaming.

Scott and Ororo were lying on the table, wrapped up in thick gray blankets. I saw most of their clothing on the floor around the table, along with a dark wet mass of fabric that stank of wool, blood, dirt, and sweat. I saw a small, dark green body huddled between them, nestled against Scott's chest. It was Mortimer. Most of his body was hidden by the blankets, but I noticed a webbed hand resting against Scott's shoulder. Scott turned to me as I approached, trying to scoot away from Mortimer's body. Mortimer only snuggled closer. He was on the verge of regaining consciousness.

"What happened?" I asked softly.

"We found him outside on the doorstep," said Scott softly. "We're..." he looked at Ororo, who only smiled up at him, trying not to giggle as Mortimer mumbled something unintelligable and slid his hand up towards Scott's face. "We're trying to cure his hypothermia."

"Yes, I can see that," I said. "Do you know what happened to him?"

Scott was silent for a moment, then leaned closer, straining his neck. "He's beat up pretty bad," he whispered. "And he's been...sodomized..."

"You mean raped?" Scott only nodded. I moved, positioning myself above their heads. I placed my hands on Mortimer's temples, closing my eyes, and probing through his mind. I didn't like reading his mind without his permission. I felt dirty, like a spy. I kept telling myself that it was the only way I could figure out what happened to him, in the event that he didn't wake up.

I'll have nightmares forever.

I saw him in a dark cell-like room. There were four other men in there with him, wearing dark-colored army fatigues. One of them grabbed Mortimer by the hair and slammed the side of his face against the wall. I heard him scream as he was thrown to the ground. He sprang up almost instantly, licking the blood off his lips. His eyes darted between the four men; he knew what they wanted, and he knew he couldn't stop them.

"Why are you making this difficult, Toad?" asked one man, stepping towards him. He was holding a pair of handcuffs.

"Yeah," said another, taking a billy club from his belt. "What's the matter? I'm not your type?"

"Little fag's just playing hard to get..."

One of the men sprang at him, but Mortimer managed to dodge him, retreating back into the cell. "Don't do this," he said. "Please. I'll do anything, just don't - " The man with the billy club struck him, hitting him upside the head. Mortimer cried out, and the other two men were on him, pinning him down while the third handcuffed him. "No, don't, please!"

They raped him. They took turns, each rougher and more violent than the one before him. They laughed while they did it, taunting him. Mortimer screamed, tears streaming down his face. His screams finally subsided, turning into whimpers of pain. Eventually they were through, and they let him up, pulling the handcuffs off him and leaving him alone in the dark. He pulled his pants up slowly, crawling onto his narrow cot and curling up into a fetal position.

"Professor?" Scott's voice brought me out of Mortimer's head for an instant. I looked down at him with blurred vision. I slowly wiped the tears from my eyes. I looked at Ororo. She was staring up at me, her eyes wide with concern. I stared down at Mortimer again. His bruised, swollen lips twitched, and his eyelids fluttered, but he didn't wake up. I closed my eyes, putting my hands back on his temples, and went back in.

This was later. Mortimer had lost track of how many times he'd been raped and beaten. He kept telling himself that he didn't care, that they'd kill him eventually, that he'd be dead soon. He didn't think he'd ever escape; he'd heard about Erik's incarceration and he knew there was no hope of rescue. He kept telling himself it didn't matter. As far as he knew, there were no windows anywhere in the whole place. He didn't know how long he'd been there. He was beginning to wonder if he was already dead and in Hell. He heard voices outside his cell and opened his eyes. The soldiers were back, and were probably in the mood for more 'fun.' He sat there, waiting for them to enter. He wasn't going down without a fight.

He was more than shocked when another mutant entered. I recognized him right away; it was Kurt Wagner, the Incredible Nightcrawler. Mortimer stared at him; he came to the conclusion that he really was in Hell. After all, here was a demon. Kurt stared at him with large yellow eyes that looked hollow, like he wasn't all there. He was grinning, his sharp white teeth gleaming in the light from the hallway.

"Go on, Wagner," shouted a soldier from the hall, "fuck that limey piece of shit till he can't walk!"

Mortimer scrambled to his feet, backing against the wall as Kurt approached him. "Don't," he whispered. "Please, don't. We can find a way to escape, to get out of here. I'll figure something out, I swear, just - " Kurt struck him, slamming him back against the wall. Mortimer groaned, but regained his senses quickly, kicking Kurt in the side. Kurt swore in German, stumbling back. Mortimer leapt over him, grabbing the bars and rattling them. "Let me out," he pleaded, "please, I'll do anything, just let me out."

Kurt grabbed him by the hair, jerking his head back. Mortimer cried out as Kurt dragged him backwards, throwing him to the ground. It's needless to say that Kurt raped him, but Mortimer was able to fight him off for a while. Malnourished and battered as he was, Mortimer was able to put up a good fight, but in the end, Kurt was able to get him down on his hands and knees. The soldiers cheered Kurt on, laughing at Mortimer's screams and cries for help. It stopped eventually, and Kurt left the cell, grinning. He moved stiffly, almost like he'd been lobotomized, and there was a small circular mark on the back of his neck. I knew that it was from Stryker's mind-control substance, but Mortimer didn't. He knelt there, shivering and crying, watching as Kurt was led away by cackling soldiers.

Kurt was back sometime later, and it happened all over again. Mortimer either lost track of how many times it happened or never kept track in the first place. Kurt grew increasingly violent with him, slamming his head against the wall or floor, breaking fingers and ribs, strangling him with his tail. Each time Kurt left the cell, soldiers would come in and drag Mortimer off to a medical bay of some sort. It was hard to see; Mortimer's memories of it were blurred from a combination of his injuries and the injections that the doctors and scientists continually gave him.

The trance broke when he stirred, groaning and moving his head away from my hands. I watched him for a moment, waiting for him to settle back against Scott so I could continue probing his mind. I was curious, in a sick sort of way, I suppose. I wanted to know how he'd managed to escape. I was still waiting for him to quiet down and stay still when he opened his eyes, or the one eye that he could open; the other one was swollen shut, probably from multiple blows to the head.

"Vic? That you, love?" he asked, his speech slurred nearly beyond all recognition. He moved his hand up into Scott's hair, feeling around, almost stroking him. "You get a haircut?"

"No, Mort, I'm not Vic," said Scott, brushing his hand away gently. Mortimer struggled to lift his head, squinting at him.

"Scott?" He looked around, noticing Ororo beside him. She smiled; I could tell she was trying not to laugh. "How did we get like this?"

"Mortimer," I said. He turned his head, following the sound of my voice. "Scott and Ororo found you outside. Do you know how you got here?"

"Walking mostly," he said. "I escaped from...somewhere."

"I'm going to call Erik," I said. "And he'll probably come by tomorrow morning to see you."

"Erik's in jail," he said. "I heard from someone..."

"He escaped," I said. "A little while ago."

"Oh." He put his head down, scooting back, away from Scott. Scott patted his shoulder, as if to tell him that he didn't feel awkward about it.

"I'm going to go now, all right? I'll be back in a little bit." He nodded, and I left, heading for the elevator. I wasn't sure what to tell Erik, aside from the fact that Mortimer was alive.