Unchained Instinct ( Complete)

Chapter 1

She was brooding again, deep in old useless thoughts of how the world might have been. The possible glories that Apocalypse had offered to the mutant race had been flushed down the proverbial drain, destroyed by human and mutant alike.

She had let the sands of Egypt swallow her in the dark days after her dreams had been ruined, wandering in the desert until the sun’s relentless rays had finally awakened her to herself once more. The Jungles of Borneo had beckoned and she’d gone, soaking up the wet heat, licking her wounds and gathering her strength to her once again.

Not that she had appreciated Apocalypse’ methods...or that she hadn’t been consulted about her part in the demigod’s rise. She had expected to stand at the right hand of power, directing, not simply defending...without will to decide on her own what she would or would not do. She didn’t like being used...not even by a near god. One that had failed his destiny, leaving her desolate with her own sense of lose and personal defeat.

Her brooding turned a personal direction, towards allies and enemies alike.

Betrayed. She’d been betrayed by them all.

Magneto, whom she’d given her allegiance to once. But he had treated her like nothing more than an instrument for his own dreams instead of the partner in power she had expected from him.
A smile pulled at her lips at the thought of him being used just as she had been, a tool of Apocalypse...a fitting punishment for arrogance and pride. Then there had been Ororo Munroe, Storm the weather witch and her mentor Charles Xavier who had faired no better pitting their puny talents against the might of Apocalypse.

Her own team, The Brotherhood had sided against her in the end, Lance who thought only with his cock, chasing after little Kitty Pryde’s cunt.

Hadn’t she rescued Wanda from the hell hole of that mental ward? And all the thanks she had gotten was betrayal.

Then there was Todd and Fred, boys too easily swayed, lead by their noses by Lance...and Pietro...who had never really been one of hers, too much his father’s son.

Mystique shifted in her seat and stared out the window, seeing nothing but darkness, the clouds not even defined in the black of night. Even in first class, the seating restricted her. The tight black dress she wore looked now like a business suit, she the appearance of a corporate lackey returning from some Asian assignment, important to no one but her company, yet acting as if the world revolved around her because of some high position.

This new persona would get her back into the States with a perfect passport forged by the best in Singapore. What she did next, Mystique had no specific plan yet. She needed to find some place to think, to direct her next foray towards a world more to her liking.

Yet brooding memories returned, of her own adoptive daughter striking the final blow to end the rise of mutant kind through the gift of Apocalypse.

Oh Rogue, I tried so hard, tried to have you raised to meet the destiny meant for you...but even you turned against me...turned from the greater good all mutant kind would have reaped.

The bitter taste of defeat and betrayal lingered on Mystique’s tongue. Nothing seemed to wash it away though she had been trying for months.

A memory struck her like a blow to the face, of her reaching out to her children, one adopted...one her own flesh and blood and they had turned from her with spite and anger and their own bitter resentment.

Her own flesh and blood child had betrayed her, fighting against her time and time again...yet could she blame him?

Closing her eyes, Mystique’s memories reeled back in time, reliving that loss, reliving the horror of finding out what Magneto had done to her son...and had still intended to do.

She had ran, for there had been no other choice. The boy would have been better off dead than allowed to remain in Magneto’s hands.

She had lost him to the river...then to her own desire to pursue a life not conducive to raising a child. She had never really forgiven Magneto for what he’d done...to her...to the child. Yet she’d stayed with him for Magneto had offered power and power was what Mystique craved more than life....more than her son.

And again that dream had been dashed...by a bunch of children and that blasted Logan.

God! She hated him. So many times he’d interfered in her plans, as a part of Team X and now as an X-Man. He’d been a bane in her life from the first time they’d crossed paths so many years ago. This time, he’d lead a bunch of half grown kids and some nuisance humans in destroying her dream of mutant domination over this world.

And how those children worshipped him. She knew his past...knew the many people he’d killed, for whatever cause he and his government keepers deemed just, long before he’d had the adamantium skeleton imposed on him ...or those deadly claws of his...or had lost parts of his memory to mind wiping. Logan was little more than an animal in her thinking, yet mutants had followed him into battle, had risked life and limb because he had said to do so.

A scream of rage tried to work its way up and out of Mystique’s mouth and she clamped down on her righteous anger.

Stop thinking! Stop remembering!

Mystique took a long deep breath, held it in then slowly let the breath out, calming her fury. She felt her body relax and when the steward came around with a row of small bottles of alcoholic beverages, she chose a Bloody Mary, sipping the mixture of tomato juice and vodka just to quiet her nerves.

Her plane finally landed at La Giardia and she gathered her carry on, her only luggage, endured Customs and headed for the row of rental car companies, using a fake credit card to acquire one of the more luxurious vehicles available. When she was ready, she’d dump it somewhere and let the company figure out where they’d gone so terribly wrong and where this non-existent woman had disappeared to.

Heading north, the night sky beckoned her on. With the punch of a button, she found a jazz station and let the sound of mellow sax surround her, easing some of her emotional pain.

Yes, Bayville was as good a place as any to start, a place to find her bearings again and look forward to a future she would manipulate. Perhaps her Brotherhood would repent and join her once again in her pursuits. Perhaps they weren’t completely lost to her. She’d soon find out.

*******************

Pietro glanced around the Brotherhood house, disgust rising at the mess the place was in.

Wanda’s gone to see Father for three days and the house turns into a pig sty. Why exactly was it that the house only looked halfway decent when there was a woman around?

He shook his head and gave up caring. Rummaging in the refrigerator, Pietro tried to find something to eat for breakfast. He offered the offending appliance a sneer and slammed the door closed.

“Somebody needs to grocery shop...like maybe the woman of the house?” he grumbled under his breath.

“Don’t let, sugarcakes hear you say that,” Todd offered, hopping into the kitchen and stretching where he stood. “She’ll throw you into a tree or something.”

“Don’t let Wanda hear you call her sugarcakes,” Pietro replied. “Or she’s likely to turn you into a toad permanently.

A startled expression crossed Todd’s face, his little mind obviously trying to process the statement. “She can’t really do that...can she?”

Pietro gave a laugh. “The limits of what my dear sister can do have yet to be determined.”

“Aw...but she is my sugarcakes. I’m head over heels for her.”

“You’ll be head over heels if you’re not careful with her. You know her temper.”

Todd reached into the fridge and pulled out the last of the orange juice, drinking it right from the carton.

Pietro made a mental note to buy the individual packs. The last thing he wanted to do was drink after Todd the Toad. Of course, he could go live with his father. But his father was pretty morose at the moment. The Apocalypse thing had really gotten to the old man.

Yeah, Father dearest, finding out you’re not the most powerful mutant in the universe was a big blow, but do you have to take it so hard? Come on! Get over it. Let’s move on.

With a yawn, he continued to stalk the kitchen cabinets and found an unopened Pop Tart box. Cherry. He could live with that. He took a seat at the kitchen table and gazed out the window at the Saturday morning rolling out before him, bright blue May skies and still a chill in the air.

Things could be worse.

A dark blue Lexus pulled up outside, parking on the street and a beautiful woman with flowing black hair climbed out dressed in a suit. Shades hid her eyes, yet there was something familiar in her walk and the way she carried herself.

A sudden foreboding latched onto Pietro’s heart and he thought about disappearing...yet something kept him there. Curiosity? Perhaps or maybe he simply didn’t care anymore. If he could live with his sister’s erratic behavior, he could deal with just about anything.

The second floor shook and the ceiling creaked. Fred was up and moving it seemed. Maybe just in time for whatever the lady was selling.

The doorbell rang and Pietro heard Todd answering. He listened closely then a high pitched shriek sounded.

Pietro gave a sigh and zipped over to the kitchen door leading into the living room. He leaned on the door frame and watched Todd cower on the floor before Mystique.

“I had a feeling it was you,” Pietro stated. “Finished licking your wounds? Felt like you’d done enough damage for one millennium?”

“Shut up,” she replied and slammed the door behind her. “And you.” She pointed a finger at Todd. “Get up and stop sniveling.”

“You’re not here to kill us all?” Todd asked, pushing to his knees and getting to his feet. He still cringed away from her like Mystique was the walking dead.

Maybe she was in a way. All that had come before seemed dead and over. Everything had changed and Pietro wasn’t at all sure he liked it. The world had gotten boring for his tastes lately.

“Kill you?” she said in a low melodic tone. “Don’t be an imbecile. This is my house. I own it.”

“So...what? You want it back?” Pietro asked.

“Not really,” she replied turning her yellow gaze on Pietro. “How’s your dear father these days, Pietro? Has he recovered from his ego blow yet?”

“Have you recovered from yours?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, but Pietro played it nonchalant, keeping his manner unaffected by her steely gaze.

“Why?” she asked. “Why did you and the others fight against Apocalypse? He would have made the world a place empty of human prejudice. A paradise.”

“Ruled by some crazy Egyptian guy? Right? Paradise. Why do I have trouble imagining that?”

“Because you have no imagination,” she spat back at him.

“Look, Mystique. From what I heard not everyone would have made it through this glorious transition to mutant kind. And I know I’m not the most caring guy in the world, but even I have a problem with millions of people dying just because some nutcase thinks he has the right to change the whole fucking world to his liking.”

“Sacrifices must be made for a greater cause. But now...the dream is over. Now you and every other mutant will live with the hatred and prejudice of mere humans. Until somebody does something to change that, we’re the ones who will suffer at human hands. Think about that, Pietro Maximoff. And live with that.”

“What the hell are you doing back?” a voice sounded from the stairway.

Pietro glanced over and there stood Lance, halfway up in nothing more than sweat pants.

“What the hell do you want, Mystique?” Lance demanded, stalking down the stairs to meet her eye to eye.

“As I recall this is my house, Mr Alvers,” Mystique said, getting into his face. “You live here at my whim...or did you think I’d never come back and you’d just keep it for yourself?”

Lance pulled back. “Okay. Fine. You want us to leave? No problem. You can have your lousy house as far as I’m concerned.”

“Now. Now. Don’t be hasty,” Mystique replied, her tone turning soothing. She reached out and ran a finger down Lance’s cheek “I just think you need to remember who you are talking to.”

“Oh, I remember,” Lance stated, jerking away from her touch. “Who could forget?”

She pushed by them and headed for a chair, shoving days old papers and pizza boxes aside. Making herself comfortable, Mystique glanced up at them with a little wicked smile.

“So tell me, boys, what’s been happening? Anything of interest?”

A smirk pulled at Pietro’s mouth. Should he tell her now...or wait for a more opportune time?

Lance flung him a glance, a little shake of the head following.

Yeah, he’d have to be the one. Lance was too Kitty whipped to tell her. But then, maybe she wouldn’t care. He was going to enjoy finding out.

Todd gave a little squeak. “I’m outta here. I don’t want nothin’ to do with any of this.” With a quick hop up the stairs, Todd disappeared. Pietro heard him talking to Fred. “Don’t go down there unless you want to see her explode.”

Pietro suppressed a laugh.

“Pietro,” Lance said under his breath, his tone one of warning.

With a quick zip, Pietro stood behind Mystique’s chair. “But the lady asked about the latest news, Lancy baby. We owe it to her to tell her all the juicy gossip.”

“What are you talking about?” Mystique demanded. She turned in her chair and grabbed hold of Pietro’s shirt. “Tell me what? I’m not interested in gossip, I’m interested in facts.”

Pulling free, Pietro zipped around to face her. “But it’s not gossip...is it, Lance?”

“I’m not getting involved in this, Maximoff. The kid’s been through enough without you siccing her on him. We haven’t had any trouble with the X-Men lately and I don’t intend to get into trouble with them right now.”

“Cause pretty little Kitty cat won’t like it?”

“You little prick,” Lance said through gritted teeth, hands balling into fists. “I oughta----”

“What are you two babbling about?!” Mystique shouted.

“What we’re talking about, Mommy Mystique,” Pietro said in his most irritating tone. “Is your little fuzzy blue baby boy.” Pietro watched Mystique’s eyes turned hooded, her expression closed off from her thoughts. “He’s seriously involved...romantically.”

She offered Pietro a confused yet wary glance. “So? He was dating that little dark haired girl last I recall. I don’t see how that significantly affects me.”

“Oh, he’s seeing someone else now.”

“So he’s moved onto some other girlfriend,” Mystique replied with a dismissive wave. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Lance leaned back against the wall with a huffing sigh and crossed his arms against his chest.

“Well, you see, Mystique,” Pietro said, drawing out his words. “Fuzzy boy has a new boyfriend...not girlfriend.”

Mystique’s gaze went distant and Pietro wondered what she was thinking. Maybe she wouldn’t care after all. Not like she ever really seemed to care about Kurt. Yet, Pietro still held the ace in this game.

“You’re saying you think Kurt is gay?” she asked in a neutral tone, her gaze focusing on Pietro again.

“I’m saying that he’s turning his ass up for another guy,” Pietro stated, being deliberately crass. “Yeah, for a fact, your baby boy is a fagging, cock sucking queer.”

“God!” Lance burst out. “You are low, Pietro, but I didn’t realize just how low.”

Pietro gave Lance a malicious, smirking glance. About time some fireworks went off around here. “Not like you never gave fuzzball a hard time. And ya know? I haven’t even gotten started, buddy.”

Mystique rose from her chair and paced the length of the room and back, kicking garbage from her path. She stopped before Pietro and pointed a finger at him. “There’s more to this than you’ve said, isn’t there? You know well enough, I’ve no interest in anybody’s sexual orientation...even my son’s.”

“Even if the man he’s letting fuck him is none other than Logan?”

That got a start out of her, Mystique’s eyes widening and she staggered back as if she’d been struck. “Liar!” she shouted. “Why are telling me these lies?!”

Pietro’s smile broadened. “Can’t take it, huh, Mystique? Yeah, one of your favorite people in the whole wide world. You’re little boy is just a pretty play thing for Wolverine to use whenever his cock needs satisfying.”

“Shut up!” Mystique screeched in his face. “How dare you say such things?!”

Pietro put up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Pietro saw Lance shove away from the wall and stalk towards them. “Look, Mystique. It’s not like that. Kurt and Logan are in love. Pietro’s just trying to get a rise out of you. He’s bored and he’s manipulating you cause he wants to cause trouble around here.”

“Let’s get something straight now, Mr Alvers. Nobody manipulates me.” Mystique poked her finger into Lance’s chest, her nail puncturing the skin right below his collar bone. “And Logan does not get to use my son for his base needs...not without unleashing my fury.”

Lance stepped back, hands up in his own defense. He flung Pietro a glare. “Now you’ve done it. You’ll have Logan down on us all over this.”

Mystique reached out and grabbed Lance by the shirt front. “You will tell no one that I’m back, do you hear me?” Mystique’s face was close to Lance’s and with a finger pointed at Pietro, she said in an ominous tone. “That includes you...and the others upstairs. No one is to know I’m back until I announce myself.” She turned her attention back to Lance. “And if I find out you told that little Kitty Pryde or any of those other X-Men before I’m ready to reveal my presence, I’ll have your head on a spike.”