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Disclaimer. The X-Men and any recognizable characters belong to
Marvel, Siku is darqstar's, anyone else is mine. Ask first if you want to
borrow 'em. I'm not making any money off of this, so don't waste your time,
or mine, suing OK? You wouldn't get anything anyway, I'm flat broke.
  ~words~ depicts psychic talk
*words* denotes thinking to oneself

Note: Unfortunately Carma can no long beta for me :-(. Luckily for me
though the following wonderful people have agreed to be my new vic ..... uh
... I mean beta's. Many thanks to Crow, Cosmic, Beth, Thren, Maria Cline,
Lady Arakne, and Nat. Oh, and they also went over the first three parts and
helped a little bit there. Aren't they just the best?!!
        WARNING: Descriptions of some very cruel things done to a child. This
may earn a PG-13 rating. Discretion is advised.
  Now that that's out of the way.... on with the story

Revelations: Chapter 4 

    Gambit walked silently down the sunlit street reviewing the events of the past few months in his head, particularly the ones from earlier that morning. She had dropped him. Sure she had originally caught him, stopping him from falling about twenty feet to the ground, which could have caused some serious injuries, but when they were still about six feet up she dropped him. The fall had hurt, but not physically. Gambit's thoughts where disrupted when a sandy haired boy ran full into him, nearly knocking them both to the ground.
        "Hey, where's de fire?" Gambit asked chuckling.
        The boy looked up at Gambit, his face flush with excitement. "Sorry mister. Me and my brothers are playin'."
        "What you playin' dat you be runnin' so fast?"
        "Mutants," The little boy replied.
        Gambit felt himself getting angry. *Dis is what we fighting for. So people can teach dere kids ta hate mutants.*
        The boy didn't notice the anger in Gambit's face. His voice was filled with excitement as he spoke. "It's really fun. I made it up." He said proudly. "It's kinda like Cops and Robbers I guess." He admitted. He happily
explained the basics of the game. "I'm a mutant, I'm always a mutant cuz I invented the game, and my little brother is one to, and my two older brothers are in the FOH and we're chasin' them cuz they were real mean to a mutant and they attacked him, and so we're gonna put 'em in jail." The boy finished breathlessly. The details of his current adventure coming out as one long sentence.
        The anger Gambit felt was replaced by surprise as he listened to the little boy talk. "You not afraid of mutants?" He asked skeptically. "You're parents know you play dis game?"
        "Na, we ain't afraid. Our parents know we play. They always tell us that mutants are people too, and we shouldn't judge people or hate them just cuz they're different." The boy suddenly looked a little ashamed. "They also said we shouldn't talk to strangers." He was quiet for a second, then said "My name's Shaun. What's yours?"
        "Remy ."
        "I guess we're not strangers any more." The boy said smiling. Then he looked at Gambit suspiciously. "Are you a mutant?"
        Gambit was silent for a second then kneeled in front of Shaun and took off his glasses.
        "Wow, cool." The boy whispered.
        "Are you a mutant?" he asked the boy.
        "No," he said. Then leaning towards Gambit he whispered even lower, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. "Sometimes though, I wish I was. I'd love to have eyes like yours." He returned his voice to normal. "I gotta go now, mister. My brothers are gonna think I got lost or something"
        Gambit realized he was still holding the boy's shoulders and let him go. "T'ank you," he said.
        The boy looked at him with a puzzled expression. "For what?" he asked.
        "For giving me back somet'ing I t'ought I los'. Gambit watched as the boy looked up at him, and for a second it looked like the boy knew what he was talking about. Then the boy smiled and ran off.
        "Bye mister," he called, waving as he ran down the street.
        Gambit smiled as he watched the boy disappear around a corner. Without knowing it, the little boy had giving Gambit a special gift. He had given him back his hope. He had thought he'd lost the last of it when he told
the X-Men his secret. When he had joined the X-Men, he'd thought Xavier's dream was foolish; that it could never come true. But Ororo believed, so he stayed. He told himself that was the only reason he stayed, but a small part of him, a part he revealed to no one and refused to acknowledge himself, wanted desperately to believe it could happen. Now he found himself opening up to that long buried part. He would fight for Xavier's dream now, for now it had become his dream too. With renewed hope he walked back to the mansion. To his home, his family, things he thought he would never have again. He would fight to win back their loyalty, and he would never let them down again.
        xxxxxxxxxx Two Days Later xxxxxxxxxxx
        Like a few days earlier, Gambit was once again awakened by a thunderous knocking at his door. He looked at his alarm clock. 8:16am showed in bright letters. He knew there was no training session scheduled for this morning and was curious as to why he was being awakened so early.
        "Come in," he mumbled from under his pillow.
        He was surprised when Scott walked in. No, he had that look on his face, the one he wore only when there was trouble. Right now he wasn't Scott he was Cyclops leader of the X-Men. His visor hid the urgency in his eyes, but not in his voice.
        "Be in uniform and in the war room in ten minutes." Scott's voice was somber as he spoke. "There's serious trouble." Scott turned to leave but stopped at the sound of Gambit's voice.
        "Wha's going on? Where de others?" he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. It was clear Cyclops intended to bring him on a mission.
        There was an edge in Cyclops' voice when he spoke again, his patience obviously wearing thin. "The FOH is causing trouble again," was his vague reply. He looked at Gambit's alarm clock. "Eight minutes." Without another word, Scott walked out of Gambit's room, shutting the door behind him.
        xxxxxxxxx The War Room seven minutes later xxxxxxxxx
        Gambit put his hand on the door knob and hesitated, looking down at the uniform he hadn't worn outside the Danger Room in nearly five months. He took a deep breath, then turned the knob and entered the War Room.
        There was only four other X-Men in the room: Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine and Storm. He noticed Jean was the only one not in uniform. *Where de others,* he thought to himself.
        As if to answer Gambit's unasked question, Cyclops spoke.
        "At aproximately one o'clock this morning, the Professor recieved and urgent message from an old friend of his who is now the senator of Pennsylvania. Senator Williams expressed great concern that the FOH may be
growing stronger there. They have had six unprovoked attacks on mutants in less than two days. The Professor called Warren at his home and asked Warren to accompany him. He also took Rogue, Bobby, and Hank. The Professor called an hour ago to say they where getting the situation under control. He and Hank will remain behind while the others will leave in a few hours to return home. They should be here around noon. Unfortunately we can't wait that long. Fifteen minutes ago I recieved a message from Havok.
    As you know, the FOH has become more vocal and violent in recent months. They plan to hold a rally in Central Park today and the NYPD suspects there may be trouble, since the FOH specificaly requested that no news coverage be allowed, and has asked X-Factor for help. Unfortunately X-Factor, as well as The Fantastic Four and the Avengers are unavailable at this time. Havok asked if we could attend. I said yes, and he patched me through to Police Commissioner Rawlings. He has made it quite clear we are a last resort, so watch your P's and Q's, people."
        *Dat figures,* Gambit thought bitterly to himself. *Dey only call 'cuz de t'ink mutants will attack or dat der will be a riot an' dey can' get no one else to help 'em. A necesary evil.* The last thought made him angry. He forced himself to remain calm and listen to the rest of what Cyclops said.
        Cyclops finished briefing them a few minutes later. "Jean will remain here to let the others know exactly what's going on, to send them to Central Park if we need them, and to look after Siku. Let's go." Cyclops gave Jean a passionate kiss and a quick hug then left the room, followed by the others. They all knew the main reason Jean was not going was the baby. Since it was a potentially dangerous situation, neither Scott nor Jean was willing to put their unborn child's life at risk. No one objected.
        xxxxxxxx Central Park ten am xxxxxxxx
        Cyclops stared at the platform as five members of the FOH stepped onto it. One man wore a business suit; his hair was cut short and his overall appearance was neat. He gave the impression of being a very intelligent man. The other four wore clean dark blue jeans and white sweatshirts with the FOH logo on them. The man in the suit was white as were two of the others. The remaining two where black. Four of them appeared to be around thirty to thirty-five; one of the black men had graying hair that gave him a distinguished look. Cyclops figured him to be around fifty. The first man's appearance made Cyclops wonder how he'd gotten mixed up in with a group like the FOH. Did he have that much hate in him, or was he persuaded by others to believe in the FOH? He didn't look like the kind of person who could be swayed into believing such ignorance.
        *Why not?* he thought to himself. *What do those kind of people look like?* He knew there was no answer for that question. Many people where fooled into believing the FOH, giving into their fears rather than listening to their rational side. *Why should this man be any different just because he wears an expensive suit?*
        It was chilly even for a late September day. Cyclops couldn't help but wonder if Storm might have had a hand in that. He was glad he had worn his bomber jacket over his uniform. The uniforms they wore were somewhat insulated so he didn't really need the jacket for warmth. He simply wore it because he liked it. When Cyclops had talked to the commissioner, they agreed it would be best if the X-Men wore civilian clothes over their uniforms, only revealing them if absolutely necessary.  Instead of wearing the civilian clothes, however, they wore image inducers, giving them the appearance of wearing normal clothes.
        Cyclops clenched his jaw tight as the man in the business suit approached the podium and began to speak. He didn't know exactly what the man was going to say, but he had a pretty good idea.
        "Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the law abiding normal people of this country to get together and force Congress and the President to do something about this mutant menace." A chorus of cheers mixed with a few
jeers and hisses rippled through the crowd. "These freaks of nature are growing in number and their powers are getting more and more dangerous. They represent a clear and present danger to all normal people. They use their
powers for their own gain with no regard for others' lives or property. They must be controlled." The man practically yelled, slamming his fist on the podium. Another round of cheers swept through the crowd, louder than before, drowning out the jeers. The man smiled evilly, obviously getting the reaction he'd been looking for.
        Cyclops felt his jaw clench tighter as the man spoke on. He knew the others were as angry as he was. As the rally wore on, the speakers changed, but their message did not. They simply stated what the men before them did, throwing in personal horror stories of mutant attacks, most of which Cyclops was sure were lies thrown in for effect. He kept his face neutral, careful not to let his anger show. He kept his attention focused on the newest
speaker, but let his thoughts drift to his pregnant wife, careful to shield them so she couldn't accidentally overhear them. He didn't want her to know how unsure he was of the fact that he would be bringing another child into this world.
    In about six months their child would be born. *Are we making a mistake?* It was a question he'd asked himself a million times in the week sense Jean had told him she was pregnant. *It's very likely this baby will be a mutant. What right do we have bringing this child into a world that will hate and fear him or her simply because he or she is different? A world where he or she would be hunted like an animal, maybe even killed because of those differences?* And then he had the basic fears most men have when they learn they will be a father. *Will I be a good father? Will I be there when he or she needs me?*  He also had fears that history would repeat itself. *Will Sinister, or Apocalypse take this baby from me like they did Nathan?* His thoughts where interrupted as he saw Wolverine approach him. He turned and faced the shorter man. The Canadian's face was grim.
        "There's gonna be trouble, Cyke," he whispered "I can feel it."
        "Yeah. I think you're right." The crowd had grown sinse the rally had started. While the amount of cheers had increased, so had the jeers. The tension was growing; people exchanged hateful glares. "All we can do for now is wait and hope there won't be any trouble." As Cyclops said it, he knew there was little chance the rally would end peacefully. Nothing the FOH did was ever done in a peaceful manner.
        *Ain't a snowball's chance in hell this thing's gonna end without some kinda showdown,* Wolverine thought to himself as he walked back to his position. But he knew Cyclops was right. The X-Men could not initiate a
confrontation. They would have to wait and see how it played out. That knowledge bugged Wolverine more than almost anything else. Patience was not one of his virtues.
        The rally ended at one o'clock. As the people slowly gathered the blankets they'd been sitting on, Cyclops found himself thinking he and Wolverine may have been wrong. That hope was quickly dashed as a man pushed
his way through the crowd, clutching a large manilla envelope tightly in his right hand. His clothes were neat and clean, but his face was haggard. Dark circles under his eyes revealed that he likely hadn't slept much, if at all
recently. The thick stubble on his face showed he also hadn't seen a razor recently, or made any attempt at grooming the beard. His hair was also disheveled, as if he was constantly running his fingers though it. He stopped about fifteen feet from the podium, right in the middle of the crowd, anger burning clearly in his eyes.
        "What gives you the right?" He asked angrily. "Who died and made you God? You stand there preaching about this so-called mutant menace like you know what's best for everyone. Like you have a right to impose your twisted view of normal on everyone. You say mutants aren't normal, not human, and they don't deserve the rights guaranteed to all people by the Constitution. You say they should be locked away in camps. Like the Nazis kept the Jews in during World War Two, maybe?" The man turned to the two black speakers, focusing his attention on the older man. "You say they should be forced to do manual labor to repay humanity for their crimes. Kinda like the blacks who were kept as slaves, then later forced to work jobs for far less then they
should have been paid."
        The man paused again, letting his words sink in not only to the two men, but the people in the crowd as well, many of whom were black, and old enough to have witnessed the horrors of the aftermath of slavery and
segregation. He turned back to the main speaker and spoke again. "You also say that all mutants should be sterilized so they can never have children, so eventually there will be no more mutants. Well, I got a news flash for you, you ignorant prejudiced bastards. Let me introduce myself. My name is Joshua Lee Calvin. I'm a twenty-six year old computer programer. I'm not a mutant, and neither is my wife, Elaine." Joshua stopped talking again and opened the envelope, pulling out a picture and holding it up for the FOH men and the crowd to see. Cyclops stared at the photo, which he assumed was of the man's daughter. She was a beautiful child with light brown hair and the brightest blue eyes Cyclops has ever seen. She appeared to be about five years old. She looked like any other little girl with one exception, she had beautiful blue, green and red wings on her back.
        "This was my daughter, Sarah. She was a mutant. She was only four and a half years old." Cyclops and the others couldn't help but notice the man spoke of her in the past tense. The girl was obviously dead, her life taken
from her before she really had a chance to live it. That tragedy would explain the man's actions and his anger. Cyclops balled his fists tightly until his hands hurt, his jaw tightening as he listened to the man talk about
his little girl. He looked to the faces of his teammates. Their anger was as apparent as his own. Wolverine was rubbing his knuckles, something he did when waiting for the opportunity to unsheathe his deadly claws, and he wore an angry scowl on his face. It was one Cyclops had seen on him too many times before. Storm's face was less readable, only her eyes betraying the anger she felt. The temperature had dropped more, another sign of her anger.
    Cyclops was slightly surprised as he looked at Gambit. The Cajun had removed his glasses, something he rarely did in public. His eyes seemed to be glowing with anger; he held his hands in tight fists by his sides. Gambit
realized Cyclops was watching him, and why, and quickly put his glasses back on. *I guess I shouldn't be surprised,* Cyclops thought to himself, remembering how Storm had told them how Gambit had taken her in and cared for her when the Nanny had stuck her the body of a child. He was also very close to Siku. The Cajun seemed to have a soft spot for kids. He turned his full attention back to Joshua.
        "So, you see, she was no threat to anyone. Her only mutation was her beautiful wings. They took them away from my little Sarah before they killed her. Do you know why she's dead? She bumped into a little girl in her pre K class the day she died. She cried when she got home and told us that she apologized to the girl but the girl called her a freak and pushed her to floor." Joshua's voice became angrier as he recalled the last day he saw his child alive. "That girl's father was a member of the FOH."
        Joshua had been facing the crowd, but as he said the last sentence he turned and stared at the man in the suit; who was apparently one of the higher ups in the group. "Later that evening, she went outside to play with
our next door neighbor's children. I watched her go over and knock on the door. I watched the kids play for a few minutes and then went in the house. They played together every night. The oldest boy is eleven, so I wasn't
worried about them being out alone. He is a very responsible boy and always made sure my daughter and his younger sisters and brother stayed out of the street. That's when they grabbed her." Tears began to roll slowly down Joshua's face. He made no attempt to stop them as he continued on, his voice slightly shaky.
        "Matt ran to my house immediately and told me what happened. They were playing tag. Two men jumped out of the back of a van and grabbed Sarah. Matt tried to stop them but one man slammed his fist into the boy's face. A bruise was already evident when he came to my house. I immediately called the police and Matt told them what happened. They found her in a small field behind an abandoned building three miles from my home, pieces of her wings were scattered around her battered body. The doctor said she must have died a slow and painful death. You see, they not only killed her, but they tortured her, too. They used gardening shears, very dull gardening shears, to cut her wings, then slowly beat her to death. They did this to a little girl who was no more a menace to society then a newborn kitten, or puppy."
    "Two days later, I found out the father of the girl Sarah accidentally bumped into was one of the ones who grabbed her, and did most of the torture. Apparently the DA is a member of the FOH, or a least a supporter. The day the men where arrested, he dismissed the charges against the three men the police had arrested, siting insufficient evidence as the reason, even though Matt positively identified the two men who grabbed Sarah in a lineup. Two other witnesses stated they saw the van parked in the field at the time of her death. They also traced the registration of the van to a third man, who the police say was the driver." Joshua turned his attention back to the crowd.
        "How can you so blindly follow people, no ... monsters, who would do this to an innocent child?" He paused again, wiping the tears from his eyes, so full of pain it made many people in the crowd ask themselves that question. Cyclops noticed that many of them had tears in their own eyes, however, many of them also looked as if they though the men who attacked Sarah had done the public a favor, smug grins on there faces.
        "Six weeks ago I had a daughter. Six weeks ago I had a wife, but finding out that not only had our baby been murdered, but that her killers would never be brought to justice drove her over the edge. One week after Sarah's death, Elaine was committed to a mental institution. Six weeks ago I had a life. Now ... I have nothing." Joshua's hung his head low, his shoulders began shaking uncontrollably as the tears poured freely down his
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x   
    Wolverine rubbed his claws, a familiar urge to pop them out and put them to good use flooded through him. In his life he had been called many things; animal, killer, brutal, savage. Many people had fallen victim to his
berserker rages. But as he listened to the men on the stage, he wondered who the real animal was. He had never, would never, hurt a child like that. *Those scumbags have the nerve to call muntants monsters, a threat to
society, and then they do that to a kid. They're lower than the lowest scum on earth,* he thought to himself. *If I ever run into any of 'em alone, they'll regret the day they where born.*
 x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x           
        "We did you a favor, Mister Calvin," the man in the suit said. "Freaks like your daughter have no place among normal people." An evil sneer crossed the man's face.
        "You, filthy, murdering, SON OF A BITCH." Joshua yelled, his voice cracking with anger. "I'll kill you."
        He'd just begun to move when the man in the suit pulled out a gun and aimed it at Joshua. Cyclops was the first to react. He fired an optic blast at the gun, knocking it out of the man's hand, but not before he could fire.
Cyclops blast had moved the gun enough to keep the bullet from ripping through Joshua's heart, but not his arm. It caught him in his right shoulder, spinning the man around and knocking him to the ground.
        "Kill him and any other mutie in the crowd." The man in the suit yelled.
        And then all Hell broke loose.

OK, there's part 4.


Other Stories By Mickey


[Notes] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

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