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Frostbitten	By : fuzzybluelogic Category: X-men Comics > General Views: 2223 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Bobby's grip on his wrists was like
iron, and he moved like a warrior, knowing how to exactly to keep
someone flat on their back, prone and helpless. The man who once wore
the “X” and was called Iceman, even had Kurt's legs
firmly pinned, using his greater weight and positioning of his thighs
to keep the smaller mutant from kicking free.

Plus, he was still very weak from the
teleportation.

He'd never met Bobby, at least that he
could lucidly remember, and while he knew that he was trained in the
way that all X-Men were, no one had ever bragged about the bad assery
of Robert Drake's fighting skills.

It seems that in his eighty-five years
of exile to this hellish world, he'd picked some up.

But, he'd never personally witnessed
Iceman in battle.

And, of course, Bobby had never
witnessed him.

The haze of madness in Bobby's eyes
only barely tempered the rising rage that started to twist in his
gut.

His injuries had been ...intimate.

“Bobby, please...” Kurt
pleaded, his accent thickening and his tone bordering on a whimper,
“Please...”

“Please? Please what? Tell me...”
Bobby's lips brushed Kurt's, his blue eyes almost feral, “You
think I don't know you...”

“Don't...don't...” Kurt's
lips trembled and he feebly struggled beneath Bobby's weight.

“Don't what?” Bobby's smile
was darkening, “Don't wha--”

Bobby gasped...just before his eyes
rolled back. He collapsed in a convulsing heap on top of Kurt, who
quickly rolled out from beneath him, as the tasor pressed against the
back of Bobby's neck rendered him unconscious.

“Don't notice my tail.”
Kurt said, pushing himself up and hold out his hand. His spade
dropped the tasor into his palm, which he tucked back into the slot
on his belt.

Aaand just to make sure that Bobby
didn't wake up cranky and wanting to turn Kurt into a permanent icy
lawn ornament, he opened up his small med-kit and pulled out a tiny
pressure syringe.

“Sorry about this.” Kurt
pressed the syringe against Bobby's throat. It hissed as the
tranquilizer injected his content, a Hank McCoy designed drug that
would keep him sedated, but relatively lucid, upon revival. And with
a nice side effect of repressing mutant powers for a few hours.

“Don't worry,” Kurt said,
arranging Bobby's body – and handcuffing his wrists behind his
back -- and resting his head on his folded camp blanket. “This
isn't my first time with an Omega who's gone mad. Let's see if we can
avoid some of that nastiness, ja?”

While Bobby was otherwise occupied
studying the inside of his eyelid, Kurt searched through his things.
He found unmarked bottles of assorted potions and elixirs, a goodly
amount of gold coins, and a single key.

Kurt frowned as he turned it over in
his hand. It looked as if it was craft from blue-black crystal,
speckled with gold and purple flecks, it felt heavy, much heavier
than it looked. But what disturbed him was the lock of hair tied to
it with a black velvet ribbon.

It was a single curl of black hair. Or
hair that looked black until he shined his flashlight on it,
revealing the true color of very dark blue.

His hair.

He looked back over his shoulder at
Bobby.

The key glowed in his palm...and he
remembered.

The ice...the ice stole his senses, and
when he awoke, he was somewhere else, somewhere dark.

He'd been staggering through an empty
street, exhausted...lost. Water pooled in the broken cobblestone
beneath dark street lamps, and the legs of his trousers were soaked
as from the splashing as he ran from unseen pursuers, too tired and
too disoriented to teleport.

He could only run, and then
stumble along.

The wet stone bit sharply into his knees before
rushing up to bruise his cheek.

And then nothing but
black.

Somewhere, a fire popped and crackled.

He
could feel the warmth, it was the first thing he felt, leeching the
chill from his flesh, bringing back sensation, and...

His arms
ached.

The soothing warmth was becoming too warm, making him
sweat. He could feel the perspiration trickling down his back and
legs.

His bare legs.

His arms were above him,
and as awareness returned, so did the realization of being chained,
nude, his toes barely touching the floor beneath him as he twisted
slowly from his shackles.

Kurt's throat went dry with rising
panic.

Even his tail was weighted.

He squeezed his
eyes even more tightly shut, afraid of what sight would reveal. He
could hear the crackling fire. Sudden visions of every movie and book
he'd ever read about the Inquisition and torture involving hot irons
flashed through his mind.

He steadied his breath, as soon as
he could rest a bit, he could teleport away, he just needed to buy
time.

Kurt opened his eyes.

A man with fine white
blond hair tied back with velvet ribbon, stood with his back to Kurt,
facing the fire, a crystal chalice of dark wine in his hand. The
man's shirt was of fine lawn, torn in places, dampened with sweat.
Only part of his face was visible, a pale cheek spotted with -- Sweet
Jesu, was that blood? -- something dark and smeared, the rest
of his face was hidden in the shadows cast by the fire.

Kurt
flexed what muscles he could, he felt uninjured, save sore
shoulders and an aching in his arms and legs from the uncomfortable
position. The blood on that man's cheek, it wasn't his...was
it?

“I didn't rape you.”
Bobby's voice, weak and dry, snapped Kurt from his reverie.

“I know.” Kurt said
quietly. “We were lovers.”

“Yes.”

“After you used your magic to
read my thoughts, and remembered who you were.” Kurt didn't
turn around, just stood there, turning the key over and over in his
hands. “But you did beat me, before.”

And after. But that was ...

He couldn't afford to think about
anything but getting them both home right now.

“Yes...but, after I hid that
piece of me that was me, inside you...and I sent you back.
I've been getting worse.”

Kurt finally looked back at him, face
void of expression, “I don't remember everything...just, some.”

“I knew you'd come back, and I've
spent the past decade trying to get ready. It wasn't safe then, and I
had to get you away from here, before anyone knew you were here. And
I had to protect what little sanity you gave back to me.” Bobby
closed his eyes and swallowed hard, “I forgot about your tail.”

“Everyone does.” Kurt
allowed a smile to tug at th corner of his mouth. “Lucky for
me.”

“And me. I didn't want to hurt
you...in that way. In any way.”

“We both know that's not entirely
true, jah?” Kurt knelt next to Bobby and looked down at him,
expression finally softening.

“yeah, we both know.”

Crack.

Kurt's head snapped up. “Someone's
coming.”
- 10
- 11
- 12
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Frostbitten