10

“Yippee kai-yaay, motherfucker!” Marc cackled, for some reason quoting Die Hard as he cocked his sniper rifle and took aim once more. Marc was on top of the sex shop/bakery combo across the street (which seemed appropriate somehow), and had a high powered rifle full of enchanted bullets. Everybody on the roofs had guns with enchanted bullets - enchanted reluctantly by Giles - save for Bren, who had a compound hunting crossbow and a small quiver of arrows with runes sacred to the Gorgons drawn on them. Rags figured they’d work just the same, and possibly hurt even more.

Logan managed to get to his knees as Marc took his second shot, shearing Reshef’s right leg off below the shin, making him fall over. The opening shots belonged to Marc, mainly because it was known he and Logan and Pyro would be in close proximity, and Marc could be counted on to make precision shots that might unnerve the others. Marc had the confidence that he wouldn’t miss, and of course he didn’t.

“Dude, if I were you, I’d just play dead,” John told Reshef, who was growing back his head once more. His leg was coming in slower.

Logan was pretty sure he’d healed up, although he still felt logy. And looking at the big hunk of missing building, he could see why. He stood up with the help of what was left of the wall, and Helga took a shot that sheared off Reshef’s left arm from the elbow down.

“And you’re the good guys?” John asked sarcastically. Logan gave him an evil look in reply.

Reshef’s head had grown back, and he was glaring at him with bloody eyes. “You can annoy me all you wish, meat, but you can’t stop me.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Things ain’t lookin’ good for ya, man,” John agreed.

Reshef gave him a sharp glance, but otherwise ignored Pyro. “How many deaths do you want on your hands? Give me the boy.” With his leg and his arm grown back, he sat up and attempted to stand, but another bullet blew out his knee, and a crossbow bolt nailed his hand to the street.

It was the arrow that made him react. He yelped, and looked at the bolt like it was on fire. He yanked up his hand, pulling the bolt up with it, and made a swallowed noise of pain. “This is pointless,” he snarled, getting to his feet. Logan felt the surge of energy around him, exactly the feeling before Reshef teleported, and he imagined much if not all of Bob’s energy gathering in his fist before he plunged his arm deep in the dark energy of Reshef’s torso.

It was like sticking his hand in a whirlpool of liquid nitrogen. It fucking hurt, but in a strangely abstract way, like it was someone else’s nerves that were being frayed while the skin was turned into something beyond feeling, like stone or concrete. But he imagined Bob’s energy diffusing through Reshef’s darkness, and his bloody eyes bored into his, his scent as sickly sweet and rotten as decaying flesh. “You don’t go ‘til I say you go,” Logan told him, his voice gravelly with the god energy pulsing through his system.

“Really, meat?” Reshef then plunged his arm straight through his stomach - it seemed to cleave through flesh as deftly as a machete, and he felt the sharp pain and the dull throb of infectious heat deep inside his midsection. “Don’t you need a liver?”

Well, he definitely had a hold of something; Logan had no idea if he could feel his liver being squeezed. But he could feel both Bob’s energy and his healing factor responding to the threat, as blood poured out the wound and splashed on the pavement as Reshef continued to fondle his internal organs.

There was dull thunk, and Reshef reacted with pain, yanking his hand out of his gut (but he didn’t take anything else with, so presumably his liver was still intact) and reaching back to try and grab the arrow out of the back of his head. But Logan didn’t pull his hand out of Reshef’s torso, and Reshef’s movement was limited. It was then that Rags appeared, holding his mirror shield, still in mid-chant. “ - your servant, holy sifters -”

Reshef looked at him sharply, and Logan saw his horrified expression in Rags’s shield. “No! You’re not the one I want!”

There was a huge energy surge, and Logan went flying backwards, just nicking the building this time before hitting the pavement. Giles then threw the spell that Helga had unearthed, the one to annoy the gods, and it made him stay where he was as Rags finished the incantation and something started to materialize in the mirror. Logan lunged for Pyro, tackling him, making him exclaim, “What the fuck ..?!”

“Don’t look!” He snapped, pinning his head to the sidewalk with his forearm. It then occurred to him that he could have let Pyro look and therefore take care of any problems with him, but that seemed like a Pyro thing to do - a massive betrayal. And he didn’t generally stab people in the back. (He generally stabbed them in the front.) John tried to buck him off once, but Logan had too much adamantium in his body, and John gave up almost instantly, aware of the futility of the gesture.

The energy surge Logan felt now was like nothing he had ever felt before; it was beyond him and Reshef combined. It was the difference between a tidal wave and the explosion of a super massive black hole - at least the tidal wave was moderately restrained by gravity. This was an outpouring of energy that made the air crackle like it was bursting into flame, and he thought he heard Reshef scream before …

Nothing. There was that crescendo of energy, building up and swelling, bursting its seams and flying outward, and silence rushed in after it, filling it like air filled a vacuum. The overwhelming energy was just gone, vanished in the blink of an eye, like it never existed in the first place.

“Yer bleedin’ all over me!” John complained.

Logan looked up, back at where he had last seen Reshef. He was now a grey stone lawn jockey, arm raised as if to shield his eyes, cringing slightly, anticipating the blow. But it didn’t help, and he wasn’t able to transport himself away in time. Rags walked up to him and smashed the statue with the shield, causing it to crumble like a sand castle. “You don’t go after my protégé, wanker,” Rags snapped, kicking away some of the pebbles.

Logan sat back, looking down at his gut wound. It was still closing, but he couldn’t see his own internal organs anymore. John had pulled himself back up to his feet and was looking around in obvious distress. “What the fuck is going on here?!” he demanded.

That was a very good question. He wondered if he’d actually believe the truth.

****

In the end, Logan did something he knew he’d despise himself for: he pushed John again. He told him simply, “It was all mutants,” and made him believe that Reshef was a mutant turned to stone by another mutant who had the power to turn people to stone. Now he didn’t say it was Rags who had that power, but John seemed to be under the impression it was him who had it. “That explains the eyes, doesn’t it?” John said to Rags, who stared at him in pure bafflement. Rags asked “What the fuck’cha talkin’ about?” but John didn’t understand what he said - he simply nodded, like Rags had said something interesting. Wisely, Rags let it go.

But there was the problem of what they were going to do with John. Logan figured he could let him walk, because he had helped them and he wasn’t much for killing kids in cold blood, but Rogue was of the opinion that he should push John into being “decent again” if he wasn’t just going to kill him. For some reason, Logan didn’t like either option.

Rags decided that Bren had to do the ritual to become the agent of the Gorgons, if only to put an immediate end to some of this mess. But Logan suspected the real reason was something related to the fact that Rags was exhausted. Calling the gods clearly took it out of a person, and he wasn’t young or healthy anymore.

Rogue and John argued all the way back, about what Logan wasn’t sure, but Angel said something about hitting the sewers again. Logan followed him into his office, welcoming the privacy from all the others. “Wasn’t Reshef our big target?”

Angel nodded absentmindedly, looking for something in his desk drawer. “I’m sure, but there’s bound to be a couple of stragglers left. Once word gets out that the Gorgons took out a Horseman of the Apocalypse, I expect the rest to drift away.”

“Nothing sends a “don’t fuck with us” message like turning a god to stone.”

“Exactly.” He looked up at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

Angel raised his eyebrows slightly, as if he thought he was perhaps teasing him. “You going back to New York? Canada?”

He hadn’t actually thought about that yet. “I dunno. I was thinkin’ about sticking around here for a while, if you guys could use me.”

Angel scoffed, and tried very hard not to smile. “I’m sure we could find something for you to do.”

“Some light filing?” he suggested sarcastically.

“How many words can you type per minute?” Angel asked, completely deadpan.

It was then that they heard the scream.

Logan led the way out of the door, and it took a moment for him to process what he was seeing. The scream had come from Rogue, who was holding on to John’s arm like he had attempted to touch her and she had yanked his hand away. But they were frozen in place, and veins were now standing out in relief on John’s throat, creeping up his face like snakes.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed, grabbing Rogue’s arms (by the sleeves) and pulling her away. As soon as he broke their contact, John’s eyes rolled up inside his head and he hit the floor in a dead faint.

Xander had jumped up on the couch, looking between them in wide eyed horror. “What the fuck was that?”

Rogue was panting, wide eyed in horror herself. “It’s back,” she said, looking at Logan with pleading eyes. “How the hell is it back?”

“What’s back?” Xander asked, still alarmed, and making no move to get off the couch.

“Oh my god, it’s true,” Bren gasped.

They all looked at him. “What’s true?” Logan asked first.

“The cure wears off,” he explained. “There’s been rumors about it on some mutant boards I lurk on, that the cure just stops working after a while.” He sat down heavily in the chair behind his desk. “But everybody was saying it happened to a friend of a friend of theirs, which made it all sound like bullshit.”

“What d’ya mean it wears off?” Rogue demanded. “It’s supposed to be a cure, in like permanent!”

“It doesn’t change your DNA,” Sid said, sounding like he’d actually read up on this. “It simply suppresses the expression of some genes while it lasts. They jumped the gun by calling it an actual cure; it’s simply a temporary remedy. For now, there’s nothing that can rewrite your DNA in a harmless way.”

Rogue glared at him like he’d just betrayed her. “And you didn’t tell me this?”

Sid stared back at her guilelessly. “You didn’t ask.”

“So your power is what?” Xander asked. “Doing freaky things to people?”

“She takes their power and their life energy,” Marc told him dismissively. Xander seemed surprised by this information, and Logan wondered why. Hadn’t he seen enough strangeness in his life?

Rogue looked up at Logan meaningfully, and reached out to touch him before she remembered that she couldn’t, and tucked her hands under her arms. “Take it away.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant at first. “Huh?”

“Bob could do it, right? He could take my powers away permanently. Why don’t you?”

Oh holy crap.

11

Logan wasn’t surprised to find himself sitting poolside, although he was surprised to find himself holding a drink that seemed to have needless amounts of paper umbrellas and cubed fruit skewered on colorful straws. Logan grabbed a handful of them and tossed them aside, and the liquid amount in the glass seemed to reduce by half. “Nobody likes a smart ass, Bob,” he snapped. The sky was as deep and bright a blue as the water in the pool, and the lounge chair he was on. Also the swimming trunks he was wearing. Swim trunks? Well, knowing Bob, it could have been worse. Could have been a Speedo.

The water in the pool rippled, and Bob broke the surface. “Now what’s wrong with a Speedo?” he asked, smoothing his wet sun blond hair back. “I happen to like ‘em. There’s nothing like the feeling of a banana hammock.” He gave him a big shit eating grin as he climbed out of the pool, water sheeting him off him like he was made of sealskin, although his body had the general appearance of pure beefcake. He was wearing a Speedo all right, only it was one that he hoped didn’t exist in reality - it looked like fake leather, and man was it all sorts of disturbing.

“You and Marc work these bits out in advance, don’t ya?”

“Naw. He just has a great sense of humor.” He walked over to the green lounge chair across from him, his wet feet slapping on the Italian tiles lining the pool area, and he stretched out on the chair as languidly as a cat. Somehow he suddenly had a frou-frou drink in his hand. “So what’s the problem, mate?”

“Problem? Who says I have a problem?” Bob just raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay. I’m a hypocrite.”

“Why? ‘Cause you wouldn’t take Rogue’s power away? “

He glared at him. “If you know already, why the fuck did you ask?”

Bob grinned at him, flashing all those pearly whites. “That’s what I do. If nobody likes a smart ass, how come I’ve been married a zillion times?”

“Because you make people believe they love you.”

“Ouch. Now that hurts.” He sipped his drink, and then eyed it dubiously. “Too much pineapple.”

Logan slugged down what was left of his drink, and tossed the empty glass into the pool. “Are you ever gonna get serious, or do I storm off now?”

He sighed heavily. “Mate, you’re not a hypocrite. You’re her dad. You’ll support whatever she does, you’re pro-choice all the way, but you don’t want to pull the trigger. Understandable.”

“I am not her dad.”

“In a surrogate sense you are, and she relies on that. I don’t blame you at all. I’ll feel no guilt if I shut off her powers, and I can always turn ‘em back on again.”

“You think she’ll change her mind?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. She just might miss the hero biz.”

“Why? It sucks.”

“So why do you do it?”

He shrugged, and suddenly wished he had another drink. Not so coincidentally, one appeared right next to his chair. This time it had an abundance of pink flamingo swizzle sticks in it. “Somebody’s gotta. It’s what I’m good for.”

“Now now, don’t ruin a nice little truth with self-deprecation. You’re not worried about Magneto gettin’ his powers back?”

“I was for one second, then I remembered that Mystique would get her powers back too.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

Logan couldn’t help but chuckle darkly. “She’s gonna fuckin’ kill him. He betrayed her, sold her out, and that bitch holds a grudge. Mags may have the more overwhelming power, but she’s an expert at infiltration and assassination. She could kill that fucker armed with nothing more than a plastic spork. And you know, Magneto’s so arrogant I bet he’s forgotten all about her, which just makes it extra funny. He probably won’t remember her until right before she kills him. I hope she rips his intestines out and strangles him with ‘em.”

Bob chuckled, setting his drink aside. “Bitter much?”

“Hell no. I just wanna ringside seat. And maybe some popcorn.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

“Especially if the woman’s a psychopath.”

“That helps loads,” Bob agreed with a nod.

Logan tried his new drink, pulling out the swizzle sticks, and found it a bit better than the previous one. He still had no idea what it was, though. “If Reshef was comin’, you shoulda warned us.”

“I didn’t know. I’m not psychic.”

He stared at him, giving him the evilest look he could muster, but Bob just grinned back in a totally infuriating way. Logan wanted to get up and rip it off his face, but they both knew he wasn’t going to do that, mainly because he couldn’t. “So it’s just coincidence you left me to take on a plague god?”

Bob shrugged, trying and failing to look totally innocent. “It does happen occasionally. Coincidence, I mean.”

“Uh-huh. And if anyone else had said that, I might believe ‘em.”

“You kicked his ass.”

“That’s not the point. The point is you gave me your powers and stayed away ‘cause you figured my healing factor could take it. What if it couldn’t?”

“I categorically deny that I did that on purpose. But mate, of course your system could handle him. Your immune system is the most advanced on the entire planet.”

“He was a god.”

“A god of sickness. If his sickness didn’t kill ya within five seconds, it was never gonna.”

He rubbed his eyes, sure Bob had done this on purpose but unable to prove it, and in too pissy a mood to acknowledge his point. Did it even matter in the long run? “You comin’ back in time for the festivities?” He finally asked, changing the subject.

“What would those be?”

“Bren becoming the Gorgons’ Chosen.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll give it a shot, but I can’t promise anything. The kid’ll be okay.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at that. “I thought you weren’t psychic.”

Bob held his hands out expansively. “I’m not. But with people like you and Angel lookin’ out for him, he’ll be fine. He’s got two daddies, and they’re both pit bulls. And that’s not even throwing in his boyfriend, Count Hollywood North.”

“No Canadian jokes.”

“Oh good lord, mate, I wouldn’t dare.” He then grinned savagely. “In front of you.”

Logan never wavered in his gaze. “Do I have enough of your energy to kick your ass?”

“Nope. But you can give it a shot. These shorts make me feel like wrestling.”

“Okay, yeah, now that’s not gonna happen.”

He pouted sarcastically. “Spoil my fun.” His grin came back, easy and sly, and definitely never to be trusted. Bob’s self-applied moniker as the “King of All Liars” came back to him, and never seemed more appropriate than it was now. In his own way, he was far more dangerous than Reshef could ever be.

He almost told him of Camaxtli’s brief, tormenting visit, but didn’t, as he surely knew. This was Bob’s mindscape, and there were no secrets here … except the ones Bob chose to keep. Bob must have known, and the fact that he wasn’t bringing it up meant he didn’t think there was a point. For the moment.

Reshef was taken care of, but honestly nothing was settled. What would happen to Bren after he became the chosen of the Gorgons? It hadn’t done Rags any favor. And now Rogue was hanging around, with her powers back and no desire for them, merely the first obvious sign of a problem that could come back to haunt them all. And he still had no idea what to do with John, as “pushing” him in one direction or another seemed too much like the brainwashing he went through.

And then there was the big thing. He hadn’t meant to do it, and wasn’t even sure how he did it in the first place. He was just experimenting with Bob’s power, using it to track people beyond his immediate area, and he found himself locating people he knew. “Did you know?” Logan asked, not bothering to specify who he was talking about. Bob would know.

He shook his head, revealing that his hair was impossibly dry. “No, I’m just as shocked as you are. You know I try and avoid telepaths.”

This time he believed him. Bob had no great love for the man and wouldn’t have tried to conceal the knowledge.

It was why he wasn’t ready to go back to New York and hadn’t told anyone. What did he want to do with this information? Was he angry? Relieved? Suspicious?

Xavier was alive. He didn’t know how, but he was. And he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about it.

Or what he was supposed to do about it.