Chapter Text
Pain. A dull, throbbing pain that seemed to pulse through every limb. A pain so constant that even lifting its head caused its body to buzz alight with an intense sharpness. It felt hazy, out of itself. It blinked slowly, though there was no light for its vision to adjust to. It was surrounded by darkness. Suffocating, cramping darkness. But panic did not seize it. It did not have enough faculties to spare on that.
It…Kurt willed its fingers to move. They thankfully twitched at its beckoning. They tingled as blood flowed back to them. Then its wrists. Arms. Until it could prop itself up. Kurt ignored the pain. It ignored how its limbs tingled as life prickled back into them.
The haziness began to clear slightly. Its eyes adjusted slightly to the darkness. It could see the glow of a green dot on its neck reflected on a metallic surface. It suddenly became aware of a tightness around its throat. It choked back a whine as it reached up. Clawing at its fur, its throat, it felt cool metal.
It was collared. Again.
It could feel its throat closing. It wasn’t sure if it was from the collar or from the panic seizing its body. It wasn’t given time to dwell on it. Immediately, electric feedback whined against its ears, reverberating violently against the metallic box it sat in.
It reached up to cover its ears—its wrists were free—cringing in on itself, trying to alleviate the pain that seared across its head. The feedback phased out, and a voice filtered through.
“Finally awake, are we?”
Kurt froze. It was deep, like a man’s voice. It made his fur crawl.
“Good. Would have been disappointing to see our investment fail so quickly.” The mic shifted slightly as the speaker sighed onto it. Papers shuffled in the background. “Let’s see. Weapon MCXI. Designation: Nightcrawler. Deployed on August the third to Washington D.C.. Did not return to rendezvous. Collar pinged in Westchester County, New York before going dark. Did not complete mission objective. Reason: Defection.”
Defection.
Kurt’s heart was in its throat. Its head spun. It had not…it had not defected. It had been at the facility the entire time. It didn’t even try to flee when it was released from its collar, when it was brought outside. Logan must have reported that. He must have told them. Where was Logan? Why wasn’t he—
“Now, usually, defection is dealt with…swiftly.”
The way the voice paused made Kurt’s skin crawl. It hadn’t defected. There was something wrong. It hadn’t—why was he saying it—
“However,” the voice continued, “had it not been for Weapon MCXI’s, henceforth referred to as Nightcrawler, defection, Weapon X may have never been recovered. And that, indeed, deserves some praise, and even, some…forgiveness.”
Forgiveness. That was new. Or it would have been new. But it was clear by his latest facilities’ operation that it was becoming a part of routine. Kurt tried to get himself to relax at that, but for some reason he was still tense. Something was off.
The way the voice spoke made him uneasy. He wasn’t speaking to it, barely acknowledging it outside of providing an update to its status. Did he even know it could hear him?
Kurt’s fingers twitched as it scratched at its ears. It shouldn’t be listening. These words were not meant for it. But the voice was so loud around it. It could hardly drown him out.
“So, as a reward, Nightcrawler has been selected for Weapon X’s training regimen. The goal is to determine any potential defects in Weapon X. Nightcrawler was deemed the most viable candidate due to its unique relationship with Weapon X.”
Unique relationship? It did not know of any Weapon X, let alone have a relationship with one. It was not supposed to know of any others. It wasn’t—
Kurt sucked in a breath as its eyes went wide. Rogue.
Where was Rogue? It tried to rack its brain, tried to piece together how it ended up here. But its memory was fuzzy. It could only recall hazy images and muffled sounds.
The voice continued its report. “Nightcrawler’s objective for this regimen is as follows: kill Weapon X.”
Kurt’s heart stopped. No…
No.
No. No. No.No.NoNoNoNoNo—
Rogue promised. Logan promised. They promised it wouldn’t be ordered to hurt her. They promised. They promised. He promised. He promis—
Pain shot into the back of its neck. It choked on a gasp, eyes tearing up. Its body tensed instinctively, preparing for the typical fog that followed. But none came.
It tried to take in a breath, but could only wheeze. It hadn’t noticed when its own hands wrapped around its neck, its claws drawing blood as they dug deep into the skin of its nape.
The voice chuckled, his breath hitting the microphone as feedback wined. “There will be no serum administered.”
Kurt’s blood ran cold. He knew it was listening. He was speaking to it now.
The voice continued, returning to its normal droll from before. “Given its failure to complete the original mission objective, we wish to determine if Nightcrawler is a defective model. To ensure this, Nightcrawler must operate with full awareness. If Nightcrawler is able to kill Weapon X, this transgression will be overlooked. If Nightcrawler cannot, then—”
Kurt heard its collar beep. The green glow shifted to red.
“—Weapon X kills Nightcrawler.”
Kurt felt its body drop as the floor of its cage opened below it.