CRY FOR MERCY ch5
- DISCLAIMERS AND SUCH ARE IN CH1
"Well this day couldn't get any shittier!" Earl said to himself as he
waited outside for Floyd to show up with keys to the meeting hall.
The local chapter of the Friends of Humanity had called for an
All hell had broke lose as far as every red-blooded bigot was
concerned. A new plan of action had to be thought up quick. No time
Earl saw Floyd pulling up in the drive-way and went to his car to
meet him. He was surprised to see that in the passenger seat was a
kid he had never seen before.
Earl leaned over the driver's window. "Who's the kid?"
Floyd causally unbuckled his safety belt and began opening the door
with Earl still hanging from its window. "Oh, hey, Earl, this is
Graydon. Graydon Creed. Me and Connie started takin' in foster kids.
He's our first."
Earl and Floyd were walking toward the meeting hall with Graydon
following close behind. Floyd leaned over and under his breath he
told Earl, "Connie had to work today, no one to leave the boy with."
Then he added. "Kid's parents are both muties; poor bastard."
Instantly Earl grabbed Floyd's sleeve and pulled him around to face
him. "And you brought him along? Are you fucking nuts?"
"Oh, no, trust me, it's cool. I've been teachin' him up right. He'll
fit in just fine."
"He better. We've had enough shit messing the apple cart lately. Umm
if his folks are a couple of muties, don't that make him one too?"
"Naw, that's where the kid got a break, That fuckin' X gene skipped
They all started walking toward the meeting hall again. Floyd reached
behind him and lovingly put his arm around Graydon and brought him in
between him and Earl. "Watch this. Hey Gray, is there such a thing as
a good mutie?"
The dark haired, dark eyed, muscular boy looked to be about thirteen,
though he wasn't even yet eleven. He had his hands in his pockets and
had a chip on his shoulder that was about the size of the Rock of
Gibraltar. With conviction in his voice the angry child said. "The
only good mutie is a dead mutie." The two men smiled at Graydon's
reply and all walked arm in arm toward the meeting hall.
There was no way Sabretooth was going to let Charles Xavier head-
shrink him. He sat in a leather chair with his arms folded over his
chest and just coldly stared at Charles who had insisted that he and
the psycho killer be left alone for Sabretooth's therapy session.
For a very long time, the two men just kept quiet and neither tried
breaking the ice. Finally, Charles spoke up. "Victor, are you happy?"
"What?" The tone of Victor's voice and the expression on his face
showed how ridiculous he thought the question was.
"Are you happy?" Charles repeated the question confident it was the
appropriate thing to ask.
Victor just sat there in his chair. Charles added. "Cooperate, don't
cooperate; the choice is yours. But as long as you don't trust us,
then we can not trust you."
"Trust is for suckers." Sabretooth snorted. "Really Victor?" Charles
pointed out. "Didn't it take some measure of trust to come here for
help in the first place?"
Victor just grunted and shifted his weight around in the chair. He
had been on one hell of an emotional roller coaster ride these passed
couple of days. He was mentally exhausted and just plain tired. He
was really not in the mood for any stupid head games right now, but
what else could he do?
He was just plain stuck in this mess. This mess that he wouldn't be
in if he wouldn't let his emotions run away every time he saw Logan.
After a while, Sabretooth finally snapped his reply at the
Professor. "Hell no!" was all he growled. Charles sounded sincerely
caring. "I'm sorry to hear that, Victor. Why aren't you happy?"
Victor couldn't believe this. "You're joking right?"
Charles offered no answer in return. Vic stood up and went to the
window and looked out at the younger children who were playing in the
They looked to be having fun, having a real good time. They were
happy; that was easy enough to see. `Guess that's important around
here.' Victor sarcastically thought to himself. He couldn't bring
himself to face Charles. "Oh, I don't know why. Maybe because my
whole life's a fucking mess right now. No other reason I can think of
"Hmmm, I see. Why is that?" Charles wasn't backing off.
Sabretooth whirled around and shot Charles an angry look. "'Cause you
fucking idiots had to come and stick your noses where they didn't
belong. If you would only open your eyes you would see Magneto has
the right answers. We're the `good guys' not you and your panty waist
x-men. His plan would have worked and every thing would be fine."
"There was a serious flaw in his machine, Victor. Had Magneto
succeeded, everyone in New York City would have been exposed and
thousands of people would have died."
"So?" Victor interrupted but not with out a little discomfort from
what little conscience he had left.
"Not to mention that Magneto was going to sacrifice the life of a
child in order to accomplish this. Does this sound right to you?"
Charles felt this may reach him.
"Yeah, well I didn't like that part too much." Sabretooth
admitted. "But Magneto never cared much for my opinion. Hell, he
didn't keep me around to do any thinking." There was a very faint but
detectable sound of hurt in Victor's voice.
"How do you feel about that?" Charles saw a chance to get Victor to
open up some.
Victor thought whether or not he should answer the question. He
hadn't intended to do much of any talking, but figured as long as he
answered some questions, especially the dumber one, then it can look
like he at least trying to cooperate and then maybe these frails
would put down there guard.
He hadn't thought of it until he was in the shower, but if he could
get his hands on something valuable to Magneto, that could be a real
bargaining chip for him later down the road. Magneto just might
forgive him for his inept behavior and allow him back into the fold
if he came crawling back baring a gift.
Too bad he couldn't just bring the bald guy's head on a silver
platter so to speak. Would have been a lot simpler than playing this
game, but luckily for Charles, Magneto had made it clear that he was
to be left unharmed.
Victor thought about his answer to Charles' question. "I don't know.
I guess it makes me feel like he thinks I'm dumb. Like he can't
imagine that I would ever have a good idea once in a while."
"But you do have good ideas from time to time don't you?" Charles
"Yeah, yeah," Victor's voice brightened. "I do. I'm not some dumb
blonde. Well, not always. Guess I don't like to do much thinking."
"Why don't you think more often? You seem to be quite good at it."
Remembering that Charles had been in his mind more than once lately,
Victor was beginning to understand he was dealing with someone who
knew him better than most.
"Well I like thinking about stuff that don't seem to matter much to
people. Don't know why that is, I just do. But every now and then I
have a good idea." Victor sat back down in the chair and leaned in
close to Charles. "Take the Rogue's situation last night. My idea was
to let the kid touch me once before she took on Mag's powers and then
once more after she was done. I'm strong enough to survive her
touching me a couple of short times. Rogue would have made it through
the ordeal, and we all could have gone home happy. And I stress the
word happy sense that's what you seem so interested in."
Victor folded his hands back over his chest and proudly looked down
on Charles who sat quietly nodding his head from his
wheelchair. "But, no. You go and blow the whole thing right out of
the water. I couldn't afford to give anything up to the girl with
your people fucking around. I needed to stay behind and baby sit the
"Well those `frails' managed to over power you. How do you suppose
they did that?"
"'Cause, `cause I'm a dumb ass jerk. I let my temper get the best of
me again." Victor was feeling guilty.
"You said you like to think about things that are unimportant to
others. Well, I would like you to think on this. Maybe your failure
last night was simply meant to be."
Victor chortled, "Meant to be?"
"Yes." Charles quietly repeated. "I want you to think about that.
We'll talk more tomorrow."
Sabretooth was relieved to have the first session finally over. Scott
escorted him back to his room. As they walked pasted the art room
Sabretooth recalled the encounter he had earlier with Mercy.
"You x-men pick the stupidest names for yourselves." Sabretooth
couldn't help but point out.
"Oh really? Then how do you justify you name, Sabretooth?" Scott
emphasized the name Sabretooth. "Well, think about it." Sabretooth
continued. "I mean don't you think `Mercy' is pretty stupid for a
"That's not a code name. That's her real name."
"No, shit?" Sabretooth was surprised. "Guess her parents didn't like
her much did they."
Scott chuckled. "There's nothing wrong with her name; it's rather
nice I think."
"You would name your daughter Mercy?" Sabretooth dared Scott as he
turned around forgetting that he couldn't see Scott's eyes.
"Well, now I don't know if I would go that far." Scott confessed
"Thought so." Sabretooth then added, "Me neither."