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A searing pain in your side. The sigh of the older man who you thought was on your side. The horrified gasp of the man who you thought was your enemy.
"He was getting too... attached to humans." He turned you too, still levitating off the ground like the egotistical asshole he is. "Don't think I didn't know about you helping out that human."
You had helped one human survive an accident where they would've been killed. In your mind you thought it wasn't that big of a deal. It was one human—one inconsequential little human who was going to get killed like the bumbling fool it was. Who were you to not guide the monkey who made fire but didn't know how to put it out? It's not like it mattered in the end. You guessed it mattered to Magneto. That much was obvious.
Just like that, Magneto—Erik—floated away from you, leaving you slumped up against the brick wall and bleeding profusely. He took the metal shard with him to prevent you from turning it into a bandage or a phone to call for help. At least he was smart in his betrayal.
Cyclops just stared at you, hands lifted slightly from his sides like he wanted to do something, like he wanted to help you.
"What are you staring at, X-Man? Don't you have a flight to catch?" You knew the team would be leaving any minute. They finished their mission, they saved the humans once again, and they prevented Magneto from taking over. You assumed the only person not on the plane was him; the rest were most likely trying to contact him through the earpiece he was wearing.
He scowled, looking up at the sky where Erik had left you. "So, what, you're just gonna lay there and wait to bleed out?"
You gave him your best "no fucking shit" look with your waning energy, deadpan and annoyed. Cyclops just shook his head and took a few steps towards you. On instinct you tried to back away, failing as you were already up against the brick corner in this dingy alleyway. If he were going to do something to you, you'd have no way of escaping.
He raised his hands up in surrender. "I'm not gonna hurt you; it seems like your boss already did the worst." After you wearily let your guard down, he held out a hand. "Think you can stand?"
You huffed out a breath, placing your hand in his and pulling yourself up. It was agony on your wound, but through it all you kept a stoic facade. You wouldn't let an X-Man see how much pain you're in.
He wrapped his arm around your back to stabilize you, starting to walk in the direction the two of you came from. You were half limping, having probably sprained your ankle running over here.
"Why the hell are you helping me, Cyclops?" Your words barely had the bite they usually would, drained of most of your anger.
"It's Scott." You couldn't tell where he was looking from underneath his visor, but you had the feeling he was staring at you from the corner of his eyes.
"What?"
"My name is Scott. You don't have to call me Cyclops." You looked over at him, nearly letting a smile pull at your lips before you corrected yourself.
"You're avoiding the question, Scott."
The only response you got was a shrug as the two of you kept walking. There was only a brief moment of silence before Scott started talking again, though it wasn't to you.
"I might be a bit; I've got an injured mutant that'll be joining us."
You half expected the man to dump you into a cop's hands or something, not allow you on the ship with the rest of the X-Men.
"That seems like a security hazard," you pointed out. He just turned to look at you blankly; the way he stared at you was intense, the kind that gave you the impression that you should stop talking. So you shut your mouth.
The longer you two walked, the more blood you were losing; it was difficult putting pressure on the wound since you were up and about. When you removed your hand, you caught a glance, seeing your skin covered in the red liquid. A shuddering breath left you at the sight. This was too much blood, and judging by the trail you were leaving behind, you didn't have long before you collapsed.
You would let it happen. Whatever the X-Men were planning to do to you once you got on that plane was far worse than dying here in the street. Besides, you didn't have a home to go back to anymore. Magneto effectively renounced your allegiance to the Brotherhood himself. This would only go so many ways: one, you die here while Scott is trying to save you. Two, you get saved and then are kicked out into the streets. Or three, you get saved and then turned over to the police. There was no way Professor Xavier would let you stay in his house after what you'd done, and you weren't really looking for that situation either. So dying in the street it is. It was easier this way.
When your knees suddenly gave out, you didn't fight it. You nearly took Scott down with you, with him trying and failing to counterbalance your weight. He sat you down gently on the sidewalk, kneeling in front of you. "Are you trying to get us both injured?"
"I'm bleeding out, asshole. Rather it be here than on your fancy plane while y'all interrogate me."
The other mutant just stared at you, lips drawn into a thin line and eyebrows pulled together. He sighed and dug his hands under your back and under your knees, deadlifting you from the ground. For how scrawny he looked, he was pretty strong.
"We're not gonna interrogate you. We're going to take you back to the mansion where we can get you medical help. Then you're welcome to stay with us, or you can leave."
It was hard to read Scott's face without being able to see his eyes. You were never one to trust easily—especially with people who have been targeted as your enemy for years now—this was no exception. Then again, the guy who you thought was on your side stabbed you with a shard of fucking metal like he's off his rocker, so things were different than usual.
Still, it didn't hurt to say something about it. "How can I trust you?"
He seemed annoyed and exhausted, his mouth twitching downwards into a frown at your question. "You don't. I'm already carrying you anyways, so personally, I would shut the fuck up."
You grumbled a bit but didn't struggle as he continued walking to the plane. You just wished he hadn't picked you up bridal style like you were some helpless maiden in need of rescuing.
When the two of you finally came across where the jet had landed, the rest of the X-Men were waiting on you. You could see the Wolverine tense up at one look at you, bleeding profusely in Scott's arms.
"The hell is he doing here?" His shoulders were tense, his hand balled into fists and seemingly ready to attack. As if you'd be able to fight at all, let alone stand. It's not like you were being princess-carried by the fucking Cyclops because you wanted to be.
Scott sat you down in one of the seats in the back of the plane while Storm started it up. You were practically seething silently, boring holes into the Wolverine with your eyes.
"He's injured. Magneto turned his back on him. Figured he needed help." Scott shrugged again as if this was the regular, picking up injured strays and nursing them back to health.
You stayed silent as the two of them argued, watching them get progressively more agitated the longer this went on. Jesus christ you were starting to feel bad for Scott; he was getting hounded on by Wolverine for no fucking reason, and he saved your ass.
Back and forth, the man with the mutton chops kept saying that you were a liability, with Scott arguing that Wolvie was the same way before. So you were right; Scott did have a tendency to save injured strays. Then Wolverine had the gall to say that you might just be some sort of spy, that Magneto hurt you so you would get taken in by the X-Men.
"I'm not a fucking spy." Your voice was barely a whisper, but it cut through all sounds in the plane. Everyone turned to you, staring at you silently as if you were a dog that just spoke. You tried to continue even through your labored breathing. "Magneto nearly killed me. Don't need to go all aggro on Scott for saving me from bleeding out, Wolverine."
When Scott turned back to Wolverine with a smug smile, you wanted nothing more than to deck him in the face. The corners of your vision were going black; you knew you'd be out soon. You'd gladly take that rather than watching those two fight like toddlers again.
Just before you passed out, you vaguely heard Wolverine say something about "Sleeping Beauty is out" and a scoff.
When you came to, you were handcuffed down to some sort of bed. It seemed they had you hopped up on some sort of pain meds because you could barely feel the stitches in your side. You let out a scoff as you transformed the handcuffs into paper. Or at least you tried to transform the handcuffs. They just wouldn't budge.
"Those won't transfigure. Neither will anything else around you." Jean spoke to you; she was on the other side of the room, holding a clipboard. Obviously at some point she had changed out of her X-Man suit and into a lab coat.
You groaned loudly, trying to yank your wrists free. "Why am I restrained? What, am I gonna punch someone while I'm still recovering from blood loss?"
She seemed unperturbed by your anger. "We've had incidents before." She takes a look at your heart rate monitor, writing down something on her clipboard. "But don't worry, you'll be let out of those soon. It was a precaution for when you woke up."
You watched her walk around the high-tech lab, putting things away, writing things down, and looking at the screens around you. After a few minutes she pressed some buttons, and the handcuffs retreated into the frame of the bed. You sat up and rubbed your wrists where they had gotten sore from pulling at the restraints, careful not to tug on the IV.
"So, what did you do to my powers?"
"Just a temporary mental block to make sure you didn't transfigure anything important." She seemed so nonchalant about this situation, for you to be unable to use your powers. It made you feel uneasy. Maybe that was some lasting hatred for humans. You felt human. It was disgusting. Magneto was wrong for thinking you had gone soft for that species.
You turned your head at the sound of a door opening, the whirring of motors like the ones at the grocery store.
"I see the princess is awake." You rolled your eyes at Scott. He had sunglasses on now instead of his visor; they were tinted red and had a pretty nasty glare to them due to the bright lights in the room.
"Oh, my knight in shining armor hath come back. I was beginning to think thou hadst passed in the night." Sarcasm practically dripped from your tongue with each word. You threw your legs over the side of the table, moving to stand. Right as you did, both Jean and Scott tried to stop you, quickly moving towards you as you jumped onto the ground from the slightly elevated surface.
"No, no, no, don't—"
You stumbled slightly, hunching over in pain. Seems those meds weren't as strong as you were hoping. Jean got to you first.
"You weren't supposed to get up yet; you'll pull your stitches—" She sounded worried, grabbing you by the shoulders and trying to get you back into the bed.
In your panic you transformed the bed into a shard of metal, a near copy of the one Magneto used to stab you. Jean let out a yelp as the shard clattered to the floor right where the bed had been.
Scott came up to your side while Jean tried to calm you down.
"It's okay, you're gonna be okay; if you keep panicking, you're going to change more objects." You tried taking deep breaths as Scott put a hand on your mid-back. Soon enough you could focus on changing the metal shard back into the bed, allowing the other mutants to set you down on it.
While Jean checked your stitches, Scott hovered over you, watching her work. When he looked up at your face, he smiled. "You sure you don't need more saving, princess?"
"You call me princess again and I'm transforming your glasses into confetti, Cyclops." Despite your biting words, a smile forced its way onto your face.
Jean shook her head with a grin. You let out a yelp from her pulling the bandages off of your freshly torn stitches.
"Why do you always bring the strays with no manners home, Scott?"