The Tide Changed

I do not own any of these characters! They belong to the their rightful owners, I just borrow them form time to time. So, don’t sue me. You’d be getting all of 32 cents *shuffles through pockets* … uh a button and some lint.

Warning: Not much happening, a little hinting, that is just about all. Lots of swearing.


“I am fucking sick of this!!!!”

The gray walls of the Brotherhood’s hideout shook violently. Lance, now 20 years old, screams at the top of his lungs. His temper never phasing, dispite his age. He was still violent, if not more so. He promptly delivers his fist in to a near by wall.

“ Then, just leave. I can surely handle things better than you have. Why don’t you just find a nice porno mag whack off for a bit, come back, and maybe you’ll stop ‘remolding’ our room.” Pietro smirks from a near by armchair. “ I know! The bookshop across the street! I think they might have some porno that interests your kind. Now do you like asses or cock?” He quirks with a grin. Lance’s brows furrow. He growls in anger as the walls quake. “ I am going to kill you, you little---” Pietro lazily lifts his slender form from his chair. “ Now, we both know that you can’t do that.” Pietro waved two fingers in front of Lance’s face. “Two reasons. One, daddy would be very mad. Two, I will tell the others your little secret. Mystique’ll boot your ass off the team before you can say ‘Avalanche’.” Pietro pokes Lance’s chest at each snide word. Lance growls once more, vainly trying to snatch Pietro’s hand. “ I’m just too fast. Even for you, rocky.” Not being able to take this pompous display, Lance, storms heavy footed to the wooden door of their shared bedroom.

“If you’re going to go out you might want to take a jacket. It’s mighty cold for a delicate flower such as yourself.” Lance narrows his eyes. “Fuck off, Pietro.” He grabs his brown jacket. Stuffing his hands in the leather pockets, Lance storms out of the drab décor of the hide out in to the cold unforgiving night. Pietro, with a smirk plastered on his face sat back in the chair. “Oh, such angst.”

The tall muscular brunet stalks through the streets of Bayville a scowl plastered on his face. ‘I hate them all. They are such pricks. Why do I even stay?’ This thought caused him to stop in tracks. ‘Why do I stay?’ Frowning, brows furrow.‘ Oh, yeah. I have nowhere else to go. I am such a jerk. I’d better get back before they send Pietro or Todd after me.’ He grabbed the silver zipper of his jacket and pulled it up to defend his skin from blustery night. As Lance turned to start his solemn walk back, two arms grabbed him from behind. Taken off gard, he freezes, letting the shadowed man drag him in to a near bye deserted alley.

“Where’s your money?”

Lance panicked as he felt a cool metal blade ghost about his throat. If he used his power, there was no telling where the blade would hit. Lance swallowed hard. He wanted to go, but not like this.

“Where’s your fucking money!?” The strong arms around lance tighten uncomfortably. The brunet’s breath hitched.

“Uh… I don’t have any!” Lance, in a rare moment decides to tell the truth, he had neglected to bring any money with him.

“I don’t believe you.” The taller attacker throws Lance to the moist pavement in frustration. Groaning, Lance, tried to get up. The thief had other plans. The unknown man searches his trench coat hastily. He retrieves a small hand-held pistol.

“Stay were I put ya!”

Lance’s heart skipped a beat. With a fearful expression he crouches back to his “place”, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Better.”

Kurt Wagner cheerfully deeply inhaled the aroma of greasy goodness that was GutBomb’s double deluxe hamburger grand. He had just gotten back from GutBomb, and now carried a hefty load of burgers under his belt. One of which he was still happily munching on. ‘ Wow this tastes sooo good. I don’t know vhat Kitty could possibly have against this.’ He had asked the lithe girl if she wanted to join him. Although they had broken up just last week, their friendship was still strong. Awkward, yes, but strong. Kurt was abruptly shaken from his train of thought when a panicked and strangely familiar voice cut through the night.

“Ahhh, I got no money!”

On instinct, Kurt ducks down at the mouth of the alleyway. Peering around the red brick, he saw a tall man hunched over another man on the ground. A large amount of curses where being exchanged. Kurt’s eyes widened as the metallic gleam from a pistol shown light on the victim’s face. ‘Lance! It is time to act.’ Kurt sat his bag down. ‘Hold on.’ Quickly flicking a button on his watch, he turns in to his blue fuzzy self. Kurt in his true form proceeds to lurk closer to the scene.

“Fuck! Help!!” Lance screams in to the night. Intern received a black eye from his attacker.

“This is the last time I tell you. Shut the fuck up!”

The shadowed man hurriedly looks through Lance’s pockets. Lance tries to scream but is walloped once more. This time with the handle of the knife.

Lance is effectively knocked out. A lone can rolls in to the thief's view. Startled he reasons that “ Probably a cat.” Another can follows the first. “ Who’s there?” Silence. “ Damn Cat.” He continues to search when a third can rolls in to view from the same area. Curious, he sets his gun down to investigate. “Here kitty, kitty.” Kurt, looming in the darkness, jumps in to view.

“Meow.”

The man shocked reaches for his gun and realizes where he left it. Kurt picks up the gun and flips the safety off. “ Now, go. Before I show you, first hand, how to shoot a gun.”

Kurt shoots the cans by the man feet.

“Go. Now.”

“ AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The attacker runs for it.

Kurt disposing of the gun flips the switch on his watch. “ I knew looking like this would come in handy one day.” A groan escapes Lance’s bloody lips. “ We need to get you out of here, Lance. Just stay awake for me.” “Kurt?” The 17-year-old X-man hauls Lance over his shoulder and ports to his waiting VW Passat. “ I’ll get you to the Professor. Here, put pressure on your head with this.” He hands Lance a T-shirt from his cluttered back seat. “Kurt…” Trying to keep his eyes on the road and on Lance, Kurt talks to him.

“Keep awake, keep talking, Lance.” Lance places his head in his hands. His vision is getting fuzzy.

“Keep awake.” Lance groans in pain. “ DA! We’re here! Now grab on to my shoulder.” The German teen ports them out of the car only leaving a cloud of brimstone behind. Lance blacks out.

“Pietro, I can’t. I don’t love you anymore.” Lance sat nude in Pietro’s bed, his hands clenched in tight fists. Pietro raised an elegant bleached brow.

His long tapered fingers stroked along Lance’s tanned chest. Pietro gazed at him with pleading blue eyes. “ La~nce. You know you can’t refuse me.”

Lance stood wrapping a sheet around his waist. He slowly walked the door. “ Where are you going?” He held the knob in a white-knuckled fist. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Lance’s eyes flutter open. Bright sun light streams through an open window by the bed. ‘Where am I?’ He looks around the plush red room. Kurt, curled up sleeping in an armchair near Lance’s bed, is softly snoring. Lance admires his fuzzy ‘savior’ with a smirk. ‘Thanks, Kurt.’ There is a knock at the door. “Come in.” Jean enters with a tray in hand. “ I thought you might be hungry.” As if on cue, Lance’s stomach rumbles in response.

“Yea I guess I am. Why is he---” Jean set’s down they tray. “ Kurt’s been here all night watching over you, Lance. Poor thing fell asleep. I left a plate for him too. It’s the one to the left.” Jean turns to walk out. “ Wait, Red?”

Jean puts her hands on her hips. “ My name is Jean, Lance.” “ Sorry, um. Why? Why take me in?” Jean sits at the edge of Lance’s bed. She folds her hands in her lap and looks down at Lance. “ Because, we care.” Lance’s eyes downcast. ‘I’ve been nothing but a jerk.’ He thinks to himself. Jean touches his hand. “Yea, you’ve been a jerk. However, ‘been’ is the key word in that statement. At least you have stopped being a jerk long enough for Kurt to deem it worthy to rescue you. And, I guess, that’s good enough for me.” Jean laughs. “Yea, you’ve been a jerk. And I hope you continue to change that.”

Lance looks up at Jean. “I’ll try, I guess.” Jean gets up from the edge of the bed. “Well, I’ll leave you too your breathiest. Oh, and by the way, Professor X wishes to talk to you.” ‘I thought he would.’