Morlock Imprisonment

Posted on Sun Apr 21st, 2024 @ 2:53pm by Jean Grey & Scott Summers
Edited on on Sun Apr 21st, 2024 @ 2:54pm

2,928 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 0: X Lang Syne
Location: Sewers of New York
Timeline: October 1986

Several pairs of hands reached out for Jean in the darkness. They were rough and forceful with her as they pinned her arms and stifled her screams before picking her up and carrying her. At least it felt like they were moving her, aside from the sway of motion it was hard to tell because all Jean saw was disorienting blackness that was devoid of all shape or color. After a few minutes, there was a creak of metal and a sliding door before Jean felt herself being thrown. With no way to gauge the distance and brace the fall, she hit the unseen brick floor with a skid that scraped her knee and elbow.

There were no words or orders given, she was simply discarded before the sound of closing doors and locks followed. The darkness eventually melted away and Jean found herself in a bleak holding cell. Made of the same old brick as the tunnels, it was a repurposed alcove that has been barred off with random bits of scrap metal to create a crude jail. A pile of rags and a bucket resided in opposite corners creating an almost laughable attempt at comfort.

Jean tried to use her telepathy again but to no avail. Her lack of powers only added to her fear, the loneliness making everything feel so much bleaker. But Jean was no shrinking violet, she knew the rest of the X-Men would arrive soon enough but she couldn’t just sit and wait for their arrival. Examining her skinned knee and elbow as she stood, Jean began to prod and test the metal bars of her cell for any points of weakness.

The beat down Scott had endured left him battered and bruised but otherwise none the worse for wear. A hood had been placed over his head while he'd been unceremoniously dragged by gigantic hands that held him like vice clamps. Dazed and confused, Scott didn't know what was happening beyond that.

“Jean…” he moaned. “Run… Jean… run…”

“Your friend won't be running anywhere,” said a rough, abrasive voice in a commanding tone. “But don't worry. She is safe… for now.”

Scott fought for clarity. Why was it so hard to move, to think? “Who are you? What’ve you done with… with…”

Jean. Her name was Jean. If Scott knew anything, it was that.

“Easy now,” the grating voice said with a touch more gentleness than before. “You took quite the blow to the head. Let me get a look at you.”

A flick of a knife and a ripping sound preceded a burst of light. Scott winced something fierce until he realized the hood was was being cut away. When his eyes adjusted, he saw a gaunt and wiry woman with short, dark hair and an eye patch.

“Who are you?” Scott croaked.

“Oh, love, you must have hit your head harder than you thought!” The woman's leathery face creased in a smile. “It's Callisto. Your love. Remember?”

Each word was enunciated so much that it sounded true.

“Callisto. Love. Remember.” Scott repeated the words like a vocabulary lesson. Did he know this person? He thought he did somehow. “What… how do I know you?”

“We live together,” Callisto insisted. “And we're in love. Remember that time when…” She trailed off, prompting to finish her sentence.

“...we almost got stuck in the mud,” Scott said.

Callisto grinned. “Yes! Yes, that's right!”

“And then we… swam in the lake.” Scott sounded more confused than ever.

“Exactly!” Callisto grinned. “Keep going!”

Scott looked around at the dingy brick walls and the bleak lighting. “We came down here… to help.”

“No, you've always been down here,” Callisto said. She looked away for minute. “Beautiful Dreamer… give him some more.”

“I'm trying, Callisto,” said a strained feminine voice. “He's resisting somehow.”

“Give him more,” Callisto ordered.

“But he might –”

“Give him more!” Callisto shouted.

The lightheaded feeling returned, making Scott feel almost disembodied. Memories flooded his mind that took him away from the chair in the dank room where he was seated. Kissing. Rainfall. Driving. Flying. Faces. No, a face. Fiery red hair. Iridescent green eyes. Scarlet lips.

Not Callisto.

“Jean,” whispered Scott, saying her name like a desperate prayer. “Jean.” That's right. Jean was his soulmate. They'd come down here together to help the mutants hiding in darkness and… “What have you done with her?!”

Callisto scowled as they came full circle. “You've lost him completely, Beautiful Dreamer.”

“I tried to warn you,” said the other woman out of Scott's view. Her voice carried a fretful sense of urgency. “Too much too fast could –”

“Silence!” Callisto shouted. “Ape, you get the other. We'll have to do this the hard way.”

Jean was once again escorted with rough hands and manhandling as she protested and fought against Ape every step of the way. Her difficult behavior resulted in her hands and feet being bound and Ape having to carry her over his shoulder.

Treating her like a sack of grain, Ape tossed her into another chair for Callisto to observe. Jean immediately noticed the batter Scott in a chair across from her.

“Cyclops!” She called out to him, worry in her voice over the disoriented state Scott was in. Her eyes darted to Callisto, seering anger in her gaze “What have you done to him?!”

“Cyclops is no longer your concern,” Callisto spat with a venomous grin. “You would do well to consider your own fate, Jean.” The Morlock leader cantered her head and glared at Jean with her sole good eye. “It is Jean, isn't it? Cyclops cares for you enough that he resisted our Beautiful Dreamer here. Let's see just how much…”

Nodding at Ape, she said, “Truss her up.”

Scott struggled to recognize the features of the room and what they meant for the other occupants. After a few seconds, he saw Jean was bound at the wrists and suspended from the ceiling by a makeshift pulley. And then a stick struck her against the ribs.

Jean wasn’t expecting the impact of the stick to sting as much as it did. The lashing across the tender area of her side made her scream.

“Stop it!” Scott shouted.

“Marry me,” Callisto said, “and I will let her go.”

“Let her go,” Scott said, “and I will let you live.”

Callisto let out a wicked cackle. “Is this the vaunted leader of the X-Men? Is this the help you descended into the depths of our domain to offer?”

“Let us go,” Scott said, “and our offer to help still stands. Harm her and it will end badly for you.”

Jean couldn’t help but ponder the odd request as the pain across her side started to dull. Scott was attempting to negotiate but she couldn’t help but try and figure out the logic behind Callisto’s bizarre demand.

“Marry you?” She questioned the ultimatum. “He’s seventeen and we’re in the sewers. What are you trying to accomplish?”

Callisto’s eye narrowed and her lips pursed at the impetuous questions. She spun on her heels and faced Jean. “Like so many social norms that we are denied, marriage is a mark of privilege amongst the Morlocks. We’re outcasts simply because our faces, our bodies, our powers make people uncomfortable. Life in the sewers, hidden from the world, is the only place where we can exist. Yet so many of us still crave the equality provided to the attractive.”

Callisto sneered at Jean’s angelic features, it was obvious the redhead had never faced prejudices because of the superficial.

“I am the leader of these people, to marry a surface dwelling mutant who also has served as a leader in his own right… it would solidify my rank and place.” Callisto walked back towards Scott and gently caressed his cheek. “Besides, he is beautiful. Another attribute that is envied down here that would also give me pleasure.”

Jean’s lip curled at the explanation and the confession. “Don’t touch him!”

“Silence!” Callisto barked as she struck the back of Jean’s bare knees with the stick. Jean didn’t scream like she had from the first blow but her whole body tensed and jerked from the sharp pain.

“So what will it be, Cyclops?” Callisto said as the devilish grin returned to her face.

Scott grimaced throughout the entire exchange, but when Callisto struck Jean again, his face turned to a scowl.

“I already stated my terms,” he growled. “I won't repeat them.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make your own demands.” Callisto said with a haughty laugh. “Besides, neither one of you is leaving the sewers. What would stop you from telling others about us?”

Callisto slowly circled Jean, selecting the next spot she would strike. “I don’t think you realize what’s happening here. I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. It’s just a matter of how much torture you’re willing to endure before you comply.”

Callisto smacked the stick across Jean’s cheek this time. The blow caused her to gasp and recoil from the pain before an unavoidable tear from the sting ran down her face. It became clear in that moment that it wasn’t Scott’s torture he would have to endure.

“Do you treat everyone this way?” Scott asked. Bound as he was to the chair, he couldn't look around at whoever else might be present. He raised his voice. “Do the Morlocks hide from the outer world or from their leader’s fist?” Now, practically shouting, he asked, “What do you know of love and kindness, Callisto?!”

“What do I know of love and kindness?” Callisto scoffed “Only that the world denies it to those they deem unworthy. The Morlocks do not value what they never had.”

Callisto looked over at Ape. “Gag him. He doesn’t need to speak, only to nod his head once he is ready to accept his fate.”

Ape advanced on Scott with a dingy strip of cloth that smelled like mildew. He discarded the pointless visor from his eyes and gagged him with the filthy rag.

“I’m sorry.” Jean said with sincerity “I’m sorry the world has been cruel to you and all the other Morlocks. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I don’t need your pity!” Callisto abandoned the stick and struck Jean with her open hand. This time Jean did cry out in pain as the blow landed right over the previous one.

Scott screamed into the rag around his mouth. The fetid taste and smell made him begin to vomit. Gagging sounds gurgled from his throat as the viscous liquid seeped around and through the disgusting fabric. His eyes rolled around back into his head.

“Idiot!” Callisto snapped at Ape. “He’s no good to me dead.” She ripped the gag from his mouth and pushed his chair onto its side. A far from gentle act that cleared his airways of vomit.

“Don’t hurt him!” A rage filled Jean demanded as a faint tremble of her power passed through the room.

Callisto’s eyes widened from the sensation and she glanced over to a small huddled mutant in the corner. “Leech! Do not let their powers get past you.”

“Leech sorry, Callisto,” Leech begged in the corner. “Leech did not mean to.”

Callisto glanced at Jean and then down at the sputtering Scott. “Ape! Pitch! Lock them up. We’ll continue this later.”

“Leech!” Callisto pointed at the cowering figure. “Stay close to them and no more funny business.”

Rough hands and formless darkness took them back to the makeshift holding cell. Discarding them with the same careless regard.

“Are you alright?” A touch of panic mixed with her concern. Aspiration on fluids had the potential to make Scott sick, a complication that could turn grave in a few days.

“Yeah…” Scott gasped, coughed, and snorted residual upchuck from his nose and throat. “I think so. That was…was just the most vile experience of my life.”

Even without the benefit of her telepathy, Jean could tell Scott meant more than just the rag. Everything about that situation had disturbed Scott to his core. If not for Professor Xavier's tutelage, Scott would have no composure to speak of. Here and now, despite the vomit and hoarse throat, Scott still struck an impressive figure whose nobility was not significantly reduced by the humbling circumstances.

As he looked at Jean, he asked, “How about you? Are you okay?”

Before she could answer, Scott noticed how nothing could diminish her beauty. Somehow Jean looked even more vibrant, her scarlett hair and her fair complexion contrasted with her brilliant jade eyes.

Scott gasped at the realization. Her eyes really were green. Not yellowed by the red hue of his visor but as green as he remembered the coming of spring before his powers manifested, before he had to hide the world behind a ruby-quartz veil in order to protect it from himself.

“God…you're beautiful.” His voice was a raspy whisper. The unfiltered sight of her otherworldly beauty brought tears to his eyes, forcing him to blink them away. Finally he buried his face in the crook of his own arm. “I can't look at you. I shouldn't! My power could come back any second!”

“Just for a moment… please.” Jean’s voice dropped to a whisper as she scooted closer to her. The request felt so private and personal for such a dire situation but she didn’t know when another opportunity like this would ever arise. Scott could at least glean some insight into her unfiltered appearance but Jean had never seen his eyes without his glasses. There were no pictures of him as a child before the mansion. Even now, with closed eyes and no visor or lenses Scott became apprehensive, too concerned about an accidental slip to go without either for an extended period of time. It was a constant barrier that they had both learned to accept.

“For me. For us. Please.” Jean came in a little closer still so she could catch every detail.

As if Scott would deny her any request, he slowly dropped his arm and returned his gaze towards her.

Jean had asked him about the color of his eyes when they were younger. Scott had merely written them off as brown. Unremarkable and now tainted, he did little more to describe them. But in this moment she got to see them and they made her gasp in awe.

Scott’s eyes were a warm brown, a whiskey colored that held light and warmth to them. They softened his square cut features, giving a touch more emotion to his stern face that most would described as stoic. But there was also an intensity to his gaze that Jean had only felt but never actually seen, sharp and observant, calculated and measured, so much of that was lost thanks to the ruby quartz.

“You’re beautiful.” A repeat of his description of her along with a hiccup and hitch of her breath thanks to the swell of emotions that followed.

“No, you.” There was no small hurdle of fear and trepidation in granting Jean her heart’s desire. Once he'd done so, Scott met her eyes again, this time intentionally and full of purpose. The verdant beauty that stared back at him took his breath away harder than a gut punch. And the love…such love that he had never truly seen, not without layers and barriers between them.

Nothing could hold back the kiss they shared. In that dark, musty, horrible place, a new light shined between them, one that Scott feared might never have come. But the light of love burns away fear and scatters it like shadows. There was no cold, no gloom, no weakness anymore. It all had been swallowed up in the power of their love.

He felt her softly sob as their lips met. A few stray tears of happiness and joy that slowly rolled down her cheeks. Jean was overwhelmed by the moment shared between them. Emotions were freely shared thanks to her telepathy but even while lacking that ability she still felt that consuming sensation of love from him. Without the things that hindered and enhanced their connection to one another they still found that beautiful, cherished place.

“Leech will help.” A small voice from the corner croaked as the huddled figure stood up. Green skinned and almost frog-like in appearance, the mutant was no older than twelve. “Leech does not want Callisto to hurt or separate. You are like fairytale.”

The unexpected interruption snapped Scott to attention. He lurched to a defensive posture until his eyes fixed on the green little mutant who'd spoken. Green. It was not a color he'd been accustomed to, as his vision didn't interact well with it against the ubiquitous red.

“Leech?” Scott repeated. “Is that your name?” He slid toward the other mutant in slow and careful movements so as not to scare him off. With hand outstretched, he says, “Friends call me Cyclops on account of my visor. You can call me Cyclops if you'd like. If you help us, we can help you…you and all your friends.”

Scott paused to let Leech take his hand. If it wasn't Leech's first handshake, it had to be his second or third. Resisting the urge to flinch, Scott said, “It's a deal. Now… start by telling us everything.”

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