Running for Home - 76. April 17, 2022

April 17, 2022

I’m writing this a couple of days later since I’ve been unable to write due to more shitty circumstances beyond my control. What circumstances? Well, we’ll get there. Let’s just say that Easter with the Drakes did not go at all according to plan. The only question now is whether or not what happened will make Bobby’s parents respect me or be even more horrified of the man that I am. What’s important is that we’re fine. Bobby and Liam and I are fine. Well, not Liam, not really, but we’ll get through it. I just wish things could have been different.

We left the School for Boston on Easter Sunday at 9 am, after we had breakfast. Bobby was driving since he knew the way to his parents’ by heart. I kind of wish he had asked me to drive since it just left me stewing with my thoughts more than I probably would have if I had to pay attention to the road. We took I84 northeast to Boston. Bobby’s parents lived in Newton Centre, so at least we wouldn’t have to deal with inner-city traffic. The roads were still busy, though. Liam chatted away with me, interested in what we were passing by every time we got to a new city. He wanted me to show him where we were on a map on my phone a few times. Liam was definitely excited for this trip, looking forward to meeting his grandparents in person and having a turkey dinner. Bobby was smiling, but I could tell he was as nervous as I was about how this whole experience was going to go. Originally, it was just supposed to be for dinner, but Madeleine badgered Bobby until he agreed we could arrive early enough to have a light lunch with them as well.

The drive brought back some bad memories of the time Bobby, Rogue, Logan and I were fleeing Stryker’s attack on the School. I tried not to think about it, but we kept passing landmarks that I remembered from that terrifying, uncertain trip and I couldn’t help but start feeling more on edge.

Four hours later, we were pulling into William and Madeleine Drake’s driveway. Bobby frowned at the other car parked in the driveway, saying that his parents didn’t say anything to him about getting a new car. It was a Toyota Corolla, which Bobby thought was strange because his father insisted on American-built cars from all-American companies like Ford, GM and Chrysler, even if they were actually all big international conglomerates nowadays and not very American anymore.

Madeleine and William greeted us at the door, giving big hugs to Liam. Maddy gave Bobby a quick peck on the cheek, but William only offered him his hand. I got nothing, but at least I was acknowledged and it wasn’t hostile. Bobby asked them about the car as we moved from the entranceway into the living room, but stopped as we realized there were two other people there. Madeleine and William corrected Bobby, it wasn’t their car but Aaron and Ruth Allerdyce’s car. Liam’s other grandparents were here to visit too!

A chill went up my spine. These people were not my aunt and uncle, not the people I remembered them being from my childhood. Uncle Aaron was my father’s younger brother, and I remember them looking very much alike. No one would have mistaken my father and Uncle Aaron for anything but brothers. But this man? He looked nothing like my father. The woman who claimed to be my aunt Ruth didn’t look anything like I remembered either.

Bobby started annoyedly telling his mother that they shouldn’t have surprised us with this, we weren’t supposed to be overwhelming Liam with new people right now. Madeleine started chiding Bobby, saying it’s not like he hadn’t met them before himself at Ronnie’s funeral. She turned and introduced the three of us to ‘Aaron’ and ‘Ruth’.

Ruth smiled and asked Liam to come over so she could give him a hug. He started to move, but I grabbed him and stopped him. Bobby frowned at me, asking me what was wrong.

I narrowed my eyes and asked Ruth what day Joanna’s birthday is, the 23rd or 24th of April, because we wanted to celebrate with them even if Joanna wasn’t around. She chuckled and said that was a nice idea, and that it was the 24th. It would be lovely to celebrate together that day.

I shook my head. I lied - Joanna’s birthday was in February, on Groundhog Day. The only reason I remember that is because Joanna was obsessed with Punxsutawny Phil when we were little since her birthday was the same day that poor animal got dragged out every year and said she wanted to raise groundhogs when she grew up or something stupid like that. But that settled it, these people were frauds.

I told Bobby we were leaving, that these people aren’t who they say they are and I don’t like this situation one bit. Madeleine started to argue, but suddenly Aaron pulled a strange gun out and aimed it at us. I grabbed Liam and dropped to the floor, hearing the gun go off multiple times. Maddy was screaming, and Bobby and William dropped to the floor next to me.

Rage.

All I felt was rage.

Before I even knew what I was doing, my powers lashed out, causing Aaron and Ruth to burst into flames, flames so intense that I could feel their heat from across the room, threatening to spill over onto the furniture, the carpet, the walls. Aaron and Ruth were screaming now, running around the living room and struggling for a few seconds before falling to the carpet and writhing as their flesh burned away.

Moments later, there was nothing but two piles of ash left of them.

Madeleine was still screaming, now calling out Bobby and William’s names and looking at me in horror. I pulled myself off of a crying Liam and crawled over to where Bobby and William had fallen. They weren’t bleeding; instead there were a couple darts sticking out of them. I pulled them out, checking Bobby’s vitals. He had a pulse and he was breathing. They weren’t dead, just knocked out. Hopefully they were just tranq darts and not poison. I wasn’t going to wait to find out.

I stood up and grabbed Madeleine by the shoulders, getting her to look me in the eyes. I told her they weren’t dead, but she needed to call 911 right now. We needed police and an ambulance. Fuck, calling the police would be problematic now that I had killed those two, whoever they were, but I was going to have to deal with the consequences. It was fucking self-defense. How was I supposed to know they hadn’t killed Bobby and William? They attacked us, and I defended. The gun was lying right there on the floor!

There was the sound of a car door slamming shut outside. Frowning, I let go of Madeleine and told her again to call the cops and take care of Liam. I headed to the front door. There were four vans parked out front, with men in priestly robes getting out.

It was the Purifiers.

It was the GODDAMNED PURIFIERS!

I ran back into the living room and told Madeleine to take Liam and get down into the fucking basement to hide and call the fucking police right fucking now or we’d all be dead. That seemed to snap her out of whatever state she was in, and she grabbed Liam and started tugging him towards the back of the house. I whipped out my cellphone and speed-dialled Jean-Paul. He took his goddamned time picking up, but I finally got through to him and asked him to get the X-men here ASAP because the fucking Purifiers were here and they were going to fucking kill us!

I walked back to the front door, being careful to keep out of sight. I peaked through the little window in the door. There were twelve men there, pulling large wooden crosses out of the backs of the vans. The bastards were going to try and crucify us!

And then I saw it. I saw them bring a fifth cross out of the last van, one with a woman nailed to it. It was Joanna. She looked like shit, beaten and bruised with torn clothing. I couldn’t tell if she was alive or dead.

My blood was boiling as they erected the crosses on the front lawn, placing Joanna’s so she was facing the road. I could hear them now, chanting scriptures and praying even as they held guns in their hands. I wasn’t sure how I was going to do this. Using my powers like I just had to incinerate the frauds posing as my aunt and uncle had drained me and I felt dizzy, something I hadn’t realized right away in the adrenaline. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to be able to take all of these bastards out.

But then I felt it. Another man got out of the back of one of the vans with a flamethrower on his back. They were going to fucking burn the house down, probably to ‘purify the ground’ on which the goddamned muties and their parents had lived! I could feel the pilot light of that flamethrower, the tiny flame calling out to me, just waiting for the command to explode.

I hesitated.

Should I do this?

Should I try and wait and hope the X-men and the cops get here before they try and come in here to kill us and burn the fucking house down?

The chanting died away, and one of the Purifiers stepped up next to Joanna’s cross. He had a spear. He had a fucking spear and he was going to stab her, he was going to-

The flamethrower’s pilot light exploded outwards, flames rushing around and engulfing each and every one of those bastards. It was a white-hot conflagration, and it didn’t stop until there was nothing left but the crosses, Joanna and thirteen deeply charred corpses on the front lawn.

I stood there in the doorway, my fists clenching and unclenching, waiting to see if I had missed anyone, if there were any others remaining in those vans, waiting to get their retribution. But there was no other. I needed to get to Joanna, see if she was still alive. I ran out onto the burnt-up lawn, avoiding bodies as I went. God, they had nailed her to the damn thing, right through her wrists and her feet. She was bleeding slightly from the wounds, but not profusely. She must have been nailed to the damn thing for a while now.

I tried to lift the cross out of the housing that was keeping it upright. I struggled, but I managed it. Thank god for all the weight lifting and muscle building I was doing in the gym, this shit was seriously heavy. I carefully laid the cross on the ground and took Joanna’s pulse. It was really weak, but present. I could hear sirens approaching, and moments later two police cars and an ambulance peeled in.

I turned to greet them, but the officers got out of their cars with their guns drawn. I was told to freeze, to lay down on the ground with my hands above my head. What the fuck had Madeleine told the cops over the phone?!

I cooperated. After all this, I was not going to do something stupid and get shot by the fucking cops if I could help it. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Once I was on the ground on my belly, they started coming towards me. I started telling them what had happened, but they started shouting my fucking Miranda rights over me, not even fucking listening to what I had to say. They were on top of me, roughly grabbing my arms and yanking them back to cuff me.

I heard the front door swing open and suddenly Liam is barreling towards us screaming for his Mommy. One of the cops rushes him, trying to hold him back but suddenly it’s so fucking cold and the ground is frosting over and ice is forming everywhere and Liam is screaming to let him go, to let him see his Mommy.

The cold, the ice, it was emanating from him. He had powers, they had activated, and they were just like Bobby’s.

The cops start yelling at Liam, telling him to stop it or they’ll fucking shoot him and I hear Madeleine scream, yelling at them not to hurt her grandson. I yell at them, too, telling them that if they hurt a single hair on Liam’s head, they were dead men.

There was a blur, and the police officer holding Liam was suddenly not there, knocked on his ass a few yards away. And then Jean-Paul was there in front of Liam, on his knees at eye level with Liam asking him to calm down, everything would be okay, he just needed to calm down and they’d take care of his mommy.

The cops started yelling at Jean-Paul but then Emma was there, along with Piotr, Sam, Dani and the other X-men, trying to diffuse the situation. Emma told them to let the paramedics attend to Joanna and they could sort everything out peacefully. The police didn’t want to stand down, but at least they let the paramedics through to Joanna. Madeleine had made her way over to Liam now. She was mildly hysterical, wrapping him in a tight hug and telling him everything was going to be okay, that the paramedics would help his mommy. The ice and cold started receding, just a little.

The police asked Madeleine if I was the one who killed the people in her house and she said yes. She started to say something else, but they cut her off. They told me I was under arrest for murder, for killing fifteen people. Emma told them I hadn’t murdered anyone, that we had been attacked by the Purifiers and I had acted in self-defence. They were making a grave mistake.

One of the cops started mouthing off, swearing at her, saying that he knew exactly who I was, that I was that mutie terrorist named Pyro, the same one who’d almost killed him at this very same address years ago and he wasn’t going to let some slut in tight leather tell him what to do. He dragged me to my feet and started shoving me over towards one of the cars. I let him lead me willingly. I told the X-men to stand down, that it would be fine, that a judge could sort all this out. This was Boston, not the Wild West. Even if I’d killed fifteen of those bastard Purifiers, they were the ones who pulled guns. They were the ones with the crosses and the flamethrower. I had the Castle Doctrine to back me up. It was self-defence. I told Jean-Paul to check on Bobby and William, since they were still unconscious inside the house. Emma seemed like she wanted to argue, looking really concerned.

The cop shoved me hard against the side of one the squad cars, almost knocking the wind out of me. He ripped the door open and told me to get in. I started to comply, but apparently I wasn’t moving quickly enough. He shoved me hard, and my skull cracked off the side of the car and everything went black.

I woke up sometime later on the floor of a jail cell. My head was pounding, but my whole body ached like I’d been beaten. Everything felt a little off, and I was a little nauseous. I groaned, holding my head and sat up. I tried to stand and barely made it to my feet. My balance felt off. Fuck, I had a fucking concussion, didn’t I?

I unbuttoned my shirt. Bruises were forming all over my chest, abdomen and ribs. I’d been assaulted by that cop, by him and who knows how many others, while I was unconscious. I shivered, wondering if I was lucky to be alive. I buttoned my shirt back up and sat back down, trying to fight back the nausea. I didn’t want to puke in here and give them another excuse to beat me.

I looked around, trying to get a better understanding of my surroundings. There was a CCTV on the other side of the bars separating the cell from a hallway. I couldn’t hear anyone else moving around nearby, so it seemed that I was alone in here. I wasn’t sure whether I should call out to let whoever was on guard know I was awake or whether I should just sit there.

I needed a lawyer, but I wasn’t sure who to call. Vange was licensed to practice in New York and California, but I wasn’t sure if she was licensed for Massachusetts as well. Emma would probably sort that shit out anyway. She was probably already busting someone’s balls over what happened, so I probably didn’t have too long to wait before this would be resolved.

I hoped Bobby and Liam were okay. I hoped I was right and those darts were just tranquilizers, that they intended on keeping us alive until they crucified us on the Drakes’ front lawn or whatever it was they planned on doing to us. I hoped Joanna made it through this.

I sat there stewing for a long time, lost in my nausea, my thoughts and my worries. No one came to see if I was still alive. No one came to give me food or water or give me my phone call. It was as if they locked me up and threw away the key.

Eventually, my injuries caught up with me and I fell into a fitful sleep, lying there on the floor. I dreamed I was back there in the Drake’s living room, but this time I was paralyzed. This time I didn’t kill anyone and save us all. This time, they crucified us one by one on the Drake’s front lawn before setting the house on fire. I had to watch Bobby and Liam screaming in pain as they were being nailed to a cross, watch as those assholes took that spear and stabbed them in their sides, watch them bleed out. I was paralyzed and nothing I could do could change anything.

Suddenly, I was being shaken awake. I groaned, shrinking away from the touch.

And then I hear a voice chewing someone out, a familiar voice. I opened my eyes blearily. Vange was there, yelling at a police officer. I called out to her, interrupting her invective. She turned to me immediately, a look of deep concern on her face.

I’m not going to go into the details of what happened after that, just that she got me out of jail and got me to the hospital to be seen for my concussion. It was a long, drawn-out process that I just don’t feel like belabouring in writing. After I was seen by a doctor who confirmed I did indeed have a bad concussion and had me admitted for observation, Vange took a shit ton of pictures of my injuries, and talked about getting a full moment-by-moment account of what took place and even more pictures tomorrow morning after I’d had time to get some more sleep, this time in a hospital bed.

Bobby was okay. She told me that while we were waiting for my formal release from jail that he regained consciousness in the hospital not too long after they got him there. William awoke as well. Joanna, however, wasn’t doing so good. Last Vange heard, she had severe internal bleeding and climbing intracranial pressure from a head trauma. Not a good sign.

Vange told me we’d get the motherfuckers who did this to me good, that we’d take the Boston PD to the cleaners for wrongful imprisonment and abetting my beating. I told Vange I’d probably get lots of mileage writing about my experiences even if we didn’t win a lawsuit against the police. Some liberal-leaning rag would love a controversial story about an attack by the Purifiers followed by mutant policing gone wrong.

And then Bobby arrived with Liam. I cried. I cried so hard. I was so fucking glad they were safe, that they were okay. Well, Liam wasn’t really okay. Not after seeing his mother like that. Not now that she was fighting for her life in the ICU somewhere else in this hospital. But they were safe, they weren’t dead, and neither were Bobby’s parents.

Bobby and Liam surrounded me and hugged me. They were crying too. Bobby thanked me for seeing the signs he hadn’t seen, for getting Liam safely to the ground before taking care of our attackers, for stopping the rest of the Purifiers from murdering his parents and us. He told me he was glad I hadn’t waited for back-up or for the police.

Whatever the police believed about my actions, whatever public opinion was when all of this shook down, Bobby believed in me. Believed I made the right choices. I felt vindicated that for once I had used my powers destructively and killed people but it would be okay. It was for the greater good. I was right to do it, right to make them all burn.

But now there would be more. There will be next-steps to take. I’ll be damned if I don’t use this situation to advance the cause of mutant rights. Mystique warned me to stay as far from the Purifiers’ as possible, but would it really hurt to use this to try and turn the public against them? To try and get their opinions to shift and force the government to finally act to quell their cancerous beliefs and actions?

Fuck it, I am going to do it. I’m going to use my connections with the media to get this plastered on the front page of as many big rags as I could, and I’m going to get Vange to help me sue the fuck out of the Boston police.

This shit has to stop, now.