By Maikafuiniel
Prologue
No matter how great and destructive your problems may seem now, remember, you've probably only seen the tip of them.
Forge stood quietly at the end of his work bench, trying to understand just what had gone wrong with his latest project. He couldn't understand it… everything was correct! Every formula perfect! Every mechanical bit and piece perfectly aligned and fitted to match with everything else. There was simply no way that it could possibly not work.
Or so he had thought. When belief and fact hit each other though, there really is only one option. With a grouchy groan, Forge picked up one of the formula bottles that he had left on the table. This was it… the one that had messed everything else. It had been exactly the same as any other formula, but this was the one that wouldn't work. And if one bottle didn't work, he couldn't use the others without knowing that something was going to go wrong.
He couldn't let that happen. Not after the whole charade with the alternate dimensions, and having Kurt get mixed up in it all. He couldn't let anything go wrong this time… he wanted to have it all right. He wanted to be able to go up to the others, show them, and be proud in his knowledge that it was all good, working material.
Taking a rod and placing it in the clear liquid, he gave it another quick mixing. He knew it wouldn't do any good, but it gave him something to do with his hands while he thought about what the problem could be. With a pull he brought the experiment back to mind, and went back to the beginning.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, "Simple. Plan was to create a mixture of which would age me accordingly to what I would have been had I not been trapped in the dimension, so that I could go back to my family without them thinking I was some sort of deranged lunatic. Everything was going alright until the hydro-carbons mixed with tricolbaltchlorine. So, simple answer, something was wrong with the tricolbaltchlorine. But I've checked that," he answered himself with a growl, "There was nothing wrong with it. So next obvious answer, something was wrong with the connection. But both are chemically compatible, so that makes no sense…"
He rolled his shoulders, trying to calm himself and get rid of the rising ache in his shoulders. "It should work, but it doesn't on the mice. So there's something wrong with the mice? But I know they're in peak physical condition, so it's the connection there. It was made for humans though, so obviously there has to be room left there for that."
He stopped for a moment, and rubbed his face with his hands. His eyelids were falling on their own accord by this point, and he knew that he had to get some sleep. But he had been so sure. So positive that tonight would be the night he could finally go home. Finally see his family. Finally, after all those wasted years, he could make something of himself again. He could have a chance at a real life…
But it wasn't going to work, not on the mice. "What I need," he said to himself quietly, "Is a test subject. Somebody who isn't me so that I'm there if something goes wrong."
He shook his head at the thought though. "No… that's not right. I need more then that. I need a mutant test subject so that I can factor in the X-Gene. Using it on a human would likely give the same result as using it on a mouse. Nothing. But I can't just use it on any of the X-Men," he continued, "No. That wouldn't work at all. The professor would never let me, and this is supposed to be a surprise anyway."
He sat there for another moment, trying to pull his thoughts together, when suddenly his head shot up. "Alright then… they won't notice. Hell, if it works I'll explain it to them, and if it doesn't then nothing lost, right? And they won't go the professor…"
Grabbing the bottle of formula, he put a tight lid on it and stood up. Tonight he was going to pay a visit to the Brotherhood Boarding House, and see just what was up.
Toad lay back on the chesterfield in the living room, trying to ignore the sounds of a fist fight coming from the kitchen. Obviously Lance and Pietro had gone at it again, and they would both be sprouting new bruises in the morning. That was, of course, on the condition that Pietro didn't manage to set off Lance to such a degree that he would bring the house down and kill them all.
Freddy, he knew, had gone out hours ago with Mystique to shop for groceries. She was the one with the money, and Freddy was the one who knew exactly what they would need and why, seeing as he kept such a close eye on the fridge. Normally they would have been back hours ago, but Toad had long since noticed that when they left they tended to be gone for a while. It seemed he wasn't the only one who was getting tired of living in this house…
Lance was always angry. Always recently fired from some new job where he had gotten fired for causing arguments or telling off the customers, and always recently broken up with some new girl. It was obvious to anyone who had to live with the demented teen that he was head over heels in love with Kitty Pryde of the X-Geeks, but he would never admit it. He would never let himself be happy if it meant loving one of them.
Likewise Pietro was just fed up with everything. Fed up with the smell, lack of food, look of hygine, and more. He was used to the high life, and now was forced to live in the constant fear the somebody, somewhere, was going to come after him because of the way he was born. Had to live in the constant fear that his own sister was going to rip his spinal cord right out of him.
Toad smiled at the thought of her. He had only met her once to date, and it had been far from a good meeting, but he had found himself thoroughly obsessed with the gothic girl. She was just so… her. That was the only way he could put it. The way she spoke, the way she dressed, the way she acted. It was all Wanda, and it flowed out of her in a way that made him want to do anything, if only she would ask.
And so the Brotherhood was falling apart. He liked to think that he was the only person left who was immune to the feelings of anger and hate that seemed to flow through this house as if a faucet had been left on, but he knew it was the opposite. He hated it here. He hated them. He hated the way they felt about each other. When it had been just him and Mystique everything had been alright, but since Lance moved in, then Freddy and Pietro, it was one big powder-keg ready to go off at any moment.
This wasn't a home. It wasn't a family. It was a bunch of delinquents forced together and teaching each other how to be all the worse; and it was obvious to anybody who found themselves on the outside just what was happening.
He sighed deeply, and tried to bury himself further into the couch to get warm.
He had been feeling sick lately, with some sort of flu bug going around and effecting all the mutants in Bayville. It had hit almost 95% of the mutant population in the first week, and he was sure he had gotten out of the time without getting sick, but just as everyone else was getting better it hit him- hard.
He couldn't get out of bed without feeling as though he were going to topple over, and he didn't even have the strength to shoot out his tongue at that one fly that had made a habit of flying near the ceiling in lazy circles; he could see it in the corner of his eye and knew that all he had to do was grab it… But he didn't bother. In his state it felt as though nothing was worth it at all, let alone making all that effort of having his tongue go across a room before a fly had noticed.
When he heard a loud snap from the kitchen he knew that there was going to be a very mad Mystique when she came home. It sounded as though the table had been broken right in half by somebody landing on it. He sighed and attempted to concentrate on the television instead. It was a discovery channel program about the lives of poison frogs…
"I should be so lucky, yo," he commented quietly as he turned up the volume of the program, drowning out the sounds of the other boys.
It wasn't too long though before the heard the sound of not one but two doors slamming. Pietro had gone back to his room to try and rebuild his ego before going out for a night on the town to get rid of the stress carried over from the fight, as he did so constantly these days, and Lance had stormed out of the house to take out his anger on some unlucky lake or empty field where he wouldn't be noticed using his powers. The sound of an engine could be heard in the distance, and Toad knew that at least for a while he was safe. When Lance came home he would just fake sleep…
But with that thought he shook his head slowly. Why fake sleep at all when he was so tired and feeling sick anyway?
Taking the remote control in his hand he turned the television off and settled down in the couch for a nap. Maybe he would even feel better when he woke up, though somehow he doubted it.
Forge sat quietly in the bushes, not knowing just how he was going to get his formula into the building at all, let alone get one of the untrusting Brotherhood boys to drink it without questioning what it was.
He waited outside the front door in the bushes for a good hour before suddenly the door swung open. He ducked behind the bushes quickly, and watched as a clearly enraged Avalanche stomped through the frame and towards his car. Less then five minutes later Quicksilver came tearing out of the building, and though he couldn't catch quite where the quick mutant was headed, it was obvious he wanted out of the house.
He waited again for another five moments, before realizing that the house was dead silent otherwise. Could the other members already be out? Could he be so lucky?
He could see the door hanging open just a little… just enough so that he could see into the open boot closet where it was obvious that the only pair of shoes left there were a pair of green and stained white runners.
He shook his head in disgust. Todd "Toad" Tolansky was evidently still at home. Though he could totally believe that the boy had no social life, it made his job all the more difficult. He would have to go in there with a hyper mutant that could stick to walls bounding around and following him.
He wondered for a moment if maybe the boy would be in his room, doing whatever it was when he was alone, and carefully pushed the door open just a little more- cringing when he heard the creaking from the old and worn hinges.
Not seeing anybody come running at the sound he took a single step in, careful not to let the floor creek under his surprisingly heavy body. He cursed himself for his stupidity, but knew that he needed to have this formula tested- and soon. He couldn't wait anymore. No, he needed this. He needed to make sure it worked.
Still nobody came running to the door and so he took one more step in, and then another, and another. He was sure by that point that the young mutant would still be in his room by this point, but then as he passed the living room he noticed a lump on the chesterfield. He snapped back and immediately hid behind a wall, trying to cover up the sound of his breathing. He stayed like that for a moment before he realized that Toad was asleep.
The flu, he knew, had gone around the institute quite badly but he didn't know that the Brotherhood had been suffering from it as well. It was obvious that they were though, not only from the even more then average stench coming from the boy, but the paper bags that were stacked at hand length in case of emergency.
With a shrug he remembered his own time dealing with the flu, and knew that Toad would be quite out of it for a while to come. He wouldn't have to worry about him waking up unless somebody made an intensive effort to do so.
Without so much caution as before he ran for where he knew the kitchen would be located in this building, and began to search through the cupboard, ignoring the broken kitchen table in the middle of the room. When he finally found a clean cup that wasn't broken or otherwise mutilated he slowly and carefully put half of the formula into it.
The rest he would need for himself if it worked, or to study if it didn't.
He knew that this was the type of home where very little was wasted, and carefully set the cup inside the fridge. Somebody would drink it eventually…
He was about to go back to the front door when he heard it opening from the kitchen. There was two voices he recognized as Mystique and Blob. He gasped and quickly made his way for the back door, knowing that there was no other way he was going to get out of the house.
Finally out, and knowing he had gotten out with only moments to spare, he sighed deeply and fell again into the bushes. It had to be around midnight by now, and everything hurt. He was tired, but emotionally and physically. He would go home, and in the morning… maybe everything would be better.
Without another though to it, Forge left.
It's said that when a man changes somebody's life in an extreme way, they will always know, and the memory of it will follow them forever. It is also said that every decision we make, whether it be a step back instead of forward, will change our entire destiny.