Title: God's Tears.
Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own.
Rating: PG-13/R. Not sure.
Warning: Slash. Don't like, don't read and certainly don't leave a flame.
Summary: Warren choked, crying out from the sudden flare of pain in his side, and curled up around the spot. Another kick landed, and another. Warren didn't even realize when he started crying. How often had he dreamed of feeling Peter touch him? Well, now he got his wish, and he wished he hadn't.
Author's note: So this beautiful first chapter was written by Indigo, because I needed assistance, so thank her for her beautiful writing. The rest will be my writing, but I needed a jump start. Review!
God's Tears
Thunder rumbled in the distance, making Warren glance up at the heavy, swollen sky above his head. It would rain soon. Good, he liked the rain, despite the fact that it often made him depressed, well, more depressed than usual. There was just something so ethereally beautiful about it. He remembered when he was very small, his mother used to tell him that the rain was god's tears for everything bad that happened on earth. As he got older he'd realized that that was ridiculous, if god were really crying for everything bad that happened, it'd never stop raining. All the same, it was comforting to think that some where up there, someone cared about him and felt his pain.
Warren was wandering the dark school grounds aimlessly, lost in thought. It was late, and the rest of the school was asleep. All was quiet.
"Hey, look it boys," Someone suddenly crowed behind him, "It's the little princeling, decided to grace us poor earth-bound folk with his presence."
Warren whirled, not having noticed the three other boys lurking in the shadows of the school smoking.
Iceman and Pyro snuffed their cigarettes out in the grass and pushed away from the wall they were leaning against, circling menacingly toward Warren, leering at him. Their friend stayed where he was, partially hidden in shadow.
"How've ya been, pal?" Pyro said mockingly, staying in front of Warren while Iceman slowly circled around behind him.
Warren attempted to back away from them, but Iceman was there, blocking his escape. "Aw, you can't leave so soon," Iceman hissed in his ear, "We were just about to have some fun."
"Yeah," Pyro said, "Or is Warren Worthington III too good to play with mere mortals like us?"
Warren opened his mouth, he tried to retort, to say something, do something, but nothing came.
"Colossus, hold his arms," Iceman ordered, his grin sending shivers of fear down Warren's back as he and Pyro paced closer.
Warren's head shot around as the third boy stirred and stepped slowly away from the wall. His heart skipped several beats and he suddenly found it nearly impossible to breathe. It was him.
"I don't know about this guys," Colossus said uncertainly, his deep, booming voice oddly soft, but he walked slowly toward Warren nonetheless.
"You ain't turning chicken on us, now are you?" Pyro growled darkly, glaring at the other boy.
"No,"
Colossus assured quickly, shaking his head, "It's just… what if
we get caught?"
"We won't get caught," Pyro snapped in a
how-much-of-an-idiot-are-you voice, "Now grab him before he tries
to fly away!"
Warren started, having completely forgotten his wings and realizing he could have made his escape long ago using them. But now he was too captivated by the large mutant lumbering toward him. All thoughts by the fact that Peter was about to touch him had completely flown his mind.
He didn't even twitch when Colossus reached him, staring at Warren oddly as he circled around behind Warren's back, his eyes demanding to know why the smaller mutant was not even trying to escape.
"Get his wings," Iceman ordered. Warren shuddered impulsively as the large, hot hand on his sensitive wings sent sharp, heated stabs through his body. Colossus forcefully pushed Warren's wings flat against his back and grabbed his arms, wrenching them behind him. All Warren could think about was just how close their bodies were too each other, the fire coursing through his veins from where Peter held his arms, Peter's hot breath coasting over his head and ruffling his hair.
Warren was so absorbed that he didn't even see the first blow coming. Suddenly, Iceman's fist came flying out of nowhere, hitting him square in the gut. He grunted, trying to double over as the wind left him with a hiss, but Colossus' arms held him up. Before he had time to recover, it was followed by a second blow, then a third. Iceman and Pyro were taking turns, jeering and laughing at the sound sounds of pain that Warren was unable to hold back. Colossus said nothing, simply remaining silently behind Warren, keeping him on his feet.
Warren's knees shook as the blows rained down, scoring his chest, his arms, his legs and face with burning, thudding pain. Reflexively, he began to struggle; trying to cower away from the blows, but Peter held him firmly. At some point, Pyro decided it would be fun to heat things up a little, and started shooting searing sparks of fire at Warren's exposed chest and arms.
As the thunder rumbled overhead Warren was slowly but surely loosing consciousness. Having no place else to run, he was retreating into blissful, painless oblivion. At last his knees gave out entirely under him, refusing to support him any longer and he hung limply in Colossus' arms.
Finally, Warren was dimly aware of the blows halting, of Iceman and Pyro backing off a bit.
"Let 'im go," Pyro ordered, and Warren suddenly found himself face first in the grass.
"Your turn, Tin man," Iceman said, his voice a cruel leer.
Again Peter hesitated; he held no malice for the winged mutant curled at his feet, and he didn't understand what the others thought was so bad about him. But he was a quiet type, who rarely voiced his opinions and was much more comfortable just following whatever the others did.
"Go on," Pyro prompted, watching Colossus carefully.
Warren stared up at him, huge blue eyes blurred with pain. He only dimly understood what was going on above him, as the edges of his vision faded into darkness. He was tired, he was in pain, and everything was going numb. But one thing did pierce through the haze around him. They had just told Peter to hit him. He blinked up at the other mutant, who in turn was gazing down at him, their eyes met. Warren stared at him, Peter wouldn't do it, no, Peter wouldn't hit him. He'd seen the other boy when he was alone, seen the way he smiled, Warren knew that he wasn't like them, not really. No, he wouldn't do, Warren was sure.
Colossus gritted his teeth, Pyro and Iceman's goading in his ears, and kicked.
Warren choked, crying out from the sudden flare of pain in his side, and curled up around the spot. Another kick landed, and another. Warren didn't even realize when he started crying. How often had he dreamed of feeling Peter touch him? Well, now he got his wish, and he wished he hadn't.
He no longer heard the voices above him, he hardly noticed when at last the kicking stopped and he was alone again. He simply remain there, on the ground, curled up into as tight a ball as he could manage, as slowly god began to cry.