Misfitted

 

Battle was chaotic. That was in its very nature and fabric. But with mutants, the chaos multiplied…exponentially.

 

Logan wiped sweat out of his eyes and looked around, sharp eyesight noting where everyone on the field was. Sabretooth was down, thanks to Cyke and his eyerays. Misfit was currently trying to control one of the new mutants Magneto had brought to the fight, some white haired kid who was running rings around everyone else. He turned as he heard a familiar British chuckle.

 

“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello, and wot do we ‘ave ‘ere?”

 

“You’re meant to be dead,” Logan told the green skinned mutant bluntly. Toad just grinned, spreading his hands slightly, bo held ready in one hand.

 

“Oh, we’re all meant ter be a lot of things, Wolverine. Yer meant ter be an out of control animal, but ‘ere yer are. Nicely muzzled for Baldie.”

 

With an enraged snarl, Logan leapt for Toad, claws swiping around in a deadly arc. The other mutant merely jumped out of range and brought his bo staff around in retaliation, hitting Logan on the head. Which the older one merely shook off and started to stalk Toad across the street.

 

“Vatch out!” A loud yell in a German accented voice and Logan hit dirt, rolling over to see the white haired speedster smirking at him and tapping a length of pipe against one hand.

 

“So slow. You’re all so veryveryvery slow to me.”

 

BAMF!

 

Kurt teleported in, grabbed the surprised Brotherhood member by his waist and started to port out. Toad’s tongue grabbed the blue furred mutant’s ankle and Logan reached out for Toad, gripping his shoulder to make him let go and bringing the claws around to gut the ugly green skinned mutant.

 

Meanwhile, in a universe only a stone’s throw away, Forge smiled nervously at the professor as he prepared to start his new machine.

 

“It will work this time, I know it will.”

 

“Let us see,” Xavier said calmly, and the teen flipped the switch.

 

BAMF!

 

Kurt cried out in shock as something *grabbed* him in the middle of his teleport and pulled him through, bringing all the others in contact with him. Logan struck out blindly, hitting the white haired man’s chest and gripping the front of his spandex uniform tightly in one closed fist. Quicksilver ducked his head and held onto the teleporter tightly, while Toad somehow managed to wind in closer to the group, holding on with a death grip as around them the universe seemingly went mad.

 

And then they were elsewhere.

 

Forge looked at the professor as the machine whined, smoked a little and then died with an electronic scream.

 

“Guess I’ll have to try again. That didn’t work.”

 

“Indeed…” Xavier wheeled carefully out of the workshop, leaving Forge to tinker mournfully with his deceased machine.

 

Kurt moaned, then rolled over onto his side and vomited weakly. He felt like he’d been turned inside out and then back the right side out again during the spin cycle of a washing machine. He could hear from the sounds around him that the other passengers on this impromptu trip were not feeling that much better. Logan was the first to recover, due to his healing factor and was up on his feet quickly. Looking around, he could see that they were emphatically not where they left. Toad groaned, getting to his feet with the aid of his bo staff.

 

“Wot the fock ‘appened?”

 

“I would second that question, but in a more refined manner,” Quicksilver said.

 

“Elf, are you alright?” Logan asked, worried in his voice as the teleporter kept retching feebly, on his hands and knees and head hanging down like a dog. “Do you know what happened?”

 

“Nein…it was like something grabbed me in the middle of the port. And then we were here.  Ach, de lieber Gott, mein head…” Kurt threw up again, more seriously affected then his passengers. “Logan, where are we?”

 

“I do not have the faintest clue. You two have any idea?” Logan demanded to know, fixing the two Brotherhood members with a glare. Toad shrugged and started patting down his pockets for his smokes. Quicksilver just stood there, arms crossed and watching things play out.

 

“No idea, mate,” Toad drawled in his heavy accent, before he finally found his cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth, flicking his lighter for some flame. “So, truce for the moment? Least until we can get back. No one knows wot the fuck happened, and until we do, we might as well be on our own.” He lit his cigarette and drew back on it thankfully, dragging nicotine laden smoke into his lungs.

 

“I think that would be best,” Quicksilver said calmly. “I’ll explain the circumstances to my father on our return. I think he will agree that it was better we work together; in spite of our ideological differences.”

 

“So, what is your deal anyway? Where the hell did you come from?” Logan asked, determined on getting some answers on somethings that had been puzzling him. Kurt had finished throwing up and Logan rubbed his teammate’s back soothingly.

 

“Danke schon, Logan.” Kurt wiped his mouth and then cleaned his hand off on the grass, leaning back onto his heels and squatting. His tail lashed from side to side slightly, afraid yellow eyes brimming with bewilderment.

 

“He’s Magneto’s little sprog, in’t he?” Toad sneered. “Turns up out of the blue, no warning, and what ho, lads, here’s the boss’s son and daughter. Play nice and do wot they tell yer, or I’m gonner kick yer arse.”

 

“I am perfectly capable of standing my own ground against you, *Toad*,” Quicksilver said coldly.

 

“Yew just keep telling yerself that,” Toad said dismissively. “Right, we better get out of sight. Blue there is more then a little obvious, and the three of yer are all dressed up like secret services or summat.” Logan nodded; it was true. He and Kurt were both dressed in the black jumpsuit uniforms of the X-Men, and the white haired man from the Brotherhood was dressed similarly, but in green and silver. Toad was the only one dressed in street clothes, and the mutant was already bringing forward the hood of his sweatshirt to help hide his green skin from view. “After all, we don’t know how the people ‘ere think about mutants. Best to be safe then sorry, is wot me old mum used ter always say.”

 

“What, besides that’ll be a pound for a hand job?” Quicksilver said crudely. Toad glared at him and flipped him two fingers.

 

“Focking bite me, Speedy.” Toad shoved his hands into his pockets. “Best we start walking and look for something resembling civilisation.” Logan nodded and helped Kurt to his feet, putting one arm around the other to help him stay upright. The German moaned softly, closing his eyes.

 

“Danke, Logan…oh Gott, I feel so sick.”

 

“Well, whatever it was tapped into your powers. It’s no wonder you were the hardest hit.” Logan breathed in deeply, scenting the air for scents other then their own. “That way. Let’s go.”

 

The group of four set off in the direction Logan had indicated. Quicksilver zooming ahead, waiting and bitching about how slow they were, Toad walking in an easy lope that looked slightly wrong due to the extended length of his legs compared to his upper body, and Logan supporting one very dazed and sick blue demon. Logan’s ear twitched as he heard the sounds of fighting up ahead…and then he smelt some rather familiar scents. But different, somehow.

 

The four older mutants paused, looking down into a scene of battle. With some very familiar looking combatants. A boy with a visor. A blue demon in a uniform. A girl with one hand to her head, red hair falling across her face. A white haired boy. A kid who was currently using a long tongue to trip up one of the people in uniform. Familiar, but not.

 

“Hello, Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” Quicksilver remarked, looking down. Toad nodded, watching the fight.

 

“Question is…whose side are we on?”

 

“No one’s,” Logan snapped. “We don’t know what’s going on. But I think we should find out.”

 

“Logan, bitte…” Kurt blinked yellow eyes, watching the action below. “Is it just me, or does my counterpart have *fur*?”

 

“They’re younger then we are,” Toad mused. “Wot say we go down and make ourselves known? Oh, I *like* that kid!” he crowed as the one he’d correctly tagged as an alternate version of himself, at least in powers, yanked the Cyclops double off his feet and onto his ass. Without another word, he leapt from the hillside and the cover of the trees to the middle of the conflict. Logan snarled and then started down as well, the fighters pausing in shock.

 

“Toad, you have such lack of style,” Quicksilver sighed, appearing next to the other Brotherhood member.

 

“Oh, I ‘ave a style, pretty boy,” Toad snapped back. “Pity yer only ‘ave the one yer pinched from N*Sync.”

 

“Lies, damnable lies,” Quicksilver said, putting a hand over his heart. “And what, exactly, do we have here? Besides one puking teleporter, his less then friendly sidekick and younger versions of the people whose asses we were kicking back where we were?”

 

“Ah, confused?” Nightcrawler said, raising his hand.

 

“Same, yo,” Todd said slowly, watching the older Toad.

 

“Excuse me, but who are you people?” Scott asked.

 

“Ah, just like the Cyke we love to hate, you also do not deal well with unexpected surprises,” the older Quicksilver said dryly. “Why is it, I wonder, both versions have flagpoles stuck up their asses?”

 

“Enduring trait,” Toad snickered. “Anyway, mates…this is the deal. We’re all fighting, me and the noble white haired one over there, versus Claws and his blue companion, because of ‘ideological differences’.” He made quote marks with his fingers. “And then Blue Boy goes to ‘port and poof! We’re here.”

 

“Excuse me,” Kurt said weakly and let go of Logan to dry heave, dropping to his hands and knees once more.

 

“Misfit, are ya gonna be alright?” Logan asked worriedly.

 

“In a moment, liebechen,” the blue skinned mutant said weakly. “The sickness, it does not leave.” He retched again, shoulders shuddering as his body revolted against the misuse of his powers. “It is worse then when I had to teleport so many of das Kinder at Alkali Lake.”

 

“Liebechen?!” Nightcrawler said in horrified tones. Logan glared at the younger version of his lover and raised an eyebrow.

 

“You got a problem, Fuzzy? If so, come over here and I can explain to ya why bigotism amongst mutants doesn’t apply. Three times.” The claws slid out; one, two, three. “The fourth explanation is *where* I put the first three reasons.”

 

Meanwhile, the younger version of the Brotherhood version were laughing, and pointing at the flabbergasted Nightcrawler. Logan’s steely gaze swung to regard them as well, and they shut up quickly.

 

“What the hell is going on here?”

 

Toad looked up at the repetition of voices, and then almost died laughing at Wolverine’s costume.

 

“Oh my giddy aunt! What is it with you guys and SPANDEX? At least my version is wearing clothes and not a bondage costume!”

 

Both Logan and Wolverine growled. Toad was too busy rolling around on the ground laughing to pretend indifference or terror at their tone. Quicksilver put one hand in front of his mouth to hide his own laughter. Kurt was too busy being sick again to take any notice. Logan opened the jacket of his uniform, and then used one of his claws to slice away a length of cloth, giving it to Kurt.

 

“Wipe your mouth on this, Elf.”

 

Kurt took it and did as he was told, before wearily getting to his feet again. “Danke. Is there somewhere else ve can go? I’m feeling a little exposed here…”

 

“Same,” Toad said, before he went over to his younger counterpart. “So, wot’s yer name, lad?”

 

“Todd. Todd Tolensky,” Todd said warily. Toad grinned, extending his hand to be shaken.

 

“Call me Toad; I refuse ter answer ter the name me old mum gave me. It’s horrid. So, yer a Yank. It’s pretty saddening ter find out.” He heaved a melodramatic sigh. “I’ll just have ter do summat about that.”

 

“Like what?” Quicksilver asked with disdain.

 

“Brit Slang 101, o’course,” Toad said. “Wot else? We’re probably gonner be stuck here for a while; might as well have fun while we’re waiting around ter get back. If we ever do.”

 

“Excellent point,” Quicksilver mused.

 

Logan let Kurt curl into him, the blue skinned man’s eyes closed and face tucked into the curve of the other man’s neck.

 

“If you’re X-Men, which I’m gathering by the large X’s on your uniforms,” Logan said bluntly, looking at the teens who were actually in a standard uniform. “Can we go back to the Institute and talk to Chuck? Xavier,” he corrected himself. He could feel Kurt’s unsteady panting warm on his skin, the soft cadenced rise and fall of a Hail Mary in German reaching his ears. The elf needed a doctor. Now. “Kurt needs a doctor.”

 

“What do you think, Wolverine?” Scott said, turning to the glowering older man. The Brotherhood mutants were talking amongst themselves, swapping stories and points of interest. Toad’s chuckle could be heard clearly at different points. “Should we believe them?”

 

“The fuck I care if you believe me or not,” Logan snapped. “If Xavier’s here, he can read our minds to find out what the hell happened. What I’m concerned about at the moment is getting Kurt to a doctor before he starts throwing up blood.”

 

“Thank you for that delightful image, mein Teuerste,” Kurt said dryly, before biting at Logan’s ear. Hard. The wound healed over in seconds as Kurt licked his lips clean of blood.

 

“Don’t make advances you can’t keep at the moment,” Logan warned, almost instantly hard. “So, can we go?”

 

“Here, we’re going with this lot,” Toad said, looking at Logan. “Apparently *that* one,” he nodded at Lance, who looked uncomfortable, “was dating an X’er, so he has the phone number for the Institute. We’ll be in contact, Claws.”

 

“Alright, Xavier can decide what to do with you,” Wolverine growled, after a few moments of thought. “Let’s go.” Back stiff, he gathered the young X-Men and walked off. Logan and Kurt trailed after, while Quicksilver and Toad left with the Brotherhood.

 

To be continued...

 

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