Good to see you, Brother.

[Flux]

Flux stood at the door to his cell, his nose mere centimeters from the seam between the two sliding doors. He could see through it to the inner-workings of the rotating lock mechanism and beyond, very distantly, the end of the long hall that represented the start of the no-metal zone. He had been beyond those doors twice since his incarceration. Most recently, it was when Klaus Heidegger manipulated him (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=21806&highlight=Terror) into killing a mutant with uncontrollable powers. The time before, it'd been a clearer set-up. He'd been drugged, collared, and dragged out to a small, featureless room with two folding metal chairs and a table. He'd awoken sitting in one chair, feeling groggy and irate.

********

Flux stirred, his head pounding. He groaned as a dark-skinned hand entered his vision, bearing two iburprofen tablets. "Here," offered Dr. Katherine Sumpter, the Prison psychiatrist. "I know how the collar gives you migraines." Flux allowed her to feed him the tablets and give him water, then blinked hard against the harsh white light of the room's only ceiling lamp.

"What the hell? Why even collar me to begin with? All the check-ups and meals come to me. Who could you possibly want to drag me out of the cell to meet?" Sumpter's reply was cut off as the other chair's occupant supplied his own answer.

[The Brotherhood]

In the other chair there sat a glacier. Or maybe it was a man, but from his awesome bulk and the speed he seemed to be moving, it was awfully hard to tell.

Geryon slowly lifted his eyes, which were bloodshot and rheumy, as if he'd taken a hit of something cheap and nasty and synthetic. His large face was listless, and his thick mane of wiry black hair was half-pulled out of its braid and rested on his shoulders like a bird's nest of epic proportions. Closed around his neck was a blinking collar. It had been extended with nylon straps so it could reach all the way around.

"Hey, Felix," the big Samoan mutant said. "Uh-- sorry, it's Flux now, ain't it? It's been a while."

[Flux]

"Heh heh, yeah it is," Flux grinned, raising his head to look across the table at his Brother. "Geryon, as I live and breathe." Flux wobbled a bit in the chair, his balance thrown off from his headache. He looked a little better than Geryon, though not by much. His face had accumulated another week and a half of stubble, his eyes held the same bloodshot quality, and his skin was going a little pale from lack of sunlight. "Good to see you, Brother."

Dr. Sumpter clapped her hands once and then clasped them, an awkward gesture as she shuffled her feet. "Well, I'll leave you two to catch up." And she left.

"I don't think we've seen each other since a week, week and a half before the Bridge? How'd they get you? Was it back in New York, like me?"

[The Brotherhood]

Geryon carefully lifted one massive arm and then the other onto the folding table, which wobbled under their weight. He looked around at the too-bright ceiling and the one-way mirror as if he hadn't noticed the room on the way in.

"No, man, I was in LA," he said. "At the rally, what was it, two days ago? I was just mindin' my own business, watchin' some kids. Bastards shot me with some kind of dart. I think it was Nectar."

He raised one hand in front of his face and wiggled it, as if counting the number of fingers.

"They dosed me up again before they brought me here. Stay off of this stuff, man. It ain't good for you. Ain't good for anything."

[Flux]

Flux didn't know what Nectar was. It must be what they were calling the tranquilizer that all the darts were loaded with.

"Nothing good ever comes out of Jozua Clinic," Flux agreed, following Geryon's eyes to the one-way mirror. "Sucks that they busted you at the Rally. I heard about it from one of the mundanes they set to guard my cell. Figured Jericho'd try some bullshit." He shifted, arms folding as he slouched in his chair. He was sure they were being spied on. He didn't want to give too much away, but wasn't sure how to proceed. He had too many questions to ask. He thought he'd start with a safe one and get some of the boasting that'd been building up inside him out into the open.

"So, what'd you think of the bridge?" he asked with a grin. "Pretty sweet, right?"

[The Brotherhood]

"Yeah, I guess," Geryon said, looking uncomfortable. "I mean, yeah, your powers are sweet. You came a long way from that skinny kid who came to visit the old apartment. Just..."

His broad, expressive face pinched into a frown. "Bit messy for my tastes. All those civvies on the bridge. I'm all for stickin' it to the man, but you really made one hell of a mess."

[Flux]

"Well, yes." It stung that Geryon didn't approve. Heat climbed into Flux's neck, face, and hands. "That's the point. They called me a terrorist, and all I'd done was flee a crime scene--where I didn't even commit a crime--just to keep my identity under wraps. Because I was obligated to try and do something about the crime-rate in the neighborhood." He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on the table.

"They'd have had me locked up even if I hadn't destroyed that bridge and killed those people. Man, I didn't even kill any of them directly! All I did was show them what I could do. What they'd get if a villain was what they really wanted me to be. Mundanes brought it on themselves."

[The Brotherhood]

"Sure they'da locked you up," Geryon said. "For two or three days in county, max, before one of us bailed you out. I've done it before. And you ain't even got a record. Didn't, anyway."

He sighed, and his shoulders sank like heaving ocean waves. He reached up to pull a tangled knot out of his hair. Several long, black strands went floating to the concrete floor.

"You blew up a bridge, for what? 'Cause you got offended? How does that help the cause? We could've used you out there, man."

[Flux]

Flux was beginning to think he'd missed a step somewhere in all the talk about mutants being superior and the way the mundanes needed to be suppressed to make way for the rise of mutantkind.

"Beeeeecause they need to know that we're not to be trifled with?" He paused, then tested a different idea. "That we're not here to be the monsters they want us to be?" He was at a loss. "What would you have had me do?"

[The Brotherhood]

Geryon shook his head. Maybe he was still a kid after all.

"You take the fall," he said. "You think I've never done time before? Better a few days in county than stewin' in mundane Gestapo headquarters. If we really need you, bustin' you out is a cinch. But here?"

He looked up at a glass globe in the ceiling that concealed a camera. Possibly more. He wouldn't put much past Jericho.

[Flux]

"Man, by the time Stern arrested me my powers would've been evident. There's no way they'd have put me in a Mundane prison." He sighed, feeling suddenly like a failure. "Pretty sure I was gonna end up here regardless based on my power set alone. Especially with that crazy mutant rating system they're about to put into law for all the civilian mutants. They're already using it on us in here." It sounded like a fine enough excuse to himself. He tried to change the subject. "What're they rating you at? I got a 5."

[The Brotherhood]

"They didn't tell me," Geryon said with a sniff. Then he glanced back up at the dark glass globe. "Gotta be a six, once they find out I'm the brains of the outfit."

It was weak, as gallows humor went. Geryon typically left the witticisms to Tron and Boomer. But in this place, he'd grasp at whatever straws of comfort he could find. He'd love to tell Flux that help was on the way, that he should pack his bags and listen for the screams and explosions. But the fact was, he didn't know where they sat on the Brotherhood's timetable. He wasn't a mover and shaker like Jane, not a skilled greaseman like Tron. He was dumb muscle, and he was easy to replace. The only reason he'd been transferred to LA was his history with the House.

He drummed his fingers on the table and shook himself from his stupor. "So, how're you holdin' up, man? You stayin' strong?"

[Flux]

The younger teen was grateful for the transition of topic away from the bridge and the Brotherhood's apparent disapproval of it.

"Hell yeah. All I do is work out and read books, which is enough entertainment to tell the truth. Of course, banter with the Clinic doctors is always good. Been calling Heidegger "Picklepuss" ever since my second week here. It's fun to try and make them snap. The guards would be easier pickings if they could hear me through the cell door. What about you? You doing okay?"

[The Brotherhood]

Geryon shrugged. "I only been here a couple days. It's nothin' new. Except the Nectar."

He shuddered then, despite his best efforts. Then he looked up and saw the questioning look on Flux's face.

"Nectar's one of their latest toys," he said. "Some kinda drug they mill in South America. It barely affects mundanes, but for mutants... It'll make your powers go out of control for a couple minutes. Then when you come down, you're powerless for hours. Sucks, man. I don't even know why they gave it to me again. I think they just wanted to see what would happen if I was already wearin' a collar."

[Flux]

I don't think they've dosed me with it, yet," Flux answered thoughtfully. "As near as I can tell, I've had access to my powers every second that I've been conscious. Probably so I can hate how they keep the metal away. Of course, this isn't any better." He rapped on the table and shook his chair. "And the collar stops me from magnetizing its interior components and ruining it, and just ripping the collar off is supposed to induce a coma or some shit."

He paused, knitting his brows pensively.

"Think it's a bluff?"

[The Brotherhood]

"I've tried rippin' 'em off before," Geryon said. "They don't all have failsafes, but the ones that do..." He shook his head again. "If I had to guess, these are live. Only the best for the Brotherhood, right?"

He laughed, though it wasn't the kind of laugh you really enjoyed. "If you want to find out, I could just reach over there and give it a try."

He held out a massive hand, large enough to engulf Flux's head.

[Flux]

"On three, we'll get each other's collars."

Flux's smile took on a new quality, with his jaw sticking out to one side and his eyes narrowed tauntingly. "One, two..."

He didn't move an inch, but security burst in rifles at the ready, drawing down on the mutant boys.

"Damn," he cursed lightly, still wearing his troll face. "Guess they weren't live after all."

"Gentlemen, please," grunted Dr. Sumpter as she slipped her thin frame between them. "It took a lot of work to convince Dr. Heidegger and the prison security officers to let you talk face to face like this. Please don't betray my faith this way."

She sounded pained. Maybe they had hurt her feelings. Flux just kept on grinning.

"U mad, bro?" he quipped at her, shooting Geryon a glance.

[The Brotherhood]

Geryon laughed again, this time for real. He reached closer to Flux, feeling the tension in the air increase like one collective intake of breath before a brawl, and patted the kid gamely on the side of the arm.

"You're all right, Flux," the Samoan mutant said. "Don't let these bozos tell you different."

He drew his arm back and clasped his hands together on the table, grateful for any act of defiance, no matter how small. He'd have loved to sprout an arm from his spine and swipe Jericho's rental goons into a corner like a grizzly bear scattering a pack of wolves, but the collar restricted his options to passive resistance.

"So, doc," he said, "you figure out what's wrong with us yet? We're just dyin' to return to society as peaceful citizens."

[Flux]

Dr. Sumpter pouted, an expression of pensiveness rather than frustration.

"Well, no, I don't suppose I have. Though your disapproval of Felix's actions at the bridge is extremely telling about the connection he's supposed to have with your organization. He's been extremely vocal about it." Flux reddened and became interested in the tabletop. Sumpter continued. "Did you disapprove of his vigilante actions as well, Noah?"

[The Brotherhood]

The smug sneer on Geryon's face evaporated, and he turned glumly back toward the table. The last thing he'd wanted to do was to give Dr. Sumpter or any of these narcs fresh ammunition to use against his brother. He gathered his thoughts together in his drug-hazed mind like boulders in an ancient cairn.

"You know what I disapprove of, doc?" he said at last. "I disapprove of government shills like you tryin' to drive mutants like us apart. Flux is my brother. Do we have disagreements? Sure. But that's family business. It don't concern you or your trained attack dogs."

He lifted his eyes to meet Flux's and nodded, a gesture of approbation. "Mundanes just don't understand. And they never will."

[Flux]

Flux twitched the ghost of a smile onto his face, a thanks for the back-up.

"I don't want to drive a wedge between you and your fellows," said the psychiatrist with a placating tone. "I certainly don't want to attack you. I understand the...paranoia?...with which many mutants regard this place. I really don't want your powers taken away, or to change your identities or try to divide mutantkind and set them against one another. I want to rehabilitate criminals, mutant or not."

"We want equality and safety," Flux grumbled.

"I know," she sighed. "I want that, too, but if the pair of you and your cohorts in the Brotherhood continue as you are, I think it will be very difficult to achieve that."

[The Brotherhood]

You and the Brotherhood. That was right. Because it was always the mutants' fault, wasn't it? It was the mutants' fault they were feared and hated. The mutants' fault that places like the Jozua Clinic existed.

Contempt hardened Geryon's face like iron. He didn't even bother looking back at the psychiatrist.

"If that's what you wanted, Doc," he said, "you wouldn't be workin' in a place like this."

[Flux]

Flux smirked as the doctor deflated.

"Yeah, you totally said that wrong," he smirked, relishing her failure. "Seriously, you're the worst. Go to Mundane Prison and rehab them. We're fine on our own."

The slender Doctor half-smiled. "I suppose you are," she conceded. "Guards, take the boys back to their rooms so they can be on their own." Plastic rifles braced on shoulders as three pairs of guards moved to flank the prisoners. Two produced handcuffs to bind the mutants arms.

"Well!" Flux said with a mockingly chipper tone. "This has been fucktons of fun. Visitation sure is swell." Flux stood respectfully. The guards reacted, but didn't subdue him. Yet. "See you again soon, Brother."

[The Brotherhood]

"See you," Geryon replied with a lazy salute. "I don't think I'm gettin' up. That drug's doin' a number on my head. I think I'll let these goons drag me out of here. They could use the exercise."

The immense Samoan mutant grinned at the guards on either side of him.

"Stay real, Brother. We won't be in here for long."

[Flux]

Flux returned the salute with a gesture like touching the brim of a hat. "Always," was his reassurance to the Samoan. "See you on the outside."

********

It'd been many months since that day. They'd not been allowed to visit again. Flux supposed that it was because the Center had decided they'd learned all they could from that one interaction, or else Sumpter hadn't been granted permission to continue observing them or to try group therapy.

Since then he'd only seen two other mutants: Rosanna Hughes, the enormous biological terror, and Banner, his we'll-see-how-this-works-out girlfriend. The pair of guards, ordinarily stationed back-to-back to guard from threats outside and inside the terrorist's prison cell, were both standing watching him. He'd not moved for several minutes.

"BOO!" Flux reared up at them through the door, his face a mask of hate. The guards jumped and pounded the door, cursing him and ordering him to go sit down. Flux obstinately held his ground, looking past them to the end of the no-metal zone. Beyond those doors, his Brothers, Sisters, and freedom. "Soon," Flux vowed.