Log: JP, Piotr, X, Erik, & Logan! Characters: JP Martin, Piotr Rasputin, Logan. NPCs: Charles Xavier, Erik Lensherr. Location: The Danger Room. Timeline: Monday, 31 January, 1976. Evening-ish. Description: JP is “beaten in” to the gang. It is painful, and not just for him. Rating: High-ish for violence and blood and stuff.
It was (probably) a good thing for Piotr that JP trusted him nearly absolutely by now; it meant that he didn’t question just where Piotr was taking him tonight until they were well underway. Piotr’s silence and the stony look on his face made JP hesitant even to ask, but he was sitting turned halfway in the seat of Piotr’s car, watching the big man’s face while he drove for any clues to their destination.
“Pete?” he ventured finally, after the silence had stretched on for a few minutes longer than he liked. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Usually Piotr would at least give him the basic rundown of their jobs on the way there, and this silence was unusual even for Piotr, who didn’t tend to talk much most of the time anyway. It made JP a little uncomfortable, and he shifted in his seat, sliding his hands under his thighs to keep from fidgeting with his fingers.
---
“No,” Piotr replied evenly. He wasn’t trying to frighten JP, but it also wasn’t his place to issue a warning about what was about to happen. Piotr had warned him all he could about what it would be like, and he had made the choice to continue on this path. There was nothing more Piotr could do to prepare him. There was nothing that would make this day any easier for JP. Or for Piotr.
“But you are smart. Think, and you will figure it out,” Piotr added, still not looking over at JP. He knew what was coming, and though he’d known this initiation would be far more personal for him than any other, he still had not quite expected to feel so... reluctant. But bruises healed. Skin grew back together. Scars were not so bad. Piotr had many of them.
Unless JP did something very stupid today, he would live through this. He would not enjoy it, but he would survive it. And though Piotr would hate every moment of it, he would do what was expected of him. That was how this worked.
---
The curtness of that answer made JP pause, but he did as he was instructed and thought about it. Really, he didn’t consider himself smart, but that Piotr evidently thought he was would have been enough to make him preen a little if he’d been more comfortable with the situation. As it was, he was quiet for a few moments, mulling over Piotr’s words like they were clues to some important mystery.
Since Piotr usually gave him as much information as he would need when they went together to handle a business transaction, JP was fairly sure that it couldn’t be anything as ordinary as a meeting with one of the men Piotr dealt with. And it couldn’t be anything personal, because when they were just spending time together unrelated to work, Piotr got more open with him, not less.
“The Brotherhood,” he said after a few moments of consideration, and glanced up at Piotr, watching him carefully with his eyes just a little bit wide. That tonight was going to be his induction into the gang was the only thing that made sense. It wasn’t like he was surprised by the thought, especially since Piotr had already taken him to meet the man called X, the cornerstone of the gang. JP’d known for a while that it was Piotr’s intention to bring him into the Brotherhood, like JP had told him he wanted. But knowing all that and actually going there were two different things, especially since he remembered all too well his induction into the Cell Combattre -- his first experience handling the cell’s preferred homemade explosives, during which he’d been certain that the bomb he’d been made to handle would go off at any minute. This was bound to be less terrifying, he thought, if only because Piotr would be there, and he trusted the big man with his life these days.
Still, he was quiet, biting at his lower lip as he looked out the window and turned over all the thoughts in his head. He wasn’t nervous, not exactly, but he wasn’t confident, either.
---
As JP put it together, Piotr didn’t see the point in denying it. He nodded, confirming JP’s guess, and shifting slightly in his seat. He wasn’t to let JP know what was going to happen, he knew that, but there was something else he had to say.
“It is important that you do not waver today,” Piotr instructed, voice soft. It was important. If JP wavered, if JP doubted Piotr or forgot the trust they had built between them in light of his initiation, then it could end in disaster. For both of them. “Obeschaĭ mne.”
The request for JP to promise him was not given out of any sense of doubt in JP. It was because Piotr did not want to see him hurt any more than was necessary, and because he knew that what was about to happen wasn’t exactly something that would inspire JP to trust him. Or any of them. That was the point, of course, but Piotr couldn’t help but wonder how it would affect their friendship.
---
JP nodded, not even pausing to think about what he was promising. It had to be all in or nothing in, right now, and he knew where he was going to lay his hand. “I won’t,” he promised, and gave Piotr a little smile. “I promise. Ya obeshchayu.” He had at least one Russian phrase graven into his memory, since it seemed so important to Piotr that he know that one.
It was easier to promise things to Piotr than it was to anyone else, anyway. JP trusted in Piotr’s word absolutely, and he was determined to make himself just as trustworthy in Piotr’s eyes. He wouldn’t waver, wouldn’t hold back from whatever was necessary to become one of the Brotherhood, and all that was mostly because of Piotr.
So he sat up straight, tipping his chin up to present a determined front. “I’m ready,” he told Piotr. “I can do whatever it is.” He assumed that it had to be some kind of task, something to prove that he had the heart to stand with the gang under dangerous circumstances, but what that task could be, JP had not a clue. Still, he’d shot a gun, he’d killed a man, he’d dealt with a body. Whatever this was, it probably wouldn’t be as difficult as that had been.
---
“Good,” Piotr said, and offered JP a small smile of encouragement. “You will be fine.”
It was, perhaps, an empty platitude, but in the end, once this was all finished, JP would be fine. Piotr would make sure of it.
They were almost there now, and Piotr kept his eyes on the road as he pulled in and parked. He didn’t waste any time getting out of the vehicle. JP said he was ready, then he was ready. Putting it off would only be delaying the inevitable. The sooner they began, the sooner they’d be finished. Piotr waited for JP to get out of the vehicle and then he headed towards the building. Headquarters. It would be JP’s first time inside, but it would not be the last.
Pushing the door open, Piotr paused then to let JP pass. He ducked his head as JP drew close, and though his words were only directions, Piotr’s tone was supportive as he said, “Up the hall. To the right. Down to the basement.”
---
More than anything, JP was intensely curious about this place Piotr’d brought him to. Meeting place? Somebody’s home? He had no idea, and his interest kept him from thinking too much about being nervous or intimidated as he followed Piotr to the door.
He glanced up at the big man as he passed through, answering his directions with a nod. Even though JP didn’t really like basements -- enclosed spaces, underground, with nowhere to run, they were the exact opposite of his preferences for height and space and air. Well, he wouldn’t need to run today, and even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t. That would destroy any chance he had at getting in with the Brotherhood, and he was doubly sure now that was what he wanted.
So JP just followed the directions, conscious of Piotr’s presence at his back as he turned the corner and went down the steps into the basement. He didn’t know what to expect, but feeling Piotr there kept him steady, at least.
---
"Come on! Come on!" Erik heckled his partner, X, who was in the middle of a set of bench presses. Wolverine was no where to be found at the moment. The man was elusive, like the mist, but that was alright. He was the best and earned the right to come and go and they knew if it came down to it, on Wolverine they could depend. In the meantime, Erik and X had taken to amusing themselves on the exercises equipment and had proposed a friendly challenge in the interim while they waited for the others to join them. It was mostly to blow off a little steam - tonight would be tense and physically taxing.
So, it was a five buck bet: could Erik bench more than X? No powers of course.
Erik was standing off to the side slightly not really needing to be right there to accomplish the task of spotter. He could easily stand some distance away, what with his unique gift as master of magnetism and did so, while smoking a cigarette, ready to jump in case X needed a hand.
"Shut...the..fffffuck...up!" Came the belabored response as X grunted and growled in his own right, struggling to complete the last rep and return the bar to its stand. After that he let out a sigh and just laid there for a moment letting his arms rest. Here, now, X's eyes drifted back into his head as he picked up two minds that were slowly approaching the building and would be soon to enter and head into the basement. "They're here," he muttered, announcing JP and Piotr's arrival and standing. He closed the distance to where Erik had been standing and snatched the bill out of his hand.
"Good. I'm ready for fresh -- hey.”
X just shrugged. “I benched more than you did,” he offered in explanation. “Just shh,” he interrupted Erik who had began to protest and just tipped his head towards the door Piotr and JP were there.
---
JP glanced back at Piotr just once before pushing the door at the bottom of the steps open and entering the room. His first few steps were slow and cautious, taking in the surroundings and the men who were waiting there. It wasn’t quite what he had expected -- a gym? But this was obviously the right place.
He was careful to keep his face as empty of any emotions as he could, not showing his uncertainty, as he walked forward. The presence of X and his partner, the man JP knew was called Magneto even if he’d never met him before, made the big room more intimidating than it would have been otherwise, but Piotr was behind him and that kept him going. He kept his spine straight and his head high, and he didn’t say a word as he moved toward the two men in the center of the gym.
---
Instead of watching JP as he often did, Piotr watched X and Erik for their reactions. Or for any indication he was to begin. He noticed Logan wasn’t there, and felt a little glad at that. Though it might mean he would be expected to do both his part and Logan’s, he also knew the other man was a ruthless fighter. Piotr trusted Logan, of course, but he also felt protective enough of JP that he would be glad for the extra control, however conflicted he felt about it.
He didn’t say anything in greeting, just nodded, and then moved to lean against a wall, arms crossed and expression serious. He’d let Chuck and Erik take the lead here. It was their call how much got explained to JP before they started, their call whether they waited for Logan, and their call as to who was to begin.
---
X and Erik nodded to Piotr in kind. Then for a long time there was silence until it was broken by the sound of Magneto's zippo lighter closing in his hand before slipping it into his pocket. X had already met the kid when he gave him the assignment of covering up those unsightly Friends of Humanity tags that were creeping up here and there around their borders (those fuckers.) Erik still had yet to observe the new recruit, however. Sure, he trusted X’s judgment but there were things he had to make sure of before accepting someone --anyone-- into their Brotherhood, that was for sure.
"This the kid?" Erik wanted to know, closing the distance while X hung in the background pocketing his brand new, crisp five dollar bill. He didn't bother to wait for an answer before addressing JP. "You're the speedster, right? What's your name? Why do you want to hang with us?" His head was tipped back as he watched the boy with a scrupulous eye, over the point of his noise, intimidating factor high.
“You do what we asked?” Referring the to assignment he was given. “What’d you see?”
---
The silence had JP tense, though he did his best not to show it and to stay still even while every nerve was on edge. It was almost a relief when he was questioned, because at least then he could answer and not have to just stand there and be looked at. “I’m -- JP,” he said, standing as tall as he could, which wasn’t very tall, but at least it made him feel like he was presenting a good front. “JP Martin.”
He was fairly certain that didn’t actually count as a lie, since that was the name he went by and no one around here called him anything else, except for Piotr and Jeanne-Marie, and as far as he was concerned, ‘Jean-Paul’ was the false name. In his life here, anyway, he was JP Martin.
JP ducked his head a little in acknowledgement. “I did the paint,” he confirmed, with a little flash of pride -- it had been easy, at least relatively so, and his speed had certainly helped a lot. “I saw some of them -- the taggers, the humans. I got to one of the corners when they were just going. They didn’t see me, though,” he added, and despite himself, his lips turned up a little in a satisfied smile. He’d done a good job, all things considered, and he liked to take pride in what he did.
The other question was the more difficult one, and JP took a breath before responding. He’d had this discussion with Piotr once, and had been more exhaustively honest with him than he really wanted to be with anyone else. But it needed an answer, and a good one, and he looked up to meet Erik’s eyes squarely. “I want to join with you because I can use what I have for something more than what I’ve done with it till now,” he said, taking care not to talk too fast and let the words tumble over each other, like he tended to do when he was nervous. “I want to. I want to make this place better for -- for mutants. And no one else is doing that but you.”
---
Piotr couldn’t help but feel somewhat proud of JP as well. The boy’s answers were good, so far, and it took some effort for Piotr to be keep from smiling. He did catch Chuck’s eye, and though his expression was kept carefully blank, he was thinking of what JP had told him, of how Piotr had come to the decision to recommend JP for the Brotherhood. He didn’t expect X and Erik to go by his opinion and his opinion alone, but Piotr knew they valued it to some degree, and Piotr’s belief in JP wasn’t completely biased. JP did good work, and that was fact regardless of how Piotr felt for him.
---
Erik kind of gave a wry sort of smile over at X, "Kid thinks I mean his slave name." He snorted a bit, "Ah that's cute," before facing forward again. "No, man, I mean your name. Your mutant name. What we're suppose to call you," he explained. "Magneto, X," he tipped his head in the direction for Charles. "Colossus," he lifted his chin to indicate Piotr. "That is your real name. I don't give a fuck what it says on your birth certificate."
He wasn’t finished, of course, there was a lot more that he had to say. Sure, it was all well and dandy that he wanted to do something for mutants and police the streets and protect their kind from the serious threats that imposed on them every single day. What it came down to was whether or not this kid was a dreamer or a doer and of that Magneto had to be sure. “Listen. I don’t want no punks on my gang. I don’t want someone who’s gonna turn tail the first sign of fight when some goon comes at you with a baseball bat. Look, we don’t fuck around. This isn’t kids shit. This is do or die. And the colors? They demand loyalty. For life.” So adamant in his belief that as he spoke he used his hands and actually pointed to the ground to accent his point.
“So what’ll it be?” Erik wanted to know. “Are you with us...?” Here he trailed off and let JP fill in the rest of that old tome.
---
JP actually flushed a little at Erik’s clear amusement over his introduction, and he couldn’t help but glance over at Piotr, just for a fraction of a second, before returning his gaze to the gang leaders. “I don’t have a name like that,” he answered after a moment. He didn’t even know how you’d get a ‘mutant name’... was it the kind of thing that someone else had to pick out for you, or did you choose it on your own? JP kicked himself that he’d never asked Piotr about that, but there was no use in wishing he’d prepared better now.
But the other issue was firmer ground for him, and he tipped his chin up, making himself look as strong and tough as he could -- which wasn’t very, but at the least, it was a good effort. “I’m with you,” he said, quiet but clear, and he took a half-step forward, so intent on showing these men that he was as serious as they wanted him to be that he forgot the intimidation factor. “I’ve been working with P-- with Colossus for a while now, and he can tell you. I don’t get scared. I don’t run. Maybe I’m not the biggest or the strongest, but I can stand my ground as well as anybody.”
---
The door pushed open to reveal Logan, who paused there in the doorway, scraping his boots on the jamb. He silently took the scene in, the new kid faced with X and Magneto, Piotr backing him up. The air was hot, spiked with the unmistakable scent of adrenaline, to Wolverine’s nose at least.
Stepping into the room, Logan let the door swing shut with a bang. Sliding off to one side of the room, Logan leaned against a wall, crossing his arms. He knew, and the gang knew, his job in this. He wasn’t going to ask any questions. He left the thinking up to X. But if you wanted to join the toughest gang in MT, you were going to find out how it felt to get beat down by the toughest member of the gang. It was the best way Logan could think of to weed out the weak. Nobody in Mutant Town wanted Logan wailing on them, but the ones who could get up and look him in the eye afterward, he could call them brother.
---
As JP assured Erik that he was in, that he was with them, Piotr couldn’t help but nod grimly. If there was one thing that Piotr didn’t have any doubt about, it was the fact that JP wasn’t scared, and he was willing to do do whatever it took. He’d killed a man, and gotten rid of the body, and he had not questioned the necessity of it. Piotr trusted Jean-Paul as much as he’d ever trusted anyone, and he’d proven over the past few months that he deserved that trust. Though X could see that in Piotr’s head if he cared to look, just as he could see everything, Erik could not and it was for his sake and JP’s that Piotr spoke.
“He is loyal, and he can be counted on. He would never run from a fight unless he was told to run,” Piotr assured Erik, but he hoped JP was listening too. Don’t run. Even when it was Logan’s turn.
Now that Logan was here, Piotr nodded at him in greeting as well. He would always be respectful to Logan. The man had earned that, and more, from Piotr over the years. Even if Piotr wouldn’t enjoy watching Logan’s part in JP’s initiation. Beat ins were never something Piotr enjoyed, because violence wasn’t something that appealed to him, and though there was no question that he was going to do his part, he’d never quite dreaded it the way he did now.
---
Piotr's words, his endorsement, caused Erik to pause in consideration. After he thought about it for a minute and what that meant -- that Piotr had now spoken for JP and was more or less responsible for him, to Erik at least. “We’ll see... we’ll see...” was the last thing he said from turning his back to them and meandering back to where X had been standing. He snapped his fingers and called forth his gift using it to retrieve a loose chain from a punching bag that was lying in the corner unused. The chain stood at attention before zipping over to JP, grabbing him by the wrists and stringing him up in place of the heavy bag.
Erik, himself, plunked down on the weight set formerly occupied by X. “Piotr,” he said simply, inviting the other man to have the first crack.
---
The vote of confidence from Piotr had JP almost glowing, and he would have grinned if it weren’t for the presence of the other men. The praise sent a pleased rush through him anyway, even as he twisted a little to catch sight of the man who’d come in. He knew that one by name and reputation -- the Wolverine, well known around town as a bruiser even if he wasn’t all that big. Still, his presence wasn’t enough to dispel that surge of confidence, ready for whatever was coming next, and he looked back at Erik squarely.
...Just in time to give an undignified, surprised yelp at the feeling of cold metal around his wrists, pulling his arms up over his head even as he struggled to break free. There was a moment of pure panic at being caught, and he reacted like an animal in a trap: jerked hard at the chain, kicking out with his legs instinctively to try to slip out of the metal, even if it meant hurting his wrists and hands in the process. But the chain was tight around his wrists, and all his speed didn’t give him any extra strength to pull out of the bonds; JP was well and truly trapped, and his eyes were huge as he whipped around to look to Piotr for help or at least some kind of explanation or assurance.
---
That Piotr’s name was spoken, that he had to go first, made Piotr frown, and when JP looked to him that way, it only made Piotr’s expression sour further. He didn’t hesitate. He turned to face JP and without any indication to what was about to happen, he raised his hand and punched JP hard in the face.
He hadn’t gone metal, but there was still no give in his fist. There was no give, and no way he was going to go easy on JP. That would only cause problems for both of them in the long run, so he didn’t pause and give JP time to recover before he punched him next in the stomach. He wanted to reassure him, but obviously he couldn’t. He’d said all he could before this had started, and he just hoped JP remembered. At the very least Piotr didn’t let himself look away. He watched JP’s face as he hit him, perhaps in the hopes that JP wouldn’t forget that he could trust Piotr, or perhaps as a form of punishment for himself, so he could watch JP’s inevitable reactions to what was happening.
---
For a moment, even as Piotr’s fist smashed into his face and his head snapped back at the force of it, JP couldn’t understand what was going on. He only registered shock, and more slowly the pain blossoming hot on his jaw and cheek, and he wasn’t quick enough even to try to dodge the next blow. It knocked the breath from him and would have sent him flying if he hadn’t been trapped in place by the floating metal chain. There was blood in his mouth and his face was on fire and he couldn’t breathe, and that was all he could feel for that one moment.
Then time sped up again, and he gasped for breath and looked into Piotr’s face, his expression unguarded for once. JP was shocked and startled and really frightened, less from the blows and more from being trapped in place like this, and that it was Piotr who was doing this to him sent a cold spike of betrayal into his gut. He didn’t have the breath to cry out or to express his confusion, but he couldn’t just hang here like a punching bag and take it. JP swung his legs up, kicking out at Piotr with all the speed and strength he could muster while he was winded and hurting like this. He couldn’t hope to hurt the big man, not really, but if he could only get up enough speed to make Piotr stumble, it would give him a moment to try to figure out what to do.
---
That JP fought back meant only that Piotr took the sharp, fast, painful kick to his shin and then turned metal, because it would be expected of him not to let JP hurt him when he was fully capable of preventing it. His hits would hurt more now, but that didn’t mean he could let up. He leaned in slightly to punch JP in the gut a few times in quick succession, one hand splayed on the boy’s shoulder to keep him in place even though the chains did that job well enough. Without pausing, he stepped back just a little to hit JP in the face again, but this time it was a powerful, solid backhand across the jaw.
He had seen the expression on JP’s face, and perhaps that hit was more to knock that look off of it. He didn’t want to see JP scared of him, and he also didn’t want the others to see too much fear there either.
---
So as to not interrupt the ritualistic beating that was taking place, Erik motioned X closer so that he might speak lowly to him. “Looks like we got a live one,” he whispered, through the smoke of a cigarette. He nodded absently to his friend’s assessment.
“What does he know?” Erik asked.
X leaned in and kept his hand at his chin, giving it a rub as he observed. “He knows he’s afraid.”
“Then he’s smart, too.”
---
It had been dumb to think that he could really make Piotr do anything, no matter how fast he was. The big man was just too solid, and obviously much more experienced at fighting than JP was, and all he had done was make Piotr turn metal. He’d seen it before, but he’d never had those metal fists flying toward him. If JP had only been free to move, he could have avoided the punches without much difficulty, but as it was he couldn’t do much more than try to dodge away as best he could.
The blows to his stomach had him gasping for air, though that hurt more than breathing had ever hurt before, and left him feeling sick but without the breath to retch or cough. Still, JP did his best to avoid those big hard fists, moving his body at near-blurring speeds, even if with his arms trapped he couldn’t move far enough in any direction for that to be very effective.
That backhand to his jaw left him half-stunned. JP crumpled, his head hanging down and struggling to stay on his feet. He didn’t have the breath to say anything or to make a sound, except for the harsh rasp of his breath as he gasped for air.
---
"Alright that's enough," X tipped his head toward Erik, keeping the scene he was witnessing in his periphery.
Magneto conceded if only because he wanted a go and not for concern of JP, their new recruit's safety. What was it to him if he landed in the hospital? Moira would patch him up and he'd be back on his feet either with the knowledge that he was one of them, or with the fear to get the heck out of dodge.
The next punch Piotr went to land was halted by Erik, hand up and at the ready, holding his very metal fist back with his mutation.
---
The spoken command was enough to halt Piotr’s fist, so Erik’s intervention wasn’t really necessary, but Piotr just nodded at them and stepped back, turning back to skin and bone so Erik had no more hold on him, at least not beyond the metal of his watch, and then stepped back. The next part would be even harder, watching Logan and Erik take their turns.
He just leaned back against the wall, saying nothing as he crossed his arms over his chest and watched JP, his expression unreadable.
---
Erik dropped his cigarette to the ground and ground it out with the toe of his boot before hauling himself up onto his feet. He shrugged out of his leather coat, draping it over the weight bench before crossing the distance to where JP was hanging, slumped over for the minute. He rotated his shoulder around in its socket and and swung his head back and forth causing it to snap and pop in several places. “Hey, wake up!” He shouted and slapped JP around a little bit to get his attention.
“You can’t pass out now,” he almost grinned. “The fun is just getting started.” A couple more sharp slaps had Erik shifting on his feet, nearly bouncing back and forth as if he was actually boxing someone and not just wailing on a chained victim. He was quick and brutal, landing a solid punch in JP’s side, just below the rib cage, in the soft meat-y portion left unprotected.
---
The brief respite when Piotr stepped away gave JP just enough time to try to find his footing, to spit the blood out of his mouth and look up at the other men as he regrouped a little. His head was ringing and his vision was blurred, but he was alert enough to see the next punch coming and attempt to twist away. He wasn’t successful enough, and the blow to his side made him grunt with pain.
It wasn’t Piotr hitting him anymore, and that was something. It meant that JP was a little less shocked and betrayed, a little better able to keep moving and expect the next blow. He’d grown too conditioned to automatically trusting Piotr, and he didn’t trust this man Magneto, didn’t even know him yet, which made him better prepared to do his best to defend himself.
He pulled on his powers, lifting himself up into the air, actually using the chain that was trapping his hands to pull himself up like a gymnast would, and despite the pain in his side and stomach with every movement, he swung his legs out toward Magneto’s chest with all the speed he could. JP wasn’t practiced at fighting and it showed: his technique was nonexistent and his style was amateurish at best, but he did have his speed on his side.
---
Erik narrowly got hit... No matter how sluggish or slow JP's flailing, it was still pretty quick. Erik ducked in the knick, batting it away none-to-gently as he did. “We gotta live one,” he announced again, circling around back to land two more punches to JP's other side. Now that he was behind JP he grabbed the boy by the scruff and pulled his head back so he could say something, "Try that again and I'll break your fucking leg,” he growled. It was more of a promise than a threat to be sure.
He circled back to the front and that’s when he started in on JP’s face bound and determined to make the kid look like hamburger meat by the time he was done.
---
The hand yanking his head back made JP stifle a yelp and do his best to jerk away from the man’s grasp. It didn’t work, since he had nowhere to go, but he had to at least try. He was still shaken and hurt and confused, not entirely sure what he ought to do, but it was clear now that this was some kind of test. Piotr, he knew (or he trusted, which was almost the same thing) wouldn’t bring him to this if they meant to kill him. Or... he was almost completely sure about that. And evidently he wasn’t supposed to try to fight back, despite all his instincts telling him to lash out in response to the pain.
If this was a test to see if he was tough enough, to find out whether he was scared of pain and whether he would really stand his ground in a fight, well, then JP would do his best to prove that he was. With that in mind, he gritted his teeth, flinching back from the hits to his face as little as he possibly could, though his head jerked back with every blow and he could just feel the bruises and welts forming. He couldn’t help but gasp for breath, especially when one blow sent blood streaming out of his nose, but JP bit back the cries he wanted to let out and just tried to be whatever it was they were looking for in him.
---
Though Piotr knew it wasn’t wise to feel a spark of amusement as JP managed to kick Erik, he couldn’t help it. There was a reason he liked the kid, and it was that spark, that spirit. Piotr didn’t let the amusement show, though, and regardless, it quickly faded when Erik began hitting JP in the face repeatedly. Every hit twisted Piotr’s gut just a little more. He knew that it would bother JP, having such visible injuries. It wasn’t that Piotr thought Jean-Paul was shallow, but he knew the boy liked to look good. Piotr had always appreciated that about him. There was nothing wrong with vanity when the end result was as nice as it was.
Now, though, JP’s face would be bruised and bloody. Piotr knew JP would hate it, but he also knew every time he looked at it, he would remember watching it happen. He didn’t let himself look away, though. Jean-Paul couldn’t escape it, so Piotr could at least watch as he endured it as well as he was. Piotr did take a moment to angle a look at X, wondering if Chuck was in his head, listening to his thoughts on JP’s face, to his feelings over watching JP get hit.
Piotr had a feeling he was. After all, this was at least in part a test for him at the same time as it was a test for Jean-Paul. His feelings for JP aside, Piotr was still loyal to the Brotherhood above all else.
---
Erik was about to punch JP one more time when X interrupted and prevented him from doing so. “Alright, alright...Leave some for Wolverine...”
At that, Erik skidded to a halt but held his fist still in the air. It was only after a brief moment he let it fall back to his side, obviously having his fill of bloodlust and perhaps too tired to continue. “Fine, he’s all yours,” he said, conceding the task at hand to Wolverine and stepping away from JP.
If X was in anyone’s mind, he gave no indication, not that he would, he was just as stoic as the rest, but his telepathy was mostly focused on JP. Even though he didn’t partake in the beat down of the new recruit, it didn’t mean that he was soft by any stretch of the imagination. The things he could do to a person mentally, were just as scary as what Erik, or Piotr, or Wolverine could do with their fists. Sometimes worse. And if he wanted someone hurt, or gone, even, it would just require one teeny, tiny thought.
---
Logan had watched the beating with a passive expression on his face. He had no problems with the initiation, though he thought Erik enjoyed it a bit more than Logan liked. But who was he to say anything. Even now the smell of blood in the room had the adrenaline rushing through Logan’s system. He could feel the animal stirring inside, and wasn’t without some sense of relish that he finally stirred himself on his turn. Erik he gave only a shrug. If there was one thing he didn’t enjoy it was Magneto thinking Logan was jumping at his command. Still, it was his turn and he wasn’t going to balk at it.
Logan shook his head at Magneto, gesturing for him to step out of the way. He didn’t bother taking off his jacket. This wasn’t a show. If a guy couldn’t fight in a jacket, well then he wasn’t a fighter, was he. Logan tried not to reflect on things much, but one thing he knew was that he was a fighter. And they were here to find out how much of one this kid was.
Some friend of Piotr’s was the story, Logan had heard. He moved in front of him, letting the boy see him - as much as he could with the way his eyes were swelling shut and his forehead bleeding. “So, you’re the new guy,” Logan said as he stretched his hands and moved to keep in front of J.P., who was swaying a bit in the chains like a punching bag. “They call me Wolverine.”
Wolverine’s fist launched out suddenly even as he was speaking, catching J.P. in the side of the ribs. It would hurt. Logan may not have been the strongest guy in Mutant Town, but his bones were right up there. Almost impossible to break, his fist was like a chunk of granite as Logan’s hook hit flesh and bone. Logan was breathing calmly through his nose, not dancing like Erik had, simply holding his ground and flashing his other fist forward. One in the gut, one in the side, uppercut to the jaw.
---
Much as JP was trying to stay quiet and keep from showing the fear and the pain, he couldn’t help but suck in one panicked breath as the Wolverine stepped up. Everybody knew who he was, and only the very stupid residents of M-Town weren’t wary of getting on his wrong side. He did his best to keep his eyes open despite the swelling to his face, trying to judge where the blows were coming so that he could dodge out of the way, but his body was too hurt and his mind too shaken to make his speed especially useful.
The first blow made him actually cry out despite his best intentions of being tough, and JP instinctively tried to curl around that side, but then came the next punch, and the next. He couldn’t help but give a pained grunt at each blow, and the hit to his jaw snapped his head back again, throwing him off his feet and leaving him hanging limp from the chain, barely even conscious. At this point it would have been a relief to pass out, but he had to see this through. Didn’t he? After all this, JP wouldn’t allow himself to fail now. It was hard to move or breathe and he couldn’t see at all, but he did his best to struggle back to his feet, unsteady though he was.
---
Logan felt J.P go limp under his fists. The kid was probably thinking he’d reached the breaking point, might think he was about to die. Logan could see there was still a long way to go. That was how you broke people. So there was so very far to go still.
He didn’t let up, pummeling the kid with short hard strikes, fists, the open blades of his hands, knuckle strike, whatever that point of his body called for. He didn’t think about it, didn’t need to think about it. Just let the moment of violence flow through him, his body working in utter efficiency to do what it was made for. He could have killed, could have knocked him out, paralyzed him, maimed him. But Logan knew the program, and it was just about pain. A mild sort of pain, the kind that didn’t knock you out. Not the kind that you’d give up your own mother to make it stop. Just a good old fashioned beating, probably the worst the kid would ever get. If you were going to walk the streets in the Brotherhood, it was best to get that behind you.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, boy,” Logan growled at him. Not sadistically, just because that wasn’t how this worked. He landed a stinging blow on the side of the kid’s head. It would give J.P. the jolt of pain and adrenaline he needed to stay conscious. “Everybody takes a beating at some point, that’s life. The ones who get back up, they’re the ones get the streets.” Logan was talking more for himself than the kid. He could feel the animal inside of him, always did in a fight. When the fight became everything, that’s when it came, and so he talked, reminding himself who he was, where he was. He could smell the others behind him, watching, waiting to see if this one was going to make it past Logan. Not all of them did.
---
The hard tap to his head brought JP back around, and the voice did the rest. Wolverine’s voice wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to sleep through. He blinked through the sweat and blood in his eyes and moved -- not fast, not like he should have, but enough to pull himself back to a more-or-less standing position.
JP spat out the blood in his mouth rather than swallowing it, and did his best to look directly at the Wolverine, standing up as tall as he could. He didn’t trust himself to talk without sounding horrible, so he just lifted his chin to show that he was still there, still standing, and still able to see this through. Even if it felt like his face was a mass of cuts and bruises and his ribs felt cracked and his teeth felt loose, he was still standing.
---
“Wolverine,” X broke the silence (if you could call the noises JP was making as he was sputtering out blood silence), his tone one that commanded respect and called all their attention. “That’s enough. That’s no way to treat our brother.” He clasped his hand on Erik’s shoulder, and under his breath instructed him to cut JP loose.
Erik who was none to keen on being told what to do, glanced up at X wtih a rueful gleam in his eye. “Gonna need to catch him,” he said and without much more warning released JP from his bonds.
---
The sudden release of his wrists was unexpected, and normally JP could have caught himself, but right now his body wasn’t reacting as quickly as it should have. He dropped to the floor with a quiet “oof”, landing sprawled on his side. It took a moment for him to push himself up to a sitting position, though he didn’t really trust himself to stand right now. JP’s head was spinning, he felt sick to his stomach and weak, and there was hardly a part of him that didn’t hurt.
He blinked up at X hazily, not sure what was going on now. At least nobody was hitting him, but that didn’t mean this was over, and after another moment he struggled to his feet, listing badly to the side and with his arms wrapped protectively around his ribs just in case there was something more to face down.
---
It was over now, for the most part, but JP still had to heal and that would take time - he would be hurting still for a few weeks after this, if not more. X closed the distance and put his hand on JP’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze as he tipped his head and inspected the damage done. From his back pocket he retrieved a bandanna, the Brotherhood’s colors, and used it to wipe the blood that was dripping JP’s nose. With his hand removed from the other’s shoulder he lifted JP’s hand and silently instructed him to keep the pressure there. “We’re brothers now,” he said with a nod. “Remember that.”
And then over JP’s shoulder, X looked on to Piotr. JP having come with Piotr, he figured they’d be, well, leaving together and Piotr was as good as any to take responsibility for JP’s well being. (He had more or less said as such at the beginning of the evening anyways...) Hey, he was a new member now, they didn’t want him to go and up and die on them now. “Make sure Moira takes a look at him.” He gave JP one more reassuring pat on the back before strolling out of the room Erik to follow.
“Beers? Beers?” He beckoned them. “Beers tomorrow. At Rogue’s.”
---
Piotr’s responsibility indeed.
“Yeah, I’ll take him,” Piotr grunted, pushing off the wall and he was already two steps closer to JP before he wondered second guessed his instinctive movement to help Jean-Paul. He threw a look over his shoulder and nodded at Erik and X instead. “Beers tomorrow then.”
He had a feeling JP wouldn’t quite be up and about by tomorrow, but Piotr would either drag him along if he made a miraculous recovery or else make an excuse for him and put in a solo appearance if that was the case. He supposed if they were going to be meeting at Rogue’s JP would meet her eventually, but that wasn’t important at the moment.
What was important at the moment was to get Jean-Paul to Moira, make sure they hadn’t done any serious damage. He took another look at JP then and then decided, considering the state of him, the others would have to forgive him some compassion. JP had done well, and if he needed a hand now, Piotr would give it.
“Can you walk?” he asked JP, voice low.
---
Everything seemed just a little off to JP, who swayed as he stood, dutifully holding the red handkerchief to his nose. The light was strange, the voices coming at him were strange, the room was dipping like he was on a boat, and he felt sick to his stomach -- and that was even beyond the pain all over his body, especially in his chest and stomach that made him breathe as shallowly as he possibly could. But he looked up at Piotr with his bruised and bloodied face and attempted to smile, although that hurt enough that he stopped that and just nodded instead.
He took a step, though his knee threatened to buckle and he came alarmingly close to falling, but he stayed upright through sheer stubbornness. Really, it would be easier to float above the ground and not have to worry about the ground moving underneath him, and so JP did that -- lifted himself up just an inch, so that the toes of his shoes barely skimmed the ground. “I can fly,” he confirmed, his voice thick and unnatural in his own ears, and then winced at the pain in his jaw and brought up a hand to gingerly touch the hot lump under the skin.
He probably couldn’t fly very fast right now, and certainly not in a straight line, and considering he couldn’t really see much at the moment it wasn’t wise to chance it -- but he was moving under his own power, and he would not lean against Piotr at all no matter how tempting it was. At least, not where anyone could see him.