X-men Evolution Fan Fiction / X-Men Fan Fiction ❯ End of our Days ❯ Once Upon A Universe ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: DarkStarFlame
While the newest arrival at the Institute settles in, others are plotting the new rise of someone from the past, and some quite disturbing discoveries are about to be made...

Non Anime: X-men Evolution Fan Fiction / X-Men Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.18.2009 | Pages: 4 | Words: 11.2K | Visits: 348 | Status: Work In Progress

“Phone conversation”
`Thoughts'
`Telepathy'
Flashback
Chapter 3: Once Upon A Universe
The monitor he'd been working on blinked a couple of times, before going dead again. Typing several more keys, the man sitting opposite it, tried to get it back to life, but in vain. He sighed, frustrated on more than one level and raked a hand through his bluish-black hair.
Apparently, this just wasn't his day. First, the central chamber's monitoring mechanisms going awry, then the main surveillance system was out and they had to run on the supporting one. Now that he thought about it, suspended animation had been hell of a lot better - at least his mind had rested enough. Something that couldn't be said at present - not with all the problems he had to sort out.
Pushing off his high-backed chair, he stood abruptly, stretching his muscles, which ached from disuse. Truth be told, he really needed more movement, but being practically tied up to the base was the worst way to get it. And with every passing day, he considered more and more seriously that he better go back into lethargy. The last five years had truly exhausted him - mainly mentally, to the point of breaking.
Yet, his musings were loudly interrupted, when he heard someone run hurriedly in the large control room. The newcomer's messy black hair fell in a pair of eyes sparkling with the slight mischief, that gave away a prankster at heart - more precisely, one who preferred nasty tricks. The first man didn't even turn, instead saying flatly “Judging by your pace, there is pressing news. If not though, I would like to clarify once more the consequences of disturbing me unnecessarily.” the last carried a subtle dangerous note. The newcomer bowed quickly, albeit slightly mockingly, since his companion had his back to him; however, one could easily discern that the other was his superior.
“Just before it went busted, the core's system registered an anomaly. It concerns the time previewed for the last step.” The man with the bluish tresses turned hastily, coming face to face with the other, his dark cape making an elegant swirl, eyes wide and faintly worried “What anomaly exactly?! And don't pull on me the `make him get it out of me piece by piece' - I am really not in the mood!”
He had drawn himself to his full, impressive height and the messy-haired man inched away a bit; since he was considerably shorter; and put on his serious, and rarely used, demeanour “There's been a shift in the time-space flow and we're unable to tell the final stage's exact date anymore…” Great, thought the taller of the two, simply great! This definitely was his day from hell - no, scratch that; all of his days had been this way, for quite the time. First, it had taken almost two whole years to merely locate their Master, and now this! And he had deemed that the crusades had been bad…
Then something clicked “Hang on - we didn't know the precise time in the first place! How is that change problematic?” His subordinate shifted nervously “It might spell trouble, if the slumber period's extended - could even put our Master into an eternal coma.”
The taller man closed his eyes for a while, seemingly sinking deeper into his own mind, his face twisting with strain, before he snapped them open again. “It won't be a problem.” he stated briskly “Instructions are to expect the final round anytime soon - and to prepare everything necessary. Whatever had remained to be decided has been sorted out.”
The other eyed him incredulously “Still thinking you can read His mind, eh?” but, raising a hand, his superior silenced him “Ido not, for firstly I'm forbidden, and then, He's too strong for me. It's Him, who connects with me, when needed. After all, He may be asleep, but his mind isn't, and it's working just as well as yours or mine. Was that all you had to tell me?” he couldn't hide the irritation in his voice. His companion snorted “You sure need to lighten up - you're worrying yourself too much. It's not like they left a complete wreck. The place is still working.” he cast a guilty glance at the dead monitor “Well…for the most part, at least. `Sides, we haven't had any other problems either. So, chill, Ben!” Bennet du Paris fixed him with a dead glare before retorting “That is enough, Morph - dismissed!” and the messy-haired man exited as fast as dignity let him, for if looks could truly kill, he would sure have been six feet under already. Several times in a row.
Left alone, du Paris, or Exodus as he was also known, sighed exasperated; as he settled himself back into his chair `And to think that it is only the beginning. By now, I miss the old days more than I ever thought possible - this new world is taking too big a toll on me, for comfort. Plus, when Mesmero finally chooses to show his sorry ass around again, he'll be in not just for an earful! I wonder, what in the bowels of hell happened with that blasted old man anyway…'
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It wasn't that bad after all, Magneto thought, as he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast, almost three weeks since his addition to the Mansion's instructors. He'd been settling in quite well actually - a lot better that he had expected. The students had easily accepted him, especially his newly-established fan-club, consisting of young Bingham and his gang. But the older ones liked him just as well, especially because, unlike the Wolverine, he didn't patronise them. His new team-mates weren't wary of him anymore either, well, the majority anyway.
Both Kurt and Logan had been acting just as he had anticipated, of course, throwing him the customary suspicious glances, every now and then, and giving him the obligatory talk, along the lines of `one wrong step and you're dust', however, that was pretty much it. And though the same could hardly be said for the feral Canadian, Nightcrawler was indeed slowly coming round. Erik let a smile creep up his lips - he had a nagging feeling that a certain redhead had something do with that. Knowing Jean, she had probably given both of them a real lecture on how to treat him, not failing to add a threat to their sanity (or some other things they valued even more), if they didn't behave.
He had to hand it to her, having already witnessed, first hand, just how fiery a temper the young telepath had. And it appealed to him greatly, which he hadn't forgotten to tell her causing, to his delight, a slight blush to bloom on her cheeks, making her even more captivating. However, he was equally much grateful it hadn't been him at the receiving end. And that Betsy hadn't been anywhere near to throw some saucy comment about his words. For, as much he, like everyone else, enjoyed her jokes, it was, at times, way too embarrassing to be their target.
Warren and Neal, on the other hand, were all polite and a bit reserved at first, but were gradually opening up to the newcomer. The former turned out to be quite open and easy-going, not holding any hard feelings about the past; while the latter, though not a man of many words, was fiercely protective of all he cared for. Moira was, seemingly, the new mother-hen, now that Storm was gone - she simply had that maternal caring and warmth, towards students and instructors alike, since all were younger. Betsy, for her part, had proven a funny companion and great friend-material, but almost permanently glued to Angel, during any free minute she had.
As for Jean…Merely thinking about the young woman was enough to make Erik's insides swell with what was oddly akin to contentment. And he was more than glad she wasn't all doom and gloom anymore. As clichй at as it might have sounded, it was like a tremendous weight had lifted from her soul. There was no more coldness to cause her pain. Her inner darkness still remained, but if he were to be truthful, he liked that part of her too - it was undeniably alluring, just like every other aspect of the enthralling creature that was Jean.
And to add that, now she smiled more often - and not the sarcastic half-smirks that she and her British friend had mastered so well. They were vivid, real smiles that never failed to brighten her surroundings. Especially for him…For, apparently, her radiance had an unmistakeable effect on his own old grief, making it gradually deplete with every passing day - slowly, but surely. As if her mere presence called to his very soul - cleansing, reviving. Forging a connection he couldn't deny - a bond that grew stronger with every word spoken between them, with each touch they shared.
Plus, he hadn't been able to help noticing how, more and more often, there was no need for words between them at all - a mere look was enough to ensure mutual understanding. Nor had he missed the way every contour, every curve of their bodies, matched so flawlessly, whenever they leaned into each other…He certainly wondered why, but deep down, he knew those developments were entirely welcome… What happened with him, he wondered, was he suddenly becoming sentimental in his old age?
But then Erik kicked himself mentally - he wasn't old, well, at least not in body; and increasingly, not in mind or soul either. Besides, lately he had realised there was nothing wrong with being a bit emotional, after all. In fact, what he was more dwelling on weren't his unexpected thoughts, but what Jean's reaction would be, if he ever shared them with her. Positive, hopefully - at least, she wouldn't ridicule him, that much was certain.
He had to be careful though, not to let anything like this slip before the others, particularly in front of the two less receptive males in the team. Or he'll have to deal with unpleasant scenes, he definitely wished to avoid…
As he entered the kitchen, Erik noticed that surprisingly the least morning people were already there. Moira and Charles had probably finished by now, since neither was anywhere to be seen. Neal was engrossed in the morning newspaper, while absently chewing a banana, as Betsy - dozing off on his shoulder, played with that of Warren's hands, which encircled her waist. Said man, meanwhile, used the spoon in the other to dig ravenously in a hugebowl of cereal, which made the silver-haired mutant raise an eyebrow at him. Angel only gave him a sheepish grin and went on devouring his breakfast.
In a minute, Kurt and Jean arrived too, and upon spotting the German, Psylocke fixed him with a glare “Fuzzy, it's your turn to make toast - what took you so long?” Kurt muttered something under his breath, as he set out to duel the toaster, and by the sound of it, he wasn't terribly happy with being assigned cooking again.
The other guys couldn't hide their smiles at the Brit's disgruntled address and Jean outright giggled, while propping herself on a chair with a cup of the obligatory coffee “Aww, someone's grumpy this morning. Do tell, Bess - did your man refuse you any last night, or he woke you too early for the morning session?” Grins all around, as everyone knew of the couple's, rather loud, usual `activities'. Even Neal was sniggering behind his paper.
However, he sat way too close to Betsy, so was unable to escape her wrath, as she whacked him with her elbow, only to receive a heartfelt apology; before turning to Jean “Now, luv, no need to be nasty - I just had Danger Room practice and that's enough to make anyone grouchy. Especially good ol' me - you know, I'm not a morning person.”
“Of course, how could I forget - our dear aristocrat.” was Jean's witty comeback, to which Betsy simply rolled her eyes, as the guys tried to hide their amusement. However, both stopped their chat just in time, to see Kurt dishing out pieces of toast, as if he were handing out playing cards and then grunting “And don't you dare complain!”
Warren, though, paid no heed to anything beyond his bowl of cereal and his girl, but she and Neal caught the slices, just before they hit them. Jean suspended hers in mid-air and then lowered them gently onto her plate. At the same time, Magneto used his powers to get the knife he'd just taken out to pierce all of his pieces and loom in front of him, as he settled down next to the redhead.
And that was another curious trend he'd been experiencing, since moving residence - whether at meals, in the Rec Room, or at meetings, he always seemed to, sort of subconsciously, take a seat at her side. He usually shrugged it off as purely the residue of his initial apprehension towards the others, since she was the one, he felt most comfortable around.
But deep inside, the other, the real reason tugged at his mind, yet he didn't want to permit it to rise, as he wasn't sure what he was to do if he did - that he was growing to enjoy her company more and more. To even crave her presence and miss it, when she wasn't there - something, which unsettled him, though he told himself there was a logical explanation. They were becoming closer, he could sense, and anyway, it was normal to feel this way towards one's friends. Yes, that was it; he repeated to himself mentally and concentrated on his breakfast.
He had barely been able to pick up one of the slices covered with a liberal amount of butter, when Betsy, who had apparently already taken a bite out of hers, coughed loudly. And before anyone could even ask what had happened, she spat pieces of toast all around, some landing in Jean and Erik's mugs, on Neal's newspaper and even on Logan's shirt as he entered, judging by his growl. All eyed her perplexed and she chocked out at the blue-furred mutant leaning on the counter with an apple in his hand “You're so dead, Fuzzy - you burned the damned things! Talk about horrible cooking skills. What're trying to do - poison us?!”
Warren had finally abandoned his cereal to try to calm down his girlfriend, and stop her from inflicting any bodily, or mental, harm on their team-mate. And Kurt, in the meantime, had inched away to a safe distance, ready to teleport if the danger became imminent.
However, all of the rest were now eyeing their portions suspiciously. True, Kurt wasn't as bad at cooking as Kitty, but even Logan, who usually wasn't picky, had made a face after proof-trying the toast. And that said something. Their German friend, on the other hand, shrugged “It's not my fault that someone fiddled with the toaster again Besides, I vill not be the one preparing the meals very soon, so why should it matter anyway?”
That last prompted a mischievous glint in his team-mates' gazes. “Vat?” he asked perplexed and Jean smirked “Just be glad that your future wife didn't hear you say something so outrageous. I bet, she would've at least given you an earful, if not even walloping you one, for already running away from helping with the domestic duties.” Now, Kurt did look a bit scared.
“Oh, that reminds me, Blue,” Neal addressed him, smirking “for when should we get our fancy clothes ready?” The German rolled his eyes “Oh, the curse of appallingly short, short-term memory! I told you already, guys - in three months, though they're close to two now.”
“Why so late, mate?” Angel finally averted his attention from Psylocke and his meal. “I thought you two were in kinda of a hurry.”
“Ha, you should talk!” Kurt snickered, but then put in “Truth is, Mandy vants a Christmas wedding and I just couldn't refuse her.” the blue mutant blushed only slightly, but it didn't go past Betsy “Ooh, I see - girl's already got him whipped. Way to go for her! Looks like, there's no need for me to be giving her tips.”
“I'm NOT whipped, Bess!” Kurt protested, but to no avail - Betsy, Warren and Neal were all laughing, the burned toast - long-forgotten.
Meanwhile, Erik and Jean had fallen into their own talk, laced liberally with quiet laughter and good-natured teasing. It was mostly about free time activities and training sessions, whether with the students or their own. And thankfully, only few of the Mansion's inhabitants were aware, that for a time now, they had most of the latter together.
However, immersed in their private conversation, they were completely oblivious to that of the others', or of Logan's progressively growing scowl. In fact, the feral mutant had actually started growling softly, but it grew increasingly louder, drawing the attention of the trio and Kurt. They eyed him puzzled, until it clicked, and Betsy took on the task to prevent a scene.
“Hello, you two!” she chimed in, helpfully “Earth to Jean and Silver!” She had given Erik the nickname, owing to his hair-colour, which she found pretty cool. And he didn't mind; which was, Betsy suspected, particularly because Jean had started using it too, on occasions. This time however, it took a whole minute before they looked away from each other's gazes, only to meet looks ranging from mild interest, through amusement, recognition and finally, open disapproval.
“Is there a problem?” asked Erik calmly, yet slightly confused as to why everyone's eyes were suddenly on him and Jean. Neal sighed “Betsy's been calling at you for ages, guys - she even tried a psychic urge, but both of your minds were as if warded off.”
“You were so into each other, you two, that even telepathic intrusion proved impossible. Care to share anything with us?” Her friend's sly smirk alerted Jean immediately as to what she was implying “It was nothing special, Bess - and definitely NOT what you're thinking.”
Catching onto her train of thought, Erik attempted to avert any unfounded suspicions - well, at least he hoped they were such, but lately, he himself was less and less sure. Still, they had to be groundless - he and Jean were simply friends, nothing more he told himself, adding aloud “I see no reason not to tell.” The redhead shot him a murderous glare, but he winked at her without the others noticing, and she relaxed “We were only discussing possible training activities for the youngsters - that is ultimately it.”
He finished on a note, which bore no objection and the majority, even Betsy, took the hint and dropped the subject, as they were faced with a suddenly, and by the looks of it, increasingly protective Master of magnetism. Though the Brit couldn't resist one last “Geez, Silver, take it easy! Guilty, I admit, but it was just a tease - no need to go all defensive on everybody.” And Erik nodded in apology; now realising he had overreacted a bit.
Logan, however, wasn't fazed at all. He had in fact started to slowly stand up from his chair, a look of pure murder in his dark eyes, his claws extending with that unmistakeable blood-freezing snikt. But a round of equally threatening glances from each of the others, and Neal and Kurt's restraining hands on his forearms, put him off. For the time being, at least, allowing the pair to exit freely in the direction of the Danger Room, with Erik holding Jean's hand - a fact, Neal saw relieved, that Logan had missed. Or there would have been carnage.
Yet, everyone present knew the Wolverine didn't sit back for long. Especially when it came to their scarlet-haired friend - the sentiments in that case ran way too deep. And the showdown, which was bound to result between him and Magneto, was simply a matter of time.
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It had been a piece of cake - almost literally, the hooded figure thought, as he surveyed the sleeping guards strewn all over the place. First, getting rid of Fury, after `convincing' him to send the Brotherhood on a wild goose chase, so they wouldn't be there to impede his plans. And by the time they realised they had been played; he was going to be done with his job. With one last predatory grin, he left the guards to their blissful oblivion, and proceeded towards the high-security area of the prison.
Passing several cells, he looked at the data he had taken from one of the computers: `Cell 147, highly dangerous, solitary containment - obligatory'. He smirked - exactly the one he needed, well, one of them anyhow. Using the chip-cards he had taken from the chief warden, he punched the codes and the 2-foot thick, titanium door creaked open only to reveal a mostly empty room. Except for a large tank of greenish liquid, that suspiciously looked like some sort of tranquiliser. And the equally big man contained inside.
The figure went straight for the security system of the tank and after considerable code-typing, the thing's door unlocked and the liquid spilled out with a loud splash. The prisoner fell to the floor with a dull thud, his still drowsy eyes opening slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the air. The hooded man smirked at the other one, who tried, and surprisingly succeeded, in getting himself up “Long time, no see…Juggernaut.”
The brother of the man known as Professor X, after finally regaining complete consciousness, straightened to his full height, towering over the other “And who are you, in hell's name? I don't remember ever meeting you before.”
The hooded man chuckled quietly “Of course, you won't - we were never introduced personally, I'm afraid. But I know quite a lot about you, Cain Marco - the invincible, unstoppable, carnage maker.”
“And look where it got me - in jail. Some ultimate destroyer I turned out to be.” Seemingly having by-passed that remark, his liberator put in “I have come to free you.” Marco laughed sarcastically “And what's the catch? Surely there has to be one.”
“True, there is a price - as you probably know, everything in this life is paid for. But I do not ask much of you - nor does the one, in whose name I come.” Juggernaut narrowed his eyes “I ain't working for someone I don't know.” The figure shrugged “It is your choice, indeed - freedom, or the tranquiliser tank. Just think about the opportunities you will be bypassing…”
Marco's eyes grew wide, like those of a child who had just been promised his favourite toy “What exactly are we talking about?” The other man hid his satisfaction quite well - things were going according to plan, after all. Aloud, however, all he replied was “My Master can give you a lot more than you have ever imagined.” and he knew he had him. Juggernaut's lips formed a grin “Revenge too?” the hooded man nodded “Whatever you please, Cain. Do I have your cooperation?” Marco's grin widened even more “Count me in.”
They walked down the corridor, Juggernaut bringing up the rear, his mysterious liberator in the lead. “Where're we going now?” asked the big man briskly, and the other one added patiently, as if he were explaining to a five-year-old “We have someone else to pick up as well, Cain.” The latter grunted, but sauntered after his rescuer nonetheless.
Finally, they reached their destination - one of the highest-security cells, in the very depths of the prison. “That's plain weird.” Marco thought aloud “That door isn't half as thick as mine was and this guy is supposedly even more dangerous than me.”
“Strange indeed.” his companion added “But then again, maybe not so.” Juggernaut rolled his eyes “Whatever. Stand back!” And before the smaller of the two could make any move to enter the necessary codes, the enhanced human had run the door down from its hinges with one single blow. “Let's see what sorta fish this tin can holds.” Marco put in, as they both went inside, but almost immediately, a mocking voice answered him “Look who's talking. I'm no odder fish that you, fella, whoever you're, that is.” Then, the lights finally went on and both newcomers were able to see the speaker.
A well-built, dark-skinned man was suspended on the wall opposite the door. His arms and legs were caught in adamantium containment units that reached up to his elbows and knees, respectively. A foot-wide, sort-of belt of the same metal shackled his waist and some strange looking collar was clasped around his neck.
The hooded man moved closer to the captive, who, to Juggernaut's utter surprise, smirked as wide as possible “Took you long enough!” and the mystery man at last took off his hood, revealing a slightly wrinkled face, with a strange pattern tattooed on it “Pleasure to meet in person…Mesmero.” The smirk that formed on their rescuer's features mirrored that of the captive “Moses Magnum, I presume.”
“The one and only, old man - now, are we just gonna stand, wasting time on idle chitchat; or you're truly here to free me. I've been getting kinda stiff in these things.”
They proceeded to take off first the weird collar, and then to unlock the shackles. As he emerged from his restraints, the man called Moses Magnum stretched almost leisurely, before flexing his impressive muscles “It's good to be moveable again - and feel one's powers too. Curse that collar!” Juggernaut twirled said object in his hands “What's this anyway?”
Magnum eyed him patronisingly “You must have been here longer than me, I guess. They're suppressing mutant powers - experimental, but apparently working. Not that it was necessary on me - adamantium's one helluva hard to break, in any case. As far as I know though, there aren't more than three. But they might make others - especially now that Kelly character is in the Senate, a true loser if I ever saw one.”
“Who precisely are you?” Marco couldn't help asking the new addition to their little group, but it was the man called Mesmero, who replied “Oh, how forgetful of me - you do not know each other. Mr Magnum, this is Cain Marko or Juggernaut - genetically-enhanced human, though not a mutant in the strict sense of the term. Cain, meet Moses Magnum - international terrorist and weapons expert, with a relatively recently awakened X-factor.”
Juggernaut only narrowed his gaze at the other with slight distrust, while Magnum gave him another smug smirk, before Mesmero interjected “We must go gentlemen - time is running out and our Master needs us.” and the other two nodded, filing out of the cell after him. As they headed for the exit, Magnum turned to the mind-altering mutant “So, it's true - your boss is responsible for the wave that changed me into who I am now?”
“Arguably, yes - though, in fact he simply awoke your dormant X-factor and your already existing powers. You were one of the very few, within whom the process of mutation through the Eye of Ages was completed. Just as, I explained to you already, during our preliminary `conversation'. From which I still have a splitting headache.” Magnum shrugged “Remind me to thank him then.”
“Trust me, Mr Magnum - you would very soon have the chance to do that yourself. Now let's move gentlemen - we have work to do.”
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It was just one of those nights, Betsy thought absently, as she snuggled closer to Neal on their customary spot in the Rec Room. They had been watching Thunderbird's favourite Bollywood movies, and though she found them mostly a bit too far from her usual taste in films, she had to admit some of the leading guys were indeed hot.
However, at the end of the fourth, she abruptly stood and stretched, mentally cursing Warren and his business cocktails. He had wanted to take her too, of course, but she had refused. For, as much as she loved the life of a socialite, having been born one, she absolutely hated the people her beau was forced to associate with. And she didn't need to use her telepathy to know he despised them just as much, yet couldn't get out of his duties.
So, she had opted to stay home and Neal, being the good friend (though Betsy was perfectly aware his feelings for her extended way beyond pure friendship), had offered her to have a movie night. They had asked the others to join too, but Kurt was on the phone with Amanda, again, as unsurprising as it was. Charles and Moira had gone out to dinner together; a fact which hadn't gone past the purple-haired woman. There most certainly was history between these two, but as infuriating as it was, they kept it between themselves.
Magneto had been in the Danger Room, preparing several simulations for his classes' practice the next day, and Jean was strangely nowhere to be found. The Brit suspected they wouldn't have wanted to watch anyway - they weren't into the type of movies Neal liked.
All they had got from Logan, on the other hand, was an angry negative grunt and they decided, wisely, not to disturb him. Seemingly, he was in one of his fits once more - which had resurfaced ever since Erik had joined the team. Actually, if she were to be truthful, they had started long before that, when Jean had told him their relationship had no future. And he'd been devastated…
They had begun going out several months after Cyclops had left the Mansion; and she, Warren and Neal had been there already for some time. Jean had been actually quite content to let Scott go - as it turned out, he had nothing to offer her. At least, nothing she needed.
Logan had stepped in then - the passion they discovered between them had been too strong to deny. And he had found himself caring for her more with every minute they spend together. But the result…He had fallen in love for real, perhaps for the first time in the life he remembered, and Jean had thought she had as well. Yet, fate had the strangest turns, Betsy knew, and in the end the passion had burned out, leaving only deep friendship on Jean's part.
As for Logan…When it came to him, things weren't so simple - he still loved her just as much as he did back then, and had had quite the trouble letting her go. Not to forget, he was almost animalistically protective of her; one could even easily call him `territorial'. And that included everything and everyone to do with Jean - especially, any other male, who would try to get close to her. In fact, it had taken him quite the time to warm up to Angel and Thunderbird, facilitated greatly by them being only interested in being strictly Jean's friends, and nothing more. And Logan had held them under very close scrutiny, till he was satisfied with their intentions.
Now, however, things were starting to heat up again with Erik's unhidden and growing fondness for their friend - a combination that would only prove to be explosive. Still, Betsy couldn't help noticing that something was different between these two - something, that didn't exist in any of the relationships of the redhead with other men, whether past or present.
Erik simply had some unknown effect on Jean's whole being - as if he hadn't touched just her heart, but her soul too and even deeper. It was like each had been waiting only for the other to finally complete them, to make them truly alive; though neither had apparently noticed it, yet. But Psylocke knew, it was only a matter of time when they would…
The Brit felt someone prod her arm gently and turned to face a confused Neal, who put in smiling “I was wondering whether you had actually fallen asleep. I know, I'm not the most entertaining company in the world, but, at least, I try.” Betsy gave him a smirk “It's nothing about you, luv - I wasn't sleeping, just thinking.” her grin grew into Cheshire-type “About two certain friends of ours.” Thunderbird rolled his eyes “Don't even start again, Bess - they aren't attracted to each other in that way.” She sighed exasperated “Honestly, you can be such a lost case, when it comes to feelings. These two have something going on, though even they themselves have no idea what exactly it is, yet.”
“It's called friendship, sweetie - nothing more.” His companion, however, went on “Trust me, Neal; there's a lot more under that surface they show to the rest of us. Don't tell me you haven't seen the holding hands bit - nearly all the time they're in the same room; plus the fact that he always keeps close to her almost instinctively. And what do you have to say about the stolen glances, when they think no one's looking? Or the way he seems to drown in her eyes, every time their gazes lock? Or how they tune everything out, when talking to each other? That isn't `just friends' to me, dear.”
“Says the telepath?” he asked her a bit teasingly, but she shook her head “I don't need to use my abilities - we, women have the talent of seeing these things. Men, on the other hand, can be so oblivious, that they wouldn't know romance, even if it hits them in the face. They usually don't realise what's happened, until the couple's married.”
Her smirk made him give her a mock-pout and she laughed “When you think about it - it's true, just wait and you'll see I'm right. I can bet you anything, they'll end up being together in some place tonight too - they seem to either be reading each other's minds, or just having one helluva intuition as to the other's location.”
Neal put a companionable arm around her shoulders, smiling to the TV screen, as he switched it to the news “We'll see, Bess, we'll see…”
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Why did they have to be so close, yet still so hopelessly away? That single thought rolled in Jean's mind like a mantra, as she gazed up at the starlit skies, at the very same time the other two were having their conversation, down in the Rec Room.
It pierced through her like a dagger, such a painful longing - to be back up there, roaming freely amongst the flames of space, where her soul belonged. Yet now, a small bout of hesitation tugged at the back of her mind. For, that was the desire of her soul, but her heart was Earthbound, for more than one reason. And now that she thought about it, perhaps that was the very rationale behind her being incarnated on a planet, she couldn't leave at will without her full powers. Maybe, just maybe, that meant it was high time she settled down.
The phrase itself startled her - `settle down'…And, unbidden, His image assaulted her mind once more, like so many times now, since she had forbidden him to return. Crimson eyes and raven tresses, his long fingers trailing down her skin in an almost sensual manner, the way she always seemed to forget all troubles when they shared their minds. His soothing hands after a long day, her - snuggling into his warm, strong body, feeling utterly safe. His lips burning hers with a fire and passion equalling her own…Jean barely resisted the urge to cry out in frustration - why couldn't she simply put him out of her mind?! After all, that was where they had been in the first place. But a treacherous, little voice inside her pointed out mercilessly `Because, perhaps, he touched you a lot deeper, than just your mind, silly - and, very probably, this wasn't the first time, either.' Not the first time…
And lifting her emerald gaze towards the sky, she whispered sadly, knowing that he wouldn't hear her anyway, as she didn't reach out with her telepathy. “I lied, my Soul of Darkness…You never lied to me, but I did to you, that final time. Because I do remember, though not much; from a life that was so long ago - and I can only hope you'll forgive me. It's better this way - for all of us…” Jean had to squeeze her eyes shut almost painfully, to stop the sudden, unwelcome tears from spilling.
Yet, she was unable to prevent her thoughts from flying back to the dawn of creation, when time and space were still young. And there, at the very bottom of her still incomplete memories, a chain of flashbacks poured onto her like a wild stream…
…Soft laughter, as masculine arms woven of dusk had just caught her blazing figure, after a hearty chase around the newest galaxy she had spun, before lips of the purest darkness brushed, ever so gently, over the crown of her tresses of living fire. Her - as a giant flaming phoenix and him, in the form of a huge shadow, emerging from a supernova, having just re-energised themselves - a look of pure devotion in his scarlet eyes, which she had missed then. And finally, their souls - still incorporeal, but melting into the forms of the bodies, they had always been meant to be born into when the time came…
Hers was the one she did get, but his…had somehow never come to be on the plain of reality… Yet, as much as she didn't want to dwell on that, Jean recalled his words, spoken with such sadness, at their very first meeting in this life: `And now…now, I'm a divided man - just like you are still, and this image survived only inside my mind. For, all you lot know,is only a shell of who I once was, born into a body that is not mine…'
Divided…Something had transpired with his soul before it was incarnated - something, which had split it, and the part of him that held the memories of their previous life, was stuck into the wrong flesh. Only to eventually become the mutant they all called Apocalypse…But even he didn't recall what had compelled that result. Or what had happened to his missing part…
“Why?! Why is it evading me - why can't I remember clearly enough?!” her fists hit the balcony's marble railings, making a dull ache appear in both her hands. “I now know who you were - Ten-Nar, Lord of Twilight. But, why can't I recall who exactly you were to me...? Or whether there's a way for me to make you whole again…It's all so hopelessly confusing!”
Jean suddenly clutched her head, a short and soft, but still agonising cry, escaping her lips. `I have to forget this - all of it!' she thought, steadying herself on the banister `I can't go on this way; it's just going to drive me mad. Me and that ghost that's left of Him - we're adversaries, full stop; no more, no less!'
She simply had to make herself think about something, no, someoneelse... And as if on cue, blue replaced the scarlet, as black melted into silver. Strangely enough though, the changes in the face's lines weren't that drastic. But she shrugged it off, concentrating instead on the unmistakeable calming effect, the mere thought about him caused her to experience. Erik…Oh, how she needed him right now - he always seemed to know how best to give her the solace, she couldn't do without.
Who would have thought, that their former opponent was going to turn into her sanctuary? Who would have guessed, they had so much in common; that she would grow not only to enjoy, but desire his company. That it took only a couple of joint training exercises, for them to realise what a formidable team they made. Or that each of the increasingly many times he let, or prompted, her to lean into him, they fit so perfectly into each other… She wondered whether he had noticed any of these - and what his reaction would be, if he did.
And then, she felt the familiar soothing presence, but didn't turn, instead closing her eyes and calling to him quietly “You don't need to lurk on the doorway, you know.” She could almost see his smile, feel its warmth wash over her whole being, making her finally forget the other one who plagued her thoughts.
Powerful, yet gentle arms took her waist from behind, drawing her into his tall frame, until Jean sank into him, relishing fully in that simple contact. He had never allowed himself that much closeness, but she didn't mind at all. Her eyes were still closed, his hot breath slightly ruffling her hair as he whispered into her ear “I didn't want to intrude.”
In fact, he had been standing in that entrance for a lot longer, than she had discerned; having been drawn to the balcony by some inexplicable urge. But, since she had been so engrossed into her own mind, she hadn't registered his presence. Thankfully for Jean though, Erik hadn't heard any of her aloud musings, himself being too entranced by the sight in front of him.
For some unfathomable reason, he had, of late, found himself unable to associate any of the terms connected with beauty with any other woman, but the one, leaning onto the balcony's railing. And at that very moment, seeing her bathed in the starlight, a golden aura surrounding her, her long scarlet hair slightly fluttering in the breeze; he had realised why. For, she looked every inch a true goddess out of the immortal realm. And though he was aware, that she was probably close to being one in the literal sense too, that dry information didn't make it any less enchanting to watch her. Because she was a goddess, to him - in his eyes yet, by far not as a result of her looks, as stunning as they undeniably were. But because of the breathtaking, real-life woman she was. And for the Master of magnetism that was all that mattered.
So, he hadn't been able to resist taking that embodiment of pure perfection into his arms - even if only to make sure she was really there; despite the high risk of her being less than receptive of this sudden gesture of intimacy. After all, neither had let themselves be close to each other, in any way different than a purely friendly manner.
“You looked like you needed your solitude.” he added, brushing her hair away from her graceful neck, only to run his fingertips over the silky skin in a feathery-light contact, that, nevertheless, made Jean's spine tingle. “No…I need you…” he wondered, whether he had heard correctly, or his mind was playing with him way too cruelly. Or, perhaps, it was her remaining sadness talking, not her clear reason. Still, he replied, wishing against all hope, that she had intended her words in earnest “And I am here…Always will be - you mustn't ever doubt that…” and hedefinitely meant every word.
Yet, he wasn't prepared for what came next. For, Erik suddenly felt her hands come over his and hold them exactly where they were, causing a pleasant tingling sensation of his own to start rising from the pit of his stomach, to finally spread through his whole body. For what seemed like ages, they simply stood, drowning in that inexplicable bliss engulfing them both. And almost simultaneously, through both their minds, ran the thought that they had been right - they did fit perfectly into each other.
What they hadn't realised though, was that Jean had projected said musing out, and in the process had caught onto Erik's. Thus, both suddenly grasped that each had taken in the other's absolutely identical reflection, and Jean whirled around to face her companion, blurting out at the same time as him “You too?!”
But when their gazes met, no more words were needed, as unspoken comprehension passed between them. And they just remained there, Jean still in Erik's protective arms, but now her own were tentatively draped around his waist, her head resting on his left shoulder. It was like time stood still with them, frozen as if by her command, even though she couldn't do that yet. But Jean knew, that this didn't matter right now at all - not when they had slowly realised they were unable to let go.
And in her heart, she had already made her decision - the past was gone, over. Living it once, was more than enough - even for her. Her Lord of Twilight was no more, and it wouldn't do her good to linger on what she couldn't fix, and didn't know how to in any case.
Her real life was now, in the present. And whatever future fate had in store for her was not with the shadow of someone, who had existed once upon a Universe. But instead, it lay in the sheltering, caring arms of the man, whose heart she could hear thudding in unison with her own, as they rested in each other's embrace.
However, all too soon, they were abruptly thrust back to reality, when both heard Betsy's call in their minds `We have trouble guys!'
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Couple of minutes later, those of the Mansion's instructors that were still home had gathered in the Control Room, all in their battle uniforms - Wolverine grunting about the urgent meeting, which had apparently caught him in the shower, judging by his wet hair.
Jean had arrived with a towering Magneto right behind her - a fact, which had, thankfully, escaped Logan's attention; but not Betsy's, who threw a smug smirk at Neal, before turning to her telepathic friend.
“Mystique just called asking for you or the Prof, but since neither of you was immediately available; she said to call back ASAP.” Before she had finished her sentence however, Jean was already dialling the necessary number; while the purple-haired woman continued, as the other one waited, receiver in hand “I've already contacted Charles, and he and Moira' are on their way, though Warren is probably stuck in traffic.”
But no sooner had she uttered that, and said mutant walked hurriedly through the door and took his place right next to her, giving her a quick kiss on the lips, which made the others roll their eyes “Darned bottle necks - thank goodness I got these! It was so good to stretch them, after a whole evening of restraints. ” he sighed content; spreading his wings and letting them fall over the back of his seat.
Meanwhile, Magneto's attention was focused solely on the redhead, who was still waiting for someone to pick up on the other end. She cursed under her breath “I hate these people! Can't they get the bloody phone…Oh, finally! The National Security Department? Yes, pass-code 0911BH12.
“Excellent! I'd like to speak with Chief special operative Raven Darkholme - tell her it's the Centre, she'll understand. And make it quick, it's urgent! Okay,” she rolled her eyes “I'll hold. What else, in hell, does he think I'd do?!” her annoyance at the employee made the silver-haired mutant unable to suppress a small smile - he didn't envy the smug guy, if Jean ever got hold of him.
“Oh, thank God! Raven? Yes, it's me - sorry for the delay. How pressing is it? Are you serious” The sheer force of the unpleasant surprise in Jean's voice made all the others stand a bit back in their seats - their concentration fully on her. “When did this happen? Where was the Brotherhood?
“Fury did what?! Oh, that explains a lot…” she added in a pensive tone “How can he be such an idiot? Yeah, tell me about it…I'll pass it on to them, don't worry!
“Let me check.” Jean turned to Angel, who was sitting closest to the main computer “Warren, can you switch it on - thanks!” she put in, while he did as asked. “Yes, it's on - they'll upload immediately. We'll discuss it and we'll get back at you - deal? Thanks for the warning - we'll be prepared.” Jean visibly relaxed, continuing on a much more laid-back note “Yup, all's otherwise fine - you know how it is round here. They do? Well, of course, there's no problem - only drop us a line, for when exactly we should get our house insurance updated and the fire-fighting system ready!” she joked, chuckling “Thanks again. And you're entirely welcome! Good luck, bye.”
Hanging up, Jean noticed the surprise in Erik's eyes as to the actually friendly way she and Mystique had conversed; especially, given it was undeniably sincere. So, she added, answering his unspoken question; as she took her own place next to him, his hand gently squeezing hers in an effort to relieve her stress at least a bit “Yup - we're on friendly terms with all of them now. You'd be amazed at the wonders, which being a team, works on people's relations.”
Just then, Moira and Xavier entered, a bit flushed from being in a hurry. “What is the problem?” the Professor asked calmly, while he and his companion settled down. Jean sighed “Nothing much - only, apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. screwed up and they need our help to clean up the mess.” Xavier frowned, pensive “Still, if Raven called us, it's bound to be serious...” he moved to their main computer and opened the files, Mystique had just sent them. As he scanned them over, at the same time as the others did, his frown progressively deepened “Exactly as I feared...”…