That's what happens when you try to find inspiration for your X-Men story and you start watching HoHH videos on youtube. You need to watch the Haunting of Hill House to understand the references, otherwise it's a scary follow up of the Westchester Incident.
The ships of Emma/Scott and Warren/Jean are temporary thus not tagged properly, thanks for your patience with something that might not be your cup of tea.
I hope you all like it, hopefully it will be small and not too scary.
It's not a crossover and it's not a fix it story on both ends.
The Haunting of Westchester Mansion
The lady with the Bent Neck
'This is Jean Grey's voice mail, please leave a message.'
'Jean….' Storm chocked through the tears. 'I called Scott but he couldn't talk,' She tried through the tears, she swallowed hard. 'I know you're probably busy but Marie is not picking it up either… I, I'm afraid about Kurt,' Ororo tried as she remained shivering inside her car. 'You know how he is,' she tried, her voice begging. 'Please call me when you hear this.' She added broken.
Ororo remained inside the cold car, her eyes burning from the fever as she looked at her call history, nobody had picked it up. She opened her wallet, trying to find some cash, a lone photograph fell from the inside on the car's pedals. She picked it up and sniffed as she looked at the man in the photograph. Warm dark eyes, beautiful face, seemingly unstoppable, Logan, her husband, only now he was gone, lost and away, probably dead. As she raised her eyes from the worn photograph she gasped as she saw the lone figure before her, dressed in a gown, white skin, white hair, hollow eyes, bent neck with the bone pocking against the skin, outside the car.
Ororo screamed and wailed, shutting her eyes closed as the sobs ripped out of her mouth, leaving her with no breath and a piercing pain in her chest as she fought for her sanity. Not true, she's not true, she's just a side-effect from Charles' seizure.
1…2…3…4…5…6…7…
When she opened her eyes again, the figure was gone as the rain kept on raging around her, caused by herself. She took a shaky breath and turned on the engine of the car.
'This is Jean Grey's voice mail, please leave a message,'
'Hey, Jean,' Marie said to nobody, feeling stupid for talking more to her adoptive-sister's voice mail rather than her adoptive-sister herself. 'I guess ya're busy but pick up the bloody phone.' Marie snapped and took a deep breath. ' 'Ro has called me like a thousand times but I was at work, can you check with her? I'll stay at a…. friend's house tonight. Scott is not answering either. I think she wants something about Kurt, or Logan… I dunno, we had a fight, I'll tell you about it tomorrow, can you find her? Thanks.' Marie shut the on-going call to the voice mail and sighed as she wiped away the sweat from her brow with her gloved hand.
Nowadays she couldn't take them off even in her sleep. Every touch made her jump but she knew it wasn't her powers, it was these bloody years in the mental house of Westchester and the upcoming anniversary of the Westchester Incident didn't help matters. She returned to her date's bedroom, convinced to stay awake as she hated seeing the smiley face again and the short figure at the corner watching her.
'This is Scott Summers, leave a message.'
'Scott, it's Jean... 'Ro called me but I was busy, they fought with Marie, please find 'Ro? You're closer to her. I'll take care of M when she shows up. They both sounded distraught on the phone. Please find 'Ro, she's worried about Kurt. And Scott, don't forget, Rachel and Nathan will be waiting for you on Saturday morning, after breakfast… don't be late, please, and… don't come with Emma, please... you know how Rach gets around her... Thanks….'
'Yes?' Erik picked up the phone and frowned as he tried to listen to the frail voice.
'Erik?' Ororo's voice from the other end made him stand up from his bed, it was the dead of the night in the east cost.
'Yes, 'Ro, it's me, tell me,' Erik tried to remain calm, it was so rare an occurrence for any of the five to call him. 'Where are you, dear?' he asked as he could hear a lot of noise from the line.
'I – I'm fine,' Ororo tried but Erik knew something was very wrong, he could hear the engine of a car rushing into a road, he could also hear the noise of the rain.
'Have you taken your medicine, Ororo?' Erik asked a silence greeted him for a moment.
'Yes, of course,' she replied as she suppressed a sob.
'Where are you going, dear?' Erik tried, Ororo was sensitive and vulnerable to loud voices.
'Uhm, home, back home.' Ororo said truthfully and Erik shut his eyes in defeat.
'No, listen, Ororo, I need you to pull over and stay wherever you are. I will find Jean, she will come and pick you up, or Scott, he's closer to you, just pull over and tell me where you are. Ok?' Erik tried but although he could hear her stopping the car, he would swear she was reaching her destination already.
'OK, I love you all very much, I'll wait.' Ororo's voice was oddly clear for a moment as she lied to him, unable to pretend. 'I couldn't find the rest, please tell them I love them,' the line was cut and Erik was left with the phone on his ear, a tear falling down his cheek.
Jean looked at the photograph of the woman before her, a beautiful lady in her late forties, rosy cheeks, smooth skin. Patricia Blake. Jean looked at the corpse, cleaned and embalmed, it had taken her all day. The final stage of putting on the make up and then she could finally have dinner. She had to hide these bruises and the stiches, the deathly white lips, the massive opening from the impact on the stairs of her house had been covered by her raven hair, thank God she was had black hair. Jean had done a good job, this woman's children had suffered in the hands of their father as domestic violence was the cause of their mother's death but at least their final image of hers would be beautiful, fixed, in total contrast with what they were used on while she was alive.
Jean couldn't help but remember her own mother's funeral, the casket was closed, her mother had been too destroyed for a final farewell, the car accident had been horrific, all due to Jean's powers. She remembered reading the mortician's mind by accident, how her mother had been mutilated from the waist down, her right side also destroyed. Jean's first kill, her own mother. The years following, at the institute had given her joy, a husband and two children but the Incident had bared her of all that, stigmatized her and the kids in a worst way than the Phoenix Force, she had ran away.
She had became a mortician herself as her powers had never been the same after the Incident, out of control again and unable to focus, she preferred to live with her children and their familiar thoughts and dead people, they didn't speak nor think nor project anything, their silence had turned into her peace.
She had tried to stay with her husband at first but the nightmares both during day and night made her dangerous. She loved him too dearly to kill him too like she had done by accident with her mother. Their minds had been linked closely since their marriage, he was in the danger zone and he had been lost himself after the chaos their lives descended into. She almost killed him twice, making him close up into his mind even more, pretending nothing had happened and slipping away more and more. Their minds were not clear, eyes always watched them, whispers crept inside their heads. The dead and the handicapped returned at night, along all their fallen friends and enemies through the years.
The Seizure started five years ago, it only never ended, leaving them trembling in fear and desperation under the moonlight but even in the sunlight. Jean and Scott were alike, too alike, they turned the terror inward, became unyielding and unkind, cold and stiff, teachers without a school, heroes without an enemy to fight as their own mentor destroyed them. They fought and they screamed, they turned at the only familiar person that was left standing, each other. Apart, their nightmares at least didn't leave them speechless and shaking, only sobbing and gasping. Their bond only magnified their grief and terror. Scott decided to push everything away, blame it on Erik while Jean needed to embrace the pain in her desperate hope to deal with it, she blamed Charles. Their different cope mechanisms were another reason for them to fight. Jean needed silence, Scott preferred to speak, write about what happened. Jean felt the living needed justice, Scott felt the dead needed redemption, that was the final crack between them. His book became a best-seller and the final nail in the casket of their marriage. Jean took Marie with her across the States, Scott remained closer to Kurt and Ororo. Scott and Jean's children were the only reason they didn't fall into alcohol like Marie, in drugs like Kurt or in medication like Ororo, but that didn't mean they were alright and they knew that.
Emma became a substitute to Jean and Warren became a substitute of Scott, not because there were strong feelings, but because there weren't. These two had been out and away from the Hell the X-Men had lived and that had been enough. They both needed someone who couldn't understand them, yet reassured them that everything would be alright, because they simply couldn't understand what they were talking about.
Jean felt two pairs of eyes watching her as she remained the only living inside the room with the two silver tables, only one was occupied. Touching her mind with their presence, her head snapped towards the doors of the morgue, it was slightly open and a shimmering eye was looking at her.
'Shit,' she whispered as she let down the pallet with the extra lasting foundation. She moved outside the morgue and closed the door behind her as she faced her two children. Rachel was seven, her telepathy already on because of the Incident, her left eye shimmering with a flicker of fire. Nathan was nine, the same deformity on his own eye, his hair had turned white that night because of the strain he went through, His telepathy igniting, unconsciously saving at least a dozen of students as he engulfed himself, Rachel and some other children in a cocoon of power during the seizure. Valiant and brave, they were true Summers, even if nourished and loved by the also kind and honest Worthington. 'What have I said about the morgue?' Jean asked sternly at her kids, they both looked down and then back at their mother.
'Never to enter,' Nathan replied honestly and Jean raised her brows in an obvious manner. She would swear there was a lone figure unmoving down the corridor's turn to the stairs but she shook away the notion, her mind and its bloody tricks. Jean refocused as Nathan took her smartphone from his jacket's pocket and gave it to his mother.
'Warren's busy on the phone of the office, it hasn't stopped buzzing. We saw Dad's number, and Aunt 'Ro's and Aunt Marie's numbers, they've been calling.' Nathan explained and Jean sighed and frowned as she checked the screen, seven unanswered calls, all in one day from them, and a call from a random number, for a moment she felt her powers tingling, it must had been Kurt from the rehab center.
'Go back upstairs, ask Warren to micro dinner and fix Netflix for you, go, go, go, I'll be there in a few minutes.' Jean offered finally and kissed both her children on the head.
'If you talk with Daddy, will you tell him to come early on Saturday?' Rachel asked as Nathan was already moving towards the stairs, and the lonely figure standing at the end of it.
'Of course, sweetie, now go back upstairs, please.' Jean told her daughter before she could kiss her cheek. Rachel nodded and rushed behind her brother as Nathan was already turning in the corner.
Jean looked at the calls, unsure who to call. She finally chosen as she hit her finger against the touchscreen with more force than needed. Scott's voice greeting her from the other end of the line made her stomach drop instead of warm at the sound of it.
'Jean?' he asked, his voice hoarse.
'Scott? What's wrong?' Jean asked as she touched the doorknob of the morgue chamber with her other hand, ready to re-enter the place and finish her job.
'Jean…' Scott tried to speak and gulped down. 'Uhm, I…. Erik called and it's about 'Ro,' Scott tried to explain as Jean opened the door. Inside the room with the two silver tables, Patricia wasn't alone anymore. The woman in her coat was laying on the second table, sitting up and looking at Jean, dressed in 70's fashion, her clothes destroyed on the waistline, her legs smashed, her dark ginger hair blooded as half the scull was smashed, the right eye missing from its socket in a mess of flesh and hair down to the cheekbone. Elaine Grey's lips had been intact, however, even her lipstick was on as Jean's mother smiled brightly at her daughter and extended her right crashed hand towards her only child. Jean remained speechless, her knees going weak as Scott's voice was heard through the phone.
' Ro returned to the mansion… Jean... She…She killed herself.' His voice was strained as Jean's eyes remained on the image of her mother's inviting, mauled form.
Ok, I hope you liked it, I'm not even sure how the first chapter was formed, I only hope I am not the only one seeing the characters of HoHH and X-Men so similar to each other.
Please comment?
Should I continue with this or put it in the ice?
Thanks for reading.
