A Fire in the Sky

by Princess of Monkeys

Okay, I know everyone reading my big multi-chapter Romy epic thingie is going to howl, but I went and did it- I wrote a story about Jean. Why, you ask? Well, simply put, I don't hate Jean. I'm probably one of the few Romy writers who doesn't. I like her just fine. So there.

Time wise, this takes place a few months after Ascension II. And the poem in the beginning is mine, so if you like it and want to use it for something that's great, but just ask, please!

Let me know what you think,kay?

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i am a flickering shadow dancing in darkness

with an elemental being undulating on warm currents

breathing a whispered caress of language

that moves with fierce light across my skin.

crackling combustion dazzles me blind

with sudden visions of the future-

these split second rainbows glistening,

fading and blackening to ash before my eyes.

and it rises higher into the night,

spreading vast wings across the stars

consuming, devouring, alive

a sentient will coming closer, closer-

and i reach into the flames, to touch the heart of my fear,

and am not burned.

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Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I see fire behind my eyes. I look at my own reflection, and instead of myself, Jean Grey, I see someone- something- else. I catch a glimpse of a being great and vast, flying through the cosmos on wings of flame.... but then I blink, and it's gone, and I'm just me again. But it's not always enough, anymore.

For months now, ever since we fought Apocalypse for the last time, I've been dreaming of fire. Of a girl dancing in the inferno, rising up into the night as a great bird, flying through the sky. I always thought it was Amara- she is a living flame, after all- and it certainly wouldn't be the first time I've gotten sucked into someone else's dreams.

But last night, I saw the truth. I had the dream again, and this time there was more. I saw the girl again, dancing in the blaze- and then she turned her head, and it was me. Me, blazing with power, burning down the world- and laughing, the haze of madness in my eyes. I woke up drenched in sweat, sobbing and shaking- and bleeding. I'd smashed the mirror with my telekinesis, again.

But for some reason I was standing amongst the shards, and I saw myself in every one of them, a thousand little Jean-slivers, like a thousand different universes- but in all of them I was her, the insane girl in the fire, laughing. I screamed, but nobody came, and when I looked out the window the world was gone, everything blackened and burnt to the ground. And I screamed again, kept screaming until I woke up for real, Scott running through the door and everyone else gathered around fearfully outside in the hall.

"It's just a dream, Jeannie, it's okay, it's just a dream," he kept saying over and over, trying to calm me, himself, everyone. But over his shoulder I saw a bare spot on the wall where my mirror used to be, all the broken pieces on the floor; I saw blood on his bare feet, staining my sheets. No matter what he said, I know it wasn't just a dream.

I now I'm changing, I can feel it in my bones, in my soul. Ever since the day I lost control of my powers, I've been different somehow, stronger. I shouldn't have been able to find Scott out in the desert, when even Cerebro and all the Professor's power failed to locate him. I certainly shouldn't have been able to take on the Professor himself, while he was under Apocalypse's control- he's the world's most powerful telepath, under the control of an infinitely powerful evil mutant, and I'm no more than a half- taught little girl, compared to that! But I did it, and I survived.

I found Scott, I fought the Professor and came out alive, with my mind intact- and nobody can explain any of it. And what's even worse, the Professor won't look me in the eye, won't let me inside his mind anymore- he knows something is happening, he saw something inside Apocalypse's mind- and he won't tell me.

But I know something too. There's something out there searching for me; I can feel it coming a little bit closer every day. And every day I change a little more, as the power coiled inside me grows. I know it's inevitable, this transformation. Whatever is out there will find me, change me, and I'll rise in a blaze of glory from the ashes of everything that was Jean Grey. I'll be more powerful than anyone, anything, the world has ever known.

Sometimes I want it so badly, the power, the glory, the endless oneness with the universe that I feel I'm so close to grasping. It seems like it would be so wonderful- I could do so much, be so much, with that kind of power inside me. But then when I wake at night crying, scared to sleep and see that vision of maniacal laughter amidst such destruction, I wonder if the price for the power I want will end up being too high.