A/N: I know, people. G'head and shoot me. It's no more than I deserve. I'm P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C! In big, bold, capital letters. I just can't stop writing new fics! Urgh! I hate myself, ya'll know that? But our internet's been down and I couldn't write up new chapts due to busyness and high school. So, when I was able to get connected again, I realized that I forgot what all I was gonna write (#ducks from flying object#) and it'll take me a while to recover that and/or find new inspiration. (#'Ouch! That hurt!'#) I'm sorry for the inconveniences, but I promise I'll update my other two X-Men stories as soon as I'm able. Not to mention my LOTR fic, for those of you who also go there. So, while waiting on those others…
Disclaimer: blah, di-dah di-dah.
Summery: Dreams haunt the remaining X-Men. What will they do when those nightmares become reality? Is the alteration about Scott dismayingly coming true? Is Jean, though once corrupted herself, gonna be able to help them?
Apologies: Sorry, but I love the evil Scott (not like that, mind you. My flame is my boyfriend and Orlando Bloom) and slight Logan/Scott friendship. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but no flames, pleez! Remember that this has almost no relation to the comics; therefore it is just for fun.
Storm was haunted. It was the same every night. Her dreams were…unnatural. Those whom she thought of as her siblings were haunting her dreams. The very same every night. She knew it meant something, but didn't know what. A premonition? No, that wouldn't make sense. Insanity? No, that wouldn't fit, either. What does this mean?
It was in the dead of the night. All was silent. Storm, in her X-Men uniform, was walking absentmindedly towards the three headstones out in the back lawn. Something drew her towards them. She didn't know what, but something was calling her.
She stopped before all three. For a few brief seconds, she just stood, watching as if waiting for something. Then it happened. Jean and Scott's voices filled her head so suddenly that
she recoiled and dropped to her knees, clutching both temples.
"Storm."
"Storm." Jean and Scott's voices were frightening. Ghost-like.
"Can you hear us?"
"We're still here."
"Help us, Storm."
"We're not dead."
"We're here."
"Right here."
"Get us outta here."
"It's coming for us, Storm."
"We need your help."
"It won't let us go."
"Please, help us, Storm."
"I'm trying," Ororo struggled, opening her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to do."
"The lake, Storm."
"The lake. Go to the lake.
"Alkali, Storm."
"Go to Alkali." Ororo closed her eyes again, wanting the terrifying voices to go away. Scott and Jean were dead and she knew it. But despite all of this, she was getting scared.
Storm suddenly had the urge to open her eyes again. She was standing on the edge of a beach of the lake. The moon danced merrily on the water's surface. She felt strangely at peace. She felt happy of all things here. But her peace was broken by, "Thank you, Ororo." The two voices said in unison. Storm turned, her foot slipping and making her fall down into the water about her feet. She looked up. Jean in her red garb and Scott in his despair/messed garb were standing over her, their black, emotionless eyes staring into her brown ones. They spoke in thanks, but their words were killingly malicious, "Thank you, Ororo. You've set us free." They grabbed her collar and shoved her into the water, not letting go. "You saved us. Set us free, Ororo." Storm wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but she had hardly any oxygen in her lungs. Her air supply was quickly running out. Her world began to blacken slowly out as she heard the evil tones over and over again, "You saved us, Storm…Storm…Storm…Storm…"
"Storm. Storm! Storm!" Kitty, a.k.a, Shadowcat, was trying desperately to wake her teammate for she was screaming in terror and rasping for more breath. Eventually, she came to. "Are you okay?"
After frightenly staring at Kitty for a second or two, beads of sweat trickling down her face, Ororo answered. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm…fine." She then turned his back to her and said in a soft, yet shaky, voice, "It was…just a dream."
Unfortunately, that was too far from the truth…
"…Therefore, I respectfully resign my commission. I feel I am needed more elsewhere. And that is where I'll stay. Respectfully, Dr.—formally Ambassador—Hank McCoy." Dr. McCoy, a.k.a., Beast—as he sat at his desk in the X-Mansion infirmary—finished his letter to the President. He was staying at the school for good, this time.
Oh, joy. The worst was over and Magneto was no longer a threat. But battle scars still covered himself and the X-Men. The Professor—the heart and soul of the school—was gone. His dear friends—Scott Summers and Jean Grey—were no longer, as well. But amidst despair, life must go on.
Beast wasn't so keen to give up his place as Ambassador, but he felt it was the right thing to do. The school needed him, the team certainly needed him, Storm really needed him. The family comes first, not the government. Sure, it was harder to run the school with three staff members…well, dead, so Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was where he was needed most.
But, lately, he'd been feeling uneasy around Ororo. She tries to act perfectly normal, but he knows what happens when she goes to sleep. Night after night, she's plagued by horrific nightmares. Little did he know that she wasn't the only one…
Logan traveled farther north. It was where he was when he met Rogue, before the attack in the bar, and when he was known as the King of the Cage. But he couldn't even go back to that. Not after what's happened. In fact, he didn't even know why he was going back to Canada. He had nowhere to go there. Secretly, he even came to call the school his home. But he couldn't go back. Why? He's the Wolverine. He's always been alone. He assumed he always will be. He roamed alone long before the fun with the X-Men began, and will continue even after. He's the Wolverine. He doesn't need anybody.
He looked at his watch to discover that it was 1:37 A.M. he wasn't surprised, somehow, yet dreadfully tired. He pulled the motorcycle over by the side of the road (a little souvenir in remembrance of 'ol Cyke, he told himself, sheepishly.) and carried it over to a cluster of trees. There wasn't a town—much less a hotel—for miles. Might as well make 'camp' under a tree. He was too tired to go on, anyways. He tilted his head back a bit as he sat against a tree and, before he knew it, was asleep.
Danger Room session. Himself, Jean, Storm, Bobby, Scott and Colossus were defending the school from attacking mutants. Obviously from the Brotherhood. He and Scott were hindering the retreat. As a large flaming timber flew just over their heads, they ducked behind a low brick wall.
"This isn't going so well," Scott panted.
"I know. I told you we shouldda rounded up the rest of the team for this session--" but Scott's attention was now turned passed Wolverine and to a smirking Pyro. "--this is really impossible with just half a dozen of us."
"Logan." Scott didn't look back at him, but hoped to turn his attention to where his own was.
"I'm tellin' ya, this wasn't such a good idea."
"Logan."
"Panicking isn't gonna help us."
"Logan!"
"What?" Before Scott answered due to lack of time, he threw himself towards Logan, causing them to practically fly top speed toward another cover. They slammed hard on the ground behind the back of a truck. Scott landed on top of Logan, practically laying on him. Wolverine looked at Scott, amazed, yet shocked. He fiercely rolled over where they switched positions "How the hell did you do that?"
Scott did the same treatment to where they were back in the same position, "Do what?"
"What just happened?" Scott looked at himself for a split second, then stood up and headed back to the backlines were some of the other X-Men were. "Scott!" Scott continued to walk forward, even through the destruction and exploding going on around him. Logan caught up, grabbed his shoulder, and gently—yet quickly—turned him around. There was something he wasn't telling him. And being Wolverine, Logan wanted to know, "Hey, what's up with you? You're acting…weird." Scott turned to walk away again, but Logan jerked him facing him again, holding his forearm. "Hey. I want an answer."
"You're not getting one, Logan," Logan was about to make a come-back, but Scott hastily added, "Cause there's nothing to explain."
"Oh, really?" he stopped him for the third time. Then settling his voice a little more, he said, "Listen, if there's something out of place, we need to know."
"Nothing's outta place if I save your ass, Logan."
"Nobody's that agile, Scott. Not unless you have a mutation that allows you to do it. And if I didn't know any better, I'd think you have a Class Five Phoenix corruption just like Jean." Scott's expression darkened.
"Don't ever say that to me again, Logan." He walked off again, both of them ignoring the events going on around them.
Logan didn't stop him this time, but followed and pressed the matter, "Why? You got something to hide from us? Something you won't even tell Jean? Or even the Professor?"
Scott stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to face Logan with a cold expression. Logan could've sworn Scott's eyes turned black with Phoenix-like fury behind the ruby-quartz visor. Scott immediately let a strong optic blast at him, knocking him back quite away. Just before impact on a pile of burning rubble…
With a shout, Logan awoke. He looked as if he was in a -10 degree room, but it was a hot summer night. Logan was a hardy guy, but a simple dream like this one made him quite jumpy.
Suddenly, Logan's new cell phone rang with the rhythm of 'Eye of the Tiger'. He opened it and took the call. It was Ororo Munroe. "Yeah."
"Logan?"
"Storm. Any reason why you're calling me? I don't really feel like talking. I had a rough night."
"I know. So did I. But, Logan, I think you're gonna be very interested in why I called."
"Why? Is there something wrong?" he asked, sounding more serious and concerned.
"Logan, Hank and I were taking a walk in the grounds and…found a hole in front of Jean's headstone."
Logan was silent for a moment, then, "What?"
"She's alive again, Logan. I think you'd better come."
A/N: God, I'm a (#bleep#) sometimes, huh? Another cliffhanger. Well, I guess I just wanna see if any ya'll want more…that is, if you haven't abandoned me for not updating my other stories, lol. Pleez review. If ya'll do, I vow that no matter how badly I get writerz block again, I will not start another story until those others are done, -k-? We have a bargain? Good, then it's settled! B'bye!
