TEN YEARS LATER

The light was blinding, and horribly painful. His mind searching for the link to Emma, to see if she knew anything. Hell, he wondered if she was even still there. There was a feeling like being jerked backward all at once, and he realized, in a rather detached way, that he was falling backward, as though he had been close to an explosion. There was no sound, which he noted, but was not surprised by. Everything seemed unreal, as though it were happening to someone else entirely. The thought that it might not be happening to him flashed through his mind, though he didn't know where it came from. Maybe it had come from nowhere. Maybe it was time to get up and take charge of the situation.

He didn't move. Not much, at least. Was he bound? What the hell was going on? His time with Emma had taught him how to defeat bonds (much to her amusement), so he tried to do that. The feeling of disconnection was gone now, and he realized how relieved he was. He could hear the others around him again, and he hoped to God they hadn't been hurt too terribly. Within moments, Scott realized two things. The first was that the lights above him were merely fluorescent bulbs on a white background. The second was that he wasn't able to move much at all, though he couldn't understand why that was. It felt like he was in Jell-o. Very heavy, lead-laced Jell-o. No matter what he tried to move, it either wouldn't budge, or barely moved. He could move his arms a little, though, and even that was achingly painful.

There was movement next to him, a cord waving. With a little deduction, he realized the cord moved when he twitched his arm. "Wanda! What have you done?" His voice surprised him. It was so weak! And even that much activity tired him beyond belief. He laid back, closing his eyes, wondering if he was going to pass out now or not. After a moment, the exhaustion subsided, and he opened his eyes again. The light was bright, but his glasses shielded him from the glare. He could hear a couple of the others groaning about it. At least that was one pain he wouldn't have to deal with. Though it struck him, after a moment, that one of the voices was out of place.

"Scott?" The voice that replied to his was achingly familiar, and Scott felt his entire chest tighten for a different reason. How? None of this made sense. He moved his head toward the voice, seeing only a curtain. Jean was here. He didn't bother wondering how that was possible. He scoured his mind for any of the people he had linked with. Only one lit up, his connection with the Professor. He concentrated on it, and found himself met with boundless, unbridled joy, which was confusing as hell, but oddly encouraging.

He found his voice again, and tried to talk as loudly as he could. "Jean? Who else . . . ?" He wanted to keep talking, but he was so tired. He nearly passed out from the effort, but he heard the curtain being pulled aside, and tensed himself for whatever was coming. A cheerful woman about Emma's height (in her favorite heels), with soft brown hair and pouty lips walked in. Her motions were precise, and her expression was curious, mixed with something else. Something good, or at least Scott assumed so.

Her accent said New England, and mirrored the joy he'd found in the link with Xavier. "Oh my God. It's a miracle." She quickly walked over, her body moving the same way that Emma's did, though it was shaped entirely differently. She laid a slightly cold hand on his forehead, and began checking the equipment around him. "Spectacular. It seems as though you have full mental functionality." Her voice was almost identical, and if Scott closed his eyes, he couldn't tell the difference between her and the woman he was coming to love. His heart twisted again, and he was getting tired of that very rapidly.

"Who?" The word was nearly a sigh, and Scott felt as though his brain were about to explode. What the hell had Wanda done? He squinted at her, realizing that his visor was differently shaped. How strange. Nothing made sense. The nurse (because he figured that was her function, since she was in white scrubs) wrote some things down, and he felt a familiar tickle in his mind, which he immediately stamped down. She blinked and rubbed her temples, looking shocked.

"Very effective. Professor Xavier will be proud. I'm Emma Frost, I was called in to help with your care. I really should call Miss Braddock I suppose. But she's so busy these days- I'm sorry, you're probably a little disoriented. How are you feeling, Scott?" Her tone went through a variety of emotions, and her face mirrored them. It was almost bizarre, seeing her face take on so many emotions in such a short span of time. The whole time she talked to him she made eye contact, or what eye contact she could. Even that was warm, as though she regarded him as a equal, rather than an inferior being who had to prove himself.

He blanched, and she quickly moved to check his pulse and brain functions, afraid that he might be relapsing. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Jean called her a bitch. She turned toward the curtain to his right, confused. "I think I'll wait until the Professor gets here. . . I don't want to make this harder for you than it has to be." She looked confused and mystified, which looked odd to Scott, on her face. Even if the nose was different, now that he was mostly conscious, it was obviously her face. What had happened to them? He felt anger, real true anger, that this had been done to Emma. When she walked to check on the curtain to his right, she moved more tentatively.

There were more voices now. Another woman, Lorna, and Alex were talking softly, but he didn't think that was for any reason other than the inability to sustain any kind of energy. Beyond that there were even more voices. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a boisterous English woman walked in, asking Emma how the patients were. His heart monitor registered the spike, and Emma stroked his arm a little, to settle him. It was just a noise. No big deal. Emma's reply slid over his mind a little, and Scott found himself drifting off to sleep again. If he ever found Wanda, he was going to wring her neck.

***

The next time Scott woke up, it was because something had touched his neck. He jerked, still surprised at how little he could move. Emma didn't jump, but smiled down at him, giggling a little. "You all are so jumpy. I'm sorry. It's time for your bath. I thought you'd stay asleep through it. I suppose I shouldn't have confused being in a coma for being a heavy sleeper." Her fingers tucked his hospital gown back down. "Are you feeling better?" Her tone was chipper and cheerful, as though nothing had ever happened between them that would merit any other response. He guessed Jean must be elsewhere, now. Maybe that was for the best. One lost lover was enough for now.

"Emma," his voice was stronger now. "What happened?" He felt so confused and tired. The strong, beautiful woman he loved had been turned into a sad mockery, and there were even more of his friends here. How would he deal with seeing them all so different? What if Alex hated him, or Henry was a stupid sheep, or any other number of things. He wondered if he was more angry or afraid. It would be better if he wasn't so helpless. If Emma had been an enemy (and at the moment, he had no proof she wasn't), she could have killed him easily.

She smoothed his hair a little, as though she wanted to wipe those thoughts away. He wasn't sure what to make of her, really. "May I sit with you, Mr. Summers? I find that it often makes people more at ease when they are able to look the person they are speaking to in the eye." As she said it, she pressed the button to raise the bed into the upright position. He gave her a nod, wanting, needing to know what she thought was going on. Maybe it was a ruse? That was more than possible. She sat gracefully, and Scott saw that she was, in fact, wearing heels. It looked odd, under her scrubs.

She noticed his glance, or perhaps his thoughts. "Ah. I was called away from my normal business to help here, and I forgot to bring more comfortable shoes. Luckily, these are the most comfortable heels I own, so I'm not ready to flee for the sake of my feet just yet. What do you remember, Scott? Before you woke up?" She shifted between the two topics with little flair, as though they were still the same subject.

He told her about it. About Wanda's insanity, the way that Xavier had been acting, the bright light. . . all of it. She listened patiently, her face set into a pleasant mask. Finally he finished, and just lay there, feeling even more exhausted. Her face was unreadable, and he felt slightly better, oddly enough. A dangerous Emma he could handle. A mild-mannered caretaker Emma was just wrong.

"You were having quite the dream, then. But the brain does what it must to remain sane, I suppose. None of that happened, Scott." Her tone was soft and understanding, perfectly reasonable. He felt his heart sink. "You've been in a coma. It's been years. This is the first time we've met, beside when you first woke up." She sighed and stood. "Miss Grey had a different story, but all the rest are variations on that theme. It's so strange that you would all dream the same thing. But it was, I assure you, just that."

"She died. . . this is all Wanda's fault." He felt so heavy, like his heart was made of lead. "I- How could that have happened. What do you think happened?" She didn't love him. She didn't even remember him. That hurt. It hurt a lot. But at the same time, it was a relief. He wished that things would only feel one way, for once. Even his weakness was a mixed blessing, in his mind. It relieved him of the heavy duties that had been put on him his whole life. It forced other people to take charge. He wondered if he was burning out again. Bad timing for it. He'd deal with that later, once things were back to normal.

Emma started to talk, and he realized that she was going to tell him what had happened. Zoning out was too easy. It had to be part of Wanda's design. "You were battling Krakoa. It took months for the second team to find you. You were being held in some manner of psionic prison. . . we had to bring the sentient plant that was holding you here. Since then the Professor, and later Miss Braddock and myself, have been trying to bring you back. When we broke through, you awoke. Since then you have all been in and out of sleep." She made sure her tone was even and matter of fact. "It has been. . . some time. That is why you are having such a difficult time moving. You and your compatriots have been under for over a decade."

When she spoke, her tone wasn't sympathetic. These were facts to her. It was nice, actually, to have things presented to him by a rational, calm voice. That didn't soften the blow much, though. Truth be told, the words didn't even sound real to Scott. "What? What the hell?" He sat forward, will alone keeping him from falling over. "You're lying. You have to be." She must be trying to trick him. But why? Was this Wanda's doing or hers?

Emma blinked, then exhaled softly, pausing to find the right words. "They said that you would be the most stubborn about it all. Lie back, Scott." She placed her palm on his chest and pushed him until he settled back down. "I will show you everything that has transpired. I have done it for all the others who have come back to their senses, save Jean, who didn't trust me enough." For a moment, her expression showed her annoyance. She moved her hand from his chest to his temple. "Would that help you?"

He didn't answer right away. But information was important, it might even contain the key to breaking through all this. He nodded. She closed her eyes, concentrating. The events passed in a whir of color and motion. At least the ones Emma knew about. Mutants were considered to be equal to humans in every European country and most of the states. The president had a mutant son, who had manifested in the middle of the White House lawn, which had radically changed how he, and the world at large, viewed mutants. Xavier's Institute was now working in co-operation with the government, and Emma was the principal of the first federally funded mutant training facility.

The X-men had been officially disbanded, though there were two other organizations that had taken their place. X-Factor was a government agency that looked into mutant crime. X-Force was a mercenary organization with the same goal. Between them, they managed to get a lot done, though the odds were immeasurable. Mutants were just popping up faster than they could be controlled or recruited. Usually they found the help they needed through outreach programs, but not everyone did as well. More than a couple mutants with unfortunate mutations had been put down by X-Force.

As she was 'speaking', a young boy wandered in. He was no more than ten, and looked up at Emma with large blue eyes. She smiled softly at him, stroking his hair with her free hand as she released Scott from the information dump. "There is one thing that the Professor thought best to keep from you. But I disagree." Her tone indicated that there were many subjects where that was the case. That made him feel a little better. At least some things didn't change.

He eyed the boy, and he knew what it was she was going to say. "Tell me." The child was the spitting image of Cable. Scott felt a certain amount of hysteria creeping up on his brain as he tried to take all the implications in.

She nodded, lifting the boy up on to the bed, so that he was close to Scott. "When we brought Jean here, we discovered that she was pregnant. The Professor has assured her that you are the father of the boy. He was named Nathaniel, after the man who wrote the Scarlet Letter. A rather cruel thing to do, but not inaccurate." She hoped that Scott wouldn't become too upset. Nathaniel had been his adoptive mother's idea, and it certainly was a dignified name, so there wasn't much they could do to talk her out of it. Emma hoped that Scott wouldn't react badly. She couldn't even imagine what she'd do in his place, but it wouldn't be pretty.

He didn't seem to react at all, to her surprise. After a moment, he smiled wanly, reaching an arm out. Though he wanted to touch the boy's face, all he could manage was to pat his knee. The boy gave him a quizzical look. "Dad said he was a cyclops." The boy's tone was blunt. It was also just like the voice that Nathan had used when he was around that age.

Emma giggled a little, and Scott let out a soft laugh. "No, that was his fun pretend name. Like your Mom. Everyone calls her Domino, even though her real name is Amy." Amy? Scott had to hold back another laugh at that. Maybe that was why Domino was so secretive. If things ever went back to normal, he'd have to ask if that was her real name. Not that he thought she'd tell him.

The boy nodded gravely. "Can my pretend name be something cool?" That was the more important thing right now. "I don't want people thinking I only have one eye." He squinted at Scott a little bit. "He's got two, right? The glasses-" He reached out to take them, curious now.

Realizing what the boy was about to do, Scott yelled and scared the boy, who jumped off the bed. This made the little boy yell in return, though out of a different kind of fear. Emma jumped as well, quite shocked. "What in the Lord's name was that?" The boy ran off, no longer curious. Scott settled back, relieved. At least he hadn't hurt the kid.

His reply to Emma's words sounded weary, and he wondered if it was a product of Wanda's spell, or just the sheer amount of information he'd been asked to take in. "You can't take my visor off. It would have killed the boy and you." Despite how his voice sounded, he moved to a more upright posture, and gave Emma his best steely stare.

Emma stared at him for a moment, her expression simply flabbergasted. "But you're conscious. They shouldn't be out of control anymore." She was confused. He wouldn't have known about the lengths they went to in order to make sure his eyes never opened. "Are you unable to control your powers?" It was the only logical answer. She had only a vague idea of what his powers really were, since the emphasis had been on getting them out of the Astral Plane, and not on getting to know them.

He glared at her, thoroughly out of the mood for this game. Emma sighed and stood. "I suppose you'll be fine without a bath for the moment. I apologize for disturbing you, but it is only going to become more jarring as time progresses." She smoothed her scrubs as she stood, as though she were used to finer clothing and took her leave. Her heels clicked loudly on the tile floor, a familiar sound that reminded him again that he missed his home, and no amount of dodged responsibility or rest was going to change that.

Scott rested his head against his pillow, groping for the control to lower his bed. Damn. A lot of things had happened. He was going to need a while to digest all this.

***

Slowly, the group became more and more active. Beside Emma and Betsy, they called in Guido and Jamie to help take care of the X-men. Emma and Betsy attempted to help them distinguish reality from their elaborate group dream. Jamie and Guido helped with physical therapy. Within a couple weeks most were able to stand. Lorna and Jean were able to float with their powers faster than that, and did so gleefully. Even just wandering the lab brought new wonders everyday. Lorna talked about how miraculously fast the computer was, and was soon showing everyone who would tolerate it YouTube videos of cats doing cute things, or random skateboard tricks. She always said, when called on it, that it sure as hell beat brooding over the alternative. Beside, maybe the answer was within the confines of YouTube. You never know. Then she would go back to the laptop ("under ten pounds! ha!"), and find something else to look at.

Jean spent a lot of time looking through the news websites, catching up on the things that were different. She remembered everything. This was an alternate universe, and a pretty damn good one too. She couldn't remember the future the Phoenix had shown her for this place, but she knew that places that didn't draw the entity's attention very much were very much nicer than ones that did. She also eagerly shared all of this, though she was often awkward around Scott. In fact, she tended to avoid him entirely, and duck out of the room when he was present.

Scott worked hard to be able to stand and walk again. He wanted to be let out, to see what had changed with his own eyes. The Professor had come in a few times, to talk with them, reassure them, but he was busier than ever with a student body he claimed was in the thousands, and that was just at this particular campus! It was an amazing and thrilling idea. Maybe this was what they had been working so hard for. Part of him regretted that Emma hadn't come back since she'd left after the visit with Nathan, but he supposed it was for the best. If what she said was true, and she wasn't the woman he'd fallen in love with, it would be better to not see her very often. There was no sense in torturing himself, after all. He had enough of that during his physical therapy sessions.

After a month, most of the group could walk short distances. Scott had been shocked to see Gabriel there, though it took several hours for him to realize why. In his dreams he didn't know he had another brother, which was odd. How could he not remember that? Sure, he wasn't as close to the man as he was to Alex, but that didn't make him instantly forgettable. It was another thing that was confusing and weird, but relatively low on the list. He'd only been introduced to his youngest brother a few days before the incident at Krakoa.

After seeing how all of the students were struggling with their memories, the Professor decided that a group therapy session was in order, so the whole team could see the changes wrought in the eleven years they'd been dreaming from his perspective. Jean looked forward to it eagerly. Scott felt horrible for her. She had taken the news of Nathan's existence rather badly, and spent a lot of time talking to Henry about it, since their relationship was so unsure.

It didn't surprise Scott how much that hurt him. He was becoming more and more certain of this world, and its reality. Alex had embraced it openly, and frequently talked about how ridiculous the dream was. Bobby seemed to agree, but Scott wasn't sure if Bobby really agreed or was just saying so to convince himself. Either way, all of them, including him, were beginning to see this world as real, and the other one as false. But he couldn't deny that it was hard to see Jean and not think of the things she had done in the dream.

The seats for the meeting were uncomfortable. It was the first time Scott had sat on something that didn't have a lot of padding. He hadn't realized how much muscles cushion the body from ordinary things. Now that he had access to a mirror, it was easy to see how much different he looked from the man in his dreams. Even without the frailty of his body (which had shocked him beyond belief the first time he'd seen himself), he had fewer lines on his face, not as many grey hairs. . . this wasn't the face of a man who had lived a hard, painful life.

He shifted frequently as the others got settled. Warren's wings drooped listlessly behind him, but Scott knew how much of an effort it was for him just to lift them that far. Jean sat a couple seats down from him, looking mostly at her hands. Henry was sitting next to her, the least affected by the downtime. Everyone else filed in, slowly. Lorna sat across from Warren, far away from Scott. Alex sat next to him, though that was likely because by the time the man came in the room was nearly full. There was an empty space in the circle, which everyone understood was for the Professor.

He entered smoothly, his chair not making a sound as it hovered. He slid into the open space, smiling proudly at the group. "Welcome, X-men. How have you been adjusting?" It felt like old times, at first. They were just getting ready to suit up for another battle, or have breakfast, or start a Danger Room session.

At first, no one said anything. Finally, Jean piped up. "It beats being dead, I guess." Bobby laughed, but even that was strained. Scott eyed the team, seeing how it had affected them. They all looked weary, and he knew he felt that way too.

The Professor smiled, though there was sadness in it as well. "I am glad that none of you are dead. But your adjustment will be difficult. A lot has changed since we first came into existence. I will show you everything you've missed, if you think you're ready."

There was a moment of silence. Scott found himself nodding, and this was followed by the rest agreeing. Even after the dream, even after all this time, they still looked to him. He felt the familiar weight of leadership, and wondered if it wouldn't break him this time around.

The Professor drew the group into the Astral Plane. It was easier, he said, to show them here, given the amount of time that had passed. They were in the mansion as they remembered it. A tall black woman with white hair was standing imperiously by the door, asking the Professor what exactly he wanted with her, and how it could possibly be more important than her people in Kenya. A short man was leaning against the wall, chewing on a cigar. He was nearly hidden behind a metal man, who towered over everyone there. An impish man with deep blue fur and a tall man with an authoritative air rounded out the group. These are the ones who saved your bodies. They helped Darwin and Gabriel infiltrate the island, though Gabriel was subsequently lost with you all

"But I didn't have the same dream. It was all just nothing." The unfamiliar voice made Scott blink a bit, before remembering the stranger in their midst. The confusion in his voice made Scott feel worse about his own confusion. But at least this man probably wouldn't look to him for answers.

I know. The Professor showed them the rescue, their comatose bodies being brought into the medical facility. It's extremely odd that they all shared that dream in the first place. I almost wonder if Jean's powers created that reality to keep her sane, and since you were all linked to each other when you were knocked out, your minds were swept up into it as well. It makes as much sense as anything else. I only wish we knew more about the island. It was a well-worn thought, and it surprised most of the group to hear him sounding so frustrated. His next words were gentler, as though he had heard the shock at his tone and felt repentant for upsetting them. It has been a puzzle that taxed my mind for over a decade, even now that you're awake, I don't understand. . . by all rights, I don't think you should have woken up.

That statement ushered in another bout of quiet, during which they watched the second batch of X-men fight, train, expand, and eventually split into separate groups. Even as the X-men grew, the ranks of students, mutants with powers that were impractical for battle, or whose temperament was unsuited for the task, began forming. Superheroes were becoming more and more common, and super villains less and less so. Especially shocking to the students was watching Magneto join the institute as a teacher, combining his efforts with Xavier's for the greater good.

Slowly, the X-men began living civilian lives, and the institute truly became a school. Teachers were being recruited straight out of college, including Emma Frost and her mentor Sebastian Shaw.

The last thing Xavier showed, them, though it wasn't the most recent event was the signing of the tolerance act, which stated that all sentient life was to be given equal treatment in the eyes of the law. Xavier had become advisor for X-Factor, a government agency that kept superhuman and alien activity under control. it was manned and led exclusively by mutants.

The end of the simulation and the return to their individual bodies did not break the silence of the group. Even Gabriel, easily the least attached of the group, didn't seem to have anything to say. Scott nodded and stood. "Thank you, Professor. That was beautiful, but you have to understand that it's so incredible, after all that we dreamed, that something like that could be the truth."

There were mumbled of agreement, and Jean was the next to stand. "It's a beautiful world, Professor Xavier, but we have no way of knowing if this is a trick or not." Her voice was a bit numb, but her shoulders were set. Scott smiled a bit. Even if he had no idea what was going on, he could admire her strength.

Bobby shot out of his seat, angry. "After the bullshit our stupid brains spat out at us for years, you guys are acting like this is some kind of burden! How can you possibly prefer that reality to this on?" He nearly shook with rage, and Warren scooted a little away, but remained seated.

He did, however, have something to say. "It's not that we prefer it, Bobby. But the dream was so real, and this all just feels-' He made a vague motion with his hand, then shrugged, "too good to be true." After everything Warren had been through in the dream, Scott could see how he wouldn't trust his perception of reality.

Henry was the next to pipe up. His voice was calm and soothing. Out of all of them, he had changed the least. It had been a relief, in a way. "It does make sense though, from a certain perspective. A mind as active as a telepath's would necessarily be would probably self-stimulate to keep itself from degrading. And we iwere/i linked when we were captured."

Jean huffed a little. "It's not my fault." Her tone was a little irritated. Scott wondered how much of the Jean in their dreams was based on Jean's actual personality. Could this woman become he Phoenix? Would she mentally rape someone? Not to mention the destruction and the pain that the Phoenix had caused. Did her dreams of her actions reflect aspects of her personality? It was a sad thing, in Scott's mind, that he didn't even know if he could trust the people he should be closest to.

Henry turned, surprised at Jean's comment. "I didn't intend to upset you, Jean. I was merely offering a hypothesis." He gave her a consoling pat, and Scott could see that even though Henry's personality had changed the least, he had to most to adjust to. At least all the rest of them were the same shape they'd started in, except older and more fragile.

Gabriel shook his head. "You're all acting like babies. It happened, now we're here. I'm not going to look back on the random shit I dreamt up for the rest of my life. I've already lost ten years, I'm not losing another second." He stood, wobbling a little. Despite that, he was steady on his feet as he went to the door. "I'd suggest you all get over it and quit moping over what never happened."

The door closed softly, but a couple people winced anyway, expecting a loud noise that never came. Alex ran his hand through his hair. "I guess it's my turn to complain or whatever. Honestly. . . I don't even know what to think. I mean. . . I had so much, and now I don't even know where I stand in the world, or with anyone." Scott noticed a slight change in both Alex and Lorna's expression, and wondered what that was about. It would undoubtedly make its way into the light at some point. Everyone looked at Lorna for a minute, but she just shrugged and dug the tips of her toes into the carpet.

Xavier nodded, a soft, enigmatic smile on his face. "I'll let all of you digest that information. The rest of our work will probably be one on one, but this was a good start." His words were kind, like a favorite uncle's. Scott found himself rising, still surprised at how much effort it took. He would probably talk to the Professor later. But for now he just had to get out and get some fresh air.