The children had paired up and were building snowmen of all shape and sizes.
Emma patted down some snow on the head of hers, fondly watching Scott working on the behind.
The Cuckoos were building theirs with a precision and organization that was unparalleled.
They even began to chisel away at the general pillar of snow they had set up, molding with dainty little hands.
Angel had not joined the activity, he was flying somewhere, too snobby to join.
Teen Jean and Teen Scott were working on one together, Jean cast furtive glances at her adult counterpart once in a while.
As Scott trudged to bed, slipping off his snow shoes, he looked outside the hall window at the several snowmen on the ground.
One of the snowmen caught his eye, it was molded and thinner than the rest, and had something familiar on its face. His old visor had been stuck into the head, and it was more of an ice sculpture..of him, than a snowman.
He smiled and went into his room. Illyana was gone, and Scott relaxed in relief.
He settled into bed.
A faint, and unfamiliar sound could be heard through his walls.
He sat up and followed it.
It was almost like a girl's crying.
He pushed open Illyana's door.
There she was, the limbo teen queen, curled up in her bed, shaking.
Scott hadn't thought this was possible.
He crept towards her in the dark.
Standing uncertainly above her, he was not sure what to do in this situation.
Acting on intuition, he slowly got into her bed, and then tentatively wrapped his arms around the young girl, holding her close.
Her shuddering stopped.
In the dark, her voice stated monotonously, "Scott."
He reassured her, "It's okay, I'm here. You're not alone."
Then, acting as a big brother would, he kissed her on the head through her thick blonde hair.
He absent-mindedly rubbed warm circles on her exposed belly.
She responded to his touch, causing him to stop.
"Umm. Illyana, stop that."
Her wicked, monotone voice teased, "Why?"
Scott grunted, "You know why."
Her movements quickened, and Scott gasped out to the dark.
He always knew he was born a dead man.
Emma stared at the tape in hand, VHS no less.
She would have been condescendingly disgusted if she weren't already disgusted with herself.
She never would have guessed it, but it seemed that the older she got, the more she regretted than glorified her past deeds.
Solidifying into diamond, she crushed the tape in her fist and let it crumble into her waste basket.
No one was going to see that.
Becoming flesh again, she sighed, just when things with Scott were beginning to salvage and get better...this ugly blemish in her past had to surface.
He knew about her fun old days, but for it to come up as blackmail now...when she was so close to making things better with the one she knew she loved. It just plain sucked for the former white queen.
Of course some note had clarified that the tape was just a copy of many potential duplicates...No matter...She would speak to Black Widow tomorrow, they had arranged to meet at a bar. That SHIELD agent would surely take care of it, and it would be spoken of no more.
Scott would never find out.
Still, she felt something uncomfortable within her, and it only pained her more.
Things would be fine, better in fact, maybe she'd even let the damn fool put a ring on her finger...Something she never let herself think of.
This was it, she could fuck up no more. She made a promise to herself.
Treading a path in the snow, during a morning walk, she walked passed the snowmen they had built the other day.
She halted, staring stunned at the snow sculpture that had been molded in the likeness of Scott.
His old visor was on the face, and the snow had been packed and refined to be more human-like. One of his old team jackets had even been thrown on the torso snow.
Emma stared at the monument to Scott that her girls had built, not even able to comprehend what the meaning of it could be. They too became stranger as they matured, falling more and more from her telepathic umbilical cord.
Like three does with large white eyes, the Stepford Cuckoos stood behind Emma, staring at her back.
Emma turned and gasped, "Girls! Did you sneak up on me?"
Defensively, Phoebe explained, "We were just being ironic, Jean Grey School has a stupid statue of her..."
Celeste said, "So we were just playing tribute."
Mindee corrected, "Paying."
Celeste declared, "Anyway, you should."
Phoebe finished, "Check on Mr. Summers."
Mindee added, "He's in Illyana's room." The hive mind thought, 'Maybe you can kill her.'
They all smiled blankly as Emma's complexion paled.
Teen Scott and teen Jean stood in the new Xavier School's living room, staring at Magneto who stood before them, tall and bald.
Scott muttered, "How can he-I trust you right now? You're the bad guy, you always were."
Jean agreed, "We were just taught how to fight you, how can we be on the same side now? Nothing makes sense, not this future, nor the later future."
Eric announced, "Children, I am not going to harm you. We are on the same side now fighting for the greater good, my position has been compromised, history is not so simple."
Warren came into the room, gnawing on an apple, "Finally, we're addressing the questions I had all along. If we are so bent on changing things, let's just go back to our present with the knowledge we have to prevent this mess from that point on! Since it seems that us being here now is making the future future worse."
Turning her attention to the blond heir, Jean said sternly, "Warren...I'm not sure you care much about being here or what's going to happen. You haven't taken things seriously, this is the problem with you, rich boy. You are so flippant and lazy about things because you were spoiled your whole life. I'm your friend, think about what this might mean to you if your life were non existent in the future and you could do something about it."
Dropping his apple core to the floor, Warren retorted, "I am not careless about this, or you Jeannie. Think about my life though, nothing worth staying around here to see."
He opened a window and flew out of it swiftly.
Young Scott muttered, "He's mad."
Magneto keenly observed, "Already, the team is dissipated, completely altering how it was between all of you in the beginning. If this were your times, your team would be an easier target than ever for me."
Christopher Muse, AKA Triage, picked up one of Fabio Medina's gold balls, that had come out of the portlier boy as part of his mutation.
He bounced it on the hard icy ground, feeling it out, "This is weird, you play b-ball big guy?"
He threw a solid chest pass at Fabio who caught it with his large hands squarely.
He tossed the ball back to Triage, who ran up to the half set up outdoor basketball court right outside the new school, and jumped up, throwing the gold ball into the single hoop that had been set up on one side.
It still had not had a net installed yet, and the pieces of the other hoop were laying on the other side, abandoned under snow.
Fabio shook his head and shivered, teeth chattering in the cold frosty air.
He shot out another gold load of gold balls from his chest at Christopher, engaging in a dodgeball-like game with the healer.
Christopher landed on his butt on the court and grabbed one of the balls rolling away.
He dribbled it around the court as Fabio joined, attempting to steal it from him.
Fabio blocked as Triage tried to shoot, and ran down the court, throwing the ball at the hoop.
It tottered on the rim before falling in. Fabio jumped up and down.
NEXT UP! shout to warfolomei, gave me excellent ideas on using the exaggerted common occurances around scott's daily life. that's comin up next. thanks!
Youngmoney97: Awwwwww thank yoooouuU! that made me feel so great!
borismortys: Glad you liked! Thanks for your input! I always use and consider reviews!
Leh-xp: Hehehehehe yep, she's a cat. Thanks for reviewing.