DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE X-MEN OR MARVEL! Thank you and Enjoy ;D

Chapter 7: Verge

"You can't stay awake forever, you know."

I turn my heavy head, removing my fingers from the knots I'd twisted in my hair in my fatigue, and look through the narrow slits of my eyes at the shirtless Mutant before me, giving an aggravated groan. If I wasn't so utterly exhausted I'd be blushing like crazy and drooling over those muscles so finely carved under his surprisingly tanned skin...But I just give a small yawn instead, bringing up a hand to cover my gaping mouth. "You don't understand." I mutter groggily, resting an elbow on the arm rest of the couch with my fingers over my face. I just can't go to sleep.

Why won't anyone see that?

"Don't have to," Logan replies as I bury my face in my hands. My head feels like someone poured molten lead in my ear. It's so heavy that whenever I try to recline my head back by neck feels like a tree branch that just couldn't take the strain under a heavy wind storm. I can hardly keep myself upright but still, I refuse to give into unconsciousness. "I know what I'm talking about here."

I begrudgingly make room as Logan makes to sit down beside me, drawing in my legs and eyeing him wearily. The couch creaks cantankerously as his weight sinks into the cushions. The guy must weigh a ton. No surprise, considering the adamantium skeleton…

I bring my knees up to my chest, blinking at him blearily, "I can't…go to sleep." I explain miserably, my voice hoarse and fragile as I must look right now in my borrowed yoga pants, tank top, and woolen shawl. So comfortable... "I want to, but I just…can't."

"What are you afraid of?" Logan asks and for the umpteenth time I wonder who the hell this guy is. The one person who I had thought changed the least is turning out to be the one to change the most. I find it even more off-setting than the Professors bald, bald, baaaaaallllllddddd head…(still can't get over that). He stretches out on the couch, only a hair's breath

I give a humorless breath of laughter, careful to keep my voice down as I say, "I'm afraid I won't wake up. Or that I will but next time…next time I'll be—" My words trail off pathetically as I hug my arms to my chest, "Everything is so different, now. But—some thing's are the same. It's all so confusing. What'll happen if I wake up and another seventeen years have gone by? I don't think I could bear it." I whisper.

Wolverine takes his time responding.

After a moment I look up to see if he's fallen asleep on me but his eyes are open, staring forward. He must be beat, I decide. I'm about to suggest that he go back to sleep when he says in an oddly detached rumble, "I don't remember the War. None of 'em." This catches my attention and I lift my head to watch him more closely as he speaks, but his own eyes are too far away for me to reach. I think he might be reminiscing. I honestly had no idea he was in a war. Or multiple wars for that matter. I can't even imagine..."But I remember that feeling. Those nights when we'd wait—" He seems to swallow a lump in his throat. "Wait to die. The shells…" He takes a breath, lips quivering at the memory. "So loud."

I want to tell him to stop; his words are so far, far away from me.

I don't interrupt. I am overly conscious of my breathing, fearing it's too loud—like those shells. My heart races against the shivers that run down my spine and through my legs as Wolverine embellishes only a fraction of what he must have gone through in those battles. It frightens me, but still I can't bring myself to stop him. I want to go to him, comfort him, do something but I can only sit and watch, wide-eyed as he continues, hollow, lost in the fragments of his own shattered memory, "And when they'd stop. You could only hear the screams. And when they'd stop..." He sighs, and looks at me, his eyes returning from the far off place to find mine, "I'll never know what it feels like—to do whatever you can so you won't fall asleep. To be afraid you'll never wake up. I'll always wake up. But I know what it is, to fear sleep. The nightmares don't stop, but Chuck's got 'em under control. Still, every now and then…I wake up with the scent of gunpowder on my nose and my sheets torn to shreds."

Logan looks at me and I at him. I find my breath at last, but I don't know what to say. I know nothing I can say can make it any better "I can't guarantee that you'll wake up," Logan tells me truthfully. "But I'll be damned if I let you stay up again all night." His eyes are returning while mine grow ever distant as the fight leaves me. I nod my head absently. He's right, I know. I turn to him, chest heaving, letting go of my knees and meeting his eye full on, "Don't leave me."

If I'm going to do this, I'm not doing it alone.


My breathing doesn't ease until long after I've settled into the sheets. It's quiet, yet I can still hear noises in the house. The sound of air from a duct blasting warm waves over my face, the sound of the snow storm raging just outside, and Wolverine's steady breathing matching my own. Such sounds mixed together are so strange to me, so calming.

But something in me continues to resist. "I can't—" I start to whisper, sitting up; the covers pooling around me like water but before I can flee there's a reassuring hand on my arm. I feel caught in a snare, wanting desperately to leave this room, start another pot of coffee and jump back on the computer once more to try and find that damn password…But the mere thought of attempting to stay awake another night. And the night after this night. And the night after that. It terrifies me, makes me feel sick. I can't go on much longer like this. I know it. So, why can't I just shut my eyes?

I feel on the verge of hyperventilating, my breath coming in short, pained pants and my eyes widening with fear and panic as the horrifying possibilities weigh in on me, threatening to crush me under its collective weight—

Then I'm being pulled back, Logans' hand wrapped around my arm and gently drawing me back. My shoulders sink into the sheets once more, my head coming down on the feathered pillow beneath me like a fluffy cloud, and then there are arms around me and I find my face buried into a shoulder. He draws me in closer until we're tangled up in each others limbs and I inhale deeply, lost in the comfort of his embrace. It feels so good...to be held. He groans in response, keeping a sure grip around me and he rests his chin on my head while I drape an arm over his waist.

It's then that my breathing slows at last, and every tense muscle in my body relaxes at once. I drift alarmingly fast. It's not so scary, when it's quick.


"What is it, Vertigo?"

"It's Her, Sir."

"…Yes?"

"Look…Her vitals. Do you see—?"

"Yes, I see, Vertigo. They are returning to normal."

"Then why isn't she waking up?"

"…"

"Sir?"

"Leave us."

"But—"

"I must run some tests, now leave. Immediately."

"Yes, Sir."

"And, Vertigo?"

"…Yes, Sir?"

"Why don't you give our friends in Bayville…a little visit?"

"With pleasure, Sir."


I wake up gasping and trembling all over.

I can't remember what the dream was or why it terrified me so, but a feeling of unease weighs down on me like a sheet of lead; suffocating and unrelenting. I look around wildly, eyes wide as the light pours through the window, blinding in its harsh ray. I glance down and around at the bed, the room. I'm alone.

I feel strange being here. It's not so much that Wolverine isn't here but that he was here at some point in time. I lower my head into my hands and groan, shaking my head over and over. I'm glad that I finally got some sleep but why do I feel so guilt-ridden? Is it because I feel like I'm betraying Azazel? But why should I feel that way? We didn't do anything and it was meant to help me, which it did. And it's not like Azazel's here to say anything about it, anyway. For all I know he's waking up to some green-skinned floozy right now...

Ignoring the pang of guilt and grief just below my diaphragm, I climb out of the bed and stretch. Aside from my moral morning sickness, I feel great. I'm still drowsy from sleep but I feel rejuvenated; like I could swim to Genosha, throw Magneto's money in his face, and run away laughing if I wanted. But right now…

I think I'll settle for some coffee.

I go down into the kitchen and am met by….nothing. No one is here.

I look around, unsettled, and check the time. It's 10:34 AM and a weekend. Either everyone is still asleep, or they went out on an excursion and…neglected to tell me.

Nice.

I finish up with my coffee and wander into my room where I absently click on the TV and start to get dressed in one of the new outfits I purchased from the mall: a denim skirt, and a simple black blouse along with some nice wedges. There's something on the news about a commotion going on downtown but I mute the TV in favor of a CD that Rogue had suggested I buy by an artist called, Limp Biscuit. I crank the music and start on my hair. It's not half bad actually.

I'm just about done with my hair (going for the straight look today) and I'm about to go down to call the Professor using the house phone when a little blue elf darts silently across the TV screen and disappears from view. "Kurt?!" I gasp aloud and hastily unmute the TV, my hands shaking as I take in the scene being caught on camera LIVE. It's the X-Men no doubt but they're definitely not out on another trip to the mall. In fact, they seem to be fighting other Mutants! One is a woman with green hair and another is a skinny guy wearing a gaudy green suit. Only there appear to be twelve of him running around in their green get-ups.

I'm seeing a theme here…

The next thing I know I'm tearing off my civilian clothes and yanking on my suit. I highjack the car and take off down the street in the direction of the commotion, but quickly become lost when I realize I have no idea where I'm going. I don't know this town nearly enough to find my way around, but when I get out of the car, I soon hear screams as people around me start to panic.

Looks like the action's coming to me.

I follow their terrified gazes and look over head to see a winged man hurtling through the sky in my direction at an alarming speed. He appears to be crashing. I run into the street, narrowly avoiding being plowed by an oncoming car and concentrate my abilities, flexing muscles I haven't used in ages in an attempt to save the falling man. I manage to throw up an energy shield just in time, fashioning a sort of bowl hovering a few feet above the ground, and catch the winged man just before he slams into the room of a building and I hold my concentration long enough to bring him gently to the sidewalk. Sleep has done wonders on me. I feel more energized than I have in seventeen years and the sudden rush of adrenaline has only made me more anxious to get into the action.

I hurry over and assess the condition of the winged man. I kneel beside him and turn him over in my arms. His face is partly covered in a thick red and black material, but from what I can tell he's very handsome, with sharp, refined features and cool blue eyes. He stirs and looks up at me in confusion, his head draped over my left arm, "What happened?"

"You fell," I say shortly, helping him into a sitting position and he stretches out his white wings tentatively. I immediately think of Glenn, but push the comparison from my mind and ask, "Are you hurt?"

"No," He looks up at me and smiles, a white, straight-toothed grin. "Thanks to you."

"Are you with the X-Men, too?" I ask through my sudden blush, and help him stand up. He gives a vague laugh, stretching and groaning noisily, making sure to flourish his wings so they catch the sunlight impressively as he says, "I used to be, but—well, things got in the way. Wait, you mean you're part of the team?"

I nod, anxious to find the others while this guy recovers. "And apparently I'm tardy to the party."

"Overslept?" He smirks and I chuckle, nodding as I say, "Actually, yes."

"Then I guess we shouldn't keep em waiting any longer," Says the stranger with the white wings, like that of an Angel, and suddenly (and without warning), his arms are under me and I'm being whisked into the air. The ground drops from beneath my feet and then I'm soaring in the man's arms high above the city. I give a startled cry and wrap my arms around his neck. I haven't flown in forever. Not since I used to go out with Glenn, soaring over the battered cities of our hometown. The man chuckles and says, "Don't worry, I won't drop you. My name's Angel by the way."

Too distracted to think of a fake name and too embarrassed to use my old code name (Ghostgirl), I just settle for my first name, "Elizabeth. Now," I call, wrapping my arms around his neck as we fly right by a skyscraper with the name Stark written in tall letters across it's front. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure." He calls back over the wind. "All I could tell was the X-Men were being attacked by some of Sinister's cronies and so I went down to see if I could help. You…saw how well that went."

"Sinister," I echo as we fly lower, drawing closer towards were the action is.

Or was.

The area is completely deserted now, with only a few people lingering among the destruction, taking pictures with their phones. The battle must have been intense because there are shattered cars, debris, and telephone poles everywhere. A firehydrant has been completely uprooted and sends showers of water down all around us as we land.

"Where is everyone?" Angel asks next to me, using his wings to shield us from the pouring water.

"They're a little busy at the moment," Replies a voice that isn't mine, and I turn to see the green haired woman from the television smirking deviously atop the roof of a rundown barbershop just a few meters ahead of us. A pattern of green swirls against her white suit force me to blink a few times but I glare at her steadily. I don't like the smug look on her face. "But I'll take a message."

Where did she come from? I wonder, but I brace myself for a fight and Angel does the same, his wings flourishing as he prepares to charge. He reminds me of Glenn so much. He would always flare his wings as a warning just before an attack; to intimidate an opponent. Usually it worked, but I can tell this woman is not impressed. "Who are you?" I find myself asking, though I'm pretty sure I know who she is, from what Wolverine told me at the mall. She's part of the Brotherhood. The one they call Vertigo, I'll bet. "What do you want?"

"Ah, looks like Xaviers' found himself a new recruit!" The woman scoffs, jumping down lithely from the roof and landing gracefully on her feet. Her heels clack noisily as she approaches, hands on her hips, a smile curling her lips. "Name's Vertigo. Hold still and you'll find out why." She lifts a hand threateningly, fingers splayed, and I throw up a forcefield just in time. A wave of pulsing energy surges over my energy field and has no effect on either of us. I smirk, "I'm sorry, what were you saying? I couldn't hear over my forcefield!"

I'm about to launch a counter-offensive when something catches me from behind, yanking back my head by the hair and throwing me to the floor with a sharp cry. It feels like my hair got caught in the gears of a tractor! My forcefield falls as I lose my concentration, and I hear Angel give a shout followed by the scuffling sounds of a fight ensuing.

"Can you hear me now?" Asks Vertigo, standing over me. I lash out with my legs and kick her feet out from under her while she thinks she's won. She plummets to the ground as I get to my feet and I pin her down with a suppressing energy field, this one encompassing her in a small, dome-like structure; like a giant cuff. She thrashes wildly, cursing and screaming but she can't get free and she can't move her arms enough to aim one of her energy waves at me. Once I'm sure she's down, I glance around, wondering what hit me.

That's when I see him. Or rather, them.

There are about six of them, all dressed in green and surrounding Angel in what I can only describe as a wolf pack attack; one or two of them lunging out at the winged man while the others circle around, waiting for the chance to strike, and when they do, they make each shot count. It's clear they've had some sort of martial arts training or self-defense lessons. They're all similar in stature but it's too far away to tell what they look like. It looks like Vertigo thought she could handle me on her own.

I'm not sure what to do. I can't just leave Vertigo here, but I have to help Angel. I settle for a compromise. "Angel!" I call out to him and he looks up quickly, taking in Vertigo—still pinned beneath my shield—and my outstretched hand, glowing with purple energy, in one glance. "Fly!"

He shoots up into the air faster than the green men can catch him, and I fire an energy blast large enough to flip a small automobile directly at the wolf pack.

In a flash of light, they're gone.

For a second, I fear I've disintegrated them (I didn't hit them that hard, I don't think), but a piercing whistle catches our attention and I discover another green suited man standing a ways behind us; unharmed and standing confidently with his hands on his hips. He wears a broad grin as he calls, "Missed me!" He pounds a fist into his hand and in a blurr of movement there are twelve of him. This must be the one Wolverine calls Multiple Man. He lowers his head mischievously, "Now you've got to kiss me." All twelve of them say and they start to advance forward in a tight V-formation.

"I think he's talkin' to you." I say to Angel, careful not to let up on Vertigo as she continues to curse and scream at me. I remember Logan said she could create powerful hallucinations and nausea with her Mutant abilities. There'd be no way for my to defend myself if she got into my head. Not with my powers relying on my ability to concentrate.

"No way," Angel replies with a laugh. "You're the pretty one."

"Not even, Goldie Locks!" I retort as the first guy darts forward. Angel catches him across the chest with one of his wings and I cover his back when one of them snakes around to try and catch him off guard. The guy goes sailing as I hit him with a powerful energy blast but disappears before he hits the wall on the far side of the lot. I do the same for a number of them, just able to keep them back and hold Vertigo at bay at once.

They quickly realize they can't get close enough to me without being blasted to all hell and the Multimen halt their assault. But only long enough to perform one last trick. Angel and I watch in awe and a growing sense of dread as every duplicate fists their palms and multiplies in threes. Soon we're completely surrounded by an army of Multimen. I can't fight them all off and neither can Angel.

I curse under my breath as Angel says, "I think this is where we take our leave."

"Right you are," I agree and promptly drop my hold on Vertigo as we take off into the air, narrowly avoiding the mob as they spring forward to nab us mid flight; only to fly right through us and crash into one another in a heap of bodies all piled on top of Vertigo, who couldn't manage to get out of the way in time. "You can turn intangible?" Angel exclaims once we're a safe distance away. I'd had to make us intangible in order to escape, or else they would have crushed us. And not a moment too soon. I almost felt one of them grab me right before I managed to phase us out.

"Uh huh," Is my only reply. I'm thinking…"I've got an idea. Bring me in lower!"

Angel swoops back down and I throw out both hands (Angel securing me by the waist) and enclose the entire mob in a ball of energy, along with Vertigo and some rubble. I've never tried anything like this before but I think I know what I'm doing. Once the mutants realize they can't escape, they stop struggling, and Angel and I land. Angel claps me on the back jovially, "Nicely done! I can't stand those guys."

"I can't imagine why." I say as they attempt to multiply even more, as though they can break through the force field, but they soon realize that more bodies means more oxygen used up in the small, enclosed space and their numbers soon dwindle down to two. Vertigo appears to be passed out from the lack of oxygen after being crushed by the Multimen and Multiple Man himself looks beat as he slumps inside the glowing prison, defeated.

"Where shall we put them?" I ask triumphantly. I didn't even break a sweat but I am feeling pretty vengeful after that uncalled for hair pulling.

Angel thinks about this a moment, then snaps his fingers and flies over to a large garbage can in an alley way. He flips open the lid and gives a grand gesture as though welcoming an aristocrat into his home. "Oh, you are so wrong." I say but move the pair into the trash without hesitation, closing the lid before they can bust out and Angel clasps a zip tie onto the lid.

"You never know," He explains at my questioning look and I realize he must bring them on his crime fighting excursions. Smart. "I thought you didn't work with the X-Men." I say.

"I do late-night patrols every now and again." He says nonchalantly, banging on the garbage can as Vertigo and Multiman try to break out, shouting incoherently. "Speaking of X-Men," He adds, dusting off his hands. He turns his startlingly blue eyes to me and says, "I think we ought to go look for the others—"

"Don't waste your time, Bub," Says Logans' disgruntled voice as he appears around the corner along with the others. His clothes are torn to shreds but his wounds are already healing. Three long claw marks fade from his chest right before my eyes and I feel a twinge of worry crease my brow. Could it be...? "Where were you?" Angel asks, stepping forward as the others make their way over. They all look pretty beat, their heads hang low, and something seems off about them.

They look so forlorn and—well—depressed.

Rogue's eyes are strangely distant and Kitty, Jean and Kurt all look as though they've been crying. Scott's mouth is a hard line on his young jaw, but his hands gently guide Jean along. It looks like she might have twisted her ankle in the battle. "I could ask you the same thing!" Logan snaps at the blonde haired Mutant, looking more irritable than I've ever seen him. "What were you doing, anyway—" His words suddenly cut off when he gets a good look at me and an odd look of recognition crosses his face as he lifts his mask from his incredulous face. "Elizabeth?"

The rest of the group all come alive at once, having lingered behind to hail the Blackbird as it began to land in the area, and they now rush over at once; some with tears in their eyes, others laughing hysterically.

"Where were you!?" Kitty cries, flinging herself at me and I catch her around the shoulders in surprise as the teens crowd around me. Rogue has large bags under her eyes and a cut on her lip. She looks at me guardedly, which scares me most of all. What did I do?! Why are they so surprised to see me?

"What do you mean?" I ask in exasperation. They're all acting like I chose to be left behind at the mansion. They could have just woken me up! "I was—" I glance at Logan, but quickly avert my eyes, feeling heat crawl up the back of my neck, "Asleep..."

" 'You were gone,' " Says Professor X's stoic voice as he wheels off the ramp of the Blackbird and the rest of us go to greet him. "But this is neither the time nor the place for this discussion." He says aloud. "Come, let us return to the institute at once."


Dun, dun, duuuuunnnn. Until next time! Thanks for reading!

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