A big old thanks goes out to my Special Consultant on Jewish Matters: geekgirl101. She totally rocks! And to my co-producer Chellerbelles who kept me sane during this episode. I'm not going to lie, but this episode is really emotional and might just hit you hard!
Next week is the Mid-Season Finale!
X-Men: The (fan fic) Series
Episode #: 1X10
Title: Ghosts
Summary: Kitty heads home for the holiday and dredges up too many memories while her friends back at the mansion are confronted by their own ghosts.
Rated TV-14 for Emotional Trauma
Previously… on X-Men: The (fan fic) Series
—"I've been calling it Thanksgivikah." – Kitty
—""They were probably captive mutants." – Scott.
—"We could always ask Magneto." – Bobby
"That might not be a bad idea." – Scott
—"Dad's got his new family he's all tied up in, and mom's off somewhere with her flavor of the month." – Kitty
—"What was that about Xavier having a son?" – Bobby
—"ALEX!" – Scott
—"Would you be able to fly me out on Saturday? Or Sunday?" – Kitty
—"You think you Xavier kids are so high and mighty, living in your ivory tower like a bunch of lords and ladies, when you don't have a clue as to what is going on in the real word." – Archlight
—"The game board is changing, Charles is putting himself, and his students, right in the crossfire. Whatever happens next, it will be on his head." – Magneto
1X10 – Ghosts – Teaser
Six Years Ago…
A man and woman walked down the hall of a Jewish synagogue, a young blonde girl trailing behind them. Their footfalls echoed off the warm marble tile as they came to stand in front of a Rabbi.
"Mrs. Pryde," the Rabbi addressed the mother, taking her hand cordially, "I was sadden to hear of your mother's passing, but God deemed it her time and while his plan may not be obvious at this moment, I have faith that his will is just."
"Yes, Rabbi," she nodded, "of course."
"The hospital delivered your mother's body just this morning," he continued as they walked down the hallway, "the chevra kadisha are ready to begin preparing the body. Burial may be immediate, tomorrow, unless there is cause to wait?"
"All our family is local except for an uncle in Iowa," she told him, "he'll be in tonight."
"Then it is all arranged," the Rabbi led them through one of the doors into the administrative area.
"Rabbi," she stopped him, "it all happened so quickly, I didn't get a chance to see her before she passed, would it be possible to do so now?"
"Of course, my dear," he nodded and they went through another door farther into the synagogue.
The little girl paused, distracted by a picture hanging on the wall, so the father called to her, "Katherine, come along."
Katherine Pyrde followed her parents and they found themselves in a preparation room. An older woman was laid out on a table, covered in a linen sheet from the neck down.
"Grandma?" Katherine frowned, there was something wrong with her, like she was sleeping but unnaturally still.
"I'm sorry sweetie," her mother squatted down to be on her level, "but remember, we talked about this, your grandma has passed on."
"What," Katherine looked between her mother and grandmother, not understanding, "what's wrong with grandma?"
"She's gone," her mother tried to sooth her with a brush of her hair, "but don't be sad, Kitty, you will see her again."
"No," the little girl shook, pulling away from her mother, "I want to see her now, wake her up."
"Sweetie, I can't," she lost hold of her daughter, "but you will see her in the afterlife, I promise."
Tears began to fall from her eyes and Kitty couldn't look at her grandmother any more. Turning on her heels she ran back through the door and down the hall. Nearly blinded by her weeping, she kept running straight until she was outside.
A car honked as it skidded to a stop mere feet from her.
Kitty looked up, wiping her eyes as the driver got out.
"Where did you come from?" he asked in both his confusion and relief that he hadn't hit the young girl.
Looking behind her, all she saw was the solid wall of the synagogue, the only entrance on this side of the building at least sixty feet farther down.
Had she really ran that far?
…
Today…
Scott's personal Cessna aircraft taxied across the run way of the Chicago Executive Airport just northwest of Chicago. It was unrealistic for him to fly into O'Hare being just a small airplane flying from New York to Illinois.
"Mom says she's in the terminal waiting for me," Kitty had her phone out now that they were on the ground.
"Alright then," he flipped a few switches, "I'll drop you off and then see you back here on Saturday."
"I really appreciate you flying me out," she finished texting her mother back, "after what happened yesterday with those other mutants."
"Yeah, well," he didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it, "I already had the flight plan in place and I have to pick up James and Sasha on the way back."
"Still, thanks," Kitty said as he turned the plane towards a parking space, "Doug is looking at those drives, if he can't find anything on it, no one can."
"I'm sure of that," Scott smiled and then parked the plane, "alright, let's get your stuff."
Fifteen minutes later, Kitty found herself walking through the small terminal with her backpack and roller luggage. That's when she spotted her mom, sitting in one of the waiting chairs, reading a design magazine.
"Mom!" Kitty nearly shouted and the woman looked up to smile at her.
"Katherine," Terri Pryde stood, she wasn't much taller than her daughter but it was obvious the girl got her lithe build from her mother, and the two embraced, "glad to have you home."
As Kitty held her mother, she couldn't help the feeling that 'home' hadn't felt much like home for a very long time.
X-Men: The (fan fic) Series
Based off Marvel Comics' X-Men© created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby,
with Chris Claremont.
Adapted for Television by JayCee
1X10 – Ghosts – Act I
"Hey, how was the flight?" Doug asked Kitty via video chat.
The girl had her laptop set up on the desk in her old bedroom. It looked much the same as it had when she went to Xavier's six years before. Her love of ballet was very prominent as posters from her many dances covered the walls and trophies littered the shelves. One would be hard pressed to pair the life of the girl that once occupied the room with the one which did so now.
"It was good," she sat down at the desk, "how's it been over there?"
"Oh, kinda boring," he shrugged, "just your usual Sunday."
"At least no one's blown anything up," she smirked.
"This is true," Doug laughed, "so you got the whole week off from school, have I told you how awesome that is."
Kitty shook her head and pulled some books out of her backpack, "You still have to send me my homework and Betsy wants us to read a whole list of books by the end of the week or something."
"Just one of them," he pointed out as Kitty actually looked at the assignment, "and write a short essay. I believe her words where," Doug cleared his throat and continued in a perfect English accent, "'read one of these over-analyzed works of literary short fiction and tell me what you really think about it'."
"Hhhmmm," she couldn't help but grin as she read down the list, "which one are you going to read?"
"I was thinking something by Poe," he frowned, "but then everyone is picking him."
"Death, murder, mystery," she continued to scroll, "what's not to like?"
"That was pretty much what everyone else said," he nodded sagely.
A sent filled the air and she sniffed it out, "Oh, I think the latkes are done."
"You're going to hang up on me now," it wasn't exactly a question.
"For latkes," she grinned, "always."
"I'll talk to you later," he laughed.
"Laters," she cut the connection with a smile and wave.
Closing her laptop, Kitty bounded down the stairs towards the kitchen. Her mother was sliding the last of the batch of latkes, which were basically potato pancakes, aka the best food ever invented, off the frying pan onto a large platter.
"Hey, sweetie," her mom smiled as she started to clean up after her cooking, "grab us some plates and forks."
"Sure," she went over to the cabinet and pulled open the doors, only to find glasses instead of plates.
"Oh, sorry," the older woman apologized as she put the pan in the sink, "I moved them over one."
"Right," Kitty reached up and grabbed two glasses, "might as well while I'm here."
Having sorted out the dishes, Kitty and her mother sat at the kitchen island, tearing into the latkes covered in a generous helping of sour cream.
"These are still the best latkes ever, of all time," Kitty said as she tried to cover her mouth because she was being rude and speaking with her mouth full.
"Your grandmother's recipe," her mother said fondly, "and I don't even do it justice."
"Oh no, you totally rock it," Kitty assured her and took another bite.
"So, tonight is just us girls," Mrs. Pryde nudged her daughter, "I thought we could stay up and watch cheesy chick flicks all night, gorging ourselves on chocolate, just like we used to."
Kitty grinned, "Won't your boss be mad if you show up with a chocolate hangover in the morning?"
"Let me ask her," she tilted her head up and tapped her chin a couple of times, "no, I think she's okay with it."
The two had a good laugh, pulling more latkes onto their plates.
"And tomorrow," her mom continued, "I invited Trevor over for dinner, if that's okay?"
"Ah, sure," Kitty shrugged, dipping into the sour cream, "it'll be nice to meet him."
"I know he's not your father," her mother started and Kitty had to keep herself from rolling her eyes, she was wondering when this talk would happen, "but he's a sweet guy, and I really like him."
"Okay, mom," Kitty sat up and took a breath, "I know dad isn't coming back, it's just fact. So I'm perfectly okay with you getting into serious relationships with other guys. If Trevor makes you happy, then that's nothing to do with me," she paused, "unless he just creeps me out and if that's the case, oh, we will have words."
The woman laughed and gave her girl a hug, "You are such a brilliant young lady, you know that?"
"Yes, yes," Kitty returned the laugh, "it's such a burden."
"Speaking of brilliance," her mother's smile faded a little, "Trevor doesn't know anything about mutants. He thinks you're going to Xavier's because you're a clever and talented girl who is much too smart for public school."
"Which isn't techincally a lie," Kitty agreed, but she couldn't help feeling a little put out by the underlining statement, what her mother was truly getting at, 'don't go intangible'.
Kitty couldn't really argue, it wasn't exactly a smart idea to reveal her mutant status in front of people she barely knew… but she couldn't help feel that as much as she knew her mother loved her, the woman simply couldn't accept that her little girl was different.
Her mother tried… which was better than most of her fellow students could say… but it didn't make it hurt any less.
…
Scott landed the plane back at his usual small-craft airport near Westchester, pulling into the hanger bay that he stored his plane between flights.
"Alright," he got out of his seat to see the two students gathering their stuff, "you got everything?"
"Yeah," James Proudstar grabbed Sasha's bag for her like it weighed nothing, super strength was handy like that.
Sasha Towne was a young African American girl who could transmute matter. She also had an infectious smile that Jubilee had classified as a secondary mutation, "Can we stop by Harry's Hideaway on the way?"
"I could go for a burger," Scott chuckled as he grabbed his own backpack before following them off the plane.
The kids headed towards his parked red Ford Mustang convertible while he locked up and did a last minute check to make sure his plane be okay till he had a chance to come back and do a thorough maintenance check.
"Scott!" James called out warningly.
Looking back towards them, he saw James drop the bags and push Sasha behind him. Scott didn't know what was going on but he forgot his own bag as he ran towards them, glancing around as he did so, trying to spot any obvious threats.
The only treat seemed to be the one in front of them, that of Rogue leaning up against his Mustang. In the back of his mind he recognized that the top of the convertible was down even though he remembered leaving it up.
"Well, now ain't that for a greeting," Rogue put her hands up in a show of surrender, and that her fingers were still surely gloved, "I didn't come for a fight, Boy Scout."
"You can understand why that doesn't put me at ease," he replied as he continued to look around, checking all the corners and shadows, keeping the kids behind him.
"Fair enough," she shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her, "but if you didn't want to be found then you really shouldn't use your real name on all your flight manifests. It's like you want people to track you down and ambush you."
"So this is an ambush," Scott wanted to ignore her jab but she was right, his plane was a sitting duck for anyone to attack. So far, the team had no real enemies, the Brotherhood had never actually come after them, but this was changing.
"We can tag team," James said behind him, "she can't hurt me, just knock me out."
Scott glanced over his shoulder, semi-horrified that one of his students would be so apt to fight. It wasn't that James looked forward to the violence, but that he was willing to fight in order to keep everyone safe. Was it because that was just the kind of guy James was, or because, as Kitty said, it would the younger kids who were going to have to fight the big battles, they knew this and already surrendered to that fact.
"Now don't be getting your panties in a twist," Rogue laughed, "I told you, ain't here to fight, this is simply a reply to your letter."
He frowned, "My letter?"
"You asked for Magneto's help," she tilted her head and picked up a file folder that was lying on the trunk of his car out of view, "well, here it is."
"I sent that letter last night," he hadn't expected a reply, let alone one so quickly.
"Courier is very efficient," she explained with a hint of mirth, "Magneto called Quicksilver, who called me, and, well, here we are."
"And you decided to bring me a file personally?" he frowned, still expecting an ambush, "Why not give it to Courier?"
"This file?" Rogue held it up, then turned her head to look down into his Mustang, "It goes with her."
"Her?" Scott wasn't sure if he understood her correctly.
Rogue started to back away from the car, leaving the folder resting on the trunk, "Have a look."
Cautiously, Scott walked forward, checking still for any ambush, until he was close enough to see what she was talking about.
Laying down in the backseat of his car was a young woman, couldn't have been much older than Jubilee. Her skin was naturally tanned, much like James, and her straight dark hair and high cheekbones spoke of her Native American heritage. She was dressed in hospital scrubs and looked to be sleeping, but there wasn't something exactly right about it.
"Who is she?" Scott immediately demanded.
"According to her missing person's record," Rogue gestured towards the file, "her name is Danielle Moonstar, went missing seven weeks ago from outside Boulder, Colorado."
He started to understand, "She was one of the Bella-Agra mutants?"
"Unfortunately," Rogue's demeanor finally took a more somber turn.
"What's wrong with her?" Sasha said as her and James came up behind him either because they were curious or they sensed the need to stick together.
"Don't know," the Southerner admitted, "physically she's in good shape for someone who's been held like that for six or so weeks."
"She's in a coma," Scott realized that's what was off, "isn't she?"
"Seems so," Rogue tightened her jaw just a bit, "ain't no reason for it that our doctors can tell. They think she'll wake up in her own time but comas don't always work out the way you predict."
The woman would know, she had put plenty of people into temporary ones.
"I'm guessing you think Xavier or Jean could help her?" Scott reasoned.
"Xavier is the most powerful telepath on the planet," Rogue easily acknowledged, "plus Red and Beast," she chuckled, "your lack of achievements isn't for a want of resources, that's for sure."
Scott decided to ignore yet another dig, "We'll help her, make sure she wakes up."
"Good," Rogue nodded, "oh, Rowland's records listed her as a communal empath."
"Communal empath?" he had never heard that term before.
"That's what he wrote," she shrugged, "it's in the file," and with that she turned and started to walk out of the hanger.
"Rogue," he called after her, "what does the Brotherhood get out of this?"
She stopped and barely looked over her shoulder, "What makes you think we're getting anything out of this?"
"What makes me think you wouldn't," he responded.
"You know we're on the same side, right?" she answered.
"Not for the same reasons."
"Well," he could just see her smile in the distance, "there's that."
Rogue continued to walk out of the open hanger and disappeared around the corner. Now sure the threat had passed, Scott opened the door and pulled forward the front seat to get closer to the girl and check her vitals. She had a steady pulse and her breathing was even.
He hoped they really could help the girl… but like Rogue said… comas can be very unpredictable indeed.
…
"I can't watch that," Kitty was laughing as she walked into the kitchen, big red bowl in hand, "I'll die of second hand embarrassment!"
"Aw," her mother called to her from the sofa, "he thought she was in love with his best friend's dad," she said with mock emotional trauma, "and was trying to keep her from making a horrible mistake!"
"He only thought that cause he's an idiot," Kitty opened a cabinet and not finding what she was looking for went to the next one, "he hid under the bed, who even does that in real life?"
"It was in the script," the woman laughed back.
Rolling her eyes, Kitty found the popcorn box and pulled out a bag, ripping off the plastic before throwing it into the microwave. Hitting the popcorn button and adding an extra thirty seconds, she leaned against the counter as she waited.
Sitting across the kitchen was a china cabinet which held more brick-a-brack than actual dishes. The panels of the doors were lined with etched mirrors, it was very 80s that way. Kitty could clearly see her reflection in the mirrors, a memory floating to the surface…
Six Years Ago…
"Hurry up, Kitty," her mother was bustling around, putting away dishes before heading into the living room, "the bus will be here soon."
"Ugh," the young Katherine Pryde did not want to go to school, but then what twelve year old did on a Monday morning?
Shoving the last piece of toast in her mouth, Kitty stood and made her way across the kitchen before realizing she left her scarf hanging off the back of the chair. It was no big deal to quickly turn around and grab it.
Only when she did so, her hand passed straight through the scarf and continued through the chair.
Quickly snatching her hand back, she held it up to her face and she realized she could see through her hand. Not in the way that you can see behind your hand if you screw with your eyes, no, her hand was literally translucent.
Equal parts amazed and terrified, she traced her hand to her cuff to see that her coat was just as transparent. Glancing over at the mirrored cabinet, her eyes widened under the realization that her who body was just the same, even the backpack dangling from her shoulder.
"Kitty," her mother admonished and the girl whipped around at the voice, "the bus is here, let's get going."
Holding her hands up, Kitty had returned to flesh and blood, had she simply imagined it?
…
"I'm no medical doctor," Jean was walking around the young girl laid out on the table in the examination room, "but what I do know tells me that she's in pretty good health. She shows small signs of malnourishment and dehydration but that's likely from being on intravenous fluids and in an induced coma."
"The coma was induced then?" Scott asked, moving out of her way as Jean put her tablet and stethoscope down on the cabinet.
"More than likely, it was either that or sedate her continuously while in the tank," Jean frowned as she looked back at Danielle, "but I really couldn't say for sure. Hank will be here next weekend, I can call Cecilia, see if she can come by tomorrow."
"Probably a good idea," he nodded, while Jean had more training than most of them, they really needed a fully qualified nurse or doctor at the school, one who could deal with mutations.
"I think that's a very good idea," Professor Xavier rolled through the door, "and let us also see if we can wake this young lady up."
"Can you mentally force someone out of a coma?" Scott asked as the telepath took up position behind the girl.
"Not exactly," he said as he lightly touched Danielle's temples, "coma's come in various forms, sometimes it is just a matter of being a beacon in the fog."
"Rowland called her a communal empath," Scott added as he wasn't sure if Xavier had read the file yet, "I wonder if that's his way of saying she can affect groups of individuals instead of one on one."
"Assuming she can affect another person's empathy," Jean mused, "some empaths can only sense other's emotions."
"However her mutation has manifested," the Professor said slowly as he closed his eyes and creased his brow, "young Miss Moonstar has extremely high level psionic abilities."
"Is this good or bad?" Scott asked.
Xavier let out a thoughtful hum, "We shall see."
…
Having no need for a wheelchair seeing as he was only a mental construct, Charles found himself standing somewhere in the girl's mind. He had no idea where he was in her subconcious as it was all very muddled, a layer of thick fog hanging in the air.
He heard a rustling sound behind him and turned, but he could see nothing through the dense shade of greenish-gray.
"Danielle," he called out as gently as he could, "my name is Charles. I'm here to help you."
Again there was rustling and he fought the urge to turn and look. He was a guest in the girl's mind, she would not been seen unless she willed it so.
"You were kidnapped, Danielle," he poured all the sorrow and sympathy he could into the words, "it must have been very scary. You must be very frightened right now," then he smiled, seeping in images of the school, "but you're safe now. You've been rescued and brought to my school. Once you wake up, we can take you back home, back to your parents, they've been looking for you."
At the mention of her parents, a current moved through the fog, rippling it like water.
"Ma and dad are looking for me?" a small image appeared out of the corner of his line of sight.
"Yes, they are," Charles nodded as the girl took shape, "I'm going to call them in a bit, tell them you've been found. I'm sure they'd love to hear your voice."
"How long has it been?" she asked as her form became more clear, she was dressed much like any teenage girl, her long dark hair parted down the middle and braided on both sides.
"Nearly seven weeks," he wasn't going to lie, "but you're safe now."
"Seven weeks," the words fell of her lips as if she was speaking in decades instead of weeks, but then for a fifteen year old, there wasn't much of a difference. Her head snapped up, "You rescued me, from those men?"
"Not personally," he admitted, "but you're in my care now. You're in the medical center of my school. You're completely safe. No one can get to you here."
Danielle let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping as if she had just let go of the stress and anxiety of what happened.
"Come now," he held out his hand to her, "let's call your parents."
"I'd like that," the girl smiled and took his hand, but the moment she did so, she recoiled with a sharp intake of breath, stumbling backwards.
"Danielle?" he took a step forward as she retreated.
"So much… pain," tears started to stream from her eyes, "fear, guilt, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen," she brought her hands to her face as she began to bawl, "what if he's wrong, what if he's right, what have you done…" Danielle looked him straight in the eyes, "what have you done?"
Charles was rooted where he stood, feeling all the emotions he usually kept buried bubble to the surface and they threatened to squeeze his heart until it collapsed into dust.
"Wait, Danielle," he called to her as she turned and fled from him but it was too late, the damage was done.
Pulling out of the girl's mind, Charles wiped the single tear that betrayed him from his cheek.
"Professor?" Jean was right there with Scott hovering.
"It seems our Miss Moonstar is a very strong empath," he took a breath and backed away, clearing his head, "she inadvertently felt some of the lesser amenable emotions that we all carry with us, needless to say it did nothing to alleviate her fears."
"You can't go back in," Jean said, "she'll associate you with those memories."
"I agree," he nodded, still needing another moment to collect himself, "we will wait until her parents arrive, then you can take them in, that should draw her out."
"I'll check how the weather is," Scott said, mercifully ignoring Charles' distress, "there was a massive front moving in on the Jet Stream, I stayed in front of it but Colorado might be looking at blizzards."
"We will all do what we can," Charles told him, "and make this poor child as comfortable as possible until we can get her parents here, lord knows she's been through enough."
…
"Hey, Scott," Doug stopped him in the hallway, "I finished going through those drives."
"Oh good," Scott had nearly forgotten about the hard drives Agent Duncan let them borrow from Bella-Agra, "were you able to recover anything."
"A bit," he frowned apologetically, "they were really damaged, like a 'perfect storm' of data corruption."
"That would be Wanda Maximoff's hex powers," the woman coming back to the Acolyte team was going to make this even tougher for his team.
"I didn't get anything that had tangible information like names or places," the boy continued, "but I did find some medical data."
"On the mutants?" he asked.
"I think so," Doug shrugged, "just because my brain can automatically decrypt code and process other languages and things like that doesn't actually mean I always understand what the words mean…"
The young man started to ramble about some of the words he saw, explaining about how he could break down the word into its root parts and extrapolate it, it still didn't tell him what the enzyme actually does in the body.
Scott lost focus for a moment, something catching his attention out of the corner of his eye.
Standing at the end of the hall was a small figure, nothing more than a child dressed in a denim jacket…
Alex?
"Scott?" Doug waved his hand in front of Scott's face and the image was gone, "you zoned out on me, sorry, I know I can ramble."
"Huh?" he turned his attention back to Doug, "no, it's okay, I just… I thought I saw something."
Doug turned his head to look down the hallway, "What did you see?"
"Nothing," Scott decided, "trick of the light, it's been a really long day and I might have another tomorrow if I can fly out to Colorado."
"Okay," the kid thought nothing more of it, "I've already given a copy of the data to Jean, you can have Duncan pick up the drives anytime."
"I'll call him in the morning," he decided, "thanks for your help."
"Not a problem," Doug gave him a half-salute, "night Teach."
"Night, Doug," Scott replied, still staring down the end of the hall where he thought he saw his dead brother.
He was just tired, his mind was playing tricks on him, had to be.
1X10 – Ghosts – Act II
Six Years Ago…
Kitty was sitting at the kitchen table with her math homework laid out in front of her. She tapped her pencil against the page and chewed her lip. Deciding that the numbers could wait, she opened her backpack and took out a library book:A History of Ghosts.
The book attempted to take a non-subjective view of the concept of ghosts, looking at the earliest known record of them up to modern day spiritualism. There were several theories regarding how ghosts manifested, but a common agreement was that they usually appeared as a translucent figure…
Running her finger over a supposed 'ghost picture' which showed the transparent form of a child sitting on the front porch of a old house, Kitty glanced over at the mirrored china cabinet and was relieved to see that she was still solid. Maybe what happened that morning was just her imagination?
"Finished with your homework?" Kitty's mother came in, going straight to the refrigerator to pull out the defrosted chicken she was cooking for dinner.
"Um," she tried to close the ghost book and tuck it away, "nearly there."
"What's this?" her mom caught the book before she could make it disappear into her bag, "A History of Ghosts? Why on Earth would you be reading this?"
"Ah," she thought fast, "it's for a book report."
The woman frowned, "A book report?"
"Yeah," Kitty smiled up at her, "everyone picked books on World War II or the Industrial Revolution, I thought I'd try something different where I can actually draw conclusions instead of just quoting facts."
"You're such a clever young girl," her mom smiled and kissed the top of her head as she laid the book on the table, "I can't wait to read it."
Great, now Kitty was going to have to write a fake book report. Though she could have just been honest and told her mom about the incident, that she had turned as transparent as the figures in the photos?
But that was crazy talk…
"Mom," Kitty asked as her mom who had started to prep the chicken, "do you think ghosts are real?"
"Of course not," she laughed it off.
"But," she frowned, glancing back at the mirror, "there is so much evidence, photos, EVP's."
"Kitty," the woman turned around and gave her a sympathetic look, "I know how tempting it is to believe that our loved ones are still around, that's why so much evidence exists, because people want it to be true when in reality it's just old pipes or a trick of the light."
"A trick of the light…" she echoed, could that have been it?
"Are you okay, Kitty?" her mother stepped forward and squatted next to her, brushing her hair. "I know you miss your grandmother."
"I'll see her again," Kitty offered her a sad smile, "I know I will."
"You'll see her when you're meant to see her," she tapped at the ghost book, "trying to see her where she doesn't exist will only make you sadder."
"Grandma wouldn't want that," Kitty couldn't help a small laugh at the memories of the older woman who was blunt and honest to a beautiful fault.
"No, she wouldn't," her mother gave her a hug before standing up, closing the math book, "you know, homework can wait. Why don't you wash up and give me a hand."
"Okay," Kitty smiled and started to put her stuff away, any reason not to do math was A-Plus in her book.
As for that morning… there had to be a logical explanation, one she just wasn't seeing…
…
"I spoke with Miss Moonstar's parents this morning," Xaiver told the teachers at breakfast, "they were quite relieved to hear she had been found."
"Unfortunately the winter storm has closed the Boulder and Denver airports," Scott added, "I can't fly in and they can't fly out. Maybe tomorrow, but we're looking at probably Wednesday."
"I could clear you a path," Ororo spoke up.
"Thanks," Scott smiled but then frowned, "but we might have to explain that to the FAA when we try to land at a closed airport."
"The girl is quite stable at the moment," Charles decided, "it is not an emergency at this time. We will continue to monitor Miss Moonstar's vitals and keep her comfortable. Dr Reyes will be by later this morning as well."
"Did her parents know about her mutation?" Jean asked.
"They did," he nodded, "they recognized her empathic abilities when they manifested a few years ago and they believed she had a connection to the spirit world. Her gift was something to be revered, not feared."
"That's good," Jean smiled, "it will make explaining a telepath link easier."
"Yes, indeed," he agreed, it was always easier when the parents were believers that the impossible was possible, "well, I'll keep you all apprised of the situation."
…
Jubilee was sitting at the front desk, she had traded morning duties with one of the other students. She didn't mind, it was pretty quiet usually. The girl could be using the time work on her homework, she even had the books open on her desk, but instead she was using her phone to check out Tumblr.
The intercom buzzed and she glanced up at the security feed to see Agent Duncan in his car at the gate. Clicking the intercom, she said, "Heya, Fred."
"Jubilee?" it took him a second to recognize her voice. "I've come to see Scott. He's got some hard drives for me."
"Righty-o," she hit the entry button, "come on through."
"Thanks," he gave her a little wave and turned his attention to the opening gate.
Picking up the receptionist phone she clicked the button that would direct dial Scott's phone. The school had an internal intercom but she didn't use it because it was too tempting to have way too much fun with it.
As the phone started to ring, she caught a glimpse of the security camera as Duncan drove through, the image changing…
The car was upside down, smashed in on one side from where the truck slammed into it at exactly fifty-six miles per hour. Bits of glass and twisted metal was scattered across the road. A limp arm could be seen dangling…
"Summers," Jubilee nearly jumped at the sound of the man's voice, her eyes going back to the screen only to see the empty drive way, "Hello?"
"Ah," she cleared her throat, "Fred's here."
"Okay, thanks," Scott replied, "I'll meet him at the door."
"Sure," she replied and hung up quickly, sitting back in the chair.
She knew that image, it was the accident scene photo from the day her parents died. What kind of sick person would hack the feed and flash that up there?
Oh, when she found out, she was going to make them pay.
…
Rogue was sitting at the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal, thumbing through a report on her tablet.
"You gave them the girl?" Pietro was suddenly beside her.
"We were just gonna put her in the hospital anyway," Rogue shrugged, ignoring him and continuing what she was doing.
"It wasn't what I asked though," he was frowning, she didn't have to look at him to know this.
"I made a call," she swirled her spoon in the cereal, "if you had been around you could have done it yourself."
He looked like he wanted to argue the point but then his tightened jaw went slack and he sat down on one of the stools, "Have you found anything on the Marauders?"
"Nothing useful," she admitted, "it's early days yet. We might have a lead in Jersey."
"Jersey?" he asked.
"Yeah," she frowned as she looked up at him, "something I absorbed from that Bella-Agra guard. It might be nothing but it's been bothering me."
"If it's a troublesome memory," Pietro replied thoughtfully, "then there is likely substance to it."
"My thoughts exactly," she nodded, going back to the tablet, "waiting for something to shake loose."
"Alright then, keep me appraised," he said and with her nod of acknowledgement he was gone.
Rogue swiped the screen and came across a photo of a warehouse, a storage facility for Bella-Agra, it was checked out though, it was clean.
She rubbed her temple as a couple of voices kicked up, why did this building bother her so much?
…
Kitty bounded down the stairs, flying through the living room to find her mom sitting in her office at her computer, "Morning!"
"Morning, sweetie," she said but didn't turn her eyes away from the screen. Her mother was an interior decorator for big companies who wanted to make their lobbies inviting but their work spaces ascetically productive. To this effect there were several design books, sample chips on big key rings, and all other fun stuff just laying about, "You want me to cook you breakfast?"
"Actually," Kitty couldn't stop the 'pretty please' tone that creep into her voice, "I thought I'd go down to the Panera Bread and grab something. I discovered I didn't pack any conditioner and had to borrow yours and there's a Target right next door."
"Fair enough," she reached for her purse, "do you need any money?"
"I'm good," she assured her mother, "I don't spend all the allowance you send me, plus the school work program is pretty cool, sometimes me and Doug even tutor the local school kids."
"Well, by all means," the woman half frowned, half grinned, "don't let me spoil you or anything."
"Alright," she replied with a laugh, "I won't."
Her mother chuckled but then said, "Be safe out there, avoid alleys and areas with poor visibility."
"I know, mom," Kitty nearly laughed at her protectiveness as she grabbed her coat and scarf from the coat rack, "but I can go intangible, kind of hard to attack what you can't catch, besides, I've been taking a lot of self-defense classes with Logan," she slipped her coat on, "I can totally kick butt right now, well, half a butt."
"Self-defense classes?" the woman frowned. "Is that an elective?"
Kitty paused as she turned her lapel down, "Yeah, it's an after school thing. The Professor offers it because, hey, why shouldn't someone learn how to defend themselves?"
"This is true," she shook her head, "the world gets crazier every day."
"Yeah," Kitty slipped her scarf on and went to the door, maybe she should tell her mom about the Brotherhood and the other unknown group of mutants?
Right, totally bad idea.
"I'll be back before lunch," she called to her mom and then headed out.
…
Bobby was sitting at his desk in the small room that was put aside for him to do his accounting. He wanted to get a jump on preparing everything for the beginning of the year. Not only did he do the school's taxes and sorted out the W-2's but he also helped out some of the teachers on their individual tax filing.
Picking up his cell, he dialed a number and waited for it to pick up, "Hey, JP, it's Bobby. When you got a minute can you come by my offi—"
He was cut off as JP opened the door and popped his head inside, "What you need?"
"A copy of your work visa," Bobby frowned, shifting through the papers on his desk, "you technically started working for us in March, at least as far as Uncle Sam is concerned. I thought I had it but apparently I don't."
"Right," JP walked in, leaving the door open, "Ororo handled most of the paperwork, I think she has all that in her office safe."
"Of course," why didn't he think of that? "What about this offshore account of yours?"
"I think it doesn't count," the man obviously wasn't too sure about that.
Bobby glanced up, "You think it doesn't count?"
JP shrugged non-apologetically, "What would it cost to have you do my taxes for me?"
Sitting back in his chair and steepling his fingers, "Well, I take payment in the form of cheeseburgers, caffeine, nerf guns, and—" Bobby stood up quickly in his fright, knocking his chair over in the process.
There was a man standing in the doorway, older, lightly graying blonde hair and a strong square chin on his perpetually disappointed looking face.
"What is it?" JP turned to see what startled him but the man was gone. "Bobby?"
"I thought…" he rubbed his head, "that's weird, I swear my father was standing right there."
"Are you okay?" the speedster asked him with a look of concern on his face.
"Yeah, yeah," Bobby shook his head and grabbed his chair, "probably been at this for too long."
"Why don't you take a break then," JP agreed, "go play some X-Box for a bit, relax your brain."
"Good idea," Bobby straightened the papers which were nearly falling off the desk and shook his head again. If he was already started to crack now, tax season was going to be killer.
…
Kitty handed over a twenty to the Panera Bread cashier and picked up her cookie and order number. After accepting her change she shoved the money into her pocket and moved aside, looking around for a table to sit at. It was fairly busy but there were a few single seats.
"Kitty Pyrde," she heard her name and glanced over to see a girl about her age stand from a table, "while I live and breathe."
"Lori," it took her a second to recognize the petite blonde, "wow, it's been awhile."
"A couple of years," Lori gave her a hug as best she could with Kitty's hands full, "here set with us, you remember Nina."
Getting a good look at the other girls sitting at the table, Kitty saw the dark haired girl with blue stripes in her hair that was Nina and smiled at her, waving her fingers, "Hey, Nina, love the hair."
"Thanks," Nina smiled back, touching her awesome looking locks.
"This is Latisha," Lori introduced the other two girls sitting at the table as Kitty sat her stuff down, "and Courtney."
"Nice to meet you," Kitty smiled and then turned to a four person table which was only using three of the chairs, "can I take this?"
"Sure," one of them said and Kitty said thanks, grabbing the chair and getting herself situated at the table.
"Kitty Pyrde," Latisha asked, "as in Katherine Pyrde? The girl in the picture?"
"The one and only," Lori said proudly, then turned to Kitty, "Latisha and Courtney are also taking ballet, Miss Morgan still has our photo up from that regional championship we won, you remember that?"
"Oh, wow," Kitty laughed at the nostalgia, "I was like, twelve."
"But the height you were getting on your jumps," Lori pointed out, "she was so proud."
"Once in a lifetime, I swear," she replied modestly with a touch of pink to her cheeks.
"Do you still dance?" Latisha asked her.
"Not steadily," Kitty admitted, "but the school has this gym with a mirrored wall and if I can get some alone time I'll practice a bit."
"That's right," Nina snapped her fingers, "you go to Warren's alma mater."
"What, what now?" Courtney perked up.
"The Xavier Institute," Nina explained, "the same one Warren Worthington III went to."
"Oh my god," the girl's eyes widened as she looked to Kitty, "have you met him?"
"A couple of times," she said slowly, not sure if she should admit to it or not.
"Is he as dreamy in person?" Courtney asked, a silly grin on her face.
"Ah," for some reason all Kitty could think of was Warren's feathery wings knocking stuff over, "he's nice."
"I have no idea what you see in that man," Lori made a face, "he wears trench coats all the time, it's so weird."
"It's a fashion statement," Latisha defended him, "a rebellion against the over-objectification of the human body."
Kitty knitted her brow, is that really what people thought?
Thankfully the conversation didn't devolve farther as the waiter showed up with her veggie breakfast sandwich and cleared the table of some of the girl's empty dishes.
"So," Lori asked, "get up to anything interesting at that school?"
"Oh, you know, the usual," Kitty shrugged as she picked up the sandwich, "fighting a secret terrorist organization of super humans bent on subjugating the human race."
There was a moment of silence before the table burst into laughter.
"Good to see you still have your sense of humor," Lori laughed, grabbing her drink.
"Wait," it just occurred to Kitty, "it's Monday, shouldn't you guys be in school?"
"Snow day," they all said at once.
Kitty frowned, "There is almost no snow outside."
"Yeah, but you know how it is," Nina sighed, "the snow days are built into the schedule and the teachers don't want to go back anymore than we do."
"Oh, right," Kitty had totally forgotten about that tendency since she lived on campus and had a headmaster who could manipulate the weather.
"Why aren't you at school?" Lori asked.
"I got the week off to come home for the holiday," she told her.
"Thanksgiving?" Lori was confused then the light bulb went on, "Oh, that's right, Happy Hanukkah."
"Thanks," she smiled at the girl then bit into her sandwich.
"You don't look Jewish," Courtney said and it was clear the girl wasn't 'trying to be funny', not that it would have been funny if she had.
Kitty blinked and chewed her food as Lori face palmed.
…
"I'm back," Kitty said as she closed the door behind her, a Target bag in hand.
Her mother waved to her but she was on the phone, "No, we need the painters in there on the twelfth if we want to have this ready for the cold opening."
Seeing that she'd probably be busy for a bit, Kitty headed upstairs to put away her conditioner and the few other things she decided to grab while she was there. While she unloaded, she woke up her laptop and put in a call to Doug.
"Hey, Kitty," he answered, "you just caught me, was about to head to lunch."
"Gotta love time zones," she laughed and sat down at her desk, "you got my assignments for me?"
"Yeah," he pulled some paper from his book bag, "but it's not much, it's kinda crazy around here."
"Moreso than usual?" she smirked.
"Well," he leaned forward, "when Scott got back from picking everyone up, that Acolyte, Rogue, was waiting for him."
"Is everyone okay?" she asked.
"She didn't attack them," Doug told her, "she was dropping off this girl who had been one of the mutants held at that research facility. She's in a coma and the Professor thinks she just needs to see her parents again and she'll come out of it."
"Oh, wow," Kitty blinked, that was pretty interesting, "the Acolytes just handed her over?"
"They thought the Professor would be better able help her, I guess," Doug shrugged, "oh, and Jubilee is on a tirade now."
"Really?"
"Yeah, she thinks someone is playing a cruel joke on her," her friend explained, "wanted me to look into the security feed for the reception desk. Apparently someone flashed up the newspaper photo from when her parents died in that car crash."
"That's horrible," Kitty was aghast, "who would do such a thing?"
"I dunno," he frowned, "Miss Munroe okayed me to look through the whole system, but I can't find anything, there's no evidence anyone messed with it."
"That's a sick joke," Kitty shook her head, "I hope you figure out who did it."
"I'll keep looking," he nodded, "anyway, I want to get to the lunchroom before all the good stuff is gone, talk to you later."
"Seeya later," she understood and waved as he disconnected.
Kitty sighed and sat back, trying to figure out what to do with herself. It was nice catching up with Lori and Nina, but she wasn't exactly still good friends with them. Her mom was busy with her job which was fair enough, she'd come get Kitty for lunch and they'd hang out for a bit. Then tonight Trevor would come over for dinner.
But right now… other than maybe checking out Netflix, there wasn't much for her to do.
Getting up, Kitty went over to her bed and flopped down, cuddling her pillow. For a girl who was on vacation and not having to do much, she was awful exhausted.
…
Six Years Ago…
Kitty was curled in bed with her stuffed purple dragon she had since she was seven. She was having a particularly bad dream. Remembering the day she learned her grandmother was dead, the moment she cried and ran away.
She kept running, but the hallway kept getting longer.
"Kitty," a voice called out to her.
The girl stopped and turned around, her grandmother standing in the doorway at the end of the hall, bathed in white light.
"Come, Kitty," her grandmother held out her hand, "it's your time."
"No," she shook her head violently, trying to run away again only to be faced with a blank wall and no way to escape.
"No!" Kitty bolted upright in bed, the dream had been far too vivid for her liking and she could feel tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Wha…" she looked at her hands, like before they were transparent. She held them up, her breathing quickening as she quickly grew terrified.
Next she was falling, a scream ripping from her lungs as she fell through her bed and the floor to find herself landing on the sofa in the living room.
Rolling onto the floor, she became solid, but as she pushed herself up to stand she went transparent again. Her body began to flicker on and off as if someone was playing with a switch.
"Kitty," her parents raced down the stairs, her father leading the way with a baseball bat in hand as if he suspected home invaders.
The two stopped cold when they saw her standing in the middle of the living room, literally a ghost of herself.
"Am I a ghost?" she asked them as she passed her hand through a table lamp, "am I dead?"
All her parents did was stand there, staring at her in shock.
"AM I DEAD?!" she screamed.
1X10 – Ghosts – Act III
"AM I DEAD?!" Kitty screamed at her parents who stood before her, not believing what they were seeing.
Kitty was falling again, this time into the basement to land on the washer and dryer with a hard thud that she definitely felt.
"Ow," she curled onto her side, glad to see she was solid again but it did little to elevate her fears.
The door to the basement opened and light flooded the room. Within seconds, Kitty's mom was holding her.
"Are you hurt," her mom asked as she helped her off the laundry machines.
"What's wrong with me," Kitty asked between sobs, clutching her mother as if her solid form would keep Kitty from fading into nothing.
"I don't know," her mother admitted almost painfully, "I don't… we'll figure this out… we will."
Kitty felt herself being lifted, but this time it was her father picking her up. She instinctively curled against him as she couldn't stop crying, "I don't want to be dead…"
…
"No," Rogue mumbled and her faced crinkled as if she was in pain.
Pyro stood above her and frowned down at her sleeping form, scratching his head.
"Hey," Avalanche came in from the gym area, "have you seen—"
"Shush," Pyro cut him off with a finger to his lips and pointed to the sofa with his other hand.
The Greek frowned and walked forward, seeing Rogue's sleeping form. "She's having a nightmare," he spoke more quietly.
"She's dreaming a memory," Pyro corrected, "just not a happy one."
"Looks painful," he pointed out the obvious distress on her face, "perhaps you should wake her."
"Oh, ho, no, no, no," Pyro shook his head and waved his hands, "bad idea, bad."
"Rogue cannot be that big of a grouch," Avalanche frowned.
"Oh, it's not Rogue you have to worry about," Pyro told him, "it's who you might be waking up with her," the Aussie pulled his shirt up and showed a nasty scar just below his rib cage, "they nearly killed me one time."
Avalanche raised a single brow, "When was this?"
"Um," he put his shirt down, "like five years ago?"
Rogue sat up sharply, breathing rapidly.
"Rogue?" Pyro asked, trying to get her attention without getting into her line of sight.
Rubbing her face, the woman cleared her throat, "Sorry, fell asleep."
"Noticed," the Aussie was glad to see she woke up as herself, "who was it this time?"
"Rowland's guard," she ran her hand through her hair and she swung her legs off the sofa, "the super strength one."
"Discover anything interesting," he asked hopefully.
"Yeah," Rogue stood and stretched a bit, "maybe, give me a minute."
Almost like a zombie the woman walked towards the kitchen to get herself a glass of water.
"That does not look like it was healthy," Avalanche commented.
"Probably wasn't," he agreed.
"But she did it on purpose," the Greek easily caught on, "made herself dream his memories."
"Doesn't always work," Pyro admitted, "but when it does, it works really well."
…
"Hey," Scott stopped Jean in the hall later that evening, "how did Dr. Reyes' visit go with Danielle?"
"It was good," she told him, "as long as we can wake Danielle up in the next week then there really shouldn't be any adverse affects, physically wise."
"Well, that's something," it was good to know that she had a fair chance of recovery.
"The cafeteria should be opening for dinner," she gestured in the general direction of the kitchen, "wanna grab a bite to eat?"
Scott was extremely tempted, after all, it was just a friendly dinner between co-workers in a room full of fellow teachers and students…
A rustle of denim and a fleeting shadow…
"You know, maybe later," he gave her an apologetic smile and before she could respond he headed down the hallway towards the corner where he thought he saw the figure, his brother.
Another faint glimpse of the shadow and he jogged to catch up to it, finding himself in one of the classrooms.
Standing in front of the white board, writing out the word 'betrayal', was a young boy.
"Alex…"
The boy stopped when he finished the L and slowly turned around. He looked the same as the last moments Scott saw him all those years ago, right before he was sucked out of the plane…
"Hello, brother," Alex spoke, the voice achingly familiar.
"This can't be…" Scott breathed.
"Why can't it be?" the figure asked. "Oh, that's right, you killed me."
"You're not real," his shook his head, trying to find a logical explanation, "it's an illusion, a mutation that manifests—"
"Manifest's what, big brother," Alex was suddenly right in front of him, staring at him with accusation in his eyes, "the truth? That you let me die."
"No, no," feelings of guilt and pain boiled to the surface no matter how hard he held them down, "I tried to grab you, I tried."
"AND YOU FAILED!"
Scott stumbled back at the ferocity of his brother's words, smacking into the wall.
"You're my big bro," Alex seemed to be at a loss, "and you didn't protect me. You abandoned mom and dad. And here you are," his arms gestured wide, "in a big shiny house, telling yourself you're gonna help people," the boy laughed, "who the hell are you kidding?"
"Alex," tears escaped from under his red tinted glasses, "I'm… I'm so."
"NO!" he pointed his finger accusingly, "You don't have the right to say you're sorry! You failed us! Your own family!" he pointed to the door, "And you think you're going to save this one?!"
The weight of his brother's words drug him to the floor, Alex was right, he was a failure, to his family, to the school, his team, to everyone.
"Scott!" he barely heard Jean's voice cut through the haze. "Scott, look at me."
"Jean?" his brother was gone and all he could see was the beautiful woman who had her hands on his face, soothing him. She was the woman he was quite possibly in love with… but he'd only end up failing her too.
…
"Sorry, I'm a little early," the man said as he took off his coat just inside the front door.
"Oh, it's fine," Kitty's mom smiled at Trevor while he hung up his coat, "dinner's almost ready."
"Smells delicious, Terri," he gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek, well aware that Kitty was coming down the stairs slowly, silently judging if he was good enough for her mother.
Kitty looked at the man critically. He opted for the more formal look of a light blue suit and jacket, but forwent the tie to give it a more relaxed look. The man wanted to make a good impression but didn't want to look too stuffy or pretentious, she could respect that.
But it would take more than smart dress sense to get Kitty's approval.
Not that Kitty would express her disapproval to her mom unless it was really serious. Her mom deserved to be happy even if the guy happened to have a really annoying laugh or something like that.
"You must be Katherine," he held out his hand politely.
"It's okay," she shook his hand and smiled, "you can call me Kitty."
Trevor had a solid grip and didn't do that creepy thing where he just held on putting his other hand over hers, Kitty really hated that, "It's good to finally meet you, your mom talks about you all the time."
"All the time?" she replied cheekily, "boy, that must get really awkward then."
It took him a second to decide how to reply to that and he went with, "Well, it can, especially when she says all those mean things about you."
"Trevor," her mom gasped at his equally cheeky response, nearly punching him in the shoulder as he laughed.
Well, he had a good sense of humor, that was something at least.
…
Scott was sitting at one of the student desks, rubbing his forehead as if that could get rid of the pounding in his head. Jean had pulled another desk closer to his and was rubbing his back.
"Here you go," JP sat a glass of water down in front of him after running off to get it at high speed.
"Thank you," he took the drink and drowned it.
"You look like you could use something stronger," Bobby commented from where he was sitting on top of one of the student desks.
It wasn't a half bad idea.
"Scott," Xavier came through the door followed by Ororo, "how are you feeling?"
"You want me to be honest," he was a grown man who only minutes before had been bawling like a baby, he was the leader of the team, he was supposed to be stronger than this, "I feel like I just watched my family die right in front of me all over again."
The room went quite, no one wanting to touch that statement.
"I'm sorry," Xavier rolled in front of him, "but please, tell me, what did you see?"
"I saw Alex," Scott pulled himself together, sitting up a little straighter and unconsciously pulling away from Jean, "he looked like the last time I saw him, he was writing on the board," he just now noticed that the word was gone, "but it's not there, he had to have been some kind of illusion."
"Someone was making you see things?" Bobby asked and Scott missed the slight touch of fear in the boy's eyes.
"It was more than that," he cleared his throat, "I wasn't just seeing Alex again, I remembered everything I felt the moment I saw him die as if it just happened. I felt…" years of guilt solidified into a single point of blistering pain, "I felt everything."
"Could this be a secondary mutation manifesting in one of our students?" Ororo asked.
"Hhhmmm," Xavier got that telepathic look in his eye, "there doesn't seem to be any residue of an unknown telepath or other psionic manifestation in Scott's mind. Jean?"
"He looks clean to me," Jean agreed with him, "which is odd, all psionics leave a little trace."
Bobby held his hand up, "Is this a bad time to point out I've been seeing things too?"
Everyone looked to the Iceman, Xavier asking, "When?"
"Earlier today," he pointed at JP, "you remember, when I thought I saw my dad."
"Jubilee," Jean suddenly realized, "she thought someone was playing a trick on her, showing her images of her parent's death."
"So this manifestation is making people see ghosts from their past," JP put it all together.
"But Bobby's dad isn't dead," Jean pointed out.
"That man will outlive Logan," Bobby said as if that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
"Where is Logan?" Scott asked. "If this is bringing up painful memories…"
"I think I have never been more thankful for his want to patronize the local bars," Xavier spoke wryly, "whatever this is, it seems to have a wide area of effect and is getting stronger."
"We should move the children down to the telepath training area," Ororo decided, "the rooms are made to block telepathy and psionics. Whoever is doing this likely does not realize that they are doing it, once we figure out who it is, we can help them."
"Good idea, 'Ro," Xavier agreed, "but let us be gentle about it, if we cause a panic, or even anxiety, it could make the situation worse."
"Agreed," she nodded, "Jean, Bobby, go with Charles to the cafeteria, most of the students are there. Jean-Paul, check outside for any stragglers. I'll start doing a floor by floor search."
Everyone quickly agreed with the plan, JP disappearing while Jean and Bobby stood.
"I'll help with the floor by floor," Scott said as he stood.
"You will go straight to the training rooms," Xavier told him, "you were the first to be seriously affected by this mutation. It could hit you again and may be even worse."
"It's okay," Jean assured him with a hand on his shoulder, "we got this."
"Of course," he nodded and followed with them out of the classroom, knowing they were quite capable of handling this on their own.
They were also right to recognize that he was compromised, at a greater risk to fail them, it was apparently what he was good at.
…
"All right folks," Bobby jumped up on one of the empty tables at the end of the cafeteria, "drill time, yay!" he waved his hands in the air like Kermit the Frog, "so if you would all kindly form straight and orderly lines thatta way," he was now mimicking an air traffic controller, "I promise this is not an attempt to keep Chef's chocolate cake all to myself, tempting as that may be."
It was the smartest idea to get Bobby to move the students, they respected him but didn't quite take him seriously enough to be truly worried that this was anything more than another random drill. Though there was still a fair amount of moans and groans, a few students bringing their pizza or other items with them to finish on the way.
"Follow the hall to the left down to the telepath training area," Jean told them as the kids filed out of the room behind Bobby who was leading the way like a piped piper.
Xavier watched them as they passed, trying to sense for who might be giving off an unusual psionic presence.
"Betsy is already there," Jean said to Charles, "getting the students into the rooms, she said she hasn't had any strange visions today."
"As telepaths we are likely immune," he reasoned, "at least at this stage."
"It's strange though," the woman frowned, "to be able to affect such a wide area and break through Scott's telepath defense training so easily, you'd think we'd be able to sense someone that strong."
"Yes," Charles agreed, they should be able to, so why weren't they?
…
"I'm telling you," Doug was standing with Jubilee in the hallway of the girl's dorm wing, "I've been through the security feed three times now, there is nothing there."
"I know what I saw," Jubilee was just so angry, maybe unreasonably angry, but she had good reason, didn't she?
"It was early in the morning," the man splayed his hands in defeat, "could you have been half awake?"
"Dreamed it?" she laughed at him then shook her head. "Whatever, I'll figure this out myself."
"Jubes," he called after her but she stormed off and went to her room, slamming the door behind her.
Rubbing the bridge of her nose with both hands, she felt like she was going to explode. She went into the bathroom and turned on the water to splash on her face. She was just… so… angry…
There they were, reflected in the bathroom mirror, their eyes boring into her soul with their accusations.
Screaming, Jubilee backed out of the room in a panic, her pulse pounding.
"Jubilation Lee," her mother said and Jubilee turned around to see both her parents standing in the middle of the room.
"This can't be real," she was trembling now, "ghosts aren't real."
In the back of her mind she could hear banging on her door, someone else calling her name.
"We wouldn't be ghosts if it wasn't for you," her father said sternly.
"Always had to be the center of attention," her mother added coldly.
"No, no," she shook her head, "the other driver was drunk, he was speeding, he ran the light."
"Perhaps if I'd been paying better attention," the man gave her no sympathy.
"If you weren't so distracting," the woman sneered.
"It wasn't my fault," tears streamed as she gripped her head, nearly tearing her hair out, "it wasn't my fault."
"It will always be your fault," they both spoke in eerie unison.
"Jubilee!" she felt herself be grabbed. "What's wrong?"
Blinking rapidly, her parents were gone and all she saw was Doug, confusion and fear etched across his face. She collapsed against the tech savvy mutant who held her awkwardly, trying to console her.
"It wasn't my fault," she repeated and she would continue to do so until one day she actually believed it.
…
"Head down to the telepath training area," Ororo told James and Ben who had brought their dinner to their room so they could keep playing co-op on Call of Duty, "stay together, do not stop for anything."
The two boys didn't argue and made their way down the hall to the stairs.
"Ororo," she heard Charles in her mind, "I am getting distress from Jubilee, I fear she may be affected."
"On my way," she told him and headed over to the girls side.
As she turned down a hall, she noticed that the window at the end was gone, blocked by a solid wall.
"That's not right," she said as fear unwillingly crept up inside her.
"What's not right?" Charles asked and she barely heard him over the sudden pounding of her heart.
Turning around, the cross hallway was gone and instead there was another solid wall blocking her path.
"No," she put her hand on the wall and tried to push, it felt solid, "no, it's an illusion."
"'Ro!" the shout was so distant it might have not existed at all.
Behind her, the hallway disappeared, blocked so that she was standing in a ten by ten square space.
"It's not real," her pulse was rapid and her white iris's dilated, "I can escape, I can walk out of this."
Hyperventilating, she backed against the wall and sunk to the floor.
"I'm not trapped," she said as she began to rock herself, "I'm not trapped, not again, never again…"
…
"Everyone, I know it's a little cramped," Bobby was ushering the last of the students into one of the five rooms, "this shouldn't take very long."
"What's going on?" James asked as he and his roommate Ben showed up late to the party.
"Nothing you have to worry about," Bobby smiled and gestured for them to enter the room which acted like a mental Faraday cage.
"All the other rooms are secure," Jean walked up to him, Xavier rolling next to her, "each has adult supervision. If something starts happening, they'll come get us."
"I fear we have lost Ororo," Xavier was frowning, his face that of a man desperately trying to figure out what was going on.
"Does this have to do with Danielle?" James popped his head back through the doorway.
"Miss Moonstar?" Xavier crinkled his brow in thought.
"She's the newest mutant here," the kid pointed out.
"She's in a coma," Bobby stated the obvious.
"So?" was the Apache's only defensive statement.
"Someone should check on the girl," Xavier decided, looking up at the red head, "stay here Jean, continue to search for the source of the manifestations. Stopping this is the only way to truly help those who have been affected."
"Yes, sir," she nodded to him and the Professor wheeled himself down the hallway. Jean then walked around Bobby and poked her head into the last training room, "Where's Scott?"
Bobby didn't hear her, he didn't hear anything, all he could see was his father.
The man stood nose to nose to him, though it was more nose to forehead as the older man was taller than Bobby, looking down at him, always looking down at him.
"This is what you're doing with your life?" he father said, nearly laughing at him, "it's not bad enough that you're a freak, but you had to go and be an accountant too? What, couldn't find a real job?"
"I'll never be good enough for you, will I," Bobby muttered in response, unable to look him in the eye, "not for you, not for anyone, no matter what I do."
"Smartest thing you ever said," this time his father did laugh.
Bobby was yanked back and found himself inside the training room, Jean slamming the door shut, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he cleared his throat and blinked away tears that threatened, "you got me in time, I'm fine."
'I'm Fine', that was the only answer he'd ever give, no matter whatever happened to him, no matter how 'not-fine' things got, because no one liked a whiner, and no one really cared how he felt anyway.
Why should they?
…
Xavier rolled up next to the hospital bed Danielle was laying on, checking her vitals on the screens. She had an IV pumping her fluids and monitors on her head, heart, and lungs. By all outward appearances she looked to be taking a heavy nap.
"Communal empath," Xavier repeated the words, "empathy would explain the effects," he frowned, "but how? How could you break through defense training I myself put in place…" he trailed off as he ran the implications through his mind.
"Oh, now you're figuring it out," a young voice spoke to him, the accent of an American who had spent too much time in Scotland, "the Great Charles Xavier is so brilliant… after the fact."
Charles turned his chair to the side, seeing the twenty something man sitting on one of the spare hospital beds, legs dangling back and forth. He has his mother's coloring, a full head of thick black hair that stood straight on end, a mockery to Charles' early onset baldness.
"You're a manifestation," Xavier spoke clearly, "nothing more."
"Really," the man didn't believe that for a second, "how can you be sure? This is well within my abilities," he laughed as he spread his hands wide, but then his jaw went tight, "and you would know… because you just had to know, isn't that right, dad?"
"David," Charles breathed, mentally telling himself this couldn't be real, but he couldn't stop himself from answering the image, "I didn't know, if I had—"
"You'd what?" his son interrupted him, jumping off the bed. "You just had to see what I could do, you used me like some freaking lab rat," he was seething with anger, "your own son."
"That was never my intention," he argued with himself because this couldn't be real.
"Well, you know what they say about the road to hell," David chuckled, "and that's exactly where the mutant race is going," the boy was in front of him, lording over him, "there will be war, death, and insurmountable pain… and it will be all… your… fault…"
1X10 – Ghosts – Act IV
The young Kitty Pryde was supposed to be in bed but she couldn't sleep, she was too afraid she'd never wake up. Instead she sat at the top of the stairs, her purple dragon clutched in her arms. If she held on to something she knew was solid then she felt safe, felt real and alive.
"What do you mean," her father said, she could just hear her parents as they talked in the kitchen, "he'll be here tomorrow? Who's he?"
"His name is Charles Xavier," her mother replied, "the Rabbi said he could help Kitty. Apparently he's seen something like this before and Xavier helped him."
"You told the Rabbi about our daughter without consulting tell me first?" was all her father got out of that statement, "and you invited some 'specialist' here?"
"What was I supposed to do, Carmen?" she nearly shouted back, "something is wrong with Kitty and she's frightened, she won't eat, she won't sleep, we had to pull her out of school."
"She needs help, yes," her father retorted, "but we should discuss these things first."
"Are we going to do this now?" her mother replied angrily, "our daughter could be dying and you're angry that I didn't call you when I decided to seek the Rabbi's advice?"
"I want what's best for her too," the man threw back, "but you can't just go making these kinds of decisions. We don't know what this Xavier's agenda is."
"The Rabbi trusts him—"
"Oh, well, good for him!"
They carried on like that for another good thirty minutes, enough time for Kitty to blink on and off again twice. But it was only short flickers and she didn't fall through the floor this time. She continued to hold her stuffed dragon tightly, having to believe she would be okay… or at the very least her grandmother would be there waiting for her so she wouldn't be alone.
…
It had taken a long time for Kitty to accept that she wasn't the cause of her parents breaking up, her manifesting her mutant ability simply accelerated the process.
"So, yeah," Trevor laughed, "not doing that again."
"Oh my," her mother returned the laugh and Kitty was happy to see her mom was enjoying herself, she actually seemed to like this guy rather than him being a 'flavor of the month'.
They had already lit the next candle on their family menorah which sat at the end of the table, the dinner winding down from the main course. This didn't stop Kitty from helping herself to another latke, she'd eat a bazillion before she went back to school, of this she was sure.
"Well," the man cleared his throat, "I admit, I'm not sure of the protocols here," he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket which was hanging off the back of the chair, "but I did bring presents."
"Trevor," her mother's cheeks were a little pink, "I told you you didn't have to."
"It's tradition though, right?" he handed over two small red boxes, "Eight days of presents, who doesn't want eight days of presents?"
"It's about more than the presents," Kitty couldn't help say as she accepted the box but it came out a little ruder than she intended as she was still upset about earlier that morning. Everyone at Xavier's was so accepting, it had been awhile since she had come across unintentional yet so blatant anti-Semitism.
The Jewish people had been around for centuries and still faced prejudices, so what hope did mutants have?
"Kitty," her mother seemed to be caught somewhere between agreeing and being embarrassed.
"No, she's right," Trevor held his hands up, "Christmas has the same problem, giving and receiving is a wonderful thing, but that can't be all there is."
"I'm sorry," Kitty hadn't meant to take her fears out on the man when he was just being nice, "that sounded better in my head."
"I've had those moments," he chuckled, "and I'm surprised Terri is still dating me after that fubar on our first date. I never really understood the concept of 'kosher' until then."
"Everyone starts out ignorant, that's nothing to be ashamed of," her mother explained.
"It's your willingness to learn and understand that is the true test of character," Kitty finished for her and her mother smiled proudly at her.
"I'm definitely willing," he said with a laugh, "though I am certainly very trying."
Her mother laughed with him, shaking her head at his self-deprecating joke. She slipped the cover off of the box and Kitty could see it was a diamond and opal necklace. Her mother smiled warmly, "Oh, Trevor, it's beautiful, thank you."
Kitty opened her gift to find a charm bracelet, and not a cheap one but the kind you get in upscale jewelry stores. "Oh, wow," she lifted it up and looked at all the charms which included a pair of ballet shoes, a laptop, even a Star of David.
"I told you your mother talks about you a lot," Trevor looked over at Kitty, "I think I did good, but if you want to have any exchanged, I won't take offense."
"No," she told him, "no, it's beautiful, thank you."
Okay, her mom could keep this one.
"I actually have something for you," her mother said to Trevor, "I was going to give it to you later but now seems like the perfect time, I'll be right back."
Her mother left the table and went upstairs leaving Kitty and Trevor to sit in semi-awkward silence.
"So," Trevor started, "your mom said you're looking into a computer science major?"
"Yeah, programming," Kitty was glad he didn't go with the whole 'I'm not trying to replace your dad' conversation, "thought I'm not sure what college I want to go to yet."
"It's a big decision," he nodded his understanding, "but you know, I changed my major three times in college and here I am, a Deputy District Attorney. So don't stress, it's not the end of the world."
"Thanks," she offered him a smile, "I try not to worry about school, there's a lot bigger things out there to be afraid of."
…
Jubilee managed to stop crying and get her breathing mostly under control but she couldn't stop thinking about what her parents said… no, those weren't her parents, she didn't know what they were but they couldn't be her parents. Her parents were warm and kind… not… not that…
"Come on," Doug was still supporting her, "let's get you to the Professor, or Miss Munroe."
"Yeah," she agreed, rubbing the salty residue from her face and blowing her nose into her sleeve, she was way too exhausted to care about how gross that might be.
"They're probably in the cafeteria," he said as they hurried down the hall.
"Never again, never again," she heard someone mumbling and they looked down the hall to see Ororo sitting on the floor, back to the wall, legs curled up against her.
"'Ro?" Jubilee jogged over to the woman, unsure what to do.
"What's wrong with her?" Doug asked, just as lost.
It took the young girl a moment but it clicked, if Jubilee had seen her greatest fear manifested, that she had been responsible for her parent's car accident, then could the same thing be happening to Ororo?
"Her claustrophobia," she told Doug then squatted down next to the headmistress, laying a hand on her shoulder, "you're not trapped, 'Ro, there's plenty of exits, see, I got in, you can get out."
After a few seconds, the woman began to blink, a slight look of understanding coming into her frightened eyes.
"Let's get her outside," Jubilee grabbed Ororo's arm to put it over her shoulder, Doug quickly moving to help, "nice wide open space."
"Right," he said as they lifted the woman to her feet and made their way to the closest exit, "I'm going to be next, aren't I?"
Jubilee was about to tell him he'd be fine, but if one of the strongest people she knew had fallen victim to whatever this was… "Just think happy thoughts."
"Happy thoughts," he repeated, his voice trembling with a slightly high squeak, "happy thoughts."
They made it out onto the patio, sitting Ororo on one of the chairs, the woman taking deep breaths of the cold night air. Jubilee rubbed her hands and stuck them in her pockets realizing she wasn't dressed to be outside, "Should we move her farther out, you think?"
"I dunno," Doug was equally as cold, rubbing his shoulders.
"You think I wanted to leave you!" they heard someone shout and Jubilee stepped off the patio to get a look around the edge of the building.
"JP?" she asked, seeing the man standing with his back to her, yelling at nothing.
"Damnit, Kyle, I love you!" he said with so much pain, "I will always love you, but I had to make a choice, I had to do what was right for everyone."
"Jean-Paul," Jubilee went up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder, "it's not real, whoever he is, he's not the real Kyle."
The man blinked and glanced around rapidly as he didn't realize he was standing outside of the school, "It felt real," he choked out.
"I know," she gave him a big hug, "I know."
…
"You are not the real David," Charles repeated, turning away from the boy, "you are a projected mental image of my worst fears and guilt."
"Really trying to win that father of the year award, aren't you," David was in front of him again, leaning on one of the monitors attached to Danielle.
"Somehow," Charles reasoned out the logic, it was the only way he knew to combat his fear, "somehow Miss Moonstar's empathy connected to my telepathy, using it like an amplifier. That's how the empathy is affecting everyone, even those with defenses."
"Right, cause you're the all mighty powerful wizard," her son replied sarcastically, "just don't look behind the curtain, that's where he hides his son he's so ashamed of because he wasn't good enough for him."
"I never thought you weren't good enough," he immediately defended himself, then shook his head, "I'm not having this argument with myself."
"Who are you going to have it with then?" David snarked, "You locked me up in Scotland!"
"When I mentally connected with Danielle," he refused to look at the image of his son, "she was already afraid, scared, and she felt my own fears. That's what she's projecting, our fear, which is drudging up the fears of everyone it touches."
"I guess that makes sense, Summers gets the brother he failed to save," David started ticking off, "Munroe isn't afraid of anything except small, tiny, spaces," he said comically, "Drake has daddy issues that are nearly as bad as mine," he snorted, "and you… you get me. Your biggest failure."
"You were never a failure, David," he told his son, "but I failed you."
The man looked him straight in the eyes, "Damn right you did."
…
Jean left the students in the training area, it had taken her a little longer than she would have liked but she put it all together: communal empathy.
Running into the medbay, she spotted Xavier sitting by the girl's bed but he wasn't looking at her, he was instead staring into a blank corner, a look of abject dejection on his face.
"Professor," she called out as she walked over, kneeling in front of him, noting that his pupils were severely dilated. The man was at the corner stone of the epidemic, he wouldn't be woken as easily as everyone else.
Taking a moment to figure out what needed to be done, she put her hand to the man's temple and reached into his mind so she could see what he was seeing.
"Do you really want to do that, Red?" a familiar voice said behind her.
"David?" she stood and looked at the man in only momentary surprise, "Of course, David."
"Good to know we're all on the same page," he laughed, crossing his arms, "Charles Xavier is the worst father ever."
"He didn't know," she walked up to the man, "no one knew that could happen, that pushing your mutation too hard, too fast, could have those kinds of results."
"But he pushed!" David responded angrily.
"He was trying to help you," she argued back, "you were starting to lose control, David, no one was meant for all that power."
"Are you trying to defend him to me?" the man got into her face, trying to intimidate her.
"I'm telling him the truth," she stood up to the figure, "you are the part of his psyche that will always feel guilty for what happened, the part that wishes he could change the past, the part that would do anything to fix the future, the part that needs to sit down and shut up or more people are going to get hurt."
David took a step back, she had broken through and taken away some of his power. If she could just pull Xavier back.
"Hypocrite," was the man's only reply.
"Excuse me," she tried to be offended but she could feel her control slipping away.
"Don't lie to me," he said coldly, taking her by the shoulders, "I know what you're really afraid of."
He turned her around and she wanted to fight him, not surrender to the inevitable reality of her own fears.
Jean Grey came face to face with herself, her body bathed in red hot fire which belied the cold and calculating look in her eyes. That was the truth, she was afraid of herself, of what she was capable of if she simply let go of everything that kept her check. But she was more afraid of the fact that part of her… liked the idea.
…
Not being one to just sit around while others needed help, Scott didn't go the training rooms and instead did his own investigation which led him to realize that these attacks weren't just about fears, it was about emotions.
Walking into the medbay, he saw Jean standing blankly, terror shadowing across her features.
"Jean," he went up to her as she had to him, holding her face in his hands, "whatever it is you're seeing, it's not real, it's not true."
Her eyes refocused on him, "Scott?"
"I'm here," he told her, "I'm real."
"Scott," she breathed a sigh of relief and then placed her hands on his temple, "I need you to see."
"Well then," he heard a familiar voice and looked over to see the Professor's son shaking his head, "just invite more people to the party, it wasn't like I was trying to have a father/son moment here at all."
"David?" somehow that made sense to Scott but he was still confused.
"That's not the real David," Jean explained, moving away from him over to the girl, "it's the manifestation of Xavier's fear, of all our fears."
"Okay, that makes sense," Scott put two and two together.
"When even Replacement Son Figure Number One thinks you're a crappy father," David hopped back up onto one of the medical beds, "then you know you got issues."
"What?" he didn't know how to respond to that.
"He's fear itself," Jean told him, "and fear is irrational, full of lies and half-truths, pay him no heed but keep him off my back while I try to break the connection between Xavier and Danielle."
"You're going to trust the poster boy for self-loathing over here?" David snorted, "Brilliant plan, I'm sure he'll have no problem letting you die too."
"Shut up," Scott yelled at the man.
"I just call them like I see 'em," David smirked, "and what I see is a grown ass man who can't ask the girl of his dreams out on a date because 'reasons'."
"Talk whatever you want about me," Scott went up to the man, grabbing him by his shirt, "but leave Jean out of it."
"Why," ironically Fear wasn't afraid of him, "don't want to fail her too? Like you've failed everyone you've ever known."
"SHUT UP!" he lost his calm and nearly throttled the man.
"STOP IT!" a new voice screamed.
Looking over his shoulder, Danielle was standing in the middle of the room, but this wasn't the girl on the bed, this was a young woman dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with her hair in two braids, a mental projection of herself.
"You heard the boss," David pushed Scott away and dusted off his shirt.
"Danielle," Jean approached the girl, "I know you're afraid, I know bad things happen to you, but it's going to be okay."
"Going to be okay?" the girl was nearly in tears. "I spend every day of my life blocking out the emotions of others and all I've learned is that the world is full of so much pain," she shook her head, "and here, in a school that's supposed to be a haven for people like me, it's no better."
"I'm sorry," Jean told her softly, "there will always be pain, and fear, that's why we have love, and hope, and faith."
"You don't get it," a tear fell down her cheek, "you can barely deal with your own pain, but I have to deal with everyone's. I was taken with others and I could feel their anguish, I even felt one of them die," she looked to Jean, "you know how that feels, no one should ever have to feel that."
"No, no one should," the red head frowned with tears in her eyes, "we'll help you, teach you how to better block the emotions so you won't have to feel anyone's pain ever again."
"It's too late," the girl trembled slightly, "the memories will never go away."
"No," Scott spoke up, "no they won't."
Danielle and Jean looked at him, the latter unbelieving he said that.
"You've seen my pain," he explained, "and I've learned that pain becomes a part of you, it shapes you, and you might even let it influence some of your decisions," he tried not to look at Jean, "but you can't let it rule you."
"You're going to listen to this guy," David scoffed, "he let his family die and has the gall to always take the 'moral high ground'."
"Yes, I failed them," Scott bit out, "and every day I try to do right by everyone else in my life because otherwise what's the point of even getting out of bed, of even trying to live my life, if I don't learn from my mistakes."
"It's all anyone can hope to do," Xavier spoke up, his core personality finally breaking through.
Jean placed her hand on Danielle's shoulder. "And they don't have to do it alone."
Danielle looked between them, that touch of fear still in her eyes but a surety set to her shoulders which wasn't there before, "I don't ever want to be alone again."
"Well," David shrugged as he hopped off the bed, "it was fun while it lasted."
The figure of fear disappeared, as did Danielle, and Scott could feel that they were back to reality, all the mental connections now dissolved. He looked up to see Jean staring at him. How much had she heard of David's ramblings?
There was light moan and she turned to Danielle who was waking up from her coma.
It was finally over.
…
Kitty frowned as her computer wouldn't connect to the person at the other end.
"Everything okay, sweetie?" her mom asked from the doorway.
"Yeah," she shook her head and closed the laptop, "I now it's later over there but I thought Doug would still be awake, guess he went to bed early."
"Doug?" she asked as she leaned against the door frame, "is he your boyfriend?"
Kitty gave her the best rendition of 'the look' she could muster, "Really, mom?"
"I have to ask these things," she said with a smirk, "it's in the daughter contract you signed."
"I had a crappy lawyer," Kitty said with a straight face before chuckling, "but no, Doug is just a friend. His mutation is mental, he can automatically read any code or language."
"He's like a universal translator then?" her mom asked as Kitty sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Basically, yeah," Kitty didn't want to get too technical, "we're the techies of the school so we have to stick together."
"Fair enough," the woman moved to sit next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder, "are you happy there? I mean, really, you can tell me the truth."
Kitty thought back to the incident at the HLS compound, watching a man get shot and killed in front of her.
"It's had its moments," she frowned, then forced a smile, "but if people just gave up because things weren't easy, were would we be then?"
"I try not to think about that," her mom kissed her on the top of her head.
Snuggling up to her mom, Kitty let herself be held. She reminded herself that no matter how difficult things got in the future, she'd always have this… she'd always have a home.
1X10 – Ghosts – Tag
"All the children have been sent back to the cafeteria to finish their dinner," Ororo said as they gathered outside the medbay, "as late as it's getting, I do not want any to go to bed on empty stomachs."
"It seems only a handful got the full force of the empathy spike," Jean told them after leaving Xavier who was doing his own mental recovery, "though several did see flashes and images before we put them into the rooms."
"Can I recommend we call tomorrow a Snow Day?" Jean-Paul replied wryly.
"I believe that can be arranged," Ororo replied with a touch of exhausted mirth.
"Jean," Scott spoke up, "you said that the fear was irrational, full of half-truths and lies."
"Uh, yeah," she nodded, wondering where that question came from, "the effect of Danielle's empathy pulled up everything, regardless of how much merit it might have had."
"I think that's something we should all remember," he told the team, "there are no bigger lies than the ones we tell ourselves, whatever we saw, whatever we felt, it wasn't real, it wasn't the truth."
"I'll tell myself that after a fifth of Scotch," JP patted him on the shoulder and headed out of the room.
"I think I shall be sleeping under the stars tonight," Ororo also started to leave.
"It's thirty seven degrees outside," Bobby told her, "and that's not accounting for wind chill."
"I have slept naked in the Siberian tundra," the woman replied, "here I will be entirely more modest."
"I did not need to know that," Bobby paused in his steps, "but thank you for taking my mind off my own problems."
This just left Scott and Jean in the room, so she turned to him, "Scott—"
"Night Jean," he said quickly, turning and leaving the room.
Was he just going to pretend that she hadn't heard everything David said? It may have been a half-truth, but what half was a lie, and what half was the truth?
…
"You said you had something?" Pietro asked Rogue who was standing at the kitchen island, maps and photos in front of her.
"I think so," she nodded, "the memories were fragments but it was there."
"What was there?" he tried to figure out what she saw in all the information.
"A human trafficking ring," she told him, "only with mutants. We always figured one had to exist, what with government black ops programs and secret mutant researchers like Rowland needing test subjects."
"Yes," he nodded with a touch of disgust in his voice, "but they've always been careful to keep themselves hidden, we haven't figured out how."
"Because they've been hiding in plain sight," Rogue told him, her hand pointing at a building with a large logo on the front of it:
Worthington Enterprises.
X-Men: The (fan fic) Series
On the next episode of X-Men: The (fan fic) Series…
—"There's going to be a shipment, tonight." – Rogue
—"Are we going to pretend that didn't happen?" – Jean
—"Hank!" – Jubilee
—"Name's Captain Carol Danvers, U.S. Air Force." – Carol
—"How far does this rabbit hole go?" – Pyro
—"Just like old times, Logan." – Carol
Episode 1X11 – Pinnacle
1X10 – Ghosts
Written by JayCee
Based off Marvel Comics' X-Men created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby,
with Chris Claremont.
Adapted for Television by JayCee
Executive Producer – JayCee
Co-Producer – Chellerbelle
Special Consultant on Jewish Matters – geekgirl101
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