I.
On Sunday night, most of the students and faculty within the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters rested within the security of warm blankets and soft mattresses. However, there was a fraction of a handful that rebelled against sleep, determined to discover things about themselves that before now seemed elusive and foreign.
"Again," Michael Lawson commanded through gritted teeth. Beads of sweat trickled down the side of his face as his dark eyes fixated on the laser pointed at him. Internally, he focused his thoughts, as he had several times up to this point, to use his telekinesis against an energy attack.
Before his fight with Arminthorpe, he bought into the fact that energy was intangible, therefore unable to be averted or manipulated by any physical force, even telekinesis. However, when he found himself impossibly repelling a rather forceful energy-based attack, he was floored, unable to fully believe that he could actually apply psionic force to something that was otherwise impossible to touch. Now, as he stood before the laser, bruised from the multitude of direct hits he had taken, he seriously doubted that he could recreate the phenomenon, let alone actually control energy at a consistent level.
Before him, a high-tech laser gathered in molecules of glowing energy, which condensed into a single globe of energy. In the next split second, the light pulsed then launched forward in a highly concentrated beam. Michael projected his thoughts forward, trying and failing to alter its trajectory. Upon impact, there was a flash and pressure as the force knocked him onto the frigid, metallic floor. Pain reverberated through his entire body, and as he laid there, the edge of fatigue, frustration, and pain eroded his will to try one more time.
"Abort program."
Surprised by another undetected presence, he managed to turn his head slightly and saw Emma Frost standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a cold expression on her face.
"I'm not fond of students using the Danger Room to explore their masochist inclinations," she said.
If he had the strength, Michael would have rolled his eyes and retorted with a sharp comment. But with his vitality waning, he just gave an almost inaudible sigh of agitation as he clambered to his feet. He rotated his arm, feeling twinges of soreness in his shoulder and chest, then focused his attention on Emma.
"I couldn't sleep," he half-heartedly replied, but even as he said it, it sounded flimsy and hollow. And Emma's expression told him it was.
But, instead of chastising him, she replied, "You have an exceptional amount of power, Lawson. But something's holding you back."
"Isn't that what we're supposed to be learning here—restraint?"
"Control," Emma corrected. "There's a difference."
"Right," he wistfully replied.
Noting his demeanor, she switched her investigative tactics. "So why exactly were you in here blasting yourself with a laser?"
Michael knew the question was coming sooner or later. He had successfully avoided Ethan's inquiries on his powers over the past few weeks, and he completely avoided any questions that Vanessa may have had. But eventually, he knew that an explanation was in order, especially after what happened at the Arminthorpe Corporation.
He shifted his weight uncomfortably, wincing at the bruises already forming on his chest and abs. "When we fought Arminthorpe, something happened. I'm not sure what exactly, but I could…I don't know…it was like I could control energy with my telekinesis. It was crazy, because I thought that I could only affect physical things. But now, I can't. And there was something else…" Michael trailed off.
Emma cocked a brow. "Care to elaborate on this something else?"
"Not really," he quickly replied. He wasn't sure whether Emma was actually concerned or if she was probing for a completely different reason. Either way, he now wished that he had waited a little longer to reveal what happened as he watched Emma's face transform from concerned to dark curiosity.
"You know," she began as she took slow, deliberate steps around him. "I'm not fond of my students keeping secrets. Those secrets usually come back in the form of disgruntled, evil family member or some circumstance that places the entire school in danger."
"Yeah, like the deal with your sister?" he retorted.
"Touché. But the fact remains, Monet's secrets were dangerous, so I won't make the same mistake of underestimating yours. If you won't tell me, well…there's always the hard way."
Michael was surprised when Emma stopped pacing and faced him head-on. At that moment, he knew that they were locked in a showdown of sorts, but he was the one with a clear disadvantage. He figured that any member of the faculty should be able to singlehandedly wallop any one of the students, if not all of them, at the same time. If she wanted to pick through his brain, he knew there wasn't much he could do to stop it.
"You're going to invade my mind?" he inquired, as if he didn't already understand what Emma was clearly stating. Right now, he could either buy himself some time to think of how to get out of this situation or do his best to sweet-talk her. "I thought we were learning restraint."
She corrected, "Control."
"Well then, shouldn't you show some control and restraint, and stay out of my head?"
"Are you going to stop me?"
There was a hint of a challenge in her voice, something that made Michael uncomfortable. At the same time, blood rushed to his face, and he felt as though he were going to burst into flames at any moment. "You're making a mistake. I'm not hiding anything."
"Then there shouldn't be any problem with me finding out for myself, right?"
Michael knew that he wasn't getting out of the situation until Emma was satisfied. She had no reason to mistrust him, but he knew that she wasn't going to allow any circumstances that could be potentially dangerous remain uninvestigated. He had no choice but to comply, whether he liked it or not.
"Go ahead then," he replied, mustering strength that he didn't have.
He barely had time to brace himself as a dull pain surfaced at the front of his head. He saw Emma's eyes burn a subtle pink hue as she brought her hand to her temple, the most common outward sign that a psychic was using his or her power. A tingling sensation rippled through somewhere inside his skull, and though it wasn't exactly painful, it felt slightly uncomfortable. As the seconds wore on, he felt a dull pressure in his head and a throbbing headache surface.
Michael was ready to object, noticing Emma's rigid expression. But he thought twice about it and decided to let her continue until she was done. But he didn't know how much longer he could withstand the now dizzying headache pulsing behind his eyes. Hopefully, she would be done before he completely blacked out.
Emma knew the effects of her probe on Michael, but she had to risk hurting him to make sure there wasn't a much larger danger that could hurt them all. Surprising to her, she ran into several formidable mental blocks, keeping her from seeing certain memories or thoughts. Considering the level of her ability, she was surprised she couldn't break through them. And using too much force would do more damage than good, so she simply left those areas untouched.
However, before she finished, she detected a remotely familiar thought pattern, something other than Michael's. But before she could probe any deeper, a wall of resistance pushed her away, blocking any further mental investigation. Then, without warning, a blue-hued energy erupted from his head and shot forward as a psi-bolt, which found its target with ease. Piercing Emma directly in the chest, it threw her backwards, a combination of both psychic and telekinetic energy.
Surprised at how fast everything had happened, Michael's apprehension and agitation drained away as the pain suddenly stopped, and Emma hit the floor hard. For a moment, he was paralyzed with disbelief. Michael had never done anything like that before, and for just a moment, he wondered if he had somehow tapped into a much stronger power than his own. Though he had used a similar attack against Mina Laroché, the sheer force behind the attack was something new and, in a way, exciting. But he couldn't understand how or why he had lashed out at Emma.
He half-ran, half-floated to her side. "Ms. Frost! I—I don't know what happened. I—"
Emma threw up a silencing hand as she rubbed the back of her neck, which had already begun to stiffen. "It's fine. I still haven't learned to keep my guard up with you children. I figure that barbaric attack was your own form of psychic defense."
He stood next to her, embarrassed, worried, and even a little frightened. "I didn't even know I could do something like that."
She stood, brushing dust off her gleaming white pants. "There are many things that you children are capable of that you just don't realize. But I know, and so do other people out there. It's the reason why you're here—so you can understand your full potential."
"My full potential?" Michael repeated, thinking back to the feeling that rushed through him as he could feel objects down to the molecule. And just now, though he felt a deep remorse for attacking Emma, somewhere else, there was a feeling of excitement and a desire to do more. More than he had ever done before. Was that his full potential? And wouldn't power like that be dangerous?
To Emma, he said, "I'm not quite sure that I want to know my full potential. I mean, honestly, moving things with my mind is cool, but right now, all it's brought me is trouble. I don't talk to my parents, there's a corporation after us, and we're been defeated in every battle so far. Not exactly a highlight of my life, Ms. Frost."
"There are far worse things that could have happened."
"Yeah. I could have gotten killed about ten times up to this point." he sighed heavily and shook his head. "Being a mutant doesn't automatically make me an X-Man, let alone a hero. Maybe I can't—"
"You can't if you don't want to. This isn't going to be easy. But you have something that makes you valuable to a whole lot of people both good and evil. If you don't consciously use your powers for the better, someone will find you and use you for the worst."
"You say it's not easy, but you make it sound so cut and dry."
"At the end of the day, it really is that cut and dry. Now, you should head to bed, Mr. Lawson. Your lack of sleep won't be an excuse for tardiness."
"Yes, ma'am," Michael replied, despite wanting to talk more. For the first time, he actually felt like Emma was mentoring him as opposed to chastising him. But he could also tell that she had discovered something in his mind that concerned her. As he walked out of the Danger Room, he wondered exactly what it was and if it had anything to do with the strange voice he heard before.
Once Michael left the room, Emma called out to Sean telepathically. "Sean, get in touch with Hank and the Professor. And as much as I loathe her, ensure Jean Grey comes with them. I'm sure she would be interested to know about this."
"What's wrong?" Sean groggily replied, obviously jolted out of his slumber.
"It's too early to say. But I can't take a chance, not after what I saw. We'll brief them tomorrow and have him examined after school."
"Aye. Tis somethin' we need t' be concerned about?"
"Without a doubt."
II.
Paige Guthrie leaned against the wall as she peered through the window in the door of the med bay recovery room. She watched the blinking lights of the machines then let her eyes wander to the girl lying on the bed, connected to those machines. "Clarice," she whispered, wondering if the girl could even remotely hear her.
Since Clarice's unexpected arrival and subsequent placement in the med bay, Paige had gone down almost every fifteen minutes to check on her. And though Hank and Cecelia both assured her that Clarice would be fine and that what happened wasn't Paige's fault, she couldn't bring herself to agree with either statement. Guilt racked her brain as she almost obsessively played the whole situation over again in her mind, trying to figure out if she could have done something differently that wouldn't have hurt Clarice.
Just as Paige began to wade through the series of events for the hundredth time, a voice cut through her thoughts.
"I figured you'd be down here," Ethan Callaghan announced as he approached her. "How is she?" He peered through the window past Paige then frowned with concern.
"She still hasn't woken up. Dr. McCoy says there's nothing wrong. I—I just wish she'd open her eyes. I wish I could talk to her. I wish I knew that she would be fine."
Ethan turned from the window and met Paige's blue eyes. "What about you? Are you okay?"
Paige lowered her eyes. "Yeah. I guess," she sighed heavily then turned her eyes upwards. "I mean—yeah. I'm fine."
He could tell she was trying to be strong. For the team. For herself. More than anything, he respected her resilience and concern for her teammates. "You sure?" he asked, not in a doubtful way but more from a worried teammate standpoint.
Paige pushed her hair behind her ear, not usually comfortable with facing her own inadequacies. "No. No, I'm not."
"Talk to me, Paige. Tell me what's going on. This isn't just about Clarice, is it?"
"I think I'm just having a moment. I try to be strong...that's what a leader has to do. But it just gets so hard. And now with Clarice..." she caught herself. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling...I..."
"It's okay. You can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything, and I'll listen."
Feeling her face grow warm, Paige suddenly felt like a school girl with a crush. "I appreciate it," she whispered. Before she knew what she was doing, Paige reached out and caressed Ethan's face. "And thank you for caring."
Ethan closed his eyes and focused on the soft touch of her fingertips. He could feel her warmth pouring from her hands, and her gentle caress sent surges through his body. Before he even knew what he was doing, Ethan leaned forward, touching his lips against hers. Though he shouldn't have been, the softness of her lips surprised him and the gentle return of that kiss surprised him even more.
"Ahem."
The interruption startled Paige and Ethan, both realizing the implications of what had just happened. Throwing a startled glance in the direction of the interruption, they froze as a familiar, blue-furred doctor's eye scolded them over spectacles.
"Dr. McCoy!" Ethan reflexively said, feeling the rush of blood to his face. "We were just—" he tried to explain, but Hank simply shook his head, cutting him off.
"Ah, yes. The birds and the bees. An eloquent dichotomy of beauty and peril that blossoms in almost a storybook manner. My own life experiences have introduced me to the tale, and I am well aware of the happenstance transpiring before my rather timely interruption." He punctuated the last sentence with a knowing glance, glazed with an overtone of scolding.
"Hank!" Paige exclaimed, her face a deep red. "It wasn't anything like that! I just wanted to check on Clarice!"
"And I wanted to check on her," Ethan added, referring to Paige. "I mean, she's been having a hard time with all of this."
"Then the proverbial one thing led to another," a large smile spread across Hank's bestial visage. "Though you are not youngsters, I would beg to argue that it is much past your curfew. I shall chaperone the two of you to your respective rooms to prevent any more checks on each other."
Thoroughly embarrassed, Paige gave Ethan an unreadable glance before storming past Hank.
"After you, young man," Hank waved his hand as an offer for Ethan to stay within his sight.
Ethan opened his mouth to say something, but a head shake from Hank stopped him abruptly, and Ethan simply fell in behind Paige.
While the three of them made their way down the hallway, inside of the med bay recovery room, Clarice Ferguson stirred.
III.
Clarice Ferguson's whole body felt as though it had been put through a blender. As her eyes flickered open, struggling to adjust to the dim lighting, she attempted to move her arm and found that something held her back. Moaning, she turned her head slightly, discovering that she was connected to foreign machines that beeped and lit up on their own respective beats.
"Where—?" she groaned, surprised that her own voice was so cracked and dry. Chancing a slow glance back and forth, she was alone in a sterile room. Aside from the machines, there was a small chair and wall locker on the other side of the rather small room. No windows to the outside. A door with a viewing window. Where the hell was she?!
Moving gingerly, Clarice removed the monitors from her arm, unknowingly causing an alarm to go off upstairs. She slid out of the bed carefully, still trying to recover her balance. Noting that she was in a hospital gown, she tried to remember what had happened. How had she gotten here? The more she tried to remember, the hazier it got.
She shook off her disorientation then made her way to the wall locker and opened it to find her green outfit hanging and boots resting on the floor. She changed quickly, leaving the gown crumpled on the floor, then pressed herself against the door, chancing a glance into the hallway. No one there.
Clarice didn't want to attempt to teleport, especially in a foreign place—there was no telling where she would end up. "Guess I have to do this the old fashioned way," she said aloud, as she prepped to fight her way out.
IV.
Paige could still feel the hot embarrassment burning her face and ears as she climbed the stairs, followed closely by Ethan with Hank at the back. She felt like a school girl, caught by a teacher in the middle of some wrongdoing. Well, it is an accurate description, she wistfully thought to herself. Though she didn't necessarily feel that there was any wrongdoing going on.
And at least they hadn't blown up half the school.
Paige thought about saying something to break the uncomfortable silence, but she didn't trust herself to say anything helpful at all. She simply continued her stride until a foreign sound stopped her in her tracks.
She threw Hank a confused glance. "What—what's that?"
Hank glanced around, confused himself, until he seemed to suddenly recognize the repetitive, wavering alarm. "My stars and garters. The med bay alarms are sounding."
Ethan repeated, "The med bay alarms?" It was the first he had heard of them. He figured that he could ask Rico about it later, since he seemed to know about every gadget and device Forge installed and left for them. Focusing, Ethan, slightly confused, turned to Hank. "But the only person down there is Clarice. And she was resting. Do you think it's a false alarm?"
Hank rubbed his chin for a moment. "Forge built this system. There's no such thing as a false alarm," Hank said as he turned on his heel and bounded towards the stairs heading toward the med bay.
"I'm going too!" Paige exclaimed. Without waiting for Ethan to try to stop her, she bolted back towards the stairs, her rapid heartbeat drowning out his rapid footsteps right behind her. Nearly stumbling down the stairs, she reached the bottom and froze, causing Ethan to nearly ram into her.
"Paige, what's—" he began. But when he followed her gaze, Ethan cut his sentence short and stared in disbelief.
At the end of the hallway, Clarice Ferguson stood, an expression of deadly intent tangled with a hint of fear. "I don't know who you are, but I suggest you get out of my way."
"Cl—Clarice?" Paige stammered. For a moment, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Not only was Clarice up and about, but this also wasn't the timid girl that she remembered. Her stance and voice demanded attention and respect—the girl now standing before them was confident. And possibly lethal.
Hank spoke in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "Welcome back to the land of the living, young lady. I'm Dr. Hank McCoy—"
"Monster!" Clarice cried. She whipped her hands around then suddenly brandished her trademark short javelins as if they were claws, charged with a pink-hued energy. Without hesitation, Clarice grunted as she threw them with deadly intent.
Paige watched in horror as Hank threw himself in front of her and Ethan, the javelins finding their mark in Hank's broad chest. For a fraction of a second, she swore that Hank's entire body split off at hundreds of random angles then instantaneously reformed. With a grown, Hank went down hard.
"Beast!" Paige cried as she immediately kneeled down at his side. She could see Hank's chest still moving up and down as he breathed, which gave her only a slight feeling of relief. Snapping her head up, Paige addressed Clarice. "Don't do this! We're not going to hurt you!"
"Then that makes this a lot easier!" Clarice said. More javelins appeared and sailed noiselessly towards Paige and Ethan. This time though, they collided with an amber shield and with a loud zap, the javelins disintegrated, their own energy turned against them. Cecelia felt the backlash of the colliding energies, but it wasn't enough to take her out of the fight.
"Dr. Reyes?" Paige said, surprised that Cecelia was the originator of the protective barrier. Up to this point, Paige was totally unaware that the good doctor was a mutant, but then the stories about Cecelia's introduction into the X-Men came back to her. Surprisingly, the doctor didn't seem to be all that reluctant to use her powers, but it was her job to save people, and in this situation, Paige was thankful for her timely intervention.
Quickly assessing the situation, Cecelia realized that they were at a clear disadvantage. Hank was down. Clarice posed herself aggressively towards them, meaning they had a fight on their hands, no matter what they said. Judging from Ethan's stance, he was ready to fight back, but she was sure that at this point, he wasn't a match for someone that could obviously fight and was scared. And Paige's rather passive power couldn't stand up to Clarice's spatial displacement ability. Even Cecelia could only withstand so much impact to her shield, as she already felt her strength waning from earlier attack.
"You two, get upstairs now!" Cecelia commanded, keeping a close eye on Clarice. She would rather Ethan and Paige get upstairs and get help as opposed to engaging in a battle in the cramped corridor. "I can handle this myself."
"No, you can't," Ethan said, still facing Clarice. "Keep that shield around me, doctor. I'll make her listen to reason." Without waiting for the argument that he knew was coming from both Paige and Cecelia, he bolted forward.
Of course, Cecelia tried to object, shouting over Paige's warning to Ethan, but the boy had already pressed forward. She didn't know what he was planning, but whatever it was, she hoped that Ethan didn't get himself hurt. And she made a mental note to give him quite the lecture when things settled down. In the meantime, Cecelia concentrated on extending her shield, keeping it about a foot in front of Ethan as he sprinted down the hallway, tapping into his own heightened speed.
Clarice was ready for a fight, and when Ethan charged toward her, her full lips curled in an anticipatory smile. Such a bullheaded charge was nothing short of amateurish—she had been trained to fight by the best, and if that was how Ethan engaged her in battle, there was no way that would win against her. She was more than confident as her attacker closed the distance between them.
"You may be protected from the front," she stated as another blink echoed through the corridor, and she leaped forward into a circular portal with pink energy dancing around its edges. Almost instantaneously, Ethan heard Clarice grunt as a hard, solid kick struck him in the back of his neck long before he even thought of turning around. Caught completely off-guard, Ethan pitched forward as pain shot through his neck and head. Darkness crept in from the corners of his eyes as he hit the cold, unforgiving floor. Damn! he cursed to himself as he climbed to his hands and knees, trying desperately to shake off the looming unconsciousness.
"Dios!" Cecelia gasped, realizing far too late that Ethan's bullheaded charge was foolish at best, considering Clarice's teleportation ability. She pulled her shield back and postured it in front of her and Paige, and shouted, "Leave him alone. You're making a mistake, girl. We're not trying to hurt you."
"Yeah," Clarice gave a dismissive glance toward Ethan, who struggled to get to his feet. "Right." She beamed over her quick win, and the glint in her eyes said she was ready for more.
"Ethan!" Paige cried out, but then turned her focus to Clarice, who now faced both she and Cecelia. "Clarice," she said and slowly rose from her place beside an unconscious Hank. "Please don't do this!"
Her lavender, pupil-less eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Paige thought that there was a momentary sense of recognition. But it passed, and Clarice dashed at full speed toward her and Cecilia. But just as Paige thought the girl was going to run the both of them down, Clarice teleported behind them, then darted up the stairs.
Paige took a deep breath, her heart still racing. "Dr. Reyes, make sure Ethan and Hank are okay. I'm going after her."
"You're not going anywhere. She's dangerous, and you're not equipped to handle her."
"She's scared. I have to talk to her...I don't care about the danger. I've been in worse situations.
"No. You saw what happened to Ethan. Paige, she—"
"Let me go."
Paige's eyes burned with determination, and Cecelia couldn't deny the girl's sincerity or passion. Going against her better judgment, she lowered her amber shield, and Paige took off, disappearing around the corner before she could give another piece of cautionary advice.
Cecelia pulled out her communicator, quickly tapped into the school's intercom system, and announced, "Patient Clarice Ferguson has left the med bay. Proceed with caution as patient is disoriented and dangerous." She hoped the others were familiar enough with Clarice's abilities, that they didn't engage her head-on. She was sure that if they did, Clarice's next attack would have a much graver outcome.
On the floor above, Clarice heard the announcement echoing through the building. Smiling to herself, she said, "Disoriented, no. Dangerous, totally."
V.
Paige took the steps two at a time, only remotely hearing Cecelia's warning over the intercom system. Her mind raced through what to do if she managed to corner Clarice. She took out Hank way too easily, and obviously, her fighting skills were well above average. Though Paige had been taking her hand-to-hand combat lessons with Sam, her brother, and Sean seriously, she knew that she wouldn't fare well against someone with Clarice's skill.
Regardless, her heart told her she needed to reach Clarice and somehow make her remember, in spite of personal danger. And that's exactly what she intended to do.
VI.
"Ach. Sleep tis hard t' come by 'round here," Sean said aloud as he slid into a pair of jeans. Only moments ago, the med bay alarm resounded though his room, jolting him out of his sleep. Granted only about thirty minutes before that, Emma had interrupted his sleep with a cryptic message about one of the students, Michael Lawson.
When Forge first installed Cerebra, he also equipped the school with an intricate alarm system, routing most of the alerts into certain areas of the school and personal living areas, including Sean's bedroom. It seemed like a good idea, but now Sean wondered if it actually was. If it goes off every time there's a slight disturbance, Ah'll ne'er get a full night o' rest, Sean thought.
Barefoot and shirtless, Sean ran down the hallway, figuring that the alarm was either a malfunction or something miniscule that would be handled within minutes. However, when he heard Cecelia's intense warning, he knew that things were much more serious.
He rounded the corner into the living room to find Clarice standing in the middle, surveying her opponents carefully. Paige blocked the path to the med bay, still breathing heavily. Emma had responded as well and now stood in the hallway leading to the Danger Room. Angelo, Everett, and Jubilee carefully edged down the stairs as Monet flew over the balcony and hovered about a foot off the floor, surveying and analyzing the scene carefully.
"Seems Clarice has woken up," Emma telepathically informed Sean.
Sean frowned, "Thank ye fer th' news flash."
Clarice turned the corner of her mouth upwards in a sinister manner. "Here's the plan: I'm going to leave this place. And anyone that stands in my way will get hurt. Badly. Questions?"
Sean frowned then projected his thoughts to Emma. "Th' lass means business. Can ye try t' talk to her?"
"No, Sean. I'm simply standing here, gracing the room with my presence and enjoying the show."
Emma's sarcastic tone was frustrating, but at the same time, Sean knew that concern racked her as well. And she was probably formulating some way of ensuring no one got hurt. He just wished she would share that knowledge with him. Right now, they all were at a significant disadvantage, considering Clarice's ability. In the literal blink of an eye, she could cause anyone of them significant harm.
"Clarice," Paige calmly said as she took a slow step forward, holding her hands out in a peaceful gesture. "No one wants to hurt you."
She shot Paige a threatening glance. "You saw what I did to your boyfriend. Don't make me hurt you too." She smiled as Paige froze, her face reddening in embarrassment. Clarice noticed that all of the people that surrounded her now seemed like they had just rolled out of bed. Despite the grave situation Clarice thought herself to be in, these people were nonthreatening and honestly, much more passive than she would have expected.
Despite her intentions to escape, something kept bothering Clarice. These people, they all seemed somehow familiar, though she couldn't understand exactly why. At this point, she could have easily teleported out of the seemingly normal mansion, but the nagging feeling began to override her sense of survival.
"Someone is going to tell me what this place is and how I got here," Clarice demanded, brandishing more charged mini-javelins. "Then I'm going to leave without any more trouble. Got it?"
Everett followed Paige's lead and took a friendly, nonaggressive step forward. "You're at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters." He thought about synching to her ability, but he was still too close to the others. If he tried to get too close to Clarice, he knew she would react offensively. All he could do was to try to use words to diffuse the situation somewhat. "We're in Snow Valley. Massachusetts. This is just a school, and we're students."
Clarice's expression told Everett that she had rejected his story and was ready to make an example out of him to get the answers she wanted. He braced himself for an attack, but Paige managed to step in once again.
"Clarice—" Paige softly said.
Clarice snapped her head towards Paige, pointing a charged mini-javelin at her. "Stop talking to me like you know me."
"But I do," Paige quickly retorted. "We do. You don't remember, do you?"
"Remember what?" Clarice roughly asked.
"We were kidnapped by the Phalanx—you, Monet, Angelo, and I." Paige pointed to each of them, hoping that seeing their faces would jog some kind of memory. She wasn't sure exactly how or why they were all here, but Paige was thankful that they were there.
"Kidnapped? The Phalanx?" Clarice repeated with a tone of disbelief. "Don't lie to me!"
Jubilee chimed in, catching Paige's cue. "Dude, it's not like a lie or anythin'. The Phalanx is this totally lame alien race that wants ta like absorb folks inta their collective or whatever. It's just like what they do. And we were like next on tha list."
Paige smiled tenderly. "You were so scared back then."
"Truth be told, chica, so was I," Angelo added, hoping to break the tense atmosphere.
"We all were," Everett agreed. "But I think in the end, you were the bravest one, Clarice."
After hearing all of them talk, Clarice felt something change. It was small, and almost unnoticeable, but she felt that the moment of recognition from earlier had become a distinct feeling of remembrance. Suddenly, the people around her didn't seem so threatening or foreign. No, she knew these people. And they knew her.
"Harvest. He wanted to kill everything," Clarice lowered her javelins as her voice lowered. "Back then, I was naïve. I was simply horrified that anyone or thing could have so much hatred and disregard for human life. I swore I'd never use my power against a living being. But Harvest..." Clarice trailed off.
Like a slide show, the images slowly flashed through her mind, bringing back memories that she didn't even know she had. For years, she had questions, but suddenly, the answers were appearing before her. An overwhelming feeling of vertigo hit Clarice, and she fought it back, wanting to remember everything.
Clarice continued to voice the scenes running through her mind. "No one else could defeat him. The Phalanx could adopt and evolve to counteract most mutant powers. But my spatial displacement was random and was the thing that ultimately defeated him. Mr. Cassidy," Clarice looked up and made contact with the Irishman. "You reached for me, but I couldn't feel you."
Sean quietly replied, "Ah thought ye were lost t' us forever."
"You—you were there...reaching for me then..." Clarice trailed off as the dizziness took over, and she succumbed to the solace of darkness, temporarily forgetting about the confusion swirling about in her head. She crumpled to the floor, and almost immediately, Sean and Paige were by her side, while the others looked on with concern and confusion.
Everett was the first to break the silence that fell over the group. "Is she going to be okay?"
Emma strode closer to the students while Sean and Paige tended to Clarice. "She had a mental block, preventing her from remembering that whole event. While you all prattled on, I simply broke down that mental block so she would remember. But I didn't have the luxury of time...think of it as a broken dam of thoughts suddenly flooding her mind."
Jubilee crossed her arms and attempted a judgmental glare. "Like, geez, Frostie. Way ta like utilize finesse an' all that jazz ta get the job done. Real sympathetic-like."
Emma dismissed her comment with a look that could have shattered stone. "She'll be fine after a good night's rest. Clarice was scared and willing to take down anyone that stood in her way, like both Hank and Ethan. I'd rather not have to deal with an injured bunch of teenagers. Besides, I don't want any of you late for class because you got hurt trying to fight Clarice, who seems to be quite the formidable fighter."
After checking her pulse and breathing, Sean determined that Clarice was fine—she had only fainted. With Paige watching, Sean lifted Clarice in his arms, almost surprised at how light the girl was. "Emma, any idea where th' lass has been?"
"There's no telling," Emma replied, shaking her head. "Her mind is fractured—I couldn't see anything after we lost her. Let's get her back to the med bay. Hopefully, she won't feel the need to attempt another jailbreak. As for the rest of you, just as I told Mr. Lawson earlier, a lack of sleep will be no excuse for your tardiness."
As Sean, with Clarice in his arms, and Paige headed toward the lab, Emma noticed the other students still lingering. Without really trying, Emma could feel the thoughts of disbelief, concern, and curiosity coursing through the remaining students. Except Monet.
Monet lowered herself to the floor, giving Emma a sharp glare. "I would interject that my peaceful and necessary slumber was interrupted by your rather rude psychic intrusion. Unlike my cousin, the circumstance of my potential tardiness for class would be wholly your fault, of which you should undoubtedly take the blame. From a holistic perspective, I fail to see the purpose of our presence in this circumstance. You, Paige, and Sean would have handled this situation efficiently enough."
Yawning, Emma replied, "I figured a few familiar faces would help jog her memory. But now that your usefulness has run its course, it's bedtime, children. Trust me, I'll ensure Cecelia keeps all of you updated on Clarice's status."
"We're not your pawns to use however you see fit, Emma," Monet snapped.
"Like why does Monet get ta call ol' Frosty, Emma?" Jubilee quietly commented.
Angelo replied, "Shhh. This is gettin' good, chica."
Emma crossed her arms. "Don't be overdramatic, darling. I never said that I saw you as such."
"Your actions do not belay anything different."
"Well, this is unexpected coming from the student that puts herself so high above others, continually belittling those around you to make yourself feel better. And this is the same student that manipulates situations to her own advantage, while keeping her trust reserved for only a select few. Your outburst is childish at best, Monet. I suggest you readdress this when you've put a little more thought into your argument and can address your feelings like the adult you want to be."
Monet looked as thought she had been physically slapped. Then her surprise morphed into unbridled anger and hatred, and she balled her fists at her sides. "How dare you! I won't be talked to that way by anyone. Especially you."
"Maybe it's time someone did. Now, does anyone else have any gripes that they want to publicly express?"
Jubilee frowned and replied, "Well, actually, like that whole Imma-be-a-jerk thing you've been doin' lately is so—mhmm mmm hhmmm—" her sentence was cut short by an extended tendril of skin wrapping around her lower face, courtesy of Angelo.
"I don't think now's the best time, Jubes," he said.
"Thank goodness for your teammate's sensibility. Now, if no one else has outlandish outbursts, I expect all of you to get to your rooms immediately. There has been enough excitement for the night. As for you, Monet. You can stop by my office tomorrow after school." Without even a goodnight, Emma strode away from her students and disappeared around the corner.
Emma had barely turned the corner, when Everett turned to Monet. "This probably isn't the best time, but are you okay? You've never been like that before."
"Nothing. Nothing at all," Monet glared after Emma.
"Look, I know there's always been this tension between you and Emma, but you can't just—"
"I'm well aware of my boundaries and tensions with Emma, Everett. Your concern is commendable but misplaced. I'll deal with it on my own."
Finally free from Angelo's silencing maneuver, Jubilee said, "Well, like, I'm more concerned about Clarice. I can't believe she's like alive. I mean, after all this time. Where was she? What happened? And like, what has she been through that changed her so much? I wonder if ol' Frosty's gonna let her stay at tha school?"
"Or if Clarice even wants to stay," Everett added.
Monet, still noticeably angry, responded, "Considering the circumstance of our abduction and the lack of any mention of parents, I do not believe Clarice has any other place of residence to call home. In addition, Cerebra has no home information or location registered for her."
"Pssshhhhtt. Like how do you know?" Jubilee pointedly asked.
"I researched the database earlier this evening."
Everett smiled. "So you were concerned about Clarice?"
"I only wanted increase my familiarity with the girl's circumstance."
"Well, I guess that makes sense, considering you really hadn't met her before."
"I will not elaborate on the situation involving my sisters' merger into my likeness, but I will say once again that there is precious little I don't know. I'm well-aware of much more than any of you probably will ever realize." Though there was boundless truth in what Monet said, she would never admit that there were things that were beyond her scope of knowledge. Just as the return of Clarice genuinely surprised her, so would the looming reappearance of her brother.
"Oh no! Like here we go again with tha Miz Perfect act," Jubilee rolled her eyes.
Everett let out an exaggerated yawn, hoping to derail the brewing argument. "Maybe we should all head to bed, like Emma said."
"I'm with you, amigo," Angelo agreed.
Despite all of the activity of the night, soon thereafter, all of the students and faculty at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters were sleep. Many things had happened up to this point that had changed the foundation of the school, but little did any of them know that the worst was still to come.
Notes:
Generation X and all characters related to Marvel belong to them. Any other characters are fictional