Not So Different: I've been compared to her for most of my life, and I'm tired of it. Now, she's dead and I'm here, practically taking her place amongst old friends. But, now I'm left wondering what was so different about us after all.

Disclaimer: I do not claim nor hope to have any ownership over the X-Men or any other hereto mentioned Marvel characters. I do, however, have claim over Mackenzie Benton, Aubrey Howell, Bernadette Benton, and any other original characters found within this work of fanfiction. Don't bother suing me – I'm poor and you couldn't squeeze anything out of me if you tried.

Rating: This story is rated T for language, pathos, and brief nudity and sexual content.

"Age wrinkles the body. Quitting wrinkles the soul." — Douglas MacArthur

-Chapter Thirty-Five-

"Eleven weeks," she muttered, shifting on the bed slightly. "I'd lost count before they tossed you in here."

It wasn't a very comforting thought, and I pledged to never lose count of how many days I spent in captivity. Weak and lethargic, I rolled over onto my side and stared blankly at the door, willing it to open and for the X-Men to swoop in and save the day. Nothing happened.

"Maybe they forgot about us."

I shook my head sleepily, blinking so that I wouldn't fall asleep. "No, they haven't forgotten about us. It's a ploy, Jean. It's a ploy to weaken us so that we feel indebted to them when they finally decide to feed us. They're trying to get us to form a bond with our captors."

"Stockholm Syndrome," she replied airily.

She lay facing me, her back against the wall. It should have been uncomfortable and intrusive for her to shift so that she could lay her head on top of mine, but I didn't have the strength to complain. In fact, I didn't have the strength to do much of anything.

"How many days?"

"Five without food, two without water," she whispered, her voice croaky. "The hard dinner rolls we had stashed are gone, and the faucet's not running anymore."

I closed my eyes and sighed, nearly giving in to my body's urge to sleep, to hibernate. I knew, from a medical standpoint, that we were severely malnourished and dehydrated, and that if we didn't get fluids in us soon that our bodies would go into shock and, eventually, shut down.

"He's teasing us, pushing us. He's going to push us until the breaking point, and then he's going to reel us back in, pamper us." I wasn't one hundred percent positive, but I had a fairly good inkling that he'd do as I suspected. He didn't want us dead, which meant that, assuming we weren't the last people on earth, we'd be taken out soon. "I'll take this watch."

She didn't even bother to respond as her breathing evened out, signifying that she'd almost instantly nodded off. In order to keep myself awake, I stared at the door, going over medical terms in my head.

Xerophthalmia, I thought to myself, blinking tiredly. Dry eyes - Greek in origin - when the eyes fail to produce tears. Can be caused by a lack of Vitamin A, which can be a symptom of a Malnourished patient.

Laryngospasm, I blinked, licking my dry and chapped lips. An involuntary spasm of the laryngeal cords. Typically characterized by Stridor.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them again, the door was opening.

Jean! I practically shouted through our rapport, causing her to literally jump. Get ready and stay calm. Remember, whoever remains here must shield themselves until the power is out.

Okay, she responded, stiffening against me as five armed men poured into the room.

Two ambled forward, one with his M16 at the ready, and simply glared at us. While one pointed his gun at us, the other reached over me and grabbed Jean by her elbow. She, to her credit, merely released a sharp gasp as she was dragged over me and off of the bed and onto her unstable feet. She swayed and sagged between the two of them as they dragged her toward the door.

I had to fight down the urge to try to help, knowing that I was too weak and my powers were too restrained to do anything more than cause us both more harm. Closing my eyes, I settled against the bed and tried to look as though I was sleeping. But, in reality, I'd slipped onto the astral plane.

I'm here with you, Jean, I assured her as I prepared myself, the mental link between us strengthening a hundred-fold. I saw through her eyes, felt everything she felt; I had her senses.

We were led through a maze of corridors, our feet dragging. The soldiers yelled at us whenever we slowed down too much but, to our surprise, they refrained from physically harming us.

"Ah, Dr. Grey," a familiar voice purred, causing our skin to prickle in terror.

We were escorted into one of the laboratories, the very same one that we'd spent countless hours already. A table was already prepared and despite our feeble attempts to break free of their grasp, we were thrown atop it and strapped down.

His pale face came into view and we stared up into the dark abyss that was his gaze, struggling to keep our breathing as regulated as possible. "I have to say, my darling, these short locks are certainly unbecoming."

When he runs his eerily cold fingers through our short locks, we shudder. We strain against the straps that bind us, knowing that it is pointless. The overhead lights are bright and reveal the high tech room in all of its horror and glory, highlighting the strange computers in one corner and the large portion of the wall that is covered by a dry-erase board; the board displayed several horrifying images of the human body, different drawings of the brain and what appeared to be chemical formulas.

"Fuck you," we managed, gasping as he brought his cold hands down around our throat. We stared up at him in terror, gasping for breath as his fingers tightened ever so slightly. "And the horse you rode in on," we added, groaning as his fingers tightened a bit more, enough to simply warn us that he was capable of so much more.

"Such language is quite unbecoming of a lady, don't you think?" He clucked his tongue as he slowly retracted his hand and bustled around the lab, leaving us to glance around hurriedly. We couldn't see much other than the closed door and the fact that we were alone with him for the moment. "I'm sure you and Dr. Benton have both noticed that food and water have been, how should I say - cut off for the moment."

He whistled a jaunty tune as he ambled around the lab, swinging on a white lab coat over his dark gray turtleneck and his black slacks. Had it not been for his terribly inhuman features, he might have looked almost normal in the casual clothing.

"You see, my investigations are going quite well. I am pleased to announce that I've managed to splice bits of your DNA, along with Dr. Benton's, to my own. My telepathy has strengthened slightly and my telekinesis has improved. I'm hoping to use the same process with other samples I've acquired over the years." He walked over with a clipboard in his hands and scribbled on it, face blank. "In approximately five years, I'll be able to use this same process in order to alter the genes of a human being at the embryo stage. Imagine it, dearest: genetically engineered mutants."

We groaned as he used his TK to level a tray filled with tools to the side of us, so that we could see them glinting under the bright florescent lighting. There were scalpels and saws and small knives with jagged teeth.

It was a torture tray.

Wait for it, I warned her, pulling back slightly so that I was watching over her instead. After I'd pulled back, I ensured that the cell I occupied was empty to ensure that our plan would work. Keep calm, Jean. You can do this.

I'm so tired, she admitted and I watched, wincing as Sinister lifted a scalpel. Shields are failing.

Without prompting, I reached in gently through the rapport, strengthening her shields myself. It was taxing, but well worth the effort when Sinister's face remained blank and calm. I knew that his telepathy was nowhere on the level of Xavier's but was, perhaps, more on the level with Emma's - between my level and Jean's, in essence. He wasn't overly powerful, but if we weren't careful he could discover our plans and ruin them. After all, while Jean's powers weren't as limited outside of the cell, they were still nowhere on the level of Essex's.

When?

I watched as he lowered the scalpel to her neck, his eyes dark and bottomless. Though I did not know what he intended to do, I knew it would be painful. He'd administered no narcotics - which meant that she, and therefore I, would feel every bit of pain.

Now!

She formed the psi bolt and I fed her the power necessary to deliver it. His face paled dramatically as the lights flickered and I smiled inwardly as he stumbled backwards, the scalpel falling from his hands.

More! I demanded, feeding her more energy as she lashed out with her TK, sending the tray and even Essex flying across the room. The lights flickered again, dimming dramatically, and her energy level dimmed. I pushed harder and watched, elated as Sinister came back into view, face a mask of confusion.

He knows. He knows!

Hit him hard! I hissed, growling mentally in satisfaction as she lashed out with a psi bolt that seemed to sizzle in the air. It struck him and his eyes fluttered closed instantly as he slumped forward, falling across her legs. The next moment, the lights flickered out, leaving the room completely dark.

I pulled back from the mental rapport enough so that I could only sense her in the back of my head. Call for the Professor, I urged her as I slid off of the bed boneless. The room was completely dark, but I knew it like the back of my head. Gathering my small reserves of strength, I stumbled toward the door, jaw set and muscles tensed.

My head throbbed as I lashed out with my TK, hitting the door with such a great force that it dented in the center. I wobbled to the side slightly as I hit it again, creating a hole dead center large enough to fit several people at once. Although I heard shouting and gunfire, I climbed through it slowly, throwing up a hand and creating a telekinetic shield around myself that caused the bullets to ricochet - leaving my enemies diving for cover.

He's coming to, Jean warned, sounding exhausted. He's fighting me.

The back-up generator must have kicked on, as emergency lights flickered on, illuminating the halls well enough for me to navigate. Armed men pounced at me around every turn, but I batted them away uselessly. I cut myself off from the rest of the world, focusing only on Jean and myself, as I cut a path through the corridors to where she was held. It took no more than two minutes but, along the way, I knew I'd taken the lives of dozens by simple carelessness alone.

Shield yourself, I warned as I approached the closed double doors that were labeled as a laboratory. I threw my hands forward, groaning as my TK ripped through the doors and tore away bits of concrete and metal, leaving nothing but a gaping hole where wall and door had once been. Dust settled in the air as I stalked forward, the thin ballet flats doing little to protect my feet from the plaster and other bits of debris. I'm coming.

Hurry, she urged me as I struggled to see through the dusty haze that the destruction had caused.

I spied Sinister's prone form immediately and wasted no time in lifting him off of Jean's body and throwing him across the room. The doctor in me was ashamed that I had no care left in me for him, as his head slammed into the wall and he did not move. I could have taken the time to check his pulse, to ensure that he was alive - but I did not care.

"Jean!"

She was sobbing, dry and tearless sobs that racked her body as I hurried forward, stumbling over an overturned chair. Although she was covered in dust, she appeared uninjured, and I hastily tore the straps away and pulled her into a sitting position. Her eyes were bloodshot and full of pain, but she managed to slide off of the table onto her feet.

The overhead lighting was still dim and my powers were nearly at full, though severely weakened, still, by lack of energy. I knew we had to escape quickly, or they'd manage to get their hands on us.

Weakly, I slid my arm around her, looping hers around my shoulder so that I could bear some of her weight. We hobbled out of the room together and made it all of twenty feet before a group of ten to twelve armed men stopped us, M16s raised at the ready.

"Stop!"

Frustrated and annoyed, I grunted and shoved my right hand forward, sweeping the lot of them off of their feet and halfway down the hall. When we reached a T in the hallway, I realized that I had no idea how we were going to get out.

We're going to have to make our own exit, I told her through the rapport. After this, we're home free. It was a promise, one I wasn't sure I would be able to actually keep.

She lent me some of her energy and I focused, grunting as I thrust forth mentally with my TK, slamming against the wall and creating a gaping hole that tore through the eight foot thick wall and led outside. Hot and humid air filtered in immediately, shocking me even more than the bright sunlight.

We staggered outside together, stunned by the feel of the warm sunlight. The alarms were raised and we heard the sirens echoing across the land, but we paid them no mind. My shield protected us from the slew of gunfire and we continued onward, wandering across the obvious military base in confusion.

The building we'd exited looked partially abandoned from the outside, which was rather surprising considering how well-kept and busy it had seemed on the inside. Vehicles carrying confused soldiers whirled past us and I slapped them away like insects, annoyed at the thought of having to fight our way out.

No more than twenty minutes had passed since she had exited the cell and the whole charade had began. And yet, it felt as though hours had passed as we made our way across the base. Though there was no real challenge, I found myself pausing at the large barbed wire fence that was clearly meant to keep unwanted persons out and the US military in.

Tear it down, she murmured through the rapport, leaning heavily against me. Tear the son of a bitch down.

Without further prompting, I hissed and tore straight through the fence. The force was enough to make the ground tremble and caused a whole section of the heavy fence to lean forward, close to complete collapse.

Hummers trailed after us and gunfire continued before, rather abruptly, it stopped. We were in the desert, somewhere, and the air was hot and humid and the sand and dirt was hot beneath the thin shoes that adorned my feet. Other than the large and domineering base, I saw nothing on the horizon.

We stumbled forward another hundred yards before my knees knocked together and I fell forward onto the hard unforgiving sand. It was too hard to believe, too hard to really conceive, that we were somehow free.

And then, as Jean fell forward beside me, a warm and familiar touch brushed against my mind.

Mackenzie.

I smiled as the air around us grew choppy; cacti swayed and bits of sand and rocks flew through the air haphazardly due to the current created by the high-tech Blackbird that was lowered inch by inch toward the ground.

We were saved.