X X X X X
Scott returned to Xavier's quarters with two lifebelts, a third he had already donned himself. Jean put on hers numbly. She had turned her emotions off to help strengthen her mental shields. Her mind and heart were cold to what was going on around them, otherwise she would surely drown when the panic gripping the ship's inhabitants grew.
The Professor simply stared at the white floatation device and handed it back to Scott. "Professor?" he inquired, refusing to take it back.
"Give it to someone else," he replied with a tinge of sadness. "I think we all know that there is no way I am getting off this ship."
A crack opened in Jean's emotional defenses and her eyes started to shed tears. "But... Professor, we need you!" she cried out, unbelieving that the man who was like a father to her and mentor was going to just give up so easily.
Xavier got to his feet and waddled over to Jean, taking a seat once again, beside her. "Jean... Scott... You two were my first students, and I am grateful to have taught you both. I wish things were different, but they aren't." He ran a comforting hand down her back and gave her a tender smile. "I will always be with you. You both can do fine without me, and you will."
They both jumped as Scott banged his fist against the wall in frustration, resting his head against it afterwards. "It's not fair... You can still do so much--"
"I will not take the place of a woman or a child on one of those boats," he declared sternly, forcing them to drop the issue. He gave Jean a hug and she kissed him on his bald head. "I shall miss you both."
"I understand, Charles..." The redhead told him once she had gotten a hold of her emotions again. It was very rare that she ever called him by his first name. Only during extremely emotional and distressing times, or when they were having one of their heart to heart talks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Scott taking off his glasses, his eyes squeezed painfully shut as he wiped them and his glasses. Xavier rose to his feet once more, using his crutch to navigate to the one he thought of as a son.
"Scott..." he said softly, checking to make sure Jean wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation. What he wanted to tell the boy was something he didn't want anyone else to hear. "I want you to promise me, Scott, that no matter what happens... You will get off this ship. They are going to look to you and Jean now, and you must get off the ship if our dreams are to survive."
"But..." he started, exasperated. "But, there's no possible way I could--"
"I'm certain you will find one," Xavier interrupted, not wanting him to think for even a moment that it was hopeless. "There's bound to be more than a few ways other than bribing or forcing that a man can get off.
"Profess--" he sighed, "Charles... You only begun training me in taking over the school this year. I'm not ready. I can't do it without you."
"You have been ready for years, Scott. With your great leadership, and the letters I left in one of my desk drawer, you will succeed. The letters are words of good-bye and wisdom for each of you that I have known long enough to write them for." Despite his exterior calm, his heart and voice were breaking at knowing those were the last words they would know him by. So much he had to leave unsaid in those letters, because they simply would have been far too long. Each were many pages front and back in length as they were. "Promise me, Scott," he pleaded.
"I promise..."
It was obvious by then that the room had a slight tilt to it. Nothing major, but ever so slanted. Jean got up and both her and Scott hugged the old man tightly with Jean placing another kiss on his head. "Go on, find a way off. I shall be in the First Class Lounge, though I don't want to see you or the others there again." Although he tried to fight it, a single tear rolled down his cheek because the others would not get a chance to say good-bye to him, and there was no way he could use his powers to do it.
"We all love you, Charles," Jean whispered to him, not trusting her voice any louder. "We always will."
Charles watched with a breaking heart as his children left. He stared in silence at the empty room for a few minutes before making the long trek to the Lounge, where he knew an old friend was waiting for him.
Indeed, that old friend was sitting calmly at a table in the Lounge, smoking a cigarette and staring at a bottle of bourbon on the table. Xavier didn't fail to notice the two glasses sitting there with some of the liquid in it.
Xavier took the unspoken and unacknowledged invitation to sit across from the man and took a sip of the strong liqour.
Erik lifted his eyes to meet Charles' as the corners of his lips twitched upwards in a smile. "I knew you would seek me out."
"Might we just talk as if we were the friends we were once?" Charles asked, although he already knew the answer.
Erik Lensherr nodded his head, and the two became friends once again, at the end of both of their lives. Talking about everything and nothing at all as if the ship they were on was not sinking from under them.
X X X X X
Graydon Creed had called him to a meeting a while ago. Ever since he'd gotten to the man's quarters, he has done nothing but pace. Not even acknowledged his presence. But Henry Gyrich could be a patient man, and knew well how not to disturb Creed when he was pacing.
Gyrich sat comfortably in his chair, watching the man only a few years younger than him wear a trench in the carpet while he thought. About what, was the only thing keeping Gyrich himself occupied.
He combed his short brown hair back, though it just fell back to where it was before. His brown eyes peered behind a pair of glasses. Almost thirty, and already in lenses. It was a pain, but one he had to deal with. The one good thing going for him was that not only was he in incredible shape, he looked almost ten years younger than he really was. No one would believe he was older than Creed, even if they showed their birth certificates.
Gyrich was one of those guys that had done practically everything. He first started working in a small diner, then moved to a store clerk. After being robbed, he went into the police force, and from there he worked his way quickly to a U.S. Senator's personal assistant. Senator Kelly, to be exact.
That was going to be his career for life. Until Creed came along. With money and just a little bit of persuasion, Creed hired him away from Kelly to work for him. His investigative skills along with his police force training were something he was highly interested in and was willing to pay nearly double the amount Gyrich was making on a government salary.
"I have a plan I need your help carrying out," were the first words Graydon uttered to him. And even then they were far away, his mind still thinking it through. Gyrich had seen his employer this way before, it usual proceeded one of his madman rages. Something had pissed him off, royally.
"Say it, I'll do it," Henry declared as an assurance that he wasn't in any way, shape, or form going to back out now. Creed wasn't the most respectable of people, nor the most liked -- not by a long shot. He had many enemies, not all of them mutants. That was another area Gyrich came in to deal with.
"My fiancée... My own fiancée... How could I have been so blind? So trusting?" Creed rambled on, perhaps even forgetting that Henry was there.
"That freak of nature bitch will pay for making a fool out of me!"
Whoa... Henry hadn't even seen that one coming. Apparently, his little bride-to-be was a mutant. Not a good thing, for her at least. He tugged lightly at the stupid lifebelt he had to wear. Oh yeah, the ship's dilemma. Perhaps he should be paying more attention to that? However he had been assured that it was nothing serious, the engines were still dead. And until they started again, he would not be at ease.
"I want her dead. I don't truly care how, I just want the bitch dead! And her family too. They must have known the truth--" Graydon paused and his eyes went wide.
"What?" Henry asked, too damn curious to keep silent.
"They did know... The mother -- Irene... The night we met she had a breakdown, proclaiming that the ship was going to sink..." Their eyes locked as the unsaid words settled into their brains. Her family were mutants, and they had purposely done everything for a reason. Indeed, they all would pay.
Gyrich sat and listened intently as his employer's plan poured from his lips.
X X XX X
The crowd in the Grand Staircase was so thick, Marie was close to having a panic attack. Without gloves on it left her hands exposed, and knowing now what her skin could do, it was traumatizing for her to wait in a packed area. She was so thankful when some of the people left to go outside to the Boat Deck finally.
Logan had yet to return. She knew it would take a while for him to get her mother there and get her in one of the boats. But patient was not something someone could be given the circumstance.
At least she was being guarded on all sides by the women. Ororo, Jenn, and Amy had each formed a perimeter around her and were pushing away people who strayed too close.
The girls had started some form of a conversation, if just to keep their minds from wandering too far. They were trying to figure out how to get the men onto the boats.
"Well, I won't be on one," Ororo stated. "I'll use my powers so I don't take up a space."
Marie vaguely heard the goddess explain that her powers were that of controlling the weather. Someone she knew had spotted her in the crowd and was making his way near her. Someone with a tuff of perfect brown hair whom she didn't want to deal with, but knew she had to.
"Marie, at last!" Graydon said as he got up to them. "I have been searching everywhere for you."
The girls didn't let him near her, for which she was silently thankful. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "This is my fiancée, you can let me see her."
"I-it's alright..." she stammered out, knowing she had to get it over with sooner or later. And now was a better time, in front of a crowd.
Reluctantly, the girls move just to let Graydon near the girl with the poisonous skin. But none of them moved beyond arms reach of the man.
"Marie, my darling... We must get you to a boat." He tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled away quickly.
Something caught her eye just to the side of Graydon. Jenn was holding a pair of gloves, possibly snatched from someone else. Gratefully, Marie took them and put them on. "Are you cold, my dear?" Graydon asked with concern.
"A little..." Which was true.
"Come, let us get you a coat," he began to lead her away.
But what if Logan returned while she was gone? She couldn't go. "No, no, that's alright..."
"I insist. I do not want my bride-to-be freezing out there. Come." Well, if she went, then the girls would still be there to tell Logan. And it would be freezing out there without a proper coat. Plus, maybe she would meet up with Logan in her quarters.
As soon as the two went down the staircase and walked into the corridor that would lead to Marie's room, something very hard was pressed into the small of her back. And Graydon's grip on her arm tightened immensely.
She gasped at his force, confused for the third time that night. A new personal record.
"Do you think I didn't see that little show you put on right outside my door?" he whispered harshly into her ear, everything about him had changed. Just like everything had changed when she met what she thought was Logan down in the Scotland Road. Only this couldn't be the shapeshifter, he didn't have the scratches on his cheek.
Logan's memories served her purpose once again. Graydon Creed despised as deeply as a person could people like her. Mutants. He must have seen the claws. And the knowledge that he had been destined to marry a mutant had sent him over the edge.
"Graydon, what are you doing?" she demanded.
"Simple. I'm going to make sure you, and those others I saw, don't make it off the ship. Especially that little skank you seem to have become so fond of."
Marie gasped again. "How did you--"
The demented man cut her off with a chuckle. "I have my sources."
She silently cursed herself for not defending his honor. Though the Logan in her head didn't care what the pansy called him, he just wanted to rip the guy to shreds for what he was doing to Marie.
"Come now, my dear," he said sarcastically. No more kindness showed in his voice, only complete and utter hatred. "I know just where to go."
X X X X X
God, it was cold. And things were taking too damn long. But with the ship slightly tilted, Marie's mother stumbled far more frequently and made things move even slower. The two girls and one guy servants were bustling about, getting things prepared and getting Irene ready.
When Logan had gotten to Marie's room, he was greatly disappointed that her 'father' wasn't there. He had been hoping to gut the bastard. One of the girls, Kitty, if he remembered correctly, had grabbed a coat that was certainly Marie's. That was good, she would definitely need it.
The servants were so nervous, their powers were going out of control. Kitty phased through a chair when she bent to pick something up, Jubilee had fried more than one thing in the room. And St. John was absentmindedly playing with his lighter. Well, at least he kinda knew what they could do now.
"Let's go," he ordered gruffly once Irene Alder was ready to go out to the Boat Deck. He linked an arm with her to help steady her when she lost her footing. Being blind and on a sinking ship had to be hard for her, mutant or no.
The girls followed closely behind, the boy staying behind. Logan didn't like that one bit and growled at the kid to join them.
"No, I have to wait for Mr. Darkholme to return," he said with a faint Australian accent.
"Kid, I doubt he's gonna return to his room. Now get your ass behind us."
The young boy hesitated, not sure whether to test the growly man or to disobey his employer. Given the circumstances, there was a good chance Logan was right, and Darkholme wouldn't be returning, instead waiting for them to take Irene and Marie into the lifeboats.
Logan only continued once again when the boy -- St. John, he was called -- fell into step behind them. He got them to the Grand Staircase as quickly as he could, highly debating if he should just carry Irene, it would get them there faster.
The beauty of the place escaped him for once, crowded with people as if they were simply heading for dinner. Had it not been for the lifebelts, Logan would have thought he'd gone back in time. People were chatting away as if nothing was happening.
However, a certain group of people caught his attention. And the look on their faces meant that something had happened. Ororo volunteered to tell Logan, since she was the most logical choice next to Jenn, but she refused to be the one. For once in her life, both Jenn and Ororo were afraid to deal with Logan.
After looking around the room, he immediately knew what it was about. Marie wasn't there.
Maybe God had cut him a fucking break for a little while when he saw her swimming naked in the pool, but he was making up for it tenfold.
"Graydon Creed came and took her away. She said that she would be alright, but Amy followed. He knows she's a mutant and is going to kill her," the whether goddess whispered to Logan, so not to upset Irene or the servants.
"What the fuck are you all doing here standing around," he growled back, his temper rising. To protect the woman's delicate arm that he was holding, he let go of it.
"Amy and Remy followed. We can take Mrs. Darkholme and the servants to the Boat Deck."
He trusted Raptor -- a nickname Amy had earned for her ferocity and swiftness in a fight, must to his body's pained remembrance -- to not let Marie come to harm. And since the Cajun had managed to help blow Victor off the ship, he wasn't that bad either.
Using his sense of smell, he blocked out all of them except for Marie. Her scent still lingered heavily in the air despite the other people. His animalistic nature wanted to unleash itself, to go berserk until he found his mate again. But that wouldn't help her at all. Using that scent as a guideline, he began to track her throughout the ship.
X X XX X
It was downright freezing outside. The moon provided no light to see by, making the ocean look like vast emptiness surrounded them. A dark obvlivion to which a lifeboat was being lowered into. Nothing but the stars shown up in the sky.
For Marie's bidding, Bobby and Scott carefully helped Irene Adler Darkholme into one of those boats. Followed closely by two of her servents. St. John passed for young enough to still be determined a child, although Bobby bet he wasn't any younger than himself. The Asian one had decided she needed to go back for something and would catch another boat.
With the way the crewmembers were acting about the two men helping the blind woman on board, Scott didn't want to press his luck by asking if he could board as well with this group. Jean was not going to be happy with him deserting her, but it was what had to be done.
Scott turned to his wife of three years. It nearly killed him to see her in such a state. Her cheeks were wet with silent tears, her eyes dull to the world around her. A crisis situation was hard enough for a regular person, who had to listen to the other people involved. But it must have been hell for a telepath, he could also feel them. Feel their true emotions as they projected them without a care. It was a wonder why she hadn't lost it already, her shields weren't nearly as good as Xavier's---
No, he couldn't go there. Couldn't think about that. He was their leader, their new father figure now. He had to set an example and be the strong one. Although for appearances, Ororo seemed to be holding it together even better than he was. If he didn't make it, then she could defintely help to take over. It would not die with him.
"Jean, I--" She looked at him, more tears falling at knowing that this might mean good-bye. The cheery tune the band was playing made everyting seem wrong. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to show her. It was so unfair how life could cheat you out of your promise to grow old with someone. To spend your last days just basking in their love. But sometimes it cut that horribly short, and didn't allow you time at all. He supposed he should be thankful he did have some. "I love you, Jean... No matter what happens, I will always love you..."
He sealed those words with a passionate kiss, and let all of his feelings of love flow out of him and towards her, so she would feel them even through her shields. Such a connection between them made him proud. "No matter what, I will always love you too, Scott..." she whispered in response, not trusting her voice any louder.
Jean refused to cry when the officer pulled her away from her husband, the man she should have spent her whole life with. She refused to cry when they placed her in the lifeboat, seperating her forever. Her heart broke inside, but she didn't let it show. She had to be strong for Scott, he needed her strength now. She could let it go once they were away, when he couldn't see her, couldn't hear her. And maybe he wouldn't be able to feel her that way.
His gaze behind his red glasses, though impossible to see, she knew never left her face as other women and children were loaded onto the boat with her.
X X XX X
Marie had never been so cold and frightened in her life. Her body was trembling uncontrolably. Graydon had brought her to the indoor pool down below. Brought her and tied her there before leaving with an evil grin. He had told her how he wanted to watch her die, but he felt it better to safe his own measily hide instead. Okay, so not exactly in those words, but that was pretty much the jist of it.
Water had already seeped through to ankle deep at least, there were traces of it when Graydon had brought her, and not all of it was from the pool. It was slow rising, so maybe that was a good sign. But if her schooling had taught her right, the more water the ship took, the faster it would take it. Marie couldn't budge from the chair she was tied to, and her feet had gone numb from the cold water. Graydon had done a good job, no matter how much she tried, the rope held tightly. And the gag in her mouth was almost choking her.
Within a few minutes of just waiting there, the water had risen to her knees. Things were looking very bad.
It was when she heard voices that her hopes began to rise with the water.
"Shit! I hate the cold! I hate the cold!" a female shouted.
"We both be southerners, why we gotta deal with 'dis?" A man's voice whom she recognized as Remy's replied.
Renewed with hope, Marie began yelling through the rag. Muffled sounds were all that came out, but she made them be as loud as she could get them. Her legs were numb and her wrists were rubbed raw against the bounds.
A moment later, the door opened and the couple waded into the room. "Hey, Marie," Amy greeted her with teeth chattering. "Couldn't you have gotten yourself tied up in a more dry climate?"
If she had been able, Marie would have responded to that with actual words other than an annoyed grunt through the gag. Remy chuckled some as he used a knife to cut her loose. "I'm thrilled you find my situation hilarious, Mr. LeBeau," she spat out once the gag was removed.
Remy started to laugh even louder until someone else burst through the door. "Marie!"
Oh, God, it was Logan. Alright, no more getting kidnapped, split up, or seperated in any way. Marie was going to permenately attatch herself to that man and never let go. Unable to trust her legs without feeling them, she allowed her love to come to her and sweep her off her feet. His mouth moved to interviene with hers, but stopped short when a man cleared his throat in the doorway.
Damn... he had just remembered her skin because of that. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to gut the man standing in the doorway holding a gun at them.
A man none of them had seen before stood in the doorway, grinning. "How touching a reunion. Pity I'm going to end it."
"What makes you say that?"
Every intent and purpose to catch the man off his guard and scare the hell out of him with that remark, worked like a charm. Before he had been so calm and sure of himself, now he was nervous. Logan could sense it. No man said those words with such passion unless they meant it.
But quickly, the man grip tightened on the gun, his confience returning. "I'm sorry, I forgot you must have a lower I.Q. Because I'm the one holding the gun."
"Who the fuck are you?"
"What does it matter? Oh, what the hell. Henry Gyrich."
Gyrich may have been a bit cocky, but Logan could tell he wasn't stupid. Every time someone even blinked, his eyes shot to that person. He was dealing with mutants whose powers he didn't know. As much as Logan wanted to intimidate the man further, they didn't have the time. Water was up to Amy's waist, and was rising more quickly.
"Perhaps you don' know me, homme. But dis Cajun is just a server at de Café," Remy said as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
"Then why are you down here?"
Remy shrugged. "Boredom? Or, could be dat dis Cajun also be known as Gambit. An' don' take too kindly to people like you." Before Gyrich could even blink, much less react to Remy's words, he flung his hand back and threw an object at him.
With a scream of pain, Gyrich's hand was pinned to the bulkhead by a dagger, the gun dropped into the water with a loud splash. Remy grinned triumphantely. "Who said a mutant needs t' use his powers t' do harm?"
They all at least breathed with cold relief as Logan went over and elbowed the stunned man in the face, knocking him out. His body slump down, only kept above the water by the hand pinned to the bulkhead. A fine stream of blood ran down it, turning the water nearby red.
His heightened senses picked up the groaning of the ship, and he knew they had to get out fast. "I think it's time for us to bail," Amy said aloud, echoing his own thoughts.
The two couples each ignored how frozen they were in order to wade through the cold water to the nearest stairs. Rushing water not only explained why it was rising so much faster now, but it also cut off their exit route.