Firstly, I just want to say this: thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you to all the people who have sent us reviews! It's your words of encouragement that have fueled our determination to finish this story! It means a lot to know that people are enjoying it and want to see it through to the end.
That having been said, you people deserve one heckle of a good explanation for such a late chapter. As you know, I'm co-writing this story with Tal. He has been out of town since January, undergoing his training as an Officer for the Canadian Army. He managed to get leave and come home for a weekend, during which time we managed to get this last chapter put together.
I HOPE it was well worth the wait!
And some more relevant information: as far as I know, Hank left the Avengers at about the same time Tigra joined them, so I don't know if the two ever actually met, but it's obvious they never actually worked together on the team. And I know that Tigra quit the Avengers, but still remains on a sort of on-call basis. We've twisted the history around to make it fit in this story (just because Tal just HAD to get Tigra into it. Yeesh. And I thought I was the only one obsessed with striped characters.)
TO RECAPITULATE: Once upon a time, Hank met a young mutant named Tyger. They fell in love, even though that road had many bumps and potholes (Hank still has the marks to prove it). She became pregnant with twins, but during one fateful night, the X-Men were overcome by some unknown force and one of the unborn babies was stolen. All the evidence pointed to Hank as the only plausible culprit. The last chapter ended with Hank making a phone call to Tigra, asking her for a favour. And so, this chapter begins. Enjoy!
## - represents thoughts
** - represents telepathic speech
CHAPTER 23: The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions
* * *
I thought I saw a man brought to life.
He was warm;
he came around like he was dignified.
He showed me what it was to cry.
Well you couldn't be that man I adored.
You don't seem to know,
seem to care what your heart is for.
But I don't know him anymore.
There's nothing where he used to lie;
my conversation has run dry.
That's what's going on.
Nothing's fine I'm torn.
I'm all out of faith,
this is how I feel.
I'm cold and I'm ashamed,
lying naked on the floor.
Illusion never changed
into something real.
I'm wide awake and I can see
the perfect sky is torn.
You're a little late;
I'm already torn
Natalie Imbruglia
* * *
It was early in the afternoon on the following day. Tyger wrenched another shirt off a coat hanger and threw it at the open suitcase on the bed. Her tail twitched angrily back and forth as she stalked over to the suitcase and tried to close it. It would not obey. Tears stinging her eyes, she flung it open again and tried to stuff the clothing further into it. When it refused to close a second time, she grabbed it up and in a fit of rage hurled it across the room where it smacked into the far wall with a loud thud. As various items of clothing fell to the floor, Tyger sank down heavily onto the bed, buried her face in her hands and started to bawl.
How could he do this to her? How could he?! He had to hate her. He just had to! She had lossed his baby. He was mad at her for that. She didn't want to be intimate with him; so he couldn't stand to have her around anymore.
Tyger could fathom no other explanation as to why Hank would make her leave. And she had to make up her own explanations; Hank refused to give her any satisfactory reasons. He had told her that morning that he was sending her away. He had tried to explain it, of course. THAT conversation had not gone well in the least. And curse her empathy, but she knew he was hiding something from her, something important. But what, she didn't know.
Having exhausted that particular round of tears, Tyger took a deep breath, then another. Then she hauled herself up off the bed and began to pick up the clothes in the hopes of completing the task of packing before the next wave of sobs hit her.
* * *
Jean set the Cerebro helm back in its resting spot, then sighed heavily as she rubbed her aching temples. Why can't I find anything? she wondered, feeling very tired and extremely frustrated. All this time spent looking, searching for any trace of the missing infant and the ones that had stolen it, had brought up nothing. Nothing at all. Not even Logan had been successful.
Her mind briefly entertained the notion that Hank was correct, that he had done it, but she shook it off. It was impossible. She had scanned his mind and it had shown nothing that could prove that he had done what he claimed he did.
Jean reached her mind out to Tyger, just to check up on her. The woman's deep depression was to be expected, but it was still disconcerting. Jean winced in pain. Tyger was raging...no...crying...no - it was all a muddle. She dug and sifted through the thoughts, looking for the reason for the emotional turmoil.
#Hank is sending her away?!!#
Jean had to talk to him. Now.
* * *
Jean found Hank in his lab, attacking a bottle of aspirin.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
He jumped then turned to face her, a little miffed at having been startled by the intrusion. "Well Jean, I THOUGHT I was merely taking some aspirin for my aching head, but humour me: what DO I think I am doing?"
"You're sending Tyger away! Why?!"
Jean had unfortunately caught him in a bad mood, and he let it show. "I was under the pretence that telepaths residing at the mansion are prohibited from reading other's thoughts without authorization. You know, ethics and all," he snapped.
"That doesn't count in matters like this! How can you do this to her? She NEEDS you!"
Hank winced as if he'd just been slapped across the face. "And I suppose that is why she does not want me anywhere near her? Why she cringes when I touch her? She does not even want to be in the same room as me, Jean." His voice sounded angry; pained.
"That's the depression! She's been traumatized by the loss, AND she's afraid of losing the other baby! But she needs you to be there for her when she starts getting over it! She needs to know that you WILL be there for her!" Jean insisted.
His voice softened a bit. "What she NEEDS, Jean, is safety." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "And that is something that I have failed to provide for her."
"Don't be an idiot!" she snapped. "It wasn't your fault! IF you DID have a schizophrenic episode, I'D have seen it!"
Hank's jaw tightened. "If it WAS a pure psychotic schizophrenic split, Jean, the two personalities could in fact be perfectly hidden from each other. Or," he mused, "at least Jekyl cannot find Hyde."
"That's stupid, ridiculous, impossible, and YOU know it, Hank!" she retorted. "I am amongst the top telepaths on the planet, and if I can't find your 'Mr. Hyde', he ISN'T there!" she stated, unable to mask her pride.
Hank responded with a quiet, serious voice, "Are you willing to bet Tyger's life on that?"
Jean hesitated for a mere moment, then said with confidence, "Yes, I am."
Hank shook his head. "You hesitated, Jean. You thought about it. That is more than enough to make me unwilling to take the chance."
"But you haven't even told her WHY you're sending her away! She's hurt, confused, angry, and thinks you don't care for her!"
Hank turned his back to her. "And WHAT exactly am I supposed to say to her? Am I supposed to look her in the eye and simply say yes dear, I love you so much that it would appear I drugged you, ripped our child from your womb, hid it somewhere, then beat myself up for the sheer pleasure of it. Have a nice day."
He sighed long and deeply.
"No, Jean. I have thought about this over and over again. If she hates me for this, for sending her away, I'd rather she hated me for the all wrong reasons than all the right ones."
Jean grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. Hank tried to resist, but found that it was futile.
#Damn telekinesis.#
She then place her free hand on his other shoulder and shook him so violently that his teeth clacked together with the force.
"I'm going to tell you this ONE more time, Hank," she growled. "You...[SHAKE]...did...[SHAKE]...not...[SHAKE]...do this!!!"
She then released him, and he promptly fell on his butt.
I do believe the woman is quite perturbed, he thought to himself, then patiently waited for his stomach to settle and for the furniture to stop spinning around the room.
Hank, still slightly green, looked up at Jean and stated simply but firmly, "She's going. And wherever she is going, it will be safer than here."
At this point, Jean was ready to strangle him. Hank cringed slightly at the cold brush of phantom fingers against his throat.
"But you've already admitted that you don't know where she's going!" Jean exclaimed, utterly exasperated. "How do you know it's safe?"
Hank got back onto his feet, and looked at her wearily. "It is safe BECAUSE I don't know," he replied. "If you are wrong, then not knowing means that I cannot find any way to harm her. If you are right, then not knowing means that I cannot reveal her location to anyone, either accidently or deliberately."
Jean had heard enough. She promptly spun on her heel and stomped toward the doorway. As she left, Hank heard her voice, loudly and clearly, in his head. "You're doing the wrong thing." It was punctuated by the slamming of the door.
Hank stood there staring at the closed door for several minutes before finally saying to himself, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions; but these intentions are necessary."
* * *
Jean went to the kitchen, and made herself a BIG cup of cocoa. She had just taken her first sip when Jubilee walked in. The look on the girl's face alone was enough to make Jean want to groan. She wasn't sure she had the patience to deal with Jubilee right now.
"Jean?" she asked, her voice pleading. "Ever since the break-in and Tyger losing her baby, everyone's been acting really wierded out and now Tyger's packing and I know she had an argument with Hank but that's not enough to make her wanna move out, is it? AND when I tried to ask her about it, she just curled up on the bed and cried and didn't say a thing so I left and I asked Ro and Rogue and anyone else I could find but they didn't know anything about it either so PLEASE can't you tell me what the heck is going on?!!"
Jean absentmindedly marvelled at Jubilee's lung capacity as she tried to work out what would be the best explanation for her. The only ones at the mansion who knew that Tyger's child had actually been stolen were herself, Hank, Logan and Scott. The rest had been told that she had lossed the baby naturally.
"Jubilee, the break-in has shown that the mansion is insecure and thus unsafe for Tyger and her baby."
Jubilee gave her a strange look. "But Jean, of COURSE it's not safe here! The mansion's already been rebuilt, like, FIVE times?! If you wanted it to survive, you shoulda built another Fort Knox or something instead of a Victorian mansion!"
"Maybe you're right, but would you really want to live in a 'Fort Knox'?"
Jubilee paused a moment. "No, I guess not. It'd be rather dreary without any windows...wait a minute! What's this got to do with Tyger leaving?"
Jean sighed. "It's been decided that it's in the best interest of Tyger and her baby if she's moved someplace safer."
Jubilee blanched at Jean's confirmation that Tyger was in fact leaving.
"But where's she going? And she'll be comin' back, right?"
"I don't know."
Jubilee shot her an indignant look. "Whaddya mean you don't know?"
"I just don't," Jean replied, her voice calm but firm.
"You don't know, or you just don't wanna tell me?" Jubilee retorted, anger flashing in her eyes.
"Jubilee..."
"I've got a right to know! I'm her best friend!"
"I understand that, but this is a special situation."
They continued to banter for a while until Jubilee gave up and stormed out of the kitchen, complaining loudly about how adults never trusted to tell teenagers ANYthing important.
Jean had managed to get halfway through her mug of cocoa when Logan wandered in. He went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
"Our little pussycat's wanderin' off?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Yes," Jean replied with a monotone voice.
"The resident blue fathead's idea?"
"Yes."
"An' the reason is...?"
"He doesn't think she's safe, here."
"So? She could be on the Muir Space Station an' still wouldn't be safe. What's got his fur quiverin' this time?"
"He doesn't think we can protect her."
Logan snorted. "How much safer can she be than in a mansion full of X-Men? After all, WE'RE the good guys...at least, that's what my union's been tellin' me."
Jean made no reply.
"Let me guess," said Logan, a smug smile appearing on his face. "The big guy thinks HE did it."
Jean looked up in astonishment. She automatically reached out to pluck the answers from Logan's mind. He felt her probing, smiled wider, then strengthened his mental sheilds.
"No fair peekin', Jeannie," he said playfully.
Defeated, Jean retracted the probe.
Logan tapped his nose. "They might have kept me out of it during the entire thing, but they forgot ta do one very important thing - hide their scent. I could smell where they were and what they were doin'...almost."
"Then it was...?" Jean prodded. Logan knew she couldn't handle the suspense for very long.
"Yes and no," he replied. "It smelled like him, but it didn't. I can't explain it. So, if it wasn't Hank," he continued with a sarcastic smirk, "it musta been his evil twin brother. Seriously though, biologically it WAS Hank. But his scent was tainted with somethin' else. His sweat smelled differently."
Jean fell into deep thought, staring off at nothing. "Oh dear...a person's emotional state CAN affect their scent..."
"Yep, it can," Logan said matter-of-factly.
"So, if it WAS Hank, yet smelled differently..."
Logan nodded gravely. "Right. The blue guy's flipped his lid."
Jean sank back in her chair, giving out under the weight of what Logan had just said.
"Do you actually believe that?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Logan's serious expression melted away as he gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Not fer a second! There were TWO of 'em ta begin with, Jeannie. So if Hank WAS involved, and that's pretty much a given considerin' his scent was everywhere, then he must of been so full of drugs he didn't know WHAT he was doing. Hell, there are cocktails out there that could turn ME into a zombie - for a little while at least," he added with a smirk.
She looked up at him. "And the other?"
"Not a clue. Whoever it was left very few scent traces. They wore an environmental suit of some sort. It wasn't perfect, though." He tapped his nose. "I'd know 'em if I ever smelled 'em again."
Jean shook her head and asked solemnly, "You've told Hank this?"
"Fuck no!" he replied, looking incredulous. "He's feelin' so low right now he's practically waitin' fer someone ta start blamin' him! I sure as hell ain't gonna do it! Besides, he'll probably feel better once those drugs clear from his system."
Logan finished his beer in one gulp, crushed the can and tossed it into the trash, then left.
Jean stayed where she was, thinking furiously. It's all impossible! Completely impossible! she thought to herself. She had found no drugs in Hank's system following the assault, but Logan had just confirmed them. And if THAT'S true, she thought, her heart filling with dread, just what ELSE did I miss?
* * *
It was a cool night. The stars twinkled through the sparse covering of clouds as the Avenger's Quinjet made its way to Salem Centre. It was a short-winged, wide-bodied, bullet-shaped aircraft with a big 'A' on the tail. It was brought to rest in the hanger of the X-mansion where Jean, Scott, and most of the X-Men were assembled.
*Where is Hank?* Scott asked Jean.
*In his lab,* she replied.
*Well, tell him to come here right now, or he's going to miss saying goodbye.*
She paused. *He doesn't want to come.*
*What?!*
*He doesn't want to come,* she repeated.
*Then tell him I'm ordering him to do so!*
Jean shook her head, alerting some of the more attentive X-Men that a telepathic conversation was occurring. Gambit stared at them curiously, wishing he could hear what they were saying.
*He won't come, or you won't tell him?* Scott asked, his temper starting to rise.
*This is Hank's decision, not ours. There's nothing we can do.*
*But how can he not want to say goodbye to her?*
*He's ashamed.*
Scott could not accept that. *He's more than old enough to face up to his own...*
The hiss of an airlock cut their conversation short as the door on the Quinjet opened up.
Tigra emerged from the craft. Some of the X-Men did double-takes. With her red-orange hair, black stripes and long tail, she was similar enough to Tyger in appearance that they could be mistaken for sisters!
Tigra's eyes scanned the group, and settled on Cyclops. She sauntered over to him.
"Hello!" she greeted him politely as she extended her hand.
Scott shook it. "Hi, Tigra. I'm Scott, and this is my wife, Jean."
Tigra nodded curtly to her. "I know," she replied pleasantly. Even though they had never met in person before, each new the other team's roster. "Hank sent me here to pick someone up," she briefly scanned the area again. "Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him in ages."
Scott hesitated for a moment, then replied, "He's not here. There was important business he had to attend to."
She looked at him strangely. "More important than this? As far as I know, it's his girlfriend I'm supposed to be picking up."
Scott nodded reluctantly.
"He's also given me instructions that I'm not supposed to repeat to anybody else. Mind telling me what this is all about?"
*Where IS she, Jean?* Tigra's questioning was making him very uncomfortable. Not being in complete control of a situation always made him nervous; and this was Hank's situation, not his.
*Tyger is heading down the corridor right now, Scott.*
"He's been very secretive about it all, Tigra," Scott replied. "There are indeed heavy security issues involved."
Being part of a separate superhero group, Tigra couldn't help but grin smugly. "Security issues? Here? At the infamous X-Men mansion? You've got to be..."
A flicker of black and orange had caught Tigra's eye and she turned her head to see Tyger enter the hangar.
Her eyes locked on Tyger's face. "Mirror, mirror on the wall..." she murmured, almost under her breath. Then she hurried over and relieved Tyger of her suitcase.
Tyger had freshened up earlier, having scrubbed away all evidence of that day's numerous crying sessions. But she seemed to have a never-ending supply of tears as even more welled up in her eyes and threatened to break loose as she hastily said her goodbyes to the only friends she had ever had.
Then, with one last look over her shoulder, she boarded the Quinjet with heavy steps and a heavy heart burdened with the most overwhelming grief she had ever known.
* * *
Tyger fumbled with the seat straps as rogue tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She looked out the window at her friends down below, wondering miserably if she'd ever see them again. Her stomach churned as she worried about what was going to happen to her now; about what was to come.
She continued to look long and hard, scanning the area for the one person who had not shown up to say goodbye. Hoping that at the very least he would appear to watch the jet leave as she was whisked away to parts unknown. The engine fired up and a knot solidified in her stomach as she felt the jet taxying toward the exit.
Hank hadn't shown.
Her eyes burned as a new set of tears welled up in them. It was true. Hank hated her. She had lossed his baby and now he never wanted to see her again.
He didn't love her anymore.
Tyger felt someone pet her hand and she looked up to see Tigra smiling comfortingly at her.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of you," Tigra told her.
Tyger clasped Tigra's hand, and smiled weakly at her striped counterpart as the Quinjet lifted off the ground and flew off toward the horizon.
* * *
I'm too proud for crying;
I didn't come here to break down.
It's just a dream of mine is coming to an end.
And how can I blame you,
when I built my world around the hope that one day we'd be so much more than friends.
I don't wanna know the price I'm gonna pay for dreaming.
Even now it's more than I can take.
Tell me how am I supposed to live without you,
now that I've been loving you so long.
How am I supposed to live without you,
and how am I supposed to carry on
when all that I've been living for is gone.
Michael Bolten
* * *
In his lab, as the Quinjet faded in the distance, Hank leaned forward and turned off the monitor.
"It is a far better thing I do now, than I've ever done before. And it is a far better place you go than you've ever known," he whispered softly, then slowly leaned over, laid his head in his arms and let the tears fall. The final thought that entered his head as he slipped into an exhausted sleep were, #Goodbye, my love.#
* * *
Jean found him there, with the tell-tail trails of damp fur down his cheeks. Her emotions were a jumble of contradictory questions. She didn't know what to believe. But she did know that Hank was going to destroy himself if something wasn't done. Sure, she knew he had had relationships in the past, but a child - especially one he cared so much about - made this one extra-special. And when that specialness is tainted by soul-destroying guilt such as this, the outcome was predictable.
Jean would not let it happen.
She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I don't know what happened in the past, but you have a future that you have to live. We have to go beyond this. If not, we'll lose you too, and I refuse to let that happen. She is gone in body and until we know more, let her be gone in mind."
She took a deep breath, kissed him on the top of his head, and whispered, "Forgive me."
Then, reaching out with her power, she whispered her final word:
"Forget."
* * *
EPILOGUE
A few days later...
A broad smile spread across Professor Xavier's face as he steered his hoverchair toward the mansion's front doors. He'd been gone for such a very long time, and now he was finally home once again. As he entered, he found that a few of his X-men had gathered to greet him.
"Welcome back, Professor," said Scott. "It's good to have you home."
"Yes, I'm very happy to be home, and to see you once again!" the professor replied jovially. "How have things been while I've been gone?"
Scott stiffened a little, and turned to look at Jean. Brief, quiet thoughts passed between the two.
"Nothing much," Scott replied, returning his attention to the Professor. "It's all been rather dull around here, actually."
* * *
"Yes, rather dull indeed," a sinister voice commented in the dimly lit confines of an underground laboratory. That voice belonged to a hulking figure, whose dark blue fur was already returning to its normal grey-black colouring as the effects of whatever he had used to alter his appearance slowly wore off. He was watching Xavier and the other X-Men on a wide-screen monitor with sadistic amusement.
"It doesn't matter. I got what I wanted, didn't I?" he stated smugly, then turned toward the incubator resting in a corner of the room. Inside lay a tiny infant, covered in the sheerest layer of soft, blue fur, and clenching its tiny fists.
"Ye-e-es, you're going to make your 'daddy' proud, aren't you?" he crooned, then laughed long and harshly.
Little blue lips pursed together, then opened to release a shrill cry, calling out for a mother it would never know.
* * *
THE END (or is it?)
That having been said, you people deserve one heckle of a good explanation for such a late chapter. As you know, I'm co-writing this story with Tal. He has been out of town since January, undergoing his training as an Officer for the Canadian Army. He managed to get leave and come home for a weekend, during which time we managed to get this last chapter put together.
I HOPE it was well worth the wait!
And some more relevant information: as far as I know, Hank left the Avengers at about the same time Tigra joined them, so I don't know if the two ever actually met, but it's obvious they never actually worked together on the team. And I know that Tigra quit the Avengers, but still remains on a sort of on-call basis. We've twisted the history around to make it fit in this story (just because Tal just HAD to get Tigra into it. Yeesh. And I thought I was the only one obsessed with striped characters.)
TO RECAPITULATE: Once upon a time, Hank met a young mutant named Tyger. They fell in love, even though that road had many bumps and potholes (Hank still has the marks to prove it). She became pregnant with twins, but during one fateful night, the X-Men were overcome by some unknown force and one of the unborn babies was stolen. All the evidence pointed to Hank as the only plausible culprit. The last chapter ended with Hank making a phone call to Tigra, asking her for a favour. And so, this chapter begins. Enjoy!
## - represents thoughts
** - represents telepathic speech
CHAPTER 23: The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions
* * *
I thought I saw a man brought to life.
He was warm;
he came around like he was dignified.
He showed me what it was to cry.
Well you couldn't be that man I adored.
You don't seem to know,
seem to care what your heart is for.
But I don't know him anymore.
There's nothing where he used to lie;
my conversation has run dry.
That's what's going on.
Nothing's fine I'm torn.
I'm all out of faith,
this is how I feel.
I'm cold and I'm ashamed,
lying naked on the floor.
Illusion never changed
into something real.
I'm wide awake and I can see
the perfect sky is torn.
You're a little late;
I'm already torn
Natalie Imbruglia
* * *
It was early in the afternoon on the following day. Tyger wrenched another shirt off a coat hanger and threw it at the open suitcase on the bed. Her tail twitched angrily back and forth as she stalked over to the suitcase and tried to close it. It would not obey. Tears stinging her eyes, she flung it open again and tried to stuff the clothing further into it. When it refused to close a second time, she grabbed it up and in a fit of rage hurled it across the room where it smacked into the far wall with a loud thud. As various items of clothing fell to the floor, Tyger sank down heavily onto the bed, buried her face in her hands and started to bawl.
How could he do this to her? How could he?! He had to hate her. He just had to! She had lossed his baby. He was mad at her for that. She didn't want to be intimate with him; so he couldn't stand to have her around anymore.
Tyger could fathom no other explanation as to why Hank would make her leave. And she had to make up her own explanations; Hank refused to give her any satisfactory reasons. He had told her that morning that he was sending her away. He had tried to explain it, of course. THAT conversation had not gone well in the least. And curse her empathy, but she knew he was hiding something from her, something important. But what, she didn't know.
Having exhausted that particular round of tears, Tyger took a deep breath, then another. Then she hauled herself up off the bed and began to pick up the clothes in the hopes of completing the task of packing before the next wave of sobs hit her.
* * *
Jean set the Cerebro helm back in its resting spot, then sighed heavily as she rubbed her aching temples. Why can't I find anything? she wondered, feeling very tired and extremely frustrated. All this time spent looking, searching for any trace of the missing infant and the ones that had stolen it, had brought up nothing. Nothing at all. Not even Logan had been successful.
Her mind briefly entertained the notion that Hank was correct, that he had done it, but she shook it off. It was impossible. She had scanned his mind and it had shown nothing that could prove that he had done what he claimed he did.
Jean reached her mind out to Tyger, just to check up on her. The woman's deep depression was to be expected, but it was still disconcerting. Jean winced in pain. Tyger was raging...no...crying...no - it was all a muddle. She dug and sifted through the thoughts, looking for the reason for the emotional turmoil.
#Hank is sending her away?!!#
Jean had to talk to him. Now.
* * *
Jean found Hank in his lab, attacking a bottle of aspirin.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
He jumped then turned to face her, a little miffed at having been startled by the intrusion. "Well Jean, I THOUGHT I was merely taking some aspirin for my aching head, but humour me: what DO I think I am doing?"
"You're sending Tyger away! Why?!"
Jean had unfortunately caught him in a bad mood, and he let it show. "I was under the pretence that telepaths residing at the mansion are prohibited from reading other's thoughts without authorization. You know, ethics and all," he snapped.
"That doesn't count in matters like this! How can you do this to her? She NEEDS you!"
Hank winced as if he'd just been slapped across the face. "And I suppose that is why she does not want me anywhere near her? Why she cringes when I touch her? She does not even want to be in the same room as me, Jean." His voice sounded angry; pained.
"That's the depression! She's been traumatized by the loss, AND she's afraid of losing the other baby! But she needs you to be there for her when she starts getting over it! She needs to know that you WILL be there for her!" Jean insisted.
His voice softened a bit. "What she NEEDS, Jean, is safety." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "And that is something that I have failed to provide for her."
"Don't be an idiot!" she snapped. "It wasn't your fault! IF you DID have a schizophrenic episode, I'D have seen it!"
Hank's jaw tightened. "If it WAS a pure psychotic schizophrenic split, Jean, the two personalities could in fact be perfectly hidden from each other. Or," he mused, "at least Jekyl cannot find Hyde."
"That's stupid, ridiculous, impossible, and YOU know it, Hank!" she retorted. "I am amongst the top telepaths on the planet, and if I can't find your 'Mr. Hyde', he ISN'T there!" she stated, unable to mask her pride.
Hank responded with a quiet, serious voice, "Are you willing to bet Tyger's life on that?"
Jean hesitated for a mere moment, then said with confidence, "Yes, I am."
Hank shook his head. "You hesitated, Jean. You thought about it. That is more than enough to make me unwilling to take the chance."
"But you haven't even told her WHY you're sending her away! She's hurt, confused, angry, and thinks you don't care for her!"
Hank turned his back to her. "And WHAT exactly am I supposed to say to her? Am I supposed to look her in the eye and simply say yes dear, I love you so much that it would appear I drugged you, ripped our child from your womb, hid it somewhere, then beat myself up for the sheer pleasure of it. Have a nice day."
He sighed long and deeply.
"No, Jean. I have thought about this over and over again. If she hates me for this, for sending her away, I'd rather she hated me for the all wrong reasons than all the right ones."
Jean grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. Hank tried to resist, but found that it was futile.
#Damn telekinesis.#
She then place her free hand on his other shoulder and shook him so violently that his teeth clacked together with the force.
"I'm going to tell you this ONE more time, Hank," she growled. "You...[SHAKE]...did...[SHAKE]...not...[SHAKE]...do this!!!"
She then released him, and he promptly fell on his butt.
I do believe the woman is quite perturbed, he thought to himself, then patiently waited for his stomach to settle and for the furniture to stop spinning around the room.
Hank, still slightly green, looked up at Jean and stated simply but firmly, "She's going. And wherever she is going, it will be safer than here."
At this point, Jean was ready to strangle him. Hank cringed slightly at the cold brush of phantom fingers against his throat.
"But you've already admitted that you don't know where she's going!" Jean exclaimed, utterly exasperated. "How do you know it's safe?"
Hank got back onto his feet, and looked at her wearily. "It is safe BECAUSE I don't know," he replied. "If you are wrong, then not knowing means that I cannot find any way to harm her. If you are right, then not knowing means that I cannot reveal her location to anyone, either accidently or deliberately."
Jean had heard enough. She promptly spun on her heel and stomped toward the doorway. As she left, Hank heard her voice, loudly and clearly, in his head. "You're doing the wrong thing." It was punctuated by the slamming of the door.
Hank stood there staring at the closed door for several minutes before finally saying to himself, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions; but these intentions are necessary."
* * *
Jean went to the kitchen, and made herself a BIG cup of cocoa. She had just taken her first sip when Jubilee walked in. The look on the girl's face alone was enough to make Jean want to groan. She wasn't sure she had the patience to deal with Jubilee right now.
"Jean?" she asked, her voice pleading. "Ever since the break-in and Tyger losing her baby, everyone's been acting really wierded out and now Tyger's packing and I know she had an argument with Hank but that's not enough to make her wanna move out, is it? AND when I tried to ask her about it, she just curled up on the bed and cried and didn't say a thing so I left and I asked Ro and Rogue and anyone else I could find but they didn't know anything about it either so PLEASE can't you tell me what the heck is going on?!!"
Jean absentmindedly marvelled at Jubilee's lung capacity as she tried to work out what would be the best explanation for her. The only ones at the mansion who knew that Tyger's child had actually been stolen were herself, Hank, Logan and Scott. The rest had been told that she had lossed the baby naturally.
"Jubilee, the break-in has shown that the mansion is insecure and thus unsafe for Tyger and her baby."
Jubilee gave her a strange look. "But Jean, of COURSE it's not safe here! The mansion's already been rebuilt, like, FIVE times?! If you wanted it to survive, you shoulda built another Fort Knox or something instead of a Victorian mansion!"
"Maybe you're right, but would you really want to live in a 'Fort Knox'?"
Jubilee paused a moment. "No, I guess not. It'd be rather dreary without any windows...wait a minute! What's this got to do with Tyger leaving?"
Jean sighed. "It's been decided that it's in the best interest of Tyger and her baby if she's moved someplace safer."
Jubilee blanched at Jean's confirmation that Tyger was in fact leaving.
"But where's she going? And she'll be comin' back, right?"
"I don't know."
Jubilee shot her an indignant look. "Whaddya mean you don't know?"
"I just don't," Jean replied, her voice calm but firm.
"You don't know, or you just don't wanna tell me?" Jubilee retorted, anger flashing in her eyes.
"Jubilee..."
"I've got a right to know! I'm her best friend!"
"I understand that, but this is a special situation."
They continued to banter for a while until Jubilee gave up and stormed out of the kitchen, complaining loudly about how adults never trusted to tell teenagers ANYthing important.
Jean had managed to get halfway through her mug of cocoa when Logan wandered in. He went over to the fridge and grabbed a beer.
"Our little pussycat's wanderin' off?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Yes," Jean replied with a monotone voice.
"The resident blue fathead's idea?"
"Yes."
"An' the reason is...?"
"He doesn't think she's safe, here."
"So? She could be on the Muir Space Station an' still wouldn't be safe. What's got his fur quiverin' this time?"
"He doesn't think we can protect her."
Logan snorted. "How much safer can she be than in a mansion full of X-Men? After all, WE'RE the good guys...at least, that's what my union's been tellin' me."
Jean made no reply.
"Let me guess," said Logan, a smug smile appearing on his face. "The big guy thinks HE did it."
Jean looked up in astonishment. She automatically reached out to pluck the answers from Logan's mind. He felt her probing, smiled wider, then strengthened his mental sheilds.
"No fair peekin', Jeannie," he said playfully.
Defeated, Jean retracted the probe.
Logan tapped his nose. "They might have kept me out of it during the entire thing, but they forgot ta do one very important thing - hide their scent. I could smell where they were and what they were doin'...almost."
"Then it was...?" Jean prodded. Logan knew she couldn't handle the suspense for very long.
"Yes and no," he replied. "It smelled like him, but it didn't. I can't explain it. So, if it wasn't Hank," he continued with a sarcastic smirk, "it musta been his evil twin brother. Seriously though, biologically it WAS Hank. But his scent was tainted with somethin' else. His sweat smelled differently."
Jean fell into deep thought, staring off at nothing. "Oh dear...a person's emotional state CAN affect their scent..."
"Yep, it can," Logan said matter-of-factly.
"So, if it WAS Hank, yet smelled differently..."
Logan nodded gravely. "Right. The blue guy's flipped his lid."
Jean sank back in her chair, giving out under the weight of what Logan had just said.
"Do you actually believe that?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Logan's serious expression melted away as he gave a harsh bark of laughter. "Not fer a second! There were TWO of 'em ta begin with, Jeannie. So if Hank WAS involved, and that's pretty much a given considerin' his scent was everywhere, then he must of been so full of drugs he didn't know WHAT he was doing. Hell, there are cocktails out there that could turn ME into a zombie - for a little while at least," he added with a smirk.
She looked up at him. "And the other?"
"Not a clue. Whoever it was left very few scent traces. They wore an environmental suit of some sort. It wasn't perfect, though." He tapped his nose. "I'd know 'em if I ever smelled 'em again."
Jean shook her head and asked solemnly, "You've told Hank this?"
"Fuck no!" he replied, looking incredulous. "He's feelin' so low right now he's practically waitin' fer someone ta start blamin' him! I sure as hell ain't gonna do it! Besides, he'll probably feel better once those drugs clear from his system."
Logan finished his beer in one gulp, crushed the can and tossed it into the trash, then left.
Jean stayed where she was, thinking furiously. It's all impossible! Completely impossible! she thought to herself. She had found no drugs in Hank's system following the assault, but Logan had just confirmed them. And if THAT'S true, she thought, her heart filling with dread, just what ELSE did I miss?
* * *
It was a cool night. The stars twinkled through the sparse covering of clouds as the Avenger's Quinjet made its way to Salem Centre. It was a short-winged, wide-bodied, bullet-shaped aircraft with a big 'A' on the tail. It was brought to rest in the hanger of the X-mansion where Jean, Scott, and most of the X-Men were assembled.
*Where is Hank?* Scott asked Jean.
*In his lab,* she replied.
*Well, tell him to come here right now, or he's going to miss saying goodbye.*
She paused. *He doesn't want to come.*
*What?!*
*He doesn't want to come,* she repeated.
*Then tell him I'm ordering him to do so!*
Jean shook her head, alerting some of the more attentive X-Men that a telepathic conversation was occurring. Gambit stared at them curiously, wishing he could hear what they were saying.
*He won't come, or you won't tell him?* Scott asked, his temper starting to rise.
*This is Hank's decision, not ours. There's nothing we can do.*
*But how can he not want to say goodbye to her?*
*He's ashamed.*
Scott could not accept that. *He's more than old enough to face up to his own...*
The hiss of an airlock cut their conversation short as the door on the Quinjet opened up.
Tigra emerged from the craft. Some of the X-Men did double-takes. With her red-orange hair, black stripes and long tail, she was similar enough to Tyger in appearance that they could be mistaken for sisters!
Tigra's eyes scanned the group, and settled on Cyclops. She sauntered over to him.
"Hello!" she greeted him politely as she extended her hand.
Scott shook it. "Hi, Tigra. I'm Scott, and this is my wife, Jean."
Tigra nodded curtly to her. "I know," she replied pleasantly. Even though they had never met in person before, each new the other team's roster. "Hank sent me here to pick someone up," she briefly scanned the area again. "Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him in ages."
Scott hesitated for a moment, then replied, "He's not here. There was important business he had to attend to."
She looked at him strangely. "More important than this? As far as I know, it's his girlfriend I'm supposed to be picking up."
Scott nodded reluctantly.
"He's also given me instructions that I'm not supposed to repeat to anybody else. Mind telling me what this is all about?"
*Where IS she, Jean?* Tigra's questioning was making him very uncomfortable. Not being in complete control of a situation always made him nervous; and this was Hank's situation, not his.
*Tyger is heading down the corridor right now, Scott.*
"He's been very secretive about it all, Tigra," Scott replied. "There are indeed heavy security issues involved."
Being part of a separate superhero group, Tigra couldn't help but grin smugly. "Security issues? Here? At the infamous X-Men mansion? You've got to be..."
A flicker of black and orange had caught Tigra's eye and she turned her head to see Tyger enter the hangar.
Her eyes locked on Tyger's face. "Mirror, mirror on the wall..." she murmured, almost under her breath. Then she hurried over and relieved Tyger of her suitcase.
Tyger had freshened up earlier, having scrubbed away all evidence of that day's numerous crying sessions. But she seemed to have a never-ending supply of tears as even more welled up in her eyes and threatened to break loose as she hastily said her goodbyes to the only friends she had ever had.
Then, with one last look over her shoulder, she boarded the Quinjet with heavy steps and a heavy heart burdened with the most overwhelming grief she had ever known.
* * *
Tyger fumbled with the seat straps as rogue tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She looked out the window at her friends down below, wondering miserably if she'd ever see them again. Her stomach churned as she worried about what was going to happen to her now; about what was to come.
She continued to look long and hard, scanning the area for the one person who had not shown up to say goodbye. Hoping that at the very least he would appear to watch the jet leave as she was whisked away to parts unknown. The engine fired up and a knot solidified in her stomach as she felt the jet taxying toward the exit.
Hank hadn't shown.
Her eyes burned as a new set of tears welled up in them. It was true. Hank hated her. She had lossed his baby and now he never wanted to see her again.
He didn't love her anymore.
Tyger felt someone pet her hand and she looked up to see Tigra smiling comfortingly at her.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of you," Tigra told her.
Tyger clasped Tigra's hand, and smiled weakly at her striped counterpart as the Quinjet lifted off the ground and flew off toward the horizon.
* * *
I'm too proud for crying;
I didn't come here to break down.
It's just a dream of mine is coming to an end.
And how can I blame you,
when I built my world around the hope that one day we'd be so much more than friends.
I don't wanna know the price I'm gonna pay for dreaming.
Even now it's more than I can take.
Tell me how am I supposed to live without you,
now that I've been loving you so long.
How am I supposed to live without you,
and how am I supposed to carry on
when all that I've been living for is gone.
Michael Bolten
* * *
In his lab, as the Quinjet faded in the distance, Hank leaned forward and turned off the monitor.
"It is a far better thing I do now, than I've ever done before. And it is a far better place you go than you've ever known," he whispered softly, then slowly leaned over, laid his head in his arms and let the tears fall. The final thought that entered his head as he slipped into an exhausted sleep were, #Goodbye, my love.#
* * *
Jean found him there, with the tell-tail trails of damp fur down his cheeks. Her emotions were a jumble of contradictory questions. She didn't know what to believe. But she did know that Hank was going to destroy himself if something wasn't done. Sure, she knew he had had relationships in the past, but a child - especially one he cared so much about - made this one extra-special. And when that specialness is tainted by soul-destroying guilt such as this, the outcome was predictable.
Jean would not let it happen.
She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I don't know what happened in the past, but you have a future that you have to live. We have to go beyond this. If not, we'll lose you too, and I refuse to let that happen. She is gone in body and until we know more, let her be gone in mind."
She took a deep breath, kissed him on the top of his head, and whispered, "Forgive me."
Then, reaching out with her power, she whispered her final word:
"Forget."
* * *
EPILOGUE
A few days later...
A broad smile spread across Professor Xavier's face as he steered his hoverchair toward the mansion's front doors. He'd been gone for such a very long time, and now he was finally home once again. As he entered, he found that a few of his X-men had gathered to greet him.
"Welcome back, Professor," said Scott. "It's good to have you home."
"Yes, I'm very happy to be home, and to see you once again!" the professor replied jovially. "How have things been while I've been gone?"
Scott stiffened a little, and turned to look at Jean. Brief, quiet thoughts passed between the two.
"Nothing much," Scott replied, returning his attention to the Professor. "It's all been rather dull around here, actually."
* * *
"Yes, rather dull indeed," a sinister voice commented in the dimly lit confines of an underground laboratory. That voice belonged to a hulking figure, whose dark blue fur was already returning to its normal grey-black colouring as the effects of whatever he had used to alter his appearance slowly wore off. He was watching Xavier and the other X-Men on a wide-screen monitor with sadistic amusement.
"It doesn't matter. I got what I wanted, didn't I?" he stated smugly, then turned toward the incubator resting in a corner of the room. Inside lay a tiny infant, covered in the sheerest layer of soft, blue fur, and clenching its tiny fists.
"Ye-e-es, you're going to make your 'daddy' proud, aren't you?" he crooned, then laughed long and harshly.
Little blue lips pursed together, then opened to release a shrill cry, calling out for a mother it would never know.
* * *
THE END (or is it?)