Mystique sat alone in her office at Bayville High. Her door was locked and the halls were quiet. The silence was broken by the chink of glass on glass and followed by the sound of pouring liquid.
She cleared her throat and sat up, laying lazily forward to lean on her elbows.
"Again Charles." She lifted the glass to her lips and drained it. "If you'd be so kind." She spoke quietly, and sadly. She mashed the button on the answering machine again and held it too long.
The machine hesitated for a moment, clicked, and began to repeat itself again.
"Hello. This is Charles Xavier. I'm calling to report the expected absence of one of the charges left in my care."
Mystique tuned out the name as he said it. She wiped at her eyes, even forgetting to chide herself for the weakness, and she swept the bottle back up, quickly, off the desk; Perhaps just for the distraction.
". . . While we are hoping that she will not require a lengthy hospital stay, the truth is that we do not know yet. I will, of course, keep you informed, as soon as there is any change in her condition. I ask only that should anyone be concerned, they are informed that we are doing everything possible and sparing no expense . . ."
"Thank you then." She said to the machine. "For that."
She folded her arms and lay her head down on her desk. And gently, intentionally pushed the bottle, half full, off the desk and in to the trash.
And she took a deep breath in through her nose, and closed her eyes to feel the room spin and listen for the phone to ring. Not that she would answer. Not that she could speak to them. But she would be there. Listening.
Across town, Forge put the last of a string of new medical inventions in to his backpack. He pulled the straps closed and slung it over his shoulders. It was heavier than he thought. He pulled on a hat and slipped out the door.
The mansion wasn't all that far, and he knew all the best short-cuts.
He couldn't stop himself from letting the memories play out. He had been adjusting a device he built that would enable Kurt to teleport further and slow his time in the parallel world he travels through.
"Oh, no doubt man. Without her – The X-Men never would have known we were trapped in that experiment of yours. We owe her big-time." Kurt smiled infectiously.
"I wouldn't have guessed it." Forge had said "She looks a little scary to me."
Ow! He thought. I wish I hadn't said that.
"They didn't have girls like that when I went to school." He had shrugged. "But they didn't have blue furry mutants either." He smirked "And I know at least one who's all right."
"Kurt bowed modestly. "Hey are we just about ready to try this out? I vant to see what the decorations for the dance look like."
"Whoa, slow down, we wont be ready for an hour yet."
"oh, man …" Kurt's voice trailed off.
He shook off the memory and breathed in the cool night air. He wasn't sure that anything he had in his pack could help. He wasn't completely sure that he understood what was wrong or how it had happened, but if there was any way that technology could be of assistance he was bound and determined that he would see to it.
I have to. He hung his head. I never said 'thank you'. And he was ashamed. He had always meant to.
He stopped at the corner and stood for just a moment, on the outer rim of a street lamps soft glow.
And he reached out with all the raw emotion within him and proclaimed before the universe. "This is unjust! You must return our sister to us. This is not her time."
The words were charged and dissipated in to the wind as whispers, and with them went all of his physical strength.
He took a shallow breath and hefted the pack higher on to his shoulders. And began trudging again toward the mansion, his eyes cast down and his feet now heavy as his heart.
Back on the roof of the mansion Kurt saw a shooting star.
"Come on." He told it playfully "You know vat I vant." And he thought again of Rogue, this time he saw her angry at him, and chasing him – Because he had sprayed her with the hose.
"I know I can be a spaz sometimes." He shrugged sheepishly at his friend the sky "But isn't that what a little brother is supposed to be?" His eyes were imploring, reflecting the multitude of shimmering night stars. "I didn't even know we were related then." He explained. "I mean, I come by it honestly, right?"
He suddenly felt very small and alone.
"This morning." He said softly, with Rogue's face fresh in his mind "I thought you looked really pretty." He cast his eyes down off the roof of the house and to his left; towards Scott's window. "And he's a fool not to have noticed." He told her. "I know you didn't think anyone else saw it." He inhaled slowly and felt another wave of sadness coming. "But I vant to look out for you." He pressed his eyes closed. "Family does that." He told himself, clenching his hands in to fists and setting his jaw.
And he realized exactly how angry he was. He began to shake in rage. How dare Mezmero endanger my family like this? And he felt himself go suddenly cold, right through to the bone. He knew this was an adrenaline rush, like in the danger room, but he had never had one from sheer anger before.
He relaxed his fists and raised his hand. It was shaking.
"Great." He thought. And he lay back to let it pass. He felt the adrenaline weakness begin to set in and he was suddenly tired. He turned once more to the stars above. "Just get better soon." He said, although not altogether sure if he was speaking to his sister, the stars, or himself.
Jean was staring out her window. The wind was gently sweeping through the trees, making them sway in time.
Her thoughts were in the distant past.
She didn't remember going in to her own coma, only emerging and eventually recovering her pre-coma memories.
She remembered waking up. Xavier was like a distant buzzing fly, calling her name. But somewhere inside she had found a chord and she struck it herself. And it rose through her until she thought she would shake apart and shatter.
Then she opened her eyes and saw Xavier, smiling down, and the doctors in their coats moving about the room.
But what was that chord? In the coma it had seemed like an idea or an event that had swept her along and sent her clattering through half the minds on the planet as she retreated in to herself.
Now all that remained was a vague notion that she had seen the way and followed it.
She was too tired to be frustrated any more and she let herself sink down in to her chair to watch the clouds roll across the moon.