EIGHT
In a plastic holding cell a few hundred feet underground, Erik Magnus Lensherr was allowed few luxuries. Almost anything with a metallic element was forbidden, including belt buckles, wire rimmed glasses, pens, cufflinks and loose change. A television in his cell was out of the question, and so he had to make do with the gaurds' morning paper (After he was finished with it, of course). He sat at his glass and plastic desk with the newspaper opened before him. Earl Landers' confession was a top story, and Erik read the article and following editorial with interest. He looked up and let a broad smile overcome him.
"Oh Charles," He said to the empty cell. "I know you can hear me, even if you don't want to." He paused, allowing the simple truth sink in. "You would have the world believe that we are so different. We argued on this in Egypt all those years ago. Ours was an ideological difference, you said. I told you then, as I do now, that our goals are the same, the only thing that seperates us is our adherence to human law. Perhaps the only difference between you and I, old friend, is that I languish in this plastic cage for my crimes. Your cage will be of your own making."
Then, as though physical distance were nothing, Charles Xavier responded telepathically. "Perhaps, Erik. We are similar in so many ways. If you know me at all you know I will pay the price for my actions with each beat of my heart. I had no choice."
"I know. And Charles?"
"Yes?'
"I'm proud of you."
Jeremiah could hear running just beyond the heavy metal door, could hear men shout up and down the corridors. Something was happening. They were preparing for. The battle that Creed so often prophesized? Could it finally be at hand? Some of Creed's most stirring speeches reffered to a battle, although the references were veiled so that only the true beleivers would understand. Jeremiah counted himself among them.It made his inside ache to think that the time was near and he was no longer among his brothers.
He put his ear to the thick, cool ddoor and listened. He could hear the rythmic sound of metal sliding against metal, boots clanging this way and that, oreders being barked, and he wanted to be a part of it. He didnt want Creed to prevent him from realizing his destiny.
then, as if someone had read his mind, the bolt slid back and the door swung open, flooding the little cell with light. Jermiah held his arm up to sheild his eyes from the blinding white fire. He blinked rapidly at the figure in the doorway, who threw a bundle of clothes at his feet.
"Get ready," The voice said. "You're fighting with us."
"Thankyou for your attentdence here today, Proffessor Xavier."
Xavier inclined his head. He had been summoned to Judge Valery Sinclair's exspansive office when the news broke about Landers' public confession. She sat behind her ornate mahogany desk, fingers laced in front of her, looking at Xavier over her rimless glasses.
"I'm glad you called when you did, your honor."
"I want to be honest with you, Proffessor," She said, taking off her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose. "And I trust I can speak to you in confidence?"
"Absolutley."
She sighed. "I did not believe Mr. Landers' allegations regarding your school, and I never considered an investigating panel very necessary based on one man's assertions. But we live in strange times, as I'm sure you know, and the political landscape is changing. Graydon Creed had a lot to do with the decision to assemble an investigative panel, and he is a very influential force with a lot of key players. The politics of bigotry rely on uncertainty of the unknown. When I was assigned as chair, I tried to make the panel as diverse and broad as possible, from both ends of the political and social spectrum. I was hoping for the best possible outcome." She paused and leaned back in her chair, smiling slightly. "Now, it looks like the very man responsible for the inquiry is also responsible for its closure. I have dissolved the panel, proffessor, and it looks as if your school is in the clear."
Xavier smiled. "Thankyou, your honor."
Sinclair stood up and walked over to the huge window directly behind her desk, looking out over a picture perfect view. The lake beyond was breathtaking. "Keep doing what you're doing, Proffessor," She said without turning. "Your fledglings are our future. Teach them to resist the flow of hate that seems to grow with every passing year, because that is the way to bring us together."
Xavier was impressed. Sinclair knew of the school's true purpose, a fact that she seemed to mentally supress during the hearings. Perhaps there was more to judge Valery Sinclair than even Xavier could know.
So now Xavier had his conclusion, that his school would be safe and his students protected.
"I fear that my students will be fighting for quite some time yet, your honor."
"You talk about such things as if this were a war."
"Sometimes, it feels like it."
Migraine headaches wreak havok with telepaths. Their powers are disturbed, wekened, or in some cases, blink on and off for hours on end. In Jean's case, her powers weaken to the point where even a faint empathic signal from a passer by is almost impossible. Proffessor Xavier sometimes suffered from this, too, and his only explanation for it was that Migraines attack those parts of the brain vital for telepathic and telekinetic ability.
Jean rubbed her temples and tried to focus on the papers in front of her. At times, when the migraine wasnt as bad, she had to really concentrate on filtering out the different levels of psychic interference that was almost like radio static inside her head.
She sighed heavily and decided to give up on the papers. A loud knock on the door startled her.
"Come in."
The door opened and Logan appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Heard from Charley yet?"
"No. But even if I wanted to I couldnt..." She pinched the bridge of her nose and then buried her face in her hands for a brief second.
Logan nodded his understanding. "You need to take it easy, Jean. All of this stress can't be good for you..."
'Thanks for the concern, Logan, but I'll be fine." Her standoffish tone cut through the air and Logan frowned.
"I know you will."
She looked up at him and smiled wanly. "You havent really been helping matters. You and Scott."
He nodded again. "He doesnt deserve you, Jean..."
She stood up and held up her hand, cutting him off. "I dont need this, right now, Logan..." She said.
"You've always known how I feel. Even if you can't read my mind, you know how I feel."
She lowered her head and said in a barely audible whipser. "Yes, I know."
He walked into the room, and reached out to touch her arm. She moved away, arms still crossed. "He's beneath a powerful woman like you Jean. He hardly understands you..."
"Oh, and you do?"
"More than you know."
She sighed and looked up at him, her green eyes shimmering. "You scared me when you first came here. I didnt like the way you made me feel when you were around..."
"You were scared of me?"
"Scared of myself around you. Sometimes I still am."
He reached out again. This time she didnt shy away. His fingers pressed against her arm and she looked up at him with a veil of red hair framing her face. She could feel the heat of his fingertips through the thin fabric of her blouse, and she let a sigh pass through her open lips. "Logan. this cannot...."
He held a finger up to her lips, and she frowned at him, but before she could protest further, he brought his mouth down over hers and kissed her like she'd never been kissed. She brought her hands up to his shoulders and let herself be dominated by him, by the sheer power of his arms cradling her, struggling not to crush her to him. She yeilded completely.
He paused and drew his lips away from hers, then offered a smile. "Gimme half a goddamn chance, Jean."
She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, her head on Logan's shoulder, but her word were snatched away by the slamming of a door. She looked up to see what the disturbance was, a frown shadowing her face, and she saw Scott standing in the office behind Logan.
Night was fast approaching. The sun hung low in the sky, blood red in colour, turning the sky pink. Chamber sat outside the mansion, on its massive front steps, watching the sun make its low progress. His stomach felt tight and he couldnt shake the feeling that something was brewing. He knew that the adults had been under immense strain lately, and he knew some of it had to do with the love triangle between Cyclops, Jean and Logan. The other students gossiped and speculated on the nature of the triangle. Mostly, the whole issue just bubbled along under the surface, but lately it was being brought into the open. Chamber knew this couldnt be good. Something was wrong. It was heavy in the air.
Sebastien was right. Chamber was afraid. At heart, he was scared that everything stable around him would come crashing down, and he hated Sebastien for making him admit it, and now couldnt keep the boy out of his head.
Creed stood before the assembled troops with his hands clasped behind his back, like some monarch inspecting a brave fighting force. He paced before them slowly, making sure each and every set of eyes followed him. He drew a breath and thrust out his chest. "This is an important day," He said, his voice loud and filling the cavernous room they stood in. "The Friends of Humanity are going to fight for the cause, we are going to smash through the hypocrisy and the lies and burn that mansion and everything it stands for, to the ground. It is our responsibility, because nobody else will do it. It is our burden, and we shoulder it with pride. We have been building up to this day since the foundation of the party, and those who survive will remember it for the rest of their days. You will be considered heroes, my boys, my brothers. The mutie lovers will be silenced by the thunderous roars of approval that will greet us when the American public hears of our endeavours. Our adversaries have an unfair advantage over us, because we are simply clean, whole and true Homo sapiens. They like to call themselves "Homo superior". They are not natural, not part of God's true plan. This is what will give us strength, my brothers. Believe it and we will defeat them." He paused, scanned the faces of the young men before him. "We will destroy them. We will wipe them out, and burn them all to the ground, we will dance on their corpses and drink a toast to our success in the rubble of Xavier's mansion!"
The assembly broke into wild hoots and cheers at this, and creed broke into a wide, satisfied grin. "Thats what I like to hear."
Jean's pulse pounded in her temples as Logan let go of her, his eyes locked on Scott. She placed a hand on his chest fearfully, then looked pleadingly at Scott. For once, she didnt know what he was thinking. His face was carved granite, and his glasses glowed crimson. "No!" She said, and stepped in between the two men. Logan gently placed his hand over hers and moved foward.
"Now you know," He said softly. His eyes blazed with emotion. "Now you know."
Scott nodded. "You've got what you wanted," He replied with an even voice. "Congratulations."
And with that, an optic blast of frightening intensity struck Logan and sent him hurtling through the window behind him.
Ororo looked down at Chamber from her perch atop the belltower, and smiled to herself. She could remember when she would get lost in her thoughts as a teenager. The world seemed so big and scary and full of people that wanted to hurt you, and that feeling is only amplified by being a mutant.
She looked up at the darkening storm clouds that covered the once blue sky, and she could smell the elecrticity charging the air, giving her a delicious thrill. Night time storms were her favorite. She sensed something in the pit of her stomach, like something brewing in the heavens, and she wanted to bring it on, if nothing else to give her a release from the stress of the week.
Suddenly, the mansion shook and the sound of breaking glass jolted Ororo back to reality. It sounded as if Cyclops had blasted a hole through one of the walls. She stood up and called upon the winds to gently lift her up and clear of the belltower, then she willed the winds to take her in the direction of the disturbance. When she reached the source of the explosion, she descended, glass crunching under foot as she touched ground. Logan was lying in the middle of the debris and Cyclops was looking at her through a gaping wound in the side of the mansion, where Charles' office window had once been. Logan was rising slowly, shaking shards of glass out of his hair, looking up with murderous intent at Cyclops. The tiny wounds all over his face caused by the flying debris were healing over already, making him seem all the more dangerous.
Ororo threw a glance at Jean, who stood behind Cyclops with a stricken look on her face. She knew Jean was the cause of this.
"Logan," She said softly. "Now is not the time for this."
Logan looked at her, his blue eyes burning.
"I want you off campus, Logan," Cyclops said, his visor pulsing red. His voice was still a monotone, devoid of anything other than authority.
Logan now stood in front of Cyclops and wiped his mouth. the tiny shards of glass in his hair glittered like diamonds against black velvet. When he turned to look at Jean, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes bored into her for a brief instant, before he turned his attention back to Cyclops. "Don't be stupid," Was all he said.
"I'm not being stupid. I'm being rational. I'm doing what needs to be done," Cyclops replied. His visor glowed red with every beat of his heart. As darkness crept in around them and the sky turned purple, it stood out like a beacon.
Logan shrugged. "It's not your call to make. And I think you're making a big mistake."
"Logan," Cyclops said more forcefully this time, "I want you gone from here."
Logan spread his hands and nodded, like he was being held at gunpoint. "Fine. I'm gone." He brushed off his lapels, looked at Ororo and offered her a smile, then turned and began to walk. Glass crunched under his boots as he cut across the manicured lawns and headed for the woods.
"This is the right thing to do, Logan." Cyclops called behind him. "This should've happened long ago."
But he didn't receive a reply. Logan dissappeared into the woods without looking over his shoulder.
Night fell too quickly. The air crackled with anticipation of another storm, and the sticky heat enveloped everything. Most of the students sought refuge in the pool, but Sebastien stayed in his room, stripped down to his boxer shorts. He groaned and threw his arms up over his head. He wanted to beg the heavens to open up, but he didn't think anyone up there would be listening. He wondered why the mansion didnt have climate control in every room as he stared up at the fan that churned the hot air around, making things worse.
Darkness seemed to chase itself at the corners of his eyes, like a playful pet or a menacing warning. He couldnt decide which.
The door opened and jolted the thoughts out of him. Chamber stood in the doorway with light trying feebly to seep into the room all around him. He regarded the lone figure in the doorway before turning his head back to the pillow. "What do you want?" He asked softly.
Chamber looked around the room as if there was a smell he couldnt detect hanging in the air, then shook his head. "Lately," He replied, his voice weaving its way into Sebastien's head. "Things around here have gotten...strange. Before you came there was calm. Everything was predictable. Stable."
Sebastien lifted his head off the pillow and glared at him. "Oh? I am to blame for upsetting this places...balance?"
"Possibly. Though I can't prove it."
"Why are you here right now, Chamber?" Sebastien put the question to him as a challenge. He sat upright drew his knees up to his chin. Chamber shifted from foot to foot, and folded his arms around his waist like it was the only thing that could protect him.
"I think you feel it. Something's not right...The adults...I mean, the team....They're falling apart out there. We almost lost the school and Xavier finally found the balls to do something about it...I honestly think we're not over the worst of it."
Sebastien sat in silence and propped his chin on his knees while he contemplated Chamber's words. Of course he felt it. He couldnt articulate what his feeling meant up until Chamber gave voice to them, but he refused to accept he was the cause of everything. How could one boy bring about such change? How could Chamber know?
"And whatever you've done to this place, its infected me..." Chamber's voice took on a far away distance that chilled Sebastien. "You've invaded my dreams, Sebastien. Everything is crumbling and I dream of you. Is this your power? Jean thinks you're one of us. She thinks maybe telepathy. But I don't think even you know what your power is...What it can do..."
Sebastien felt tears sting his eyes. He looked away and hugged his pillow to his chest. "Tell me what it is if you know," He said softly into the pillow. "Because I want to know how to stop it."
Rain started to fall heavily outside, bringing with it an angry growl of thunder and fingers of lightning scattered across the light grey sky. Chamber looked up and wondered if Storm was responsible. The lights in the hallway flickered as the lightning turned the sky white. The constant tattoo of the rain on the roof was building in intensity.
Sebastien glared at Chamber. "I suppose this is my fault too?" He said mildly.
The lights flickered again, this time straining to stay on...In the hallway lightbulbs popped as the surge continued. Sebastien looked at Chamber's silhouette against the dimming light before the mansion was plunged into darkness.
Jean sat in the kitchen and sipped coffee, bathed in the unnatural blue light of the florescent emergency lamps above. Ororo entered and accepted the mug offered by Jean. "The students are safe," She said as she sat down opposite Jean. "Theyre in good spirits...Most want to know why the backup generator didnt kick in straightaway."
Jean smiled weakly. "I'd like to know that too. We've had power surges here before and it usually starts up within a minute of the primary power failing."
Ororo nodded. "I know. But things fail from time to time. Sometimes they fix themselves."
Jean looked sharply at her friend, whose hair was electric blue in the light. Ororo's eyes took on the sparkling blue also. "You think I could have stopped what happened." It was a statement, not a question. She didnt need her powers to know what Ororo meant.
Ororo sighed. "You could have handled things differently," She answered slowly. "Its not my place to say what is best for you, Jean, but surely you knew this would happen eventually?"
Jena looked into her coffee, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and her face stark white in the light. "I knew it, and I thought I could....Control it.Scott is wonderful, he's a reliable man, and he has a good heart....And Logan is..."
"Something different?"
Jean nodded. "Whatever that something is, it's powerful, and I cant help but feel attracted to it."
Ororo nodded and sighed into her coffee. There was a truth that nobody could deny in Jean's statement. She too, once felt the pull of Logan's charisma, it was inescapable. He was not even aware of his effect on people. She lifted the mug to her lips and looked up at jean, who seemed lost to her contemplation. the darkness around them was unnerving coupled with the silence that filled the room. The wind rustled leaves outside and rain spattered against the window panes. "Do you think we've lost him for good?" Ororo asked.
"I wish I could say. But even with my powers I could never work out what goes on in his mind. I can't read him, but I know him. He doesnt turn his back on friends."
Ororo opened her mouth to speak but turned her head to the window when a sharp click rang through the heavy air. She frowned into the darkness outside, and her eyes widened. She was looking at a black clad figure, holding a rifle, it's laser sight trained on her. She gasped and Jean registered that something was not right, just a split second before the first shot shattered through the glass.
The hit the ground in unison as debris showered around them. Another burst of machine gun fire could be heard in the distance. Jean gave Ororo a frantic look and saw it mirrored in Ororo's face. People were screaming nearby but the hail of bullets kept on coming, mercilessly.
Then, it stopped. The silence fell in around them again and gunpowder hung like a shroud in the kitchen, the blue flurescent light making it look like a living thing. Jean strained to hear something-anything-that might signal another attack, but could hear none. Even the distant screams had ceased. Ororo moved closer to her and whispered, "Why did they stop?"
Jean shrugged her response. Her more immediate question was, who are they? The silence was now giving Jean hope that the attack was indeed over, that perhaps the attack was thwarted befor it began.
No such luck. A silver cylinder came sailing through the broken window and clattered to the ground with a hollow ping. It came to rest a few inches from Ororo's face, and she turned to Jean. "What is it?" Jean asked.
Ororo grabbed her friend's hand in response and hoisted her up into a crouching position, so that they were still sheilded from view of the window. "We have to get out of here," She hissed. "Now!!"
Jean nodded and followed Ororo, still crouching. Ororo looked back once they reached the doorway, then stood up fully. "Run!!" She screamed.
Then, the kitchen exploded into raw fire that seemed to chase them as they ran down the hallway. Explosions all around them shook the mansion and fire spewed forth from almost every open space. Kids were running in every direction, and once they caught sight of Ororo and Jean, ran towards them. A frightened Sam Guthrie gulped for breath in front of Jean. "Ms. Grey! What's going on?'
"I don't know, Sam," She replied, and grabbed him by the arm, motioning for the other students to follow her. The started down a hallway where the fire had not licked its way through, and she punched a code into a panel beside the elevator door. "But for right now, I want you all to get down to the danger room and stay there. Even if this place burns, the danger room will still be intact." She gripped Sam's shoulder and tried to smile encouragingly, but Sam could see the fear in her eyes too.
"Shouldnt we stay here an' fight with you?" He asked. "Thats what we're training for, isn't it?"
"No, Sam, I can't allow it. We need you all to stay safe, because if we can't handle this," She took a breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Who is going to take our place later?"
Sam gave her a confused look. The elevator door slid open and she pushed Sam inside while Ororo ushered the others behind him. "Whatever you do, whatever happens, stay down here. I'm locking down the lower levels." She punched another code into the control panel, and it beeped at her. She looked up at Ororo. "The system is asking me to confirm security lockdown. We've got backup power in the lower levels." She punched the confirmation sequence into the pad and it glowed red, then went blank. "Now, no one is going to touch these kids."
In a plastic holding cell a few hundred feet underground, Erik Magnus Lensherr was allowed few luxuries. Almost anything with a metallic element was forbidden, including belt buckles, wire rimmed glasses, pens, cufflinks and loose change. A television in his cell was out of the question, and so he had to make do with the gaurds' morning paper (After he was finished with it, of course). He sat at his glass and plastic desk with the newspaper opened before him. Earl Landers' confession was a top story, and Erik read the article and following editorial with interest. He looked up and let a broad smile overcome him.
"Oh Charles," He said to the empty cell. "I know you can hear me, even if you don't want to." He paused, allowing the simple truth sink in. "You would have the world believe that we are so different. We argued on this in Egypt all those years ago. Ours was an ideological difference, you said. I told you then, as I do now, that our goals are the same, the only thing that seperates us is our adherence to human law. Perhaps the only difference between you and I, old friend, is that I languish in this plastic cage for my crimes. Your cage will be of your own making."
Then, as though physical distance were nothing, Charles Xavier responded telepathically. "Perhaps, Erik. We are similar in so many ways. If you know me at all you know I will pay the price for my actions with each beat of my heart. I had no choice."
"I know. And Charles?"
"Yes?'
"I'm proud of you."
Jeremiah could hear running just beyond the heavy metal door, could hear men shout up and down the corridors. Something was happening. They were preparing for. The battle that Creed so often prophesized? Could it finally be at hand? Some of Creed's most stirring speeches reffered to a battle, although the references were veiled so that only the true beleivers would understand. Jeremiah counted himself among them.It made his inside ache to think that the time was near and he was no longer among his brothers.
He put his ear to the thick, cool ddoor and listened. He could hear the rythmic sound of metal sliding against metal, boots clanging this way and that, oreders being barked, and he wanted to be a part of it. He didnt want Creed to prevent him from realizing his destiny.
then, as if someone had read his mind, the bolt slid back and the door swung open, flooding the little cell with light. Jermiah held his arm up to sheild his eyes from the blinding white fire. He blinked rapidly at the figure in the doorway, who threw a bundle of clothes at his feet.
"Get ready," The voice said. "You're fighting with us."
"Thankyou for your attentdence here today, Proffessor Xavier."
Xavier inclined his head. He had been summoned to Judge Valery Sinclair's exspansive office when the news broke about Landers' public confession. She sat behind her ornate mahogany desk, fingers laced in front of her, looking at Xavier over her rimless glasses.
"I'm glad you called when you did, your honor."
"I want to be honest with you, Proffessor," She said, taking off her glasses and pinching the bridge of her nose. "And I trust I can speak to you in confidence?"
"Absolutley."
She sighed. "I did not believe Mr. Landers' allegations regarding your school, and I never considered an investigating panel very necessary based on one man's assertions. But we live in strange times, as I'm sure you know, and the political landscape is changing. Graydon Creed had a lot to do with the decision to assemble an investigative panel, and he is a very influential force with a lot of key players. The politics of bigotry rely on uncertainty of the unknown. When I was assigned as chair, I tried to make the panel as diverse and broad as possible, from both ends of the political and social spectrum. I was hoping for the best possible outcome." She paused and leaned back in her chair, smiling slightly. "Now, it looks like the very man responsible for the inquiry is also responsible for its closure. I have dissolved the panel, proffessor, and it looks as if your school is in the clear."
Xavier smiled. "Thankyou, your honor."
Sinclair stood up and walked over to the huge window directly behind her desk, looking out over a picture perfect view. The lake beyond was breathtaking. "Keep doing what you're doing, Proffessor," She said without turning. "Your fledglings are our future. Teach them to resist the flow of hate that seems to grow with every passing year, because that is the way to bring us together."
Xavier was impressed. Sinclair knew of the school's true purpose, a fact that she seemed to mentally supress during the hearings. Perhaps there was more to judge Valery Sinclair than even Xavier could know.
So now Xavier had his conclusion, that his school would be safe and his students protected.
"I fear that my students will be fighting for quite some time yet, your honor."
"You talk about such things as if this were a war."
"Sometimes, it feels like it."
Migraine headaches wreak havok with telepaths. Their powers are disturbed, wekened, or in some cases, blink on and off for hours on end. In Jean's case, her powers weaken to the point where even a faint empathic signal from a passer by is almost impossible. Proffessor Xavier sometimes suffered from this, too, and his only explanation for it was that Migraines attack those parts of the brain vital for telepathic and telekinetic ability.
Jean rubbed her temples and tried to focus on the papers in front of her. At times, when the migraine wasnt as bad, she had to really concentrate on filtering out the different levels of psychic interference that was almost like radio static inside her head.
She sighed heavily and decided to give up on the papers. A loud knock on the door startled her.
"Come in."
The door opened and Logan appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Heard from Charley yet?"
"No. But even if I wanted to I couldnt..." She pinched the bridge of her nose and then buried her face in her hands for a brief second.
Logan nodded his understanding. "You need to take it easy, Jean. All of this stress can't be good for you..."
'Thanks for the concern, Logan, but I'll be fine." Her standoffish tone cut through the air and Logan frowned.
"I know you will."
She looked up at him and smiled wanly. "You havent really been helping matters. You and Scott."
He nodded again. "He doesnt deserve you, Jean..."
She stood up and held up her hand, cutting him off. "I dont need this, right now, Logan..." She said.
"You've always known how I feel. Even if you can't read my mind, you know how I feel."
She lowered her head and said in a barely audible whipser. "Yes, I know."
He walked into the room, and reached out to touch her arm. She moved away, arms still crossed. "He's beneath a powerful woman like you Jean. He hardly understands you..."
"Oh, and you do?"
"More than you know."
She sighed and looked up at him, her green eyes shimmering. "You scared me when you first came here. I didnt like the way you made me feel when you were around..."
"You were scared of me?"
"Scared of myself around you. Sometimes I still am."
He reached out again. This time she didnt shy away. His fingers pressed against her arm and she looked up at him with a veil of red hair framing her face. She could feel the heat of his fingertips through the thin fabric of her blouse, and she let a sigh pass through her open lips. "Logan. this cannot...."
He held a finger up to her lips, and she frowned at him, but before she could protest further, he brought his mouth down over hers and kissed her like she'd never been kissed. She brought her hands up to his shoulders and let herself be dominated by him, by the sheer power of his arms cradling her, struggling not to crush her to him. She yeilded completely.
He paused and drew his lips away from hers, then offered a smile. "Gimme half a goddamn chance, Jean."
She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, her head on Logan's shoulder, but her word were snatched away by the slamming of a door. She looked up to see what the disturbance was, a frown shadowing her face, and she saw Scott standing in the office behind Logan.
Night was fast approaching. The sun hung low in the sky, blood red in colour, turning the sky pink. Chamber sat outside the mansion, on its massive front steps, watching the sun make its low progress. His stomach felt tight and he couldnt shake the feeling that something was brewing. He knew that the adults had been under immense strain lately, and he knew some of it had to do with the love triangle between Cyclops, Jean and Logan. The other students gossiped and speculated on the nature of the triangle. Mostly, the whole issue just bubbled along under the surface, but lately it was being brought into the open. Chamber knew this couldnt be good. Something was wrong. It was heavy in the air.
Sebastien was right. Chamber was afraid. At heart, he was scared that everything stable around him would come crashing down, and he hated Sebastien for making him admit it, and now couldnt keep the boy out of his head.
Creed stood before the assembled troops with his hands clasped behind his back, like some monarch inspecting a brave fighting force. He paced before them slowly, making sure each and every set of eyes followed him. He drew a breath and thrust out his chest. "This is an important day," He said, his voice loud and filling the cavernous room they stood in. "The Friends of Humanity are going to fight for the cause, we are going to smash through the hypocrisy and the lies and burn that mansion and everything it stands for, to the ground. It is our responsibility, because nobody else will do it. It is our burden, and we shoulder it with pride. We have been building up to this day since the foundation of the party, and those who survive will remember it for the rest of their days. You will be considered heroes, my boys, my brothers. The mutie lovers will be silenced by the thunderous roars of approval that will greet us when the American public hears of our endeavours. Our adversaries have an unfair advantage over us, because we are simply clean, whole and true Homo sapiens. They like to call themselves "Homo superior". They are not natural, not part of God's true plan. This is what will give us strength, my brothers. Believe it and we will defeat them." He paused, scanned the faces of the young men before him. "We will destroy them. We will wipe them out, and burn them all to the ground, we will dance on their corpses and drink a toast to our success in the rubble of Xavier's mansion!"
The assembly broke into wild hoots and cheers at this, and creed broke into a wide, satisfied grin. "Thats what I like to hear."
Jean's pulse pounded in her temples as Logan let go of her, his eyes locked on Scott. She placed a hand on his chest fearfully, then looked pleadingly at Scott. For once, she didnt know what he was thinking. His face was carved granite, and his glasses glowed crimson. "No!" She said, and stepped in between the two men. Logan gently placed his hand over hers and moved foward.
"Now you know," He said softly. His eyes blazed with emotion. "Now you know."
Scott nodded. "You've got what you wanted," He replied with an even voice. "Congratulations."
And with that, an optic blast of frightening intensity struck Logan and sent him hurtling through the window behind him.
Ororo looked down at Chamber from her perch atop the belltower, and smiled to herself. She could remember when she would get lost in her thoughts as a teenager. The world seemed so big and scary and full of people that wanted to hurt you, and that feeling is only amplified by being a mutant.
She looked up at the darkening storm clouds that covered the once blue sky, and she could smell the elecrticity charging the air, giving her a delicious thrill. Night time storms were her favorite. She sensed something in the pit of her stomach, like something brewing in the heavens, and she wanted to bring it on, if nothing else to give her a release from the stress of the week.
Suddenly, the mansion shook and the sound of breaking glass jolted Ororo back to reality. It sounded as if Cyclops had blasted a hole through one of the walls. She stood up and called upon the winds to gently lift her up and clear of the belltower, then she willed the winds to take her in the direction of the disturbance. When she reached the source of the explosion, she descended, glass crunching under foot as she touched ground. Logan was lying in the middle of the debris and Cyclops was looking at her through a gaping wound in the side of the mansion, where Charles' office window had once been. Logan was rising slowly, shaking shards of glass out of his hair, looking up with murderous intent at Cyclops. The tiny wounds all over his face caused by the flying debris were healing over already, making him seem all the more dangerous.
Ororo threw a glance at Jean, who stood behind Cyclops with a stricken look on her face. She knew Jean was the cause of this.
"Logan," She said softly. "Now is not the time for this."
Logan looked at her, his blue eyes burning.
"I want you off campus, Logan," Cyclops said, his visor pulsing red. His voice was still a monotone, devoid of anything other than authority.
Logan now stood in front of Cyclops and wiped his mouth. the tiny shards of glass in his hair glittered like diamonds against black velvet. When he turned to look at Jean, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes bored into her for a brief instant, before he turned his attention back to Cyclops. "Don't be stupid," Was all he said.
"I'm not being stupid. I'm being rational. I'm doing what needs to be done," Cyclops replied. His visor glowed red with every beat of his heart. As darkness crept in around them and the sky turned purple, it stood out like a beacon.
Logan shrugged. "It's not your call to make. And I think you're making a big mistake."
"Logan," Cyclops said more forcefully this time, "I want you gone from here."
Logan spread his hands and nodded, like he was being held at gunpoint. "Fine. I'm gone." He brushed off his lapels, looked at Ororo and offered her a smile, then turned and began to walk. Glass crunched under his boots as he cut across the manicured lawns and headed for the woods.
"This is the right thing to do, Logan." Cyclops called behind him. "This should've happened long ago."
But he didn't receive a reply. Logan dissappeared into the woods without looking over his shoulder.
Night fell too quickly. The air crackled with anticipation of another storm, and the sticky heat enveloped everything. Most of the students sought refuge in the pool, but Sebastien stayed in his room, stripped down to his boxer shorts. He groaned and threw his arms up over his head. He wanted to beg the heavens to open up, but he didn't think anyone up there would be listening. He wondered why the mansion didnt have climate control in every room as he stared up at the fan that churned the hot air around, making things worse.
Darkness seemed to chase itself at the corners of his eyes, like a playful pet or a menacing warning. He couldnt decide which.
The door opened and jolted the thoughts out of him. Chamber stood in the doorway with light trying feebly to seep into the room all around him. He regarded the lone figure in the doorway before turning his head back to the pillow. "What do you want?" He asked softly.
Chamber looked around the room as if there was a smell he couldnt detect hanging in the air, then shook his head. "Lately," He replied, his voice weaving its way into Sebastien's head. "Things around here have gotten...strange. Before you came there was calm. Everything was predictable. Stable."
Sebastien lifted his head off the pillow and glared at him. "Oh? I am to blame for upsetting this places...balance?"
"Possibly. Though I can't prove it."
"Why are you here right now, Chamber?" Sebastien put the question to him as a challenge. He sat upright drew his knees up to his chin. Chamber shifted from foot to foot, and folded his arms around his waist like it was the only thing that could protect him.
"I think you feel it. Something's not right...The adults...I mean, the team....They're falling apart out there. We almost lost the school and Xavier finally found the balls to do something about it...I honestly think we're not over the worst of it."
Sebastien sat in silence and propped his chin on his knees while he contemplated Chamber's words. Of course he felt it. He couldnt articulate what his feeling meant up until Chamber gave voice to them, but he refused to accept he was the cause of everything. How could one boy bring about such change? How could Chamber know?
"And whatever you've done to this place, its infected me..." Chamber's voice took on a far away distance that chilled Sebastien. "You've invaded my dreams, Sebastien. Everything is crumbling and I dream of you. Is this your power? Jean thinks you're one of us. She thinks maybe telepathy. But I don't think even you know what your power is...What it can do..."
Sebastien felt tears sting his eyes. He looked away and hugged his pillow to his chest. "Tell me what it is if you know," He said softly into the pillow. "Because I want to know how to stop it."
Rain started to fall heavily outside, bringing with it an angry growl of thunder and fingers of lightning scattered across the light grey sky. Chamber looked up and wondered if Storm was responsible. The lights in the hallway flickered as the lightning turned the sky white. The constant tattoo of the rain on the roof was building in intensity.
Sebastien glared at Chamber. "I suppose this is my fault too?" He said mildly.
The lights flickered again, this time straining to stay on...In the hallway lightbulbs popped as the surge continued. Sebastien looked at Chamber's silhouette against the dimming light before the mansion was plunged into darkness.
Jean sat in the kitchen and sipped coffee, bathed in the unnatural blue light of the florescent emergency lamps above. Ororo entered and accepted the mug offered by Jean. "The students are safe," She said as she sat down opposite Jean. "Theyre in good spirits...Most want to know why the backup generator didnt kick in straightaway."
Jean smiled weakly. "I'd like to know that too. We've had power surges here before and it usually starts up within a minute of the primary power failing."
Ororo nodded. "I know. But things fail from time to time. Sometimes they fix themselves."
Jean looked sharply at her friend, whose hair was electric blue in the light. Ororo's eyes took on the sparkling blue also. "You think I could have stopped what happened." It was a statement, not a question. She didnt need her powers to know what Ororo meant.
Ororo sighed. "You could have handled things differently," She answered slowly. "Its not my place to say what is best for you, Jean, but surely you knew this would happen eventually?"
Jena looked into her coffee, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and her face stark white in the light. "I knew it, and I thought I could....Control it.Scott is wonderful, he's a reliable man, and he has a good heart....And Logan is..."
"Something different?"
Jean nodded. "Whatever that something is, it's powerful, and I cant help but feel attracted to it."
Ororo nodded and sighed into her coffee. There was a truth that nobody could deny in Jean's statement. She too, once felt the pull of Logan's charisma, it was inescapable. He was not even aware of his effect on people. She lifted the mug to her lips and looked up at jean, who seemed lost to her contemplation. the darkness around them was unnerving coupled with the silence that filled the room. The wind rustled leaves outside and rain spattered against the window panes. "Do you think we've lost him for good?" Ororo asked.
"I wish I could say. But even with my powers I could never work out what goes on in his mind. I can't read him, but I know him. He doesnt turn his back on friends."
Ororo opened her mouth to speak but turned her head to the window when a sharp click rang through the heavy air. She frowned into the darkness outside, and her eyes widened. She was looking at a black clad figure, holding a rifle, it's laser sight trained on her. She gasped and Jean registered that something was not right, just a split second before the first shot shattered through the glass.
The hit the ground in unison as debris showered around them. Another burst of machine gun fire could be heard in the distance. Jean gave Ororo a frantic look and saw it mirrored in Ororo's face. People were screaming nearby but the hail of bullets kept on coming, mercilessly.
Then, it stopped. The silence fell in around them again and gunpowder hung like a shroud in the kitchen, the blue flurescent light making it look like a living thing. Jean strained to hear something-anything-that might signal another attack, but could hear none. Even the distant screams had ceased. Ororo moved closer to her and whispered, "Why did they stop?"
Jean shrugged her response. Her more immediate question was, who are they? The silence was now giving Jean hope that the attack was indeed over, that perhaps the attack was thwarted befor it began.
No such luck. A silver cylinder came sailing through the broken window and clattered to the ground with a hollow ping. It came to rest a few inches from Ororo's face, and she turned to Jean. "What is it?" Jean asked.
Ororo grabbed her friend's hand in response and hoisted her up into a crouching position, so that they were still sheilded from view of the window. "We have to get out of here," She hissed. "Now!!"
Jean nodded and followed Ororo, still crouching. Ororo looked back once they reached the doorway, then stood up fully. "Run!!" She screamed.
Then, the kitchen exploded into raw fire that seemed to chase them as they ran down the hallway. Explosions all around them shook the mansion and fire spewed forth from almost every open space. Kids were running in every direction, and once they caught sight of Ororo and Jean, ran towards them. A frightened Sam Guthrie gulped for breath in front of Jean. "Ms. Grey! What's going on?'
"I don't know, Sam," She replied, and grabbed him by the arm, motioning for the other students to follow her. The started down a hallway where the fire had not licked its way through, and she punched a code into a panel beside the elevator door. "But for right now, I want you all to get down to the danger room and stay there. Even if this place burns, the danger room will still be intact." She gripped Sam's shoulder and tried to smile encouragingly, but Sam could see the fear in her eyes too.
"Shouldnt we stay here an' fight with you?" He asked. "Thats what we're training for, isn't it?"
"No, Sam, I can't allow it. We need you all to stay safe, because if we can't handle this," She took a breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Who is going to take our place later?"
Sam gave her a confused look. The elevator door slid open and she pushed Sam inside while Ororo ushered the others behind him. "Whatever you do, whatever happens, stay down here. I'm locking down the lower levels." She punched another code into the control panel, and it beeped at her. She looked up at Ororo. "The system is asking me to confirm security lockdown. We've got backup power in the lower levels." She punched the confirmation sequence into the pad and it glowed red, then went blank. "Now, no one is going to touch these kids."