Flickering Souls
Chapter Six: A Reversal of Fortune
Life at the mansion was thrown in to chaos. Tracking Jean and Kurt had become a constant preoccupation for some of the residents.
They almost had them when they stole the third ring that opened the first door of Apocalypse.
And again when Magneto was duped in to destroying the spider guardian and opened the second door.
Both times they were flanking Mezmero and covering his escape. Then the contact became erratic. Cerebro detected them in different locations and correlated them with robberies and thefts that related in no way to Apocalypse and his doors.
Rogue watched Scott stare down in to the monitor.
"She's really lucky you know." Rogue said at last with an envious tone.
Scott looked up and discovered that they were alone. They had ended many nights like this; Refusing to give up and hoping each moment that the case might break and they could find their friends.
More often than not it was they that broke instead of the case. And the other was always there, supportive and understanding in a way that no one else could be. Rogue, looking for her brother and Scott looking for his girl.
But the time and distance had taken its toll on both of them. And so, they became each other's strength.
"Jean." Rogue continued. "She's really lucky to have you looking for her." She nodded. "Every time I run out of steam, I look up and there you are, still going strong."
Scott smiled down at her. She looked exhausted. He smiled and she could suddenly see it in his face. He was exhausted too.
"No luckier than Kurt." He whispered it quietly. He knew she was still touchy about having ignored Kurt's advances toward considering themselves 'family'. And Scott was well aware that Kurt's absence had pained her as though they were truly related.
She smiled slightly.
"I've been thinking, Rogue…" Scott looked longingly at her. That maybe you and I could…
He searched for just the right words. How could he tell her that he had come to admire her strength and her grace under pressure? That the last few months had shaken his conviction and his faith; and that she had slowly begun to replace the missing parts of his soul?
How do you tell a friend that they are a part of your heart? Or that you ache for them in all the quiet moments that are yours alone?
Just then Cerebro went mad.
"Kurt!" Rogues eyes flew open and she dove toward the monitor, now fully awake and aware.
"And Jean!" Scott said, rising to see the second blip form on the screen.
"They're robbing a bank." Rogue observed. "After Hours."
"Where?" The Professor rolled in, obviously in response to the alarm.
"An hour South." Scott read the telemetry
"Well then," The Professor turned to face Scott. "Ready the Jet."
And the mansion went mad with activity. Every Mutant on the property, tested or not, was uniformed and called to the ready.
"This time." Xavier told them en route. "We bring them home."
And a dozen heads nodded appreciatively. Enough was – enough.
Meanwhile in another part of the story …
What? The Author thought upon hearing the elevator outside. I don't have any appointments left for today.
But none the less, the elevator was rocketing to the top floor.
So help me, if Tolansky is playing with my elevator again I'll …
The author got up and began to cross the room.
The bell sounded and he heard his assistant speaking softly. Someone spoke back and for a moment, his intercom buzzed, but no message followed.
The author reached out and opened the door.
"Wanda!" He breathed the word in disbelief.
And that was all the time she needed. Her hand shot out before her and The Author was blown across the room. He hit the red brick wall and slid down to the floor.
His eyes shot to the computer on the desk.
Damn! He thought, realizing his mistake. I wrote it with a keyboard!
He threw himself to his feet and tried to lunge toward the computer, to turn it off and break it's connection to the outside world.
But the hardwood floors beneath him rippled and swelled then formed vines that wrapped his form in place as they grew over him with a great ripping noise.
Wanda reached out with her mind and could feel The Author. Not just the small and fragile mask that she had ensnared in vines, but the essence and the being beyond.
With a ferocious rush of anger she took hold of his mind and drew it along with her back towards the room.
And then, it was as though she had done it. A rush of crackling energy filled the room and was quite obviously flowing directly in to The Author.
Blood ran from Wanda's nose as she tried not to comprehend the alien mind, just force it in to its vessel.
"Gotcha!" She breathed at last, her eyes wild and her red hair glistening beneath the black and matching the blood running over her lips.
And she raised her hand before he could raise protest. "Sleep now." She said before concentrating a burst of energy at his head and watching him pass out.
Briefly, Wanda swayed in place. She wiped her nose on her sleeve and wavered from side to side as she took The Author's chair.
She smiled and swallowed once. "Now." She said to herself. "Time to write myself a story."