Flickering Souls

Chapter Seven: Manipulation

Kurt stood in the darkness of the vault. In the movies, bank vaults were well lit and spacious. In real life they're dark and crammed full of bank property. They are at night, anyway.

He held his lantern out in front of him.

Jean hovered, swathed in shadows, opening only the most valuable of the safety deposit boxes.

Come on. Come on! He thought. She's been getting slower and slower lately. She's … He stood up straighter with the realization. She's slipping!

He took a deep breath and covered his thoughts. She was occupied now, but in a moment she would sense his thoughts if he let them linger.

He turned his mind to his newest pastime; Dwelling on sexual thoughts of Jean.

Most times she would cop an attitude and close her mind to him. This was, in fact, mostly what he wanted. Occasionally he would realize that she was indulging in his thoughts and reveling in them as flattery. This was far more rare.

Then … He smiled to himself, watching the boxes pop open. There's always the possibility of a type-three situation …

Originally, the 'type three encounter' was a scenario that Kurt had developed in order to keep such thoughts, which served as a mental mask, safely in place.

A type three encounter would involve Jean's reveling … Stirring her to action.

Thus far, the type-three situation had failed to arise. But it was still an attractive possibility in Kurt's mind.

Jean lowered herself slowly to the ground. For a moment she looked guilty and caught. Kurt noticed but didn't dwell on it. He kept his thoughts in type-three mode.

Jean smiled wistfully. "Kurt. Get your mind on the job." She prodded.

He could feel her pulling her thoughts back.

Paranoid freak. Kurt thought. Have to check every time, don't you?

And Kurt knew why she had to check and double check everyone. Because she was completely untrustworthy and assumed the world was the same way.

She looked damn guilty. Maybe it's her conscience that's making her slip …

Kurt crept along the wall, emptying the boxes.

And in a veek veel be broke again … Kurt sighed. If only there was a way to just … go home and relax. Let Mezmero raise Apocalypse. Ve can be Gods vhen he's done.

He turned and watched Jean reaching out behind her. He was supposed to teleport them out now. He went to step forward but felt a large metal handle poke him in the chest.

Vat da hell? He thought, wrapping his hand around the handle. And the handle caught in like an electric current. He couldn't move. He could see the X-Men in their jet, winging in to intercept them. He could see that they were going to arrive too late.

Unless … He pushed the handle forward on instinct and he could feel the time slipping by around him.

Kurt didn't know why his prayers were being answered or why they were taking such a strange route to manifestation. But he had questioned very little of late. That didn't mean he wouldn't press this to his full advantage.

Kurt threw the handle forward with all his might, sensing that time was now racing about his ears. And then he was hit with another set of images. He was changing the future. A million things that should have happened wouldn't now.

And Kurt didn't care. He felt the handle stop with a solid 'click'. And the last image appeared to him. It was Rogue. She was destined to have a mad and torrid love affair with a man named Abair.

Now, it wouldn't happen.

"Damn." Kurt said out loud. I'm sorry …

"What?" Jean whipped her head around.

Just then the door of the safe blew open in to the vault.

The handle vanished from his hand and so did Kurt's memories of the world that was undone.

Jean spun on them as the dust cleared. Her eyes were wild. She felt like a cornered animal.

Kurt opened his eyes extra wide and let them glaze over just a touch. For the dramatic effect. He had a plan.

Knowing full well that he would never make it, Kurt launched himself at Professor Xavier. The whole time focusing his thoughts on Mezmero's face and thinking the word 'kill' in Mezmero's voice.

Jean looked half shocked to see Kurt launch at Xavier.

Escape! You IDIOT! She thought.

She knew they were in trouble when halfway to Xavier, Kurt fell limp in midair. Scott dove in to catch him.

Jean felt Xavier's attention turn to her. She tried to run and tried to fight, but he was clouding her mind and suppressing her powers. Jean finally managed to take three steps toward the hole in the wall.

The bank was surrounded on the outside but only a select few x-men had entered.

"Nighty-night!" Rogue slipped up on Jean from out of the shadows and caught her in a chokehold from behind. Rogue had wrapped her hand across Jean's face.

Suddenly, Rogue tasted Xavier through her contact with Jean. She didn't understand it, but she could tell it was an oppressive presence.

Rogue tried to pull away and to break the contact. But … Jean bit her; hard and on the arm. And she wouldn't let go.

"Damn it!" Rogue said, although to her it sounded like Xavier's voice. And she punched Jean in the back of the neck, at the base of the skull, throwing her forward.

"Rogue?" Xavier asked concerned.

"Ah'm okay. Ah just got …" She looked down at Jean. She had collapsed and lost consciousness.

"Kurt?" Rogue spun to look over her shoulder.

Scott was kneeling over Kurt's body. Kurt looked comfortably asleep. He was even smiling.

"He's fine Rogue." Scott told her in a confident tone.

She smiled at Xavier. "We got 'em."

Kurt groaned and stirred slightly as Scott was picking Jean up off the ground.

"Kurt?" Rogue asked hesitantly as she watched his eyes flutter open.

"Scott!" Kurt barked the word as his eyes flew open. "Something's wrong! I …" He looked at Rogue and then around the room. "Vat da …"

"It's okay Kurt." She smiled. "You're okay now. But you've been missing for months."

"Months?" Kurt looked at her in disbelief. Vas it really dat long?

A great cheer went up and circled the bank when they came out – Kurt on his feet and Jean in Scott's arms. It was the end of a nightmare for most everyone involved. But for a rare and select few the nightmare was just beginning.

Elsewhere …

Wanda cursed softly under her breath.

"What the hell was that all about?" She demanded of The Author's captive form.

She waved a hand and the wooden vines that covered his mouth retreated up his face to cover his eyes.

"Explain this!" She demanded.

""Explain what?" He asked cautiously

"I've been writing myself a nice little family reunion and instead I find all this drivel about bank vaults and cheering x-dweebs."

"Ahhh." The Author smiled "Chapter Seven"

"What?" She asked, dumbfounded.

"Well, I write the chapters out of sequence – as they occur to me, you know. And then I string them together to make a story – filling in the gaps as I go." He swallowed quickly.

"And that's what's happening? All your bits are being strung together?" She growled loudly. "The what good is this to me?" She reached out with one hand and the building began to shake while the walls began to quiver.

"Look a the screen!" He told her out of self-defense. "LOOK AT THE SCREEN!"

The screen read : LOOK AT THE SCREEN!

The Author felt the quaking stop and he relaxed slightly.

"Okay." She said as the words appeared. "Why is it working now and not before?" She demanded, picking up the keyboard.

"It's the end of the chapter. So our stories aren't conflicting. You could add something now if you wanted." He felt sweat running down his forehead but couldn't move to wipe it away.

"I can, can I?" She asked, seating herself at her desk.

"So long as you get it done before the chapter ends. Yeah." He smiled slightly. All I have to do is last out until the end of the story. When it's over – I'm out of here – just like always.

He smiled again. Hey … he thought. I wonder if the X-Men will save me in the last few chapters. They're due here in chapter eighteen.

And after all – Chapter Seven was already over.