Flickering Souls
Chapter Ten: Glimpses of the Future
Scott jumped in to Kurt's room and closed the door behind him. "Kurt! Listen I … Is that incense?"
Kurt stood in a momentary shock. He was sure he had locked the door. "Ja." He said slowly. "It's called Nag Champa. It's made in India."
Kurt began straitening up just a bit. "Is somethinnk wrong?"
"Yes! No .. I …" Scott stood for a flustered moment before casting his eyes down.. "Go look in my room." He said slowly, opening the door.
"Ahh, Ja. But lets not stink up the place, hunh?" Kurt pulled Scott out in to the hall and closed his door behind them.
"I don't know." Scott said. "I kind of liked the incense myself."
Kurt smiled just a bit as the slipped down the hall and he opened Scott's door.
Kurt stepped inside while Scott hesitated in the hall outside.
Wolverine passed at the end of the hall and looked at Scott.
Scott looked back and wolverine sniffed twice in his direction then cocked his head to one side as if questioning something.
Scott smirked at him out of curiosity and then followed Kurt in to his room and closed the door.
"Hunh." Logan shook his head slightly. "Who would have thunk it?"
Inside the room, Kurt and Scott were circling a large metal switch that was coming out of the floor.
"Vhen did you put this in?" Kurt asked curiously.
"I didn't." Scott told him. "It wasn't there this morning when I woke up." He added. "Or when I came up to change clothes after Storm drenched us on the Confidence Course at noon."
Kurt checked his watch. It was one fifteen.
"I've been in my room since then. I didn't hear anyone installing it either." Kurt considered.
"And for once you weren't blaring your Hendrix." Scott volunteered.
Kurt smiled slyly. "Vat can I say? Old American rock was popular in Germany vhen I vas growing up." He shrugged. "But I was listening to the birds outside for most of today." He eyed the heads of the bolts that held the huge and heavy switch in place. He tried to turn one experimentally.
"Ach. You'd need a giant ratchet or an air gun or something." He sat back on his haunches. "Vat do you think it does?"
"As soon as I saw it …" Scott swallowed. "I thought I recognized it."
Kurt looked it over carefully. "It is kind of … familiar?" He looked to Scott. "Was there one like it in the bank vhen you found us?"
Scott looked truly confused.
"No. Not that I remember." He said carefully. "But … When I saw it, my knee began to throb."
Kurt looked quizzical.
"And then I remembered, when I caught Jean leaving, the first night Mezmero grabbed you two … My knee hurt. I woke up, and found myself standing right here. " He stepped up next to the switch. "And I was wondering why my knee hurt."
Kurt considered. "Almost like you walked in to it because it isn't normally there?"
"Thank you!" Scott smiled and gestured with his hands. "I thought I was nuts."
"Don't rule anything out." Kurt smiled at him and gave him a soft nudge with his elbow.
Scott smiled slyly and spoke in a knowing tone. "Touch it."
Kurt reached out for the handle.
"Just don't shift it." Scott cautioned. "Just touch it and then let go."
Kurt looked at Scott and then back to the switch. He tentatively one of his thick fingers on top of the handle.
And the current flowed through him carrying images directly in to his mind.
He saw himself as he was, happy, thriving at the mansion. It was a scene of his past. It was Rogue waking him from a dream and vaguely he recalled something about wanting to understand his mother.
Then the images shifted. It was himself at the mansion. It was Christmas and he saw himself seated beneath the tree with Scott and Rogue while Xavier looked on. He looked like he did in the past; alive and vibrant.
He longed to be that innocent and clean again.
Kurt pulled his hand back confused. He knew that last scene had never happened.
"Vat vas that?" Kurt asked.
"Did you see us out partying?" Scott asked.
"Vat?" Kurt shook his head. "No. I saw … A Christmas tree. We were sitting near it I think."
"But you did want to push it forward, right?" Scott asked.
"Ja!" Kurt exclaimed. "It was an impulse or a desire."
Scott nodded while Kurt considered.
"If this has happened before …" He considered. "If it's something that happens from time to time …"
Scott smiled slyly again. "What do you remember now Kurt?"
"Hunh?" Kurt looked back to Scott and realized …"You're right!" He breathed. "I'm forgetting it already!"
"I wrote mine down." Scott smiled smugly.
Score one for anal guys everywhere. Kurt thought silently.
"So vhatever it is … it happens and we forget it?" Kurt guessed.
"I think so." Scott conceded.
"So what are you going to do?" Kurt asked.
"I thought I would throw the switch." Scott told him. "I sure want to when I'm touching the handle. I just thought someone else should know what was going on. You know, just in case."
Kurt nodded slowly.
"And I don't know for sure that Logan or the Professor would let me …" He smiled slyly and looked at the crumpled paper in his hand.
The paper read; I see myself talking to a man with glasses, then laughing with Kurt in a bar and finally … kissing Rogue.
Scott blushed slightly.
"So shift it already." Kurt smiled. "I can't wait to see what happens."
And Scott took hold of the handle and slowly shifted it forward. The room began to spin around them, faster and faster until it became a blur, and then a whirlwind. They understood that months were flying by and that reality was reordering itself. Kurt flew off in to the whirlwind and vanished.
The whirlwind turned black and Scott stood alone in the darkness with the handle. He felt it click and then vanish from his hand.
Dim lights appeared around him. They illuminated a crowded room of people. Some were drinking. Many were laughing.
Scott crossed the bar with the pitcher in one hand and two empty glasses in the other. He eased around the table and sat next to Kurt.
"How did I let you talk me in to this?" Scott asked him.
"It took two seconds to convince you to go for this Summers." Kurt smiled and took an empty glass from Scott. "Fill me up." He grinned.
Scott smiled, shook his head and poured the beer. What the hell? Scott thought It is Christmas vacation.
Wanda blinked three times, quickly. There was a large and open door racing very quickly at her. Strangely enough, it was attached to a wall.
"What?" She wondered out loud. We had a few drinks … I signed a … Did I sign a contract?
She shook her head to try and clear it. I did. I signed a contract that said … something …
A dull roar had been filling her ears but she had really just noticed it. It seemed to accompany the rushing of the open door towards her.
She looked over her shoulder and saw The Author smile down at her.
"Hands and feet inside the car at all times." He told her playfully.
She pulled in, reflexively as he spoke. How can he look so sober? She wondered.
The Author stopped his run towards the door and let go of the chair.
Wanda, seated in the chair, was rolling across the hardwood floor towards the door with an almost perfect precision.
As the chair reached the door, the large plastic casters on the bottom of the chair caught on the threshold of the door and catapulted her out in to the snow beyond.
Wanda looked up. She was confused, befuddled and cold.
"What?" She demanded, looking back toward the door.
Although the door appeared now, not to be in a wall, but free standing in the middle of Bayville.
The Author smiled through the doorway.
"It's all here Wanda." He patted the contract in his pocket. "Signed, sealed, and delivered."
He looked far too smug for her taste.
"You wanted your own story. A chance to kill your father." He smiled. "And you didn't want to wait."
She remembered that much.
"So you threw me in the snow." She said, hauling herself up to her feet.
"No." He smiled. "I sent you one year in to the future."
She looked around. There had been changes. The donut shop was closed and the windows were boarded up. The corner store even had gas pumps now. Things were different.
"A year?" She looked around carefully. He said things would have progressed normally. I'm the one out of time here …
"Yep. And you've got three days to kill him, or else you get sent right back here and the whole event never happened." He smiled at her knowingly. "But, if you do kill him, you live on from this point and it can't be undone. Just as we discussed."
She could almost recall hammering out a contract. Almost …
"And you'll help me, right?" She shivered once in the cold. "You're supposed to support me, no matter what, right?"
The Author pulled out the contract. "It reads" He began "The Author shall support Wanda Maximoff in all her endeavors over the three day period of the contract." He smiled at her. "And I will." He assured her.
She distrusted him. He looked sneaky. Like he's up to something …
"Good luck." He said tauntingly and he slammed the door between them and it vanished from her sight.
The Author turned around, smiling to himself. After all, he wasn't sure that Synthahol, borrowed from a Star Trek universe would work in an X-world. But work it did. Drink all you want and sober up on demand. He laughed out loud. That's good stuff.
Try and take over my story, hah!
He smiled to himself while remaining secretly relieved that he still had his skin.
(A note from THE AUTHOR: Look for the ongoing saga of Wanda in her own story as she comes to realize what a difference a year can make when she goes after Magneto and discovers she's have to go through herself to get there. It's Angry Wanda vs Brainwashed Wanda in the battle for Magneto's life – Coming Soon - And for Christmas!)