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Ashes of Chaos: Break of Dawn Part 7
by Jaya Mitai, Mel, and Persephone
Charles Xavier deprived Emma Frost of the opportunity to make the most dramatic entrance possible by waiting until after her arrival to call Jean. This was not exactly premeditated, nor was it completely unintentional. There was a certain advantage to entering such a meeting last, as long as one could carry it off with flair rather than looking like a student called on the carpet.
Xavier half-lidded his eyes as he called to Jean telepathically: #Emma has arrived to discuss Stryfe's disposition after his physical recovery progresses somewhat further. If you and Scott would please join us in my study.# His own telepathy was of course severely reduced, nearly nonexistent, and this was not entirely against his will -- for he feared his own potential for danger if it were returned, and had refused its restoration. As the most powerful telepath remaining in the mansion, however, Jean kept her mind open at a low level to communication from any who knew her and how to get in touch. And he was hardly likely to forget that.
He received a fleeting impression of some dispute involving Henry, Scott, Nathan, Jean, Domino, and food, with the last participant in a central but less active role, before Jean's mental nod and Scott's prompt, and alert, insistence on attending despite her slight expressed reluctance. The two had, Charles was aware, spent much of the previous evening discussing the prospective meeting and probable arguments to be put forth. This made him curious as to the details of how the discussion had gone.
There was another odd impression, one that made Xavier fight a twitching of his lips. Nathan announced loudly and irritably that he'd refused to eat mashed fruits as an infant and was certainly not going back on such a sensible practice in his adulthood; he was promptly and firmly contradicted with varying degrees of cheerfulness. Jean was stifling bittersweet laughter as she left.
Perhaps the maneuver had been subconscious. A full conscious realization of it came to him only with the mild surprise at a very understated deliberacy in Jean's own entrance. It looked perfectly casual; her clothing was itself casual and her manner quite devoid of any intentional overtones of allure or control.
The point was that they weren't needed. Oh, Jean was intrinsically powerful and beautiful, but that was beside the point. She was at home, and she looked it -- and she knew it.
Scott had reached the study earlier while Jean stopped for stated purposes that suggested the dispute over the peaches had not been conducted entirely on the verbal or mental level. Since if either of them had been spattered, however, Scott would seem the more likely candidate, her explanation might have been suspect. In either case, Scott's unstudied and appreciative, if red-concealed, glance towards her was certainly not detrimental to the effect produced by her arrival.
Emma, unfazed, swept onward from the greetings to begin her proposal. "I'm aware Stryfe is currently on Muir Isle under Moira's supervision. When he's sufficiently recovered to be moved, however, I'm sure you'll want to, and I wanted to offer my own facilities and skills now, to conduct the rehabilitation at that time."
"The rehabilitation." That was Scott.
Emma lifted an eyebrow in eloquent surprise. "Of course. I assume the plan is to bring him around... to our side? I know your preference for reforming enemies." She gave Charles a minor smile. "Personally, I might say. I have to approve; it's so much better to have them on one's side...."
Xavier had not allowed the gift of telepathy to rob him entirely, over the years, of the ability to read people in other ways. On the contrary, while minds closed against his own did throw him at times and he was admittedly less confident in his conclusions when he could not confirm them directly, he had used his mutant power systematically and discreetly to decode body language until... well, until he didn't have to guess.
Especially with people he knew well, and had observed and conversed and mindspoken with often, he knew the thought and feeling and impulse behind certain motions or postures or tones, without even having to check.
At least, so he thought. At this point it was the part of wisdom to remind himself that the human mind was capable of nigh-infinite variation and surprise, and that after Onslaught and Bastion, he could not check and would be well advised not to assume too much.
Still, when Jean's gaze sharpened and her back and shoulders stiffened just a bit the way they did at Emma's words, he knew more clearly than words could tell that she'd made the jump: the implication of the use of Emma Frost's facilities and skills was that Emma would run the rehabilitation process herself. And Jean did not like the idea.
"You mean to take Stryfe to the Massachusetts Academy?"
Emma straightened her spine almost imperceptibly, recognizing there was a battle to be joined. "I do have other possible locations, but as I spend the majority of my time there of late, it would be best to stay nearby."
"The Academy would be out of the question!" Scott interrupted. "There are children there; you can't possibly take Stryfe there." The set of his jaw hinted at what his hidden eyes were saying as he turned to Emma and said deliberately, "I'm certain you care too much for the welfare of your students to risk that."
Xavier cut in quickly and as smoothly as he could, while Emma did not -- quite -- flinch but her blue eyes went cold. Scott did not need to be engaging Emma in a war of barbed words. "If you could all set aside the argument for a moment, we might go over the relevant information, which is how I had intended to begin?"
Acquiescence, a little sheepish in cases.
"Thank you." He selected several sheets of paper from his desk, arranged them in order, and tapped the sheaf on the desk, then looked up and around at the other three occupants of the room without consulting the text. "According to Moira's report, Stryfe suffered fewer injuries from the rockslide than Nathan did; however, there was spinal damage requiring surgery, which she performed. I believe the information so far constitutes a review for all parties."
Jean nodded. Scott spoke up. "What about suffocation?"
"She did mention that, but stated that thanks, no doubt, to your intervention, she found no evidence of lasting damage from that cause. She also notes that she has reason to believe the repair was successful and he should be able to move again, but his progress has so far failed to meet her expectations." Xavier kept his voice carefully neutral, betraying none of the mixed but irrelevant emotions stirred in him by discussion of the relative physical and psychological contributions to paralysis. "To be precise, all vital autonomous functions appear to be intact, but he has exhibited no voluntary motion below the neck."
He glanced back at the sheaf of papers in his hand and extracted another. "In addition, assuming the battle had been at least partially psionic led her to perform a few tests on both Cable and Stryfe beyond the conventional ones. I'll get to the unusual one in a moment; first I should note that the CAT scan of Stryfe is tentatively considered to indicate telepathic damage -- there are some characteristics suggestive of burnout by overextension of powers, as well as some resemblance to scans of... what was left of Proteus's hosts." He tapped the papers once against his palm, then added, "Of course, a key difference is that Stryfe is still alive."
"Those could be old," Jean interjected suddenly. "From when Apocalypse tried and failed to possess him, when Stryfe was thirteen. If they're specifically related to possession...."
"I'll look into whether such data is available on any of the Shadow King's hosts." Xavier paused to take a fountain pen from its holder and mark down another largely unnecessary memorandum, this one regarding medical examinations (posthumous, mostly) on Amahl Farouk's victims. "I should probably, however, note that the corresponding areas in Cable's brain appear to be intact; unless there were other mitigating factors, I would have thought Stryfe's time in possession of Nathan's body would have had some similar effect...."
"Not necessarily. I suppose we could check whether there was similar damage in mine, but I don't think Madelyne caused actual damage -- it could be that it makes a difference if both parties are telepaths, or maybe if they're related and therefore on a similar frequency." Jean paused and frowned, looking at Emma. "Then again, there were those incidents with you and Ororo -- and with me and you, for that matter."
Emma nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed there were. And Karma's powers never seemed to leave obvious damage. On the other hand, presumably in any case of possession the possessor wishes to have the body remain usable -- and while Stryfe's mind might not be considered the most healthy, I don't believe we have gathered any evidence that would suggest this stemmed directly from injury to the brain. There might also be differences depending on the level of resistance put forth, as well as the skill level of both individuals.... While very interesting, however, I don't believe this is strictly relevant. Perhaps another time?"
"Thank you, Emma. Perhaps those of you mentioned would be willing to be scanned yourselves, for comparison purposes?" Rather grateful for the voluntary assistance in returning to the topic at hand, Charles laid the pen down and resumed. "Now, a psionic energy scan reveals a pattern which, if overlaid on the results of the CAT scan, could suggest the residue of a directed spike of energy --focused and more intense toward the 'point' based on the residue pattern -- that could have caused some of the damage visible in the CAT. As Cable's telepathy seems intact," Charles and Jean shared a wry look, having felt the effects of this wholeness a few times since, when Nathan had been beyond the convenient distance for yelling at someone, "and the same patterns are not visible on his scans, it is postulated that he may have succeeded in doing some telepathic damage to Stryfe."
"I'm sure," Scott murmured, "that he'd be delighted to know that."
Jean frowned. "Was the psi-energy scan before or after Nate woke up and attacked him again?"
"One of each. There was very little difference. Neither was fully processed until the day after you left, however."
"Why not?" Emma inquired, pale-gold eyebrows drawing together in equal parts disapproval and perplexity. "Moira has the facilities there -- she doesn't like to have the delay of sending off for results, even electronically, if it can be avoided."
No one took the opportunity to ask why exactly Emma Frost would be that familiar with Moira's habits or motives.
"I'm not certain of the usual time requirement," Charles began.
"Hours," Emma informed him briskly. "Not days. I should know; I was involved in the instrument's development. It would extend the time required if she did a full-body scan, which would probably be reasonable given a battle between telekinetics, but the overwhelming majority of the energy residues should still be in the brain. The traces of any attack on the rest of the body would be detectable, but compared to the amount and complexity of those in a brain scan of a psi, they ought to be negligible, especially in terms of computational time." She sat back and crossed one leg over the other. "I suppose the obvious conclusion is that she found something else. What was it?"
"I was," Xavier replied mildly, "just getting to that, though your emphasis on its oddity is appreciated. She found psionic energy distributed through out Stryfe's body -- throughout the nervous system, to be specific, so if it's the result of an attack it was a remarkably directed one. It seems, like that in his brain, to be entirely residual; Moira notes explicitly that there has been no brain activity recorded in the areas believed to be telekinetic control centers."
In Nathan's case, of course, the full-body scan had been dominated by the extraordinary amount of power, past and present even in his injury, devoted to restraining the techno-organic virus. Xavier could not, however, think of any purpose to be served by bringing this up at the moment.
"So to put it briefly," Scott summarized, "Stryfe doesn't have his powers and likely never will, and can't move voluntarily below the neck but might recover from that. And there are some very strange psionic phenomena, but that's the clear part right now."
"Correct. I would further add that Moira strongly suspects his current paralysis to be more psychological than physical, and knowing the strength of the mind-body connection -- especially in psis -- is cautiously optimistic about his recovery in that respect." Charles paused, laid the papers back down, and steepled his fingers, gaze touching each of the other three in turn. "Emma precipitated this admittedly necessary discussion by inquiring into our plans for Stryfe. It is probably time -- past time -- to determine exactly what those are."
There was a brief silence. "We can't leave him with Moira," Scott began after a moment. "That's a given."
"I am inclined to agree," Xavier acknowledged, with a certain feeling of relief, "despite the excellent medical care she can offer. That care's success could in itself make him a danger to her."
"The author of Legacy is not already a danger to her?" Emma murmured.
"A further danger, then." Xavier frowned. "Also, perhaps, depending on one's perspective, this introduces either a conflict of interest or an ulterior motive for her aid."
Emma shrugged. "Then again, what better one than to protect the rest of the world from him?"
"That," Scott said quietly, startling them all with his next words, "could be accomplished by imprisoning him."
Charles contemplated his student for a moment. This was not, despite longstanding bad feeling between Stryfe and his assorted near relatives (not to mention the X-Men as a group), a solution he had expected Scott to propose.
"True," Emma replied slowly. Xavier decided to allow the conversation to proceed as it would for the moment, partly because at this point he was uncertain where it was going. "But that assumes," she went on, "that the prison in question would hold him once he recovered -- or were you not planning to let him?"
"You know us better than that, Emma." Scott's voice was sharp. "But no matter what we do, he'll have to be confined at least temporarily. That's one thing I seriously doubt the Massachusetts Academy is equipped to handle."
"For a moment I thought you were proposing to turn him in for prosecution." Emma spoke almost silkily by comparison to Scott's harshness; it was obvious Scott was less than happy with what he was saying.
A heavy sigh. "Maybe we should, but our own situation with respect to such official channels is... tenuous. Besides, he's officially dead, and while we know of his crimes since his supposed death, proving either his involvement with Legacy or his assault on Nathan would present its own complications."
"You don't have to defend that position to me, Scott. I've thought through those difficulties myself, believe me," Emma replied soothingly. "Let me reiterate, I fully agree with the decision to give him a chance, among ourselves -- I would even go so far as to say that this may be the perfect opportunity. This... this being rendered helpless, at the mercy of those he has tried his hardest to make his enemies... may strike to the core of his being as surely as...." She looked down, twisting elegant hands, and finished quietly, "as losing my students did to me."
"Which makes me wonder," Jean said into the ensuing silence, not harshly, "why you'd suggest removing him from those of us he actually holds a grudge against -- for not looking after him when he was helpless and in need of care before, as a child."
"I gather you would prefer to have Stryfe transferred here, then?" Emma replied, all cool ivory self-possession again. Almost. "I'm not certain placing him in the midst of the X-Men would be conducive to recovery, either -- although I'll admit it would perhaps be safer than leaving him on Muir."
Scott frowned. "And certainly safer than trying to keep him in the vicinity of the high school. Still, it's not likely to be safe for Jean to be in extended contact with him -- even if his powers never do come back."
"It would be even less safe for Moira," Xavier pointed out gently. "She is not a telepath; she has less power and less training to protect herself from psionic assault. She is not a telekinetic, to hold off an opponent either telekinetic or much stronger physically than she. Jean is both."
"With all due respect, I'm not sure that would be the main factor. Ability to fight back, that is." Scott took a deep breath before answering the inquiring looks. "Unless we assume that Legacy is... somehow individually targeted, we have no evidence that Stryfe bears Moira any specific ill will. If Stryfe becomes capable of a major attack, which for certain purposes we have to assume he will, Jean and I are the ones he holds a grudge against. For abandoning him."
"He knows he's not Nathan now, though," Jean protested instantly.
"Somehow I doubt the resentment would have dissipated entirely," Xavier pointed out to her, ready to play devil's advocate to every side if need be.
"No. No, it wouldn't." Jean leaned forward, eyes hot. "You're right about that. But what are you suggesting we do to protect ourselves from that -- abandon him again?"
"It would hardly be abandonment," Emma replied imperturbably. "Merely an acknowledgement that another might be more qualified, in skill and experience, to conduct telepathic therapy. You are, of course, aware that Charles has experience in the matter as well, but I am far more likely to understand him. In fact, as you say he grew up in Apocalypse's court... well, I can easily imagine a certain thematic similarity to the Hellfire Club."
Jean's eyes grew harder. "Yes. So can I, and I've had telepathic impressions of both places. All things considered, I don't think restoring the atmosphere of his childhood is really likely to help matters, Emma."
She stood up. "This seems to be hard for some people to remember -- all right, I'll admit it, I've been one of them sometimes -- but Stryfe's our son too." She looked towards each of them in turn, her gaze moving to Scott with no softening. "He's as much my son as Nathan is, even if Nathan's the only one I raised. If I'm claiming one of Madelyne's children, in all fairness it has to be both -- and Stryfe claimed me."
"I understand that," Emma conceded, "but Jean, surely you can't have majored in psychology without realizing that while receiving counsel from a trusted family member is one thing, and may be a very good one, objective counseling in the therapeutic sense from a family member is nearly impossible even in the best of circumstances."
"I'm not saying I'd do the psychotherapy. I'm not qualified, anyway, though Charles is. I'm saying Stryfe should be here, with me and Scott, where we can prove we're going to fulfill our obligations."
"And if those obligations prove to include imprisoning him, at least at first? Do you need him blaming you for that?"
It was time to draw this toward a close. No solution was entirely satisfactory, but a compromise of sorts was possible and perhaps would even create the best available option.
"Nevertheless," Xavier interjected quietly, "the points are well taken that the Massachusetts Academy is as untenable as leaving Stryfe on Muir Isle. I think that ultimately, despite its disadvantages, we had best bring him here when he begins to become more of a threat."
Emma frowned, ever so slightly. "And that would be?"
"An appropriate marker might be mobility. When he can walk around a room unaided, perhaps -- or failing that, when he can propel himself independently by whatever compensatory means may have been adopted."
The latter, based on Moira's reports, was relatively unlikely; she clearly thought that Stryfe would either recover control of all normal voluntary functions -- or none, in the event that he failed to make the attempt at all.
"It does make sense," Scott admitted. "Muir probably is better for him in terms of beginning physical recovery -- though I hate leaving the burden on Moira for so long."
"She's offended enough at the suggestion of removing him at all, actually," Charles replied ruefully. "Perhaps it won't be that long, however, if he begins responding soon. I don't think we've chosen an overly ambitious marker -- though I admit that Nathan's more energetic state currently presents the somewhat attractive possibility of his operating primarily elsewhere by the time Stryfe is brought here."
Scott's expression, the set of his mouth, grew troubled. "We're not trying to get rid of Nate."
"Of course not!" Charles hastened to reassure him. "I meant nothing of the sort. Simply that, given their intense animosity, having the one recovered before the other arrives is not an undesirable outcome."
Scott nodded slowly.
Xavier went on, with a nod to Emma. "Of course, we'll evaluate Stryfe's psychological state at that time, and I'd appreciate it greatly if you would still make yourself available as his therapist."
He knew it would be less convenient for her than having her patient close by, but he simply would not place Stryfe at a school full of teenagers. Besides, it was true that many of Stryfe's psychological problems seemed to be rooted in his relationship -- or lack thereof -- with Scott and Jean.
Furthermore, while he had no doubts regarding Moira's skills or trustworthiness, he was intensely reluctant to inflict on an already overworked friend all the work and all the complications Stryfe would inevitably introduce.
"You and Moira may wish to correspond regarding him in the meantime." He actually had the distinct impression that neither woman precisely wanted to talk to the other at all, but had discovered enough advantages to combining their skills that they did so nonetheless.
"And what are you planning to do regarding Moira's safety? I can see you scheming about bodyguards...."
"Perceptive of you, Emma. I was about to raise the question of who might be appropriate."
"With all due respect," Scott began, "I'm not sure any of us is best equipped to choose right now. Even as long as you, especially, have known her, I'd still be inclined to put the question to someone who's more familiar with how she's been doing lately. From the perspective of having lived with her."
"As I somehow doubt you're suggesting we consult Rahne, whom do you have in mind?" Xavier inquired with a smile. He hid the twinge at the idea that he no longer was one of those who knew Moira best; for all his past history with her and the things he knew that almost no one else did, he still had been less in contact with her of late and was determined to be open to suggestions regarding helpful and compatible safeguards.
Jean cracked a smile. "Well, consulting Rahne wouldn't hurt considering she has to live with the bodyguard too. Keep in mind, she wouldn't exactly be ineffective herself -- at least as long as Stryfe doesn't have his powers."
"Which does us little good if he does," Xavier remarked, "however uncertain the prognosis on that front. I'd prefer to have someone there with a distance attack at any time that so much as begins to become an issue."
"From what I heard from Alex about X-Factor, Rahne was doing pretty well." Scott reasserted his presence in the conversation. "From Kurt about Excalibur, too -- and he's the one I think we should talk to. Not that he could go himself; he's probably busy and might not be best suited, but he led Excalibur while they were on Muir. If I know Kurt, he can probably name the members who got along best and worst with Moira, who might be available, useful, and willing for this, who would and wouldn't be tempted to carry out a vigilante execution -- and importantly, he'd probably still be able to get in touch with all or most of them even now they've disbanded."
"He would, wouldn't he?" Emma mused.
Charles nodded. "I'll ask his thoughts on the matter, then."
* * * * * * *
Stryfe tried to relax shoulders that he was becoming more and more aware of as time went on. And with that returning sensation the pain was intensifying. He knew full well why it hurt and how he could alleviate it, but he couldn't find the energy. Those first few feeble moves would only show Moira how weak he really was. And increase the torment.
And he was finding out on a first-hand basis how utterly exhausting the constant discomfort truly was. He was starting to gain a healthy respect for how well Dayspring had held out, considering his pain was far worse than this, and his time with Stryfe had been as long. How he welcomed the light opiate that she added to the fresh bags of hydrating chemicals; it eased just a little of the pain, just for a while, and let him sleep.
Just for a while. And then he grew more aware of it, and it would rouse him from restless dreams and trap him in a wakefulness that was almost worse than the affliction he was causing himself by refusing to move.
He ached to stretch out, to move off his back, to simply move. He knew his metabolism was faster than average, even with his stillness, and he knew that his body was taking itself apart in order to fuel its cells. He also knew that medicine in the twentieth century was far too primitive to administer the necessary nutrients without hideous damage to the thin walls of his circulatory system, and without eating, without exercise, there was nothing that could prevent the deterioration of his muscles.
He had no use for them. He would never again have the ability to move himself around, never well enough to take care of himself. Never have the ability to escape their prisons, their cells, never have the ability to read their thoughts, keep anything from them. The struggle would only cause him more pain, more suffering that he was simply not willing -- or able -- to bear. Not without breaking.
And he was not going to break.
One of them had come back into the room. He kept his eyes closed. She was too loud to be the younger, the shape-shifter, which meant it was Moira. To nag him to eat and drink, to force him to move, to mock him.
And he was too tired.
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