Chapter 8: Megan and Josh

The machines beeped in a regular pattern, assuring those watching that the young woman was indeed still alive. However, the machine that monitored her brainwaves was flat and unresponsive, though Hank could occasionally see a tiny spike of something happening in her mind, though these spikes were few and far between. The monitor watching over her children stayed steady and constant as the babies went about the business of getting bigger and bigger in her stomach.

Logan sat by her bed constantly, watching the monitors, holding her hand and staring into those wide-open blank eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. He talked to her, hoping that it would bring her out of her coma; for coma it was, one so profound her body wasn't responding to normal stimuli.

A week went by, and there was no change. Xavier, at first content to allow her to come out of it herself, grew worried, and one evening as Logan sat beside Sara's bed and talked to her softly, he and Jean came down to see them. "Is there any change?" Charles asked Logan.

"No," he said sadly. "'S like she ain't even there, Charles, her body's here but her spirit, the part o' her that makes Sara herself, ain't there anymore. Normally I can feel her through our telepathic link, but right now I can't even sense her, though her shields are wide open."

"We're going to see what we can do about that, Logan." Charles grasped Sara's hand in his, closing his eyes, letting himself slip through the portal to Sara's mind and seeing what was in there.

Nothing. He hung in a vast, dark, unbroken void, lifeless and silent. There was no sense of Sara anywhere. Sara! he 'yelled' telepathically, turning to see if he could find her. Sara!

Deep down in the furthermost recesses of that mind, a small spark stirred and listened to the voice. It thought it knew that voice, and a vague memory arose, of kindness, caring, and a fatherly sort of pride. It was about to stir itself, and go find the source of that voice, when it suddenly remembered something else. That voice had been, most recently, raised in a cruel laugh as the owner of the voice savaged its body. It whimpered and fled further into the dark recesses of its mind, fleeing the pain it believed would follow.

Xavier hung in the featureless void, calling repeatedly for the young woman he was trying to reach, trying to call the mind back into the body, staying there until he was in danger of falling deep into that mind and never finding his way back. He broke the link, sagged back into his hoverchair, and covered his eyes with his hand, shoulders bowed in sorrow.

"She's not there," he murmured to Logan, who was hovering and waiting for news. "I can't find her. I called and called and called, and I couldn't get to her. Either she's there and doesn't want to come out, or she's gone…" He swallowed the sobs that threatened to close his throat.

"She's gone?" Logan sank back into his chair, numb. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't. It couldn't end like this, not again. All the women he'd loved, all the ones he'd ever cared for; Mariko, Silver Fox…and now Sara. He'd loved them all, mourned each one. But Sara was different. Sara carried his children. She couldn't die. She couldn't. "Charles," he whispered, a thought growing in his head, "Maybe if I went in there an' called, maybe she'd come back. She loves me, an' through our bond I could maybe find her where ya can't."

Xavier gathered himself for the attempt. "Let's try." He pulled Logan into a meld with him, waited for the bond to cement, then slipped into the mind of the woman before them.

Sara! Xavier and Logan both called into the dark void. Sara! Come back! You're safe! Come back! Logan added his calls to Xavier's.

Sara! Ya gotta come back, darlin', please! I love ya! The kids need ya! Come back! Please! I need ya, Sara, please come back!

There was no answer from the tiny spark fleeing further into the blackness. It knew those voices, and it wanted to go back, but fresh in its thoughts was the remembrance of the owners of those two voices standing over hits body, hurting it in ways its husband had hurt it long ago, laughing at its pitiful pleas and not caring.

The pain of those memories obscured a deeper, buried memory; that of a snarling, feral man standing over her body as another man, this one with cybernetic limbs, reprogrammed her mind to believe that the snarling Sabretooth was actually someone else, different men she knew and cared for. A brown-haired man with odd red-and-black eyes and a Cajun accent; another with pristine white wings and startling blue skin; one made of ice; one whose eyes were hidden behind ruby glasses; one who had kindly eyes and quiet authority, who commanded from a wheelchair; and foremost among those, a man with dark hair that peaked on either side of his head, whose gruff crusty exterior masked a soft, caring heart. She had cared for all those, once upon a time; then the Reaver known as Pretty Boy had taken the torments heaped on her and reprogrammed her mind to believe that the pain inflicted had been at the hands of the ones she loved. Unable to pierce the illusions with the small telepathic powers gifted to her, she fled to the farthest corner of her mind and hid there.

Logan broke the link with Charles first, exhausted and heartbroken. "She's gone. She has to be; if she weren't she'd have come to me. What do we do?"

Hank looked sad. "Charles, we have to try to save the children. They're still alive in there, we might be able to save them. Can you call Sara's obstetrician and get her to come here? It's only four weeks until Sara's due date; if Sara's dying delivering the children could be the only chance we have to save them before they die with her."

Charles nodded, his heart heavy. "I'll call her tomorrow. She knows who Sara is, and that she's one of us. I don't think we'll have a problem getting her to come out here to deliver Sara's children; as long as we hide the Shi'ar equipment we should be okay."

Sara's doctor arrived at the mansion the next afternoon, fresh from the hospital delivering another baby. She listened to Hank's diagnosis grimly, did a brief examination to confirm it, and nodded reluctantly. "I don't see any other way to save the children. Are you sure she's no longer 'home'?" she asked Jean.

Jean nodded. "We're sure. Charles called and called, and Logan called for her, and she didn't respond."

The woman snorted. "Well of course she's not going to answer, they're men. I don't care how much she loves him, after what she went through she's not going to want to have anything to do with a man. Have you tried to call her?"

"Whatcha mean, 'what she went through'?" Logan asked her.

Doctor Graham explained. "She might have a healing factor, but the signs of rape in a woman's body don't disappear that quickly," she said. "Her insides have been stretched all out of shape. She was raped, and it had to have been painful, considering how far along she is. That and the wounds you say she had on her body, and this deep cut," she traced the faint red line across Sara's swollen belly, "tell me she was probably hurt badly too. All things considered, if it were me I would probably hate men, too."

Jean said, "So I should try to call her?"

Doctor Graham nodded.

Jean slipped into the top layer of Sara's mind easily, and found herself in the same featureless void Xavier had found himself in. Sara! She called. Sara, come back! You're safe! You're home, with us! Your children need you, Sara, they're ready to come out, and you have to help them!

The tiny spark listened to the faint voice from where it hid. It knew that voice. That voice belonged to a very dear, trusted friend. And if that voice was saying it was all right, then it probably was, and she was safe. She 'ran' swiftly toward that voice, following it, and suddenly found itself wrapped in warmth, light, and a feeling of comfort and safety. Jean 'towed' Sara back to her body, and as Sara settled into her body and took a deep breath independent of the machines that kept her alive.

A restrained cheer went up, and Sara's eyes flew open. She saw Jean, and Doctor Graham behind her, but just past the two women she saw Logan, his face alight with joy. "Sara!" he flung himself at her, arms spread wide to embrace her.

She screamed and flung herself backward in a panicked retreat, scrambling off the table, scarcely realizing it when the needles in her veins tore themselves free. They healed even as she crawled backward, terror in her eyes as she stared at Xavier and Logan. "Please," she whimpered, hands coming up in a defensive gesture, "please don't come near me, please don't hurt me, please!" She cowered in the corner, moaning in terror, and Logan and Xavier stepped back, confused. Jean spoke telepathically to Xavier as she saw Sara's eyes poll upward, Charles, I think you and Logan should leave. She's not going to calm down while you're in here. I guess Doctor Graham was right.

They didn't argue, just meekly exited and waited in the observation room outside the medlab room Sara was in.

Jean moved to the crouching woman in the corner, speaking softly, comfortingly. Sara was in the process of uncurling and getting up when she suddenly groaned and doubled over, clutching her stomach. Jean looked at the doctor questioningly as she placed her hand on Sara's swollen belly. "She's going into labor," Doctor Graham said. "Up on the table, quickly!" the two women got Sara up on the table, and the obstetrician rigged a fetal monitor out of one of he electrodes that had been monitoring Sara's heartbeat.

The cries coming from Sara's room had gradually increased in volume over the last five hours. Logan paced back and forth, smoking one cigarette after another. By now the others had joined them, and a very few words were needed to update them all on Sara's condition. Now it was just waiting.

Logan tossed his empty pack into a wastebasket, and Gambit pulled a pack out of his pocket and handed him one. Xavier would normally have chided them both for smoking in the mansion, but on this occasion he was worried enough that he wished he could join them; anything would help the nervousness. Storm was sitting, looking at a magazine but not really seeing anything; Betsy had Sara's sword Chang in her hands and was polishing it, as she had done once before for her friend.

The hours dragged on. Sara's screams were almost at a fever pitch, now; Logan was muttering under her breath that he would never touch her again when suddenly the cries stopped. Jean and Doctor Graham's voices could now be heard, murmuring anxiously; then Sara screamed again, once, very weakly. They suddenly heard Jean's voice calling her, and Sara answering weakly. Seconds later, Jean came out, sweating and bloody.

"The babies aren't in the right position," she whispered hoarsely. "Sara's been pushing and pushing, but she just doesn't have the energy anymore to get them out. She's passed out twice. And Doctor Graham doesn't want to try a C-Section, Sara's lost too much blood already." Her weary shoulders shook with sobs, and Scott hugged her briefly, trying not to get blood on his shirt. "I don't think we can save all of them," she sobbed to Logan. "If it comes down to it, Logan, do you want us to try to save the children, or Sara?"

:That won't be necessary.:

It took a moment to realize where the voice was coming from.

"Chang? What can you do?" Betsy asked bitterly.

:The energy stored in my soulstone can help. She can tap into that energy to help herself, and save the babies.:

"But you haven't been in touch with her to replenish yours after the attack on the Professor," Betsy said. "You'll drain yourself. If I understand the way they work, if you drain yourself to the limit, you'll 'die', as it were."

:Then if it come to that, so shall it be. I spent my whole life, all those centuries ago, making weapons that took life. It is fitting that my life should be given to save one. Or three, as this happens. Get me in there before there is nothing I can do.:

Betsy and Jean went inside, carrying Chang, without further comment. Betsy nearly stopped in shock at what she saw. Sara, her legs propped up and apart with wadded towels, lay panting desperately on blood-soaked sheets, her fingers gripping the sides of the bed as she pushed with all her weakened strength. She looked at Jean with eyes full of helpless tears and whimpered, "I can't do this, oh, God, I can't do this."

"Here," Betsy laid Chang down on the bed beside her, ignoring Doctor Graham's sharp look. "Hang onto that, Sara. Chang said to draw on his stored power, on his and the soulstone you wear around your neck. Concentrate."

Sara closed her eyes, and before the three women's eyes that violet forcefield sprang into existence around her. But there was something different this time. Instead of pulling the energy from her to maintain itself, it was flowing into her, getting dim around her midsection as she drew on it to deliver the twins.

For a while it seemed as though nothing was happening, and then, very slowly, as the forcefield around her dimmed almost to invisibility, they saw a dark head poke out between her legs. Doctor Graham took hold of the shoulders, crying encouragement as Sara drew on all her remaining strength and that of her bladed friend. Suddenly a small, perfect infant dropped into her hands. Doctor Graham placed the tiny girl infant in Betsy's hands with instructions to put it under a heat lamp she saw in a corner of the medlab where Hank was growing plants. Betsy swept the plant tray aside, and placed the red, wrinkly baby under the lamp.

"Her little brother is being stubborn," Doctor Graham noted as she slid her fingers into Sara's birth canal to reach the other child. "Come on, Sara, push!" Sara gave one more mighty effort, crying with the effort, and as she slumped onto the table, unconscious, the little boy came free of her body, (quickly followed by the afterbirth) squalling indignantly. The three women cheered, and carried him over to the lamp, where Doctor Graham now washed them, clipped the umbilical cords, and dressed them in two tiny newborn outfits Storm had brought down hours earlier.

Jean flew through the doors, carrying the little girl, her face alight. Betsy followed, carrying the little boy, and the doctor walked out after them, slapping Logan on the back. "Congratulation, Dad!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling, as Jean put Megan Catherine in one arm, and Betsy put Joshua Charles in the other. Logan stared at the two tiny bundles in his arms, and his eyes were suspiciously brght. "How is Sara?" he asked worriedly, following them back into the room. Sara slept, exhausted after the long labor, as the three women changed the sheets she lay on. As everyone left the sleeping mother, Betsy stopped to pick up Chang.

The sword felt different in her hand, and she glanced down in surprise. The violet stone in the hilt of the sword was dull, lifeless, lacking the inner fire and sparkle she'd always seen in the jewel. Chang was gone.