He used to be the only core of X-Men, always, since the first moments his
feet stepped inside Xavier's mansion. There was nothing special in him:
like others he used to be lonely, and hurt, and scared, but there always
exist that special type of people, who just can take a lead. The natural
born leaders, who can always find a way out without seeing the way in
clearly, calm and strong personalities, who never make mistakes. Even if
they do, they will fix everything so quickly, that nobody will notice. That
was Scott Summers they all knew. Never needing to look back, knowing
perfectly, he always be there, never doubting in his decisions, seeing how
hard he works with facts to make them, always trusting in him, not in God,
because he always was the one and only true savior.
He used to be...
He was before he grabbed Professor by the collar and screamed in his face, trying to get free from the pain, that was eating him from inside like a cancer.
"It was all your fault and don't tell me to calm down, because it's the last thing I need right now!!! Maybe, you can't see the future, but the present is subject to you!!! And you could stop her for million times, but you didn't, because you needed to make a sacrifice and you chose her!!! Damn it, you chose the best pupil you ever had, the best person you ever knew!!! Maybe I even know, why... maybe she started to scare you with her improving powers, maybe you didn't want to loose your precious control... But you didn't take a moment to think... about her... about me... What about me now? How I suppose to exist now... how..."
The echo of his words was heard in every dark corner inside the mansion. And then another sounds, which in the last turn could be associated with the Fearless Leader of X-Men: he tried to continue, but his heart inside exploded with hysterical, freed from the brain control, sobs. Cyclops was crying on the floor in the Xavier's office, slowly letting go Professor's collar.
Xavier bent down to one of his adopted freaked children, who always stayed little scared children in his eyes, even after they grew up, becoming deadly assassins or modest, unseen saviors of the world, even after they died, and touched his unshaved cheek. He had a strange feeling like he was going back to the past, back into 1990, when a frightened 17-years-old boy was sitting like this before him, being afraid to take his hands off his eyes to cause more panic and destruction.
"There is one thing you should be reminded of, Scott", he said with his normal calm and reasonable voice. "I was inside her head when she made her decision, right in the epicenter of the whirlpool of her thoughts. And if... If I would see any tiny shadow of doubt, any sign of uncertainty, any hint, that somebody or something was forcing her to leave the plane, I would make her back immediately. Look at me, Scott. I am an old man without family, and this mansion, this team, these children--it's all I have. I gave you all my life. Nobody forced me--it was my own decision, hard decision... Jean probably would understand me now. But I have not any regret of decision I made once. You are all I have. You are the meaning of my life, and I would rather let Stryker and his biological control machine named Jason destroy me, clearing any memory of me from all your minds, than let Jean die, let anyone of you die. But the thing is she changed. It was a complicated process, going inside her for years, little by little, so slowly, that we didn't notice it until it was too late. But even if we did, then what? Your mutation is completed, mine is either, but the evolution inside her had two stages. She did what she did, feeling, that the first stage was completed, knowing, she was transforming again into something new, something else. She needed to put the point in the end of the sentence..."
Suddenly he couldn't speak either. In dark shadows of the cabinet the two victims of the x-factor were sobbing and hoping that this little demonstration of weakness would take some of their pain away.
What a self-deception...
Ororo organized a special operation into Scott and Jean's room to gather all her stuff and hide it somewhere in the mansion until he'll be capable to react less emotionally. Packing shoes in the big box, she, of course, felt the uselessness of the whole process, because the sprit of Jean Grey was in the air.
"Hey, need some help with this?"
Ororo looked up and saw Miss Big-Cyclops'-Trouble Elizabeth Braddock herself, leaning against the wall. But now everything wasn't about Cyclops. It was about Scott Summers, the most lonely man in the modern cruel world.
"It would be great. I want to finish before his comeback."
"It's silly." Liz, always Liz and never Betsy, kneeled near the boxes with clothes, cosmetics, notebooks and other things left by their owner. "He printed her photos anyway".
"How do you know?"
Psylocke touched her temple with her finger, and this gesture made Ororo shudder, remaining her of Magneto too much.
"He took one of the last photos, where you all are in the museum, cropped, enlarged, cleaned and printed... five copies. One for this wall," she pointed to the wall behind her, "One for the bedside-table, one for the office table, one to hang in the hall and one to keep always with him".
She sighed and picked one of the dresses, laying on the bed. The quick flash of some pleasant moment lighted her face, but she quickly chased it away, packing the dress.
"I was writing letters all night", Ororo continued. "To all science societies she was in. You know, they continued to send invitations to conferences, and Scott had found one in the mail-box. I heard him crying, Liz. It's... it's beyond words. You have to live through it yourself to feel the same way he does. I swear, it would be better if he screamed at us, broke, crushed something, get into the fight with Logan. Just quiet sobs. Like his heart is torn into pieces..."
Liz opened her new pack of cigarettes just couple of hours ago, and it was already half-empty. Things started to get faster... She lighted the cigarette, ignoring all "no smoking" signs in the mansion.
"Life taught me one thing, Ro", she said, turned away from her friend to face the window. "Only in movies people can really disappear. In real life... Nobody can be just gone. Memories are the chain, that can't be broken, you know. Tomorrow you will start your classes, will speak about the great personalities of the world history, and suddenly--bang!--you will see her sitting in the back and checking tests. Then some letter will appear in the mail-box, sent to Jean Grey by some forgotten friend, then..."
When Warren was leaving, he said, Psylocke was too obsessed with her own internal world to care about other people, who love her. He said, she hadn't heart. He was an Angel, but even angels can make mistakes sometimes, because she was sitting there, in the bedroom of the happiest mutant couple ever, blinded by tears.
Ororo decided not to destroy her ego and didn't play attention to this fact.
"We were sitting here a couple of weeks ago, discussing compositions of the pupils", she remembered. "John Allerdyce's, actually. I know, you liked him. And you were the only person he really liked, I guess. So she gave them the topic: "Can aggression be an answer?". Children, especially our children, can't be truthful even to themselves, so they started all this crap: "I can't answer this question, because aggression is bad, of course, but sometimes..." and blah-blah-blah. Here you go, teacher, try to find out yourself while I'm giving you two possibilities. But John Allerdyce wrote the shortest composition I ever read, consisting only of one word. Have any ideas?"
"Well, knowing him long enough..." Liz smiled and finally turned her face to Ororo again.
"He wrote "Yes", turned the paper down and left the room. It was the sign, if we only knew then... Maybe, we would help him somehow, maybe..."
"Nah. He made his choice long ago, when he just arrived here, the choice to trust nobody no matter what..."
Ororo touched Liz's shoulder.
"Liz, maybe... Maybe you'll stay? For a couple of months, that's all I ask. I am left alone, trying to smile and be nice teacher and friend, but it is too difficult. My life changed too quickly."
Liz reached forward, pressing another woman hard against her body. Once she said she would be back, when everything here would be on fire to help and to fight, but...
"Not in this case, Ro. Not now. I love you all, but I don't want to be a replacement... for Jean."
The door opened slowly and Jubilee stepped inside, little uncomfortable with the scene on the floor.
"Ms Braddock, can I talk to you?" she whispered, blushing.
"You see," Liz whispered to Ororo, "It is already started. I'm leaving in evening, but you know, where to find me."
She stood up and followed the fragile Asian girl, disappearing in the darkness of the corridor.
Jubilee raised her trembling hands to her face, looking onto multi-colored electric lightnings, snaked around her fingers and wrists. She clapped her hands loudly in anger, creating the bright splash of light, which could blind Liz. But she was expecting something like this, closing her eyes in time.
"Sometimes I can feel anger, Ms Braddock", she continued, "Which is wrong, I know, but every time I see him, hear his empty voice without emotions... It's unfair! Ms Grey is gone, but what about us? We are here, we are still alive and we still need him! Mr Summers is more than a teacher to me. He was like an older brother, even like father maybe. You have to understand: I thought I found family here, but he went into his own world and closed the door..."
"Everything is simple, girl. Tell him. Tell him you need him and give him some time to understand. Because he feels your aggression and closes even more. Mr. Summers will be back one day, this I promise you. Just don't close your door, okay?"
Jubilee looked distracted at another blue lightning, coming from inside her sleeve. Liz knew, she was in love with John Allerdyce, but he spoiled this beautiful pure feeling inside her heart. And then he was gone with Magneto... But those cruel words "I DON'T LIKE YOU!!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO REPEAT THIS?!" were ringing inside girl's head time after time. Another love -- another heart is broken.
"It started right after Ms Grey's funeral", Jubilee showed another lightning on her wrist, like a bracelet, "I could control them before... my fireworks. But now they appear and go when they want to."
Another reason why Elizabeth Braddock left this place five years was the fact that the inhabitants of Xavier's mansion always made easy things complicated.
"It's your nerves. Try Xanax for a week or so, and you will see the difference. It's natural after such stress. Now come I will show you how to open the doors..."
Scott was sitting on the bench in the garden with fresh tears, appearing from the visor, on his cheeks. Before Jean's death, even being a child, he always considered himself as a strong person to set his feelings free. He never cried in public, being extremely ashamed to. Now he was too lost to even care about the moisture coming from his eyes, that were bright blue once, before damn x-factor took over. And Ororo was worried bout this change. Fearless Leader started to disappear somewhere beyond reach and understanding, staying motionless physically. He was here and somewhere else at the same time, and she was afraid, that one day he may not come back from there. Psylocke's hand touched his shoulder from behind.
"Come on, Cyke, I'll be late for my train".
"So what?" he asked with the weird voice, the voice that didn't really belong to the Fearless Leader of X-Men.
"So what? I can stay here forever. Then your worst nightmare will come true. So hurry up. I need a ride."
"What do you know about nightmares, woman," he mumbled, but stood up and, what surprised Jubilee the most, smiled.
He gave her a little kiss in the cheek, a tiny kiss, but sincere this time, not a quick mark to make her disappear as soon as possible. Then for a moment he was ready to ask her to stay another week or so, maybe even beg with that dead voice, which scared little Jubilee (and not only her, of course) so much. She was a symbol of the past, of the past without Stryker and his crazy assistant with adamantium nails, of the past with Jean, alive and happy, in it. She was the last peace of his broken world, becoming more distant with every second.
Now. She let his arm go and took her heavy bag. Nobody except Professor really knew, where she lived and what she did for living after her break-up with Warren, her loud break-up with Warren, when she cracked all the windows of their house with her bare hands, sitting on the floor in the kitchen and watching blood streams crossing her pale skin. She really had problems with birds: Thunderbird at first, Archangel then... "Maybe I have allergy on feathers and stuff?" she used to joke gloomy, realizing many years ago, that proud loneliness will be her friend and lover forever and ever. The realization came without any pain or surprise, just a fact to take and move on or continue to struggle, breaking heart after heart. Well, she tried another couple of hearts, though... To prove her theory with another hot facts, but this railway-station scene was not about her.
She leaned forward, nearly touching Cyclops' hear with her lips, and whispered: "Who is our leader?"
"Things had changed, Liz. I'm not sure, if..."
"Who is our "cold head"? Who's brain saved our impulsive asses so many times? You should be proud of all things I hate you about. Hated once. What is your name?"
"Liz..."
"Wrong. What is your name?"
"Scott Summers".
"Wrong again. Mr. Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, The Fearless Leader of X- Men. Keep that in mind now. Keep that in mind forever. Every time you will want all this world around you to disappear, just picture my sexy muzzle and say aloud, who are you."
She took step back, then another, and another one, until her face dissolved among hundreds of other faces.
Elizabeth Braddock was gone again quicker than somebody could realize that, quicker than an eye could notice her absence. And Scott continued to stand on the platform, motionless, like a statue, and nobody could really see the direction he was looking in...
He was standing without moving for a long time, deep in his thoughts, never hearing surprised exclamations and loud whispers behind his back. If he looked back, he would see, that the crowd has stopped its chaotic movement, divided onto two parts. All eyes were staring at the main gate of the railway station. There, leaning against the wooden doors, a naked woman was standing. She was trying to stand on her feet, trembling and staring wildly around. Well, she wasn't completely naked -- all her body was covered with a substance, reminding of a mix of the sand and ash, and dirt, her long, so dirty, that it seemed to be black, hair streamed down her stomach. But all this wasn't so shocking comparing to the fact, that the woman was burning. Literally. Pale orange tongues of flame were dancing on her skin, never causing harm. The woman seemed to be comfortable with this weird kind of closing, she didn't really notice it.
Finally her wild gaze stopped, focusing on Cyclops' back. She made a hoarse sound, that didn't sound alike any known in English language word, and, roaming from side to side like she was going to fall she started to make her way to him.
Scott came back to reality and the first thing he saw were an eyes of old lady, popping out her head and staring onto something behind him. Her suitcase had fell on the floor, all clothes in mess. He hadn't enough time to even wonder about the reasons, because somebody grabbed him by the shoulders.
Jean Grey, or at least a person, a creature, that used to be her once, pressed her body against her lover, trying to stay awake, although the cold haze of unconsciousness had already filled her brain. The flames on her skin didn't expanded on him, he felt just something trembling and cold through his coat , and then he turned around to see...
"Scott", Jean whispered before falling in his arms, unconsioness.
Like a mythical siren from ancient legend, she appeared from the water earlier this day, when all rescue and reconstruction operations in Canada were already over. Actually, society was again captured with Madonna/Christina/Britney kiss on TV and already forgot about the ruined dam and rebellious waves of the lake, breaking free about a month ago.
Two fishermen were the only witnesses of her appearing again here, on the other side of the line, in the world of alive people. They could only watch in shock as she slowly got near, ruining all chemical laws and burning in pale cold flame in the water.
"Hey, lady", one of them, who's name was Adam, finally found his tongue deep inside his throat. "You need help".
Burning "lady" finally stepped on the solid ground, covered with cold February snow and didn't pay any attention to his words. After 37 days of laying on the river bottom, trapped in the cage of complicated biological processes, she didn't want hot coffee or a duvet.
Her body wanted to be fed, although her brain had already forgot almost all the words of any language she'd ever knew. But maybe it wasn't the brain of sweet doctor Jean Grey anymore. Maybe something had changed inside the body Scott was pressing to his chest in the ring of shocked people, not making any attempt to stop tears from his eyes.
"Arrggggghhhh", she answered to the invitation to take a cup of warming liquid. Actually, she had already found what she needed. Without any thought inside her brain, she growled again and leaped forward and stick two rows of sharp teeth in fisherman's flesh, stealing his life with two exact bites in neck area.
The survived fisherman was sent to the hospital -- cops hoped they would be able to get a more rational explanation of his friend's disappearing after a couple of weeks of intense therapy. "Was eaten alive by naked woman on fire" -- sounds stupid for police protocol, don't you think?
"What do you think, Professor?" Ororo asked tiredly.
She was sitting on the sofa, watching three different angles of the laboratory on big monitors. Scott never left a chair near Jean's "sarcophagus", that was quickly built right when he brought her home. Glass camera was filled with special gas, that supported the flame on her skin. When fire started to fade itself soon after Jean's arriving, she began to scream hysterically and scratch her skin with long dangerous nails like she was going to get free from it. On the clean from the flame areas a deep wounds started to appear. It was obvious, that she couldn't exist without that special flame yet.
"Did you see Rogue?"
"Yes. And what?"
"The girl is scared. She was in hall, when Scott brought... her. And after that Logan and she disappeared in their room... Rogue's reaction was right. She was the one and only to notice..."
"Notice what?"
"We know and love Jean for so long, that we can't see obvious things. Ororo, I can't feel the creature down there."
He turned his face away from the monitor.
"There is a process inside her. The process, that has to go to the end. But when it be over, I can't promise you, Scott, whoever, that it would be Jean we get. I can't ask Scott to be ready for it after all he was going through, but I can ask you... to be ready... to let her go, if... she want."
"We lost her, then find, and now you're asking me to..."
Jean was still in deep sleep, close to coma, down there , in laboratory. However, the rumor, that sweet and lovely second mother Ms. Jean Grey is alive, spread quickly, and Professor didn't really knew for how long he would be able to keep the laboratory closed for visitors. In rare days like this Professor Charles Xavier felt himself much older, than he really was, and some very small and secret part of his brain started to regret, that one day he opened this school... Of course, he couldn't confess in this.
"She was hungry this morning," he said. "And she found some food. Remember the article about the lost fisherman?"
He left the room with that. Ororo pressed her forehead to the cold surface of the monitor and let a couple of tears fall onto the shiny surface of the table. When you are a mutant, the world around is complicated. Sometimes even too complicated.
"Wouldn't I pay enough?" she whispered to the darkness. "Wouldn't we all pay enough?"
Darkness didn't answer. It never did.
Scott fell asleep at seven in the morning with his eyes burning from constantly looking into his lover's face, searching for any movement, for any sign of life except the weak glimmering of the flame tongues. He was so exhausted physically and emotionally, that didn't feel the vibrations of the glass under his arms.
Jean woke up moments earlier, trying to recognize the place she used to call her second home, sitting from dusk to dawn with her tests and experiments to make the world better. Now, however, she didn't find any associations or memories in her brain. And her body obviously didn't want to be inside the glass capsule, limiting her living space.
"Scott", her lips said.
She knew the name of the man, who cared about her so much. She also felt some sort of connection, that helped her to find him, only him inside the crowd. But it was all. No internal warmth, no desire to hold him or to kiss him, or to be with him, just to be near... However, she felt quick sharp something, when he put the glass cover up, and she was again in his arms. He was whispering something, kissing her forehead, touching her hair and crying, and she knew only, that these people want somehow to limit her actions, her space. Maybe this knowledge was an echo of Jean's telepathy, which now was gone. Forever.
She turned her face to the left to find an empty glass. Continuing to stroke his back, she reached her hand and with the power Jean never knew squeezed it until it burst. Scott was too excited to hear the cracking sound. She took the biggest splinter and pushed Cyclops back slightly. Placing one hand on his neck, she repeated: "Scott". Her voice was empty, without any intonation. The mysterious "something" didn't appear, when she stuck her glass "knife" under his ribs.
"Jean", he whispered hoarsely, feeling his strength leaving him with hot blood, pouring on the white floor from the deep cut.
His brain refused to believe, but body was telling him the truth. The heavy smell of blood filled the room. Jean slowly tilted her head to the side, like a bird, studying his pale face attentively. He was already half-dead, his brain in haze, but he really saw the darkness, filling her beautiful green eyes. No more comforting warm shining, no even pupils, just black narrow ovals, empty, but exhaling the freezing breath of death.
When she was sure he lost enough blood, she let him fall on the floor.
Scott wasn't sure remembering this moment in the future about all that he's seen than. The cold tongues of flame disappeared from her skin completely, and dark spots started to expand on it, creating weird patterns of interlacing lines, until almost all her naked body was covered with this specific kind of clothing.
"Arhhhhhh," she breathed out with satisfaction, studying her body for a moment.
Then she turned to him, kneeling, but not touching anymore. Touching the center of her chest with the tip of the finger, she croaked, making every letter clear:
"Phoenix."
The creature, that used to be Jean once, just touched the iron doors with her hands, and her eyes exploded with dangerous red lightning. Doors opened, although the new creature didn't know the key code, and shut loudly behind her back. Whoever she was now, she was gone. Again. And Scott didn't really knew, whether she stoke that glass under his ribs or directly in his soul...
Run, run, run, run, run...
Where to?
She stopped immediately, hiding among dead faces of the marble statues, being afraid to move. Another question, the third, actually. Listening to the breathing and heartbeat, she didn't know, she was acting just like Wolverine, first appearing at Xavier's mansion couple of years ago. And the voice was the same...
"Arggggghhrrrr..." she roared, shaking her head wildly.
Professor shook his head. The new creature's brain wasn't formed yet -- Jean (he still believed, that it is possible to find her inside the creature, who called herself "Phoenix") lived with primal, simplest instincts only. She felt fear of modern world's rhythm and sound, finding a shelter on the old cemetery, where everything was relatively quiet, she felt anger, when he tried to manipulate her, but rage was not even her basic feeling or instinct -- it was her. The process was almost completed physically, but on psychological level she was still an animal, running from herself, from her home, from the people, who cared about her.
"So?" Ororo asked.
Rogue and she spent last four hours, fighting for Scott's life. Charles blamed himself for feeling the danger, but doing nothing to prevent troubles. To tell the truth, for the first time since Magneto had betrayed him, he felt so distracted. He woke up in cold sweat this morning, because in his hears, inside his brain he felt the vibrations of Scott's heart, slowing down with every second.
They saved him. He was half-dead after the operation, but they have stopped the massive internal bleeding, that could kill the Fearless Leader. Ororo always helped Jean in laboratory, but for Rogue it was the first experience of that kind. Five times she threw the scalpel away, rushing to the bathroom to let out her breakfast, and supper, and dinner. "I saw... I saw his heart, when Ororo cut his ribcage open. It was... it was moving..." she cried, never bothering to wash her hands from blood, when Cyclops' life wasn't already in danger. Charles touched her wet from sweat forehead and simply said: "Forget." And she did, falling into Logan's arms, asleep.
"I'm afraid to break her. That's enough pressure for now. Her brain is very fragile, I am afraid to provoke something... Dangerous."
"For Christ sake, Professor, she is a naked woman without thoughts in her head, somewhere in the city. Police can find her any moment, and..."
"It already did. She broke a neck of police officer... We got to stop her, because, I'm afraid, we are the only people, who can do it. Get ready the jet and take Logan... I will guide you... and her."
"But if..."
"Be careful."
He left the room to "capture" the mind of one of his first pupils and one of his dearest children again.
"Jean".
"Arrrrrrrr..."
"Jean".
Arrrrhhhhhhh..."
"Jean".
The creature, that used to be Jean Grey, shook her head again and again, but the name just stoke inside her brain like a splinter. And with every second the sound of it became more and more natural, like it was her own name.
"Phoenix", she groaned, leaning down to the roof of the small church, when a big flying machine appeared on the horizon. She watched, as two people came from it, looking for something or somebody. With the grace of a big dangerous predator, she crawled to the very edge of the roof, getting ready to jump and destroy, like she did with that policemen. He wanted to capture her, wanted to close her in the iron cage. No, mister, sorry. His dried blood left dark red spots on her face, which she didn't bother to clean.
"Jean", the voice repeated again. Normally
She shuddered, and the big man from the flying machine somehow felt the vibration.
"See her?" Ororo asked, looking around.
"Feel. Somebody, but not Jean."
Ororo followed his gaze and met the pair of black furious eyes. Eyes narrowed, and their owner disappeared from sight.
"Logan, what about a little flight?"
"I prefer ladders, ya know. Especially after the Statue Of Liberty events..."
She didn't listen to the end, focusing on the wind, clouds and sun. The hurricane appear from nothing, without any obvious reason the blue sunny sky was closed by the heavy dark October clouds within a seconds. After another moment, it was difficult to stay on his feet even for Wolverine. Old trees, encircling the cemetery, bent to the ground, losing their last golden clothing. Before Logan could protest, he was grabbed by the arm, and the yellow grass suddenly became too distant. In the next second he was standing on the roof and looking into the empty eyes of the person he used to know, like and respect.
Black patterns on her skin started to disappear about an hour ago, after the long fight her body finally accepted the new power, the new essence. Her eyes became clearer, too, although nobody had a doubt they wouldn't be magic green as before. She took another step back, baring her teeth.
"She doesn't want to go with us", Logan reported, stepping forward and getting ready to catch the predator before him.
"Jean", Ororo whispered in despair, finally seeing with her own eyes all Professor was talking about.
Approximately at the same time Professor appeared in laboratory, where Rogue already managed to clear up all the mess. Scott was sleeping, although his sleep was restless: he was moving his lips, his eyes trembled under the eyelids.
"I only take your memories for a moment," Charles said, knowing, that Cyclops didn't hear him anyway. "You don't need them right now".
He touched Scott's forehead with his hand, putting another to his own head, creating a "connection".
Storm felt something inside her head, the feeling she never could describe, but that meant, she's not alone with her absent-minded thoughts. She knew this feeling too well -- time after time in her childhood Charles was "checking" her and other students, just to be sure, they are fine. Actually, after couple of his visits, Liz stopped experiment with joints -- "Betsy, stop!" - ringed in her head each time she reached her hand to the forbidden box under her bed.
Storm touched Wolverine's shoulder lightly; he was tensed and ready to attack each second.
"Wait," she whispered, "He came up with something".
Logan touched his temple -- something was moving there, Professor turned the pages of his memory quickly, but never missing anything important.
"Either it will work, or you were predicted to change and forget about us", Professor sighed and closed his eyes.
Dark creature on the roof suddenly grabbed her head like she was going to tear it off and howled loudly. The chilling sound expanded quickly through light autumn air, and all situation started to remind the scene from the cheap horror movie.
The creature saw a little redhead girl, standing behind her mother and with childish calmness listening to the prophecy of blind old woman named Wanda from the small Southern country in the center of Europe. She saw the same girl, only older, standing before a man in wheelchair with the features of a God. "I know what people want to do, but when I try to change something, they just laugh and then... Each my vision came true. I don't want them in my head. I don't want people to call me crazy just because I already saw what they didn't know yet. I don't want this..." The girl was crying on man's lap... She saw a young woman, who was writing a letter to a man in dark glasses, never finding enough courage to send it. She saw a real woman with same red hair with the same man, in bed, whispering quiet words of love into his hear in the darkness of the bedroom. Flash! Ororo and she in the class, full of children, each of them special. Wait a minute, where did she get the name? Who is... Here she is, right before you. Flash! A pilot seat of the Black Bird... Black what? Flash! The girl named Rogue is dangerous, her mutation is one of the cruelest and weirdest jokes of nature. Flash! Wrong thoughts about Logan. She is interested in him, loving Scott... Scott? with all her heart, but this is simply not right... Flash! Something terrible is about to happen... To them or to you, Jeannie? Both. There is a man with a rotten from anger heart, who wants to see deaths, many deaths, many bleeding bodies. His name is Stryker. Flash! She knows she can fix the problem of the Black Bird, without leaving the jet. She thinks, she can, but... Isn't is that moment of changes the old blind woman was talking about? She hears her voice. It's impossible -- the woman must be dead for many years, and normally she can hear only alive people's thoughts. "Now!" the woman says. Flash! God, Scott, can you ever forgive me? You have to understand, It's not up to me, I changed. I have to go to find out how bad. Flash! Here it is... The moment of truth. Now.
"This is who you used to be. This is who you predicted to be. Not Phoenix. Jean. Make a choice now: take it or leave it", Professor's voice said.
The creature, that used to be Jean Grey once, slowly opened her eyes. Through the haze of tears Ororo Munroe saw comforting green shine, that couldn't fool her. She sobbed and opened her arms to an old friend. There was a moment of fear, there was a moment, when she was afraid to trust to well-known enclosure, but all her doubts flew away, when, crying loudly, Jean Grey leaned to her. They were crying together, even Wolverine, feeling uncomfortable, shed one little tear.
Telepath and telekinetic Jean Grey died in cold water of the Canadian lake and was reborn almost two months later on the roof of the church, where only forever blind and dumb statues were the witnesses of this miracle. Her body accepted the mysterious power of Phoenix, but didn't surrender the mind, heart and soul of Jean Grey.
When he opened his eyes, he thought he was already dead and went to heaven, because like many times before she was standing near his bed, busy with syringes and medicines, wearing her sweet glasses, that made her face look even smarter and prettier. Not wanting to brake the illusion, he watched her through the lashes, but then she did the thing Jean Grey would never did -- she came to the door, taking the duvet, and brought it to the bed, covering him. She didn't make it "fly" right where she needed it. And she didn't entered his brain to check his condition without asking.
"Jean?" he asked carefully, and his heart froze, waiting for her to disappear.
She didn't. She turned to him and smiled the way only real Jean could.
"You are..."
"I'm back, but don't ask me to shut the door from here -- I'm afraid, I can't make gimmicks like this anymore".
She carefully lowered her body to the bed near him and held his head against her chest, trying not to disturb his injured side. Everything felt natural -- like she never was gone, like he never wanted to die from pain and loneliness, like crazy military scientist Stryker never came into their lives.
Defeated, creature, that used to be Jean Grey, disappeared, leaving the real Jean Grey, changed and better, to live and again and again save the humanity.
THE END.
He used to be...
He was before he grabbed Professor by the collar and screamed in his face, trying to get free from the pain, that was eating him from inside like a cancer.
"It was all your fault and don't tell me to calm down, because it's the last thing I need right now!!! Maybe, you can't see the future, but the present is subject to you!!! And you could stop her for million times, but you didn't, because you needed to make a sacrifice and you chose her!!! Damn it, you chose the best pupil you ever had, the best person you ever knew!!! Maybe I even know, why... maybe she started to scare you with her improving powers, maybe you didn't want to loose your precious control... But you didn't take a moment to think... about her... about me... What about me now? How I suppose to exist now... how..."
The echo of his words was heard in every dark corner inside the mansion. And then another sounds, which in the last turn could be associated with the Fearless Leader of X-Men: he tried to continue, but his heart inside exploded with hysterical, freed from the brain control, sobs. Cyclops was crying on the floor in the Xavier's office, slowly letting go Professor's collar.
Xavier bent down to one of his adopted freaked children, who always stayed little scared children in his eyes, even after they grew up, becoming deadly assassins or modest, unseen saviors of the world, even after they died, and touched his unshaved cheek. He had a strange feeling like he was going back to the past, back into 1990, when a frightened 17-years-old boy was sitting like this before him, being afraid to take his hands off his eyes to cause more panic and destruction.
"There is one thing you should be reminded of, Scott", he said with his normal calm and reasonable voice. "I was inside her head when she made her decision, right in the epicenter of the whirlpool of her thoughts. And if... If I would see any tiny shadow of doubt, any sign of uncertainty, any hint, that somebody or something was forcing her to leave the plane, I would make her back immediately. Look at me, Scott. I am an old man without family, and this mansion, this team, these children--it's all I have. I gave you all my life. Nobody forced me--it was my own decision, hard decision... Jean probably would understand me now. But I have not any regret of decision I made once. You are all I have. You are the meaning of my life, and I would rather let Stryker and his biological control machine named Jason destroy me, clearing any memory of me from all your minds, than let Jean die, let anyone of you die. But the thing is she changed. It was a complicated process, going inside her for years, little by little, so slowly, that we didn't notice it until it was too late. But even if we did, then what? Your mutation is completed, mine is either, but the evolution inside her had two stages. She did what she did, feeling, that the first stage was completed, knowing, she was transforming again into something new, something else. She needed to put the point in the end of the sentence..."
Suddenly he couldn't speak either. In dark shadows of the cabinet the two victims of the x-factor were sobbing and hoping that this little demonstration of weakness would take some of their pain away.
What a self-deception...
Ororo organized a special operation into Scott and Jean's room to gather all her stuff and hide it somewhere in the mansion until he'll be capable to react less emotionally. Packing shoes in the big box, she, of course, felt the uselessness of the whole process, because the sprit of Jean Grey was in the air.
"Hey, need some help with this?"
Ororo looked up and saw Miss Big-Cyclops'-Trouble Elizabeth Braddock herself, leaning against the wall. But now everything wasn't about Cyclops. It was about Scott Summers, the most lonely man in the modern cruel world.
"It would be great. I want to finish before his comeback."
"It's silly." Liz, always Liz and never Betsy, kneeled near the boxes with clothes, cosmetics, notebooks and other things left by their owner. "He printed her photos anyway".
"How do you know?"
Psylocke touched her temple with her finger, and this gesture made Ororo shudder, remaining her of Magneto too much.
"He took one of the last photos, where you all are in the museum, cropped, enlarged, cleaned and printed... five copies. One for this wall," she pointed to the wall behind her, "One for the bedside-table, one for the office table, one to hang in the hall and one to keep always with him".
She sighed and picked one of the dresses, laying on the bed. The quick flash of some pleasant moment lighted her face, but she quickly chased it away, packing the dress.
"I was writing letters all night", Ororo continued. "To all science societies she was in. You know, they continued to send invitations to conferences, and Scott had found one in the mail-box. I heard him crying, Liz. It's... it's beyond words. You have to live through it yourself to feel the same way he does. I swear, it would be better if he screamed at us, broke, crushed something, get into the fight with Logan. Just quiet sobs. Like his heart is torn into pieces..."
Liz opened her new pack of cigarettes just couple of hours ago, and it was already half-empty. Things started to get faster... She lighted the cigarette, ignoring all "no smoking" signs in the mansion.
"Life taught me one thing, Ro", she said, turned away from her friend to face the window. "Only in movies people can really disappear. In real life... Nobody can be just gone. Memories are the chain, that can't be broken, you know. Tomorrow you will start your classes, will speak about the great personalities of the world history, and suddenly--bang!--you will see her sitting in the back and checking tests. Then some letter will appear in the mail-box, sent to Jean Grey by some forgotten friend, then..."
When Warren was leaving, he said, Psylocke was too obsessed with her own internal world to care about other people, who love her. He said, she hadn't heart. He was an Angel, but even angels can make mistakes sometimes, because she was sitting there, in the bedroom of the happiest mutant couple ever, blinded by tears.
Ororo decided not to destroy her ego and didn't play attention to this fact.
"We were sitting here a couple of weeks ago, discussing compositions of the pupils", she remembered. "John Allerdyce's, actually. I know, you liked him. And you were the only person he really liked, I guess. So she gave them the topic: "Can aggression be an answer?". Children, especially our children, can't be truthful even to themselves, so they started all this crap: "I can't answer this question, because aggression is bad, of course, but sometimes..." and blah-blah-blah. Here you go, teacher, try to find out yourself while I'm giving you two possibilities. But John Allerdyce wrote the shortest composition I ever read, consisting only of one word. Have any ideas?"
"Well, knowing him long enough..." Liz smiled and finally turned her face to Ororo again.
"He wrote "Yes", turned the paper down and left the room. It was the sign, if we only knew then... Maybe, we would help him somehow, maybe..."
"Nah. He made his choice long ago, when he just arrived here, the choice to trust nobody no matter what..."
Ororo touched Liz's shoulder.
"Liz, maybe... Maybe you'll stay? For a couple of months, that's all I ask. I am left alone, trying to smile and be nice teacher and friend, but it is too difficult. My life changed too quickly."
Liz reached forward, pressing another woman hard against her body. Once she said she would be back, when everything here would be on fire to help and to fight, but...
"Not in this case, Ro. Not now. I love you all, but I don't want to be a replacement... for Jean."
The door opened slowly and Jubilee stepped inside, little uncomfortable with the scene on the floor.
"Ms Braddock, can I talk to you?" she whispered, blushing.
"You see," Liz whispered to Ororo, "It is already started. I'm leaving in evening, but you know, where to find me."
She stood up and followed the fragile Asian girl, disappearing in the darkness of the corridor.
Jubilee raised her trembling hands to her face, looking onto multi-colored electric lightnings, snaked around her fingers and wrists. She clapped her hands loudly in anger, creating the bright splash of light, which could blind Liz. But she was expecting something like this, closing her eyes in time.
"Sometimes I can feel anger, Ms Braddock", she continued, "Which is wrong, I know, but every time I see him, hear his empty voice without emotions... It's unfair! Ms Grey is gone, but what about us? We are here, we are still alive and we still need him! Mr Summers is more than a teacher to me. He was like an older brother, even like father maybe. You have to understand: I thought I found family here, but he went into his own world and closed the door..."
"Everything is simple, girl. Tell him. Tell him you need him and give him some time to understand. Because he feels your aggression and closes even more. Mr. Summers will be back one day, this I promise you. Just don't close your door, okay?"
Jubilee looked distracted at another blue lightning, coming from inside her sleeve. Liz knew, she was in love with John Allerdyce, but he spoiled this beautiful pure feeling inside her heart. And then he was gone with Magneto... But those cruel words "I DON'T LIKE YOU!!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I NEED TO REPEAT THIS?!" were ringing inside girl's head time after time. Another love -- another heart is broken.
"It started right after Ms Grey's funeral", Jubilee showed another lightning on her wrist, like a bracelet, "I could control them before... my fireworks. But now they appear and go when they want to."
Another reason why Elizabeth Braddock left this place five years was the fact that the inhabitants of Xavier's mansion always made easy things complicated.
"It's your nerves. Try Xanax for a week or so, and you will see the difference. It's natural after such stress. Now come I will show you how to open the doors..."
Scott was sitting on the bench in the garden with fresh tears, appearing from the visor, on his cheeks. Before Jean's death, even being a child, he always considered himself as a strong person to set his feelings free. He never cried in public, being extremely ashamed to. Now he was too lost to even care about the moisture coming from his eyes, that were bright blue once, before damn x-factor took over. And Ororo was worried bout this change. Fearless Leader started to disappear somewhere beyond reach and understanding, staying motionless physically. He was here and somewhere else at the same time, and she was afraid, that one day he may not come back from there. Psylocke's hand touched his shoulder from behind.
"Come on, Cyke, I'll be late for my train".
"So what?" he asked with the weird voice, the voice that didn't really belong to the Fearless Leader of X-Men.
"So what? I can stay here forever. Then your worst nightmare will come true. So hurry up. I need a ride."
"What do you know about nightmares, woman," he mumbled, but stood up and, what surprised Jubilee the most, smiled.
He gave her a little kiss in the cheek, a tiny kiss, but sincere this time, not a quick mark to make her disappear as soon as possible. Then for a moment he was ready to ask her to stay another week or so, maybe even beg with that dead voice, which scared little Jubilee (and not only her, of course) so much. She was a symbol of the past, of the past without Stryker and his crazy assistant with adamantium nails, of the past with Jean, alive and happy, in it. She was the last peace of his broken world, becoming more distant with every second.
Now. She let his arm go and took her heavy bag. Nobody except Professor really knew, where she lived and what she did for living after her break-up with Warren, her loud break-up with Warren, when she cracked all the windows of their house with her bare hands, sitting on the floor in the kitchen and watching blood streams crossing her pale skin. She really had problems with birds: Thunderbird at first, Archangel then... "Maybe I have allergy on feathers and stuff?" she used to joke gloomy, realizing many years ago, that proud loneliness will be her friend and lover forever and ever. The realization came without any pain or surprise, just a fact to take and move on or continue to struggle, breaking heart after heart. Well, she tried another couple of hearts, though... To prove her theory with another hot facts, but this railway-station scene was not about her.
She leaned forward, nearly touching Cyclops' hear with her lips, and whispered: "Who is our leader?"
"Things had changed, Liz. I'm not sure, if..."
"Who is our "cold head"? Who's brain saved our impulsive asses so many times? You should be proud of all things I hate you about. Hated once. What is your name?"
"Liz..."
"Wrong. What is your name?"
"Scott Summers".
"Wrong again. Mr. Scott Summers a.k.a. Cyclops, The Fearless Leader of X- Men. Keep that in mind now. Keep that in mind forever. Every time you will want all this world around you to disappear, just picture my sexy muzzle and say aloud, who are you."
She took step back, then another, and another one, until her face dissolved among hundreds of other faces.
Elizabeth Braddock was gone again quicker than somebody could realize that, quicker than an eye could notice her absence. And Scott continued to stand on the platform, motionless, like a statue, and nobody could really see the direction he was looking in...
He was standing without moving for a long time, deep in his thoughts, never hearing surprised exclamations and loud whispers behind his back. If he looked back, he would see, that the crowd has stopped its chaotic movement, divided onto two parts. All eyes were staring at the main gate of the railway station. There, leaning against the wooden doors, a naked woman was standing. She was trying to stand on her feet, trembling and staring wildly around. Well, she wasn't completely naked -- all her body was covered with a substance, reminding of a mix of the sand and ash, and dirt, her long, so dirty, that it seemed to be black, hair streamed down her stomach. But all this wasn't so shocking comparing to the fact, that the woman was burning. Literally. Pale orange tongues of flame were dancing on her skin, never causing harm. The woman seemed to be comfortable with this weird kind of closing, she didn't really notice it.
Finally her wild gaze stopped, focusing on Cyclops' back. She made a hoarse sound, that didn't sound alike any known in English language word, and, roaming from side to side like she was going to fall she started to make her way to him.
Scott came back to reality and the first thing he saw were an eyes of old lady, popping out her head and staring onto something behind him. Her suitcase had fell on the floor, all clothes in mess. He hadn't enough time to even wonder about the reasons, because somebody grabbed him by the shoulders.
Jean Grey, or at least a person, a creature, that used to be her once, pressed her body against her lover, trying to stay awake, although the cold haze of unconsciousness had already filled her brain. The flames on her skin didn't expanded on him, he felt just something trembling and cold through his coat , and then he turned around to see...
"Scott", Jean whispered before falling in his arms, unconsioness.
Like a mythical siren from ancient legend, she appeared from the water earlier this day, when all rescue and reconstruction operations in Canada were already over. Actually, society was again captured with Madonna/Christina/Britney kiss on TV and already forgot about the ruined dam and rebellious waves of the lake, breaking free about a month ago.
Two fishermen were the only witnesses of her appearing again here, on the other side of the line, in the world of alive people. They could only watch in shock as she slowly got near, ruining all chemical laws and burning in pale cold flame in the water.
"Hey, lady", one of them, who's name was Adam, finally found his tongue deep inside his throat. "You need help".
Burning "lady" finally stepped on the solid ground, covered with cold February snow and didn't pay any attention to his words. After 37 days of laying on the river bottom, trapped in the cage of complicated biological processes, she didn't want hot coffee or a duvet.
Her body wanted to be fed, although her brain had already forgot almost all the words of any language she'd ever knew. But maybe it wasn't the brain of sweet doctor Jean Grey anymore. Maybe something had changed inside the body Scott was pressing to his chest in the ring of shocked people, not making any attempt to stop tears from his eyes.
"Arrggggghhhh", she answered to the invitation to take a cup of warming liquid. Actually, she had already found what she needed. Without any thought inside her brain, she growled again and leaped forward and stick two rows of sharp teeth in fisherman's flesh, stealing his life with two exact bites in neck area.
The survived fisherman was sent to the hospital -- cops hoped they would be able to get a more rational explanation of his friend's disappearing after a couple of weeks of intense therapy. "Was eaten alive by naked woman on fire" -- sounds stupid for police protocol, don't you think?
"What do you think, Professor?" Ororo asked tiredly.
She was sitting on the sofa, watching three different angles of the laboratory on big monitors. Scott never left a chair near Jean's "sarcophagus", that was quickly built right when he brought her home. Glass camera was filled with special gas, that supported the flame on her skin. When fire started to fade itself soon after Jean's arriving, she began to scream hysterically and scratch her skin with long dangerous nails like she was going to get free from it. On the clean from the flame areas a deep wounds started to appear. It was obvious, that she couldn't exist without that special flame yet.
"Did you see Rogue?"
"Yes. And what?"
"The girl is scared. She was in hall, when Scott brought... her. And after that Logan and she disappeared in their room... Rogue's reaction was right. She was the one and only to notice..."
"Notice what?"
"We know and love Jean for so long, that we can't see obvious things. Ororo, I can't feel the creature down there."
He turned his face away from the monitor.
"There is a process inside her. The process, that has to go to the end. But when it be over, I can't promise you, Scott, whoever, that it would be Jean we get. I can't ask Scott to be ready for it after all he was going through, but I can ask you... to be ready... to let her go, if... she want."
"We lost her, then find, and now you're asking me to..."
Jean was still in deep sleep, close to coma, down there , in laboratory. However, the rumor, that sweet and lovely second mother Ms. Jean Grey is alive, spread quickly, and Professor didn't really knew for how long he would be able to keep the laboratory closed for visitors. In rare days like this Professor Charles Xavier felt himself much older, than he really was, and some very small and secret part of his brain started to regret, that one day he opened this school... Of course, he couldn't confess in this.
"She was hungry this morning," he said. "And she found some food. Remember the article about the lost fisherman?"
He left the room with that. Ororo pressed her forehead to the cold surface of the monitor and let a couple of tears fall onto the shiny surface of the table. When you are a mutant, the world around is complicated. Sometimes even too complicated.
"Wouldn't I pay enough?" she whispered to the darkness. "Wouldn't we all pay enough?"
Darkness didn't answer. It never did.
Scott fell asleep at seven in the morning with his eyes burning from constantly looking into his lover's face, searching for any movement, for any sign of life except the weak glimmering of the flame tongues. He was so exhausted physically and emotionally, that didn't feel the vibrations of the glass under his arms.
Jean woke up moments earlier, trying to recognize the place she used to call her second home, sitting from dusk to dawn with her tests and experiments to make the world better. Now, however, she didn't find any associations or memories in her brain. And her body obviously didn't want to be inside the glass capsule, limiting her living space.
"Scott", her lips said.
She knew the name of the man, who cared about her so much. She also felt some sort of connection, that helped her to find him, only him inside the crowd. But it was all. No internal warmth, no desire to hold him or to kiss him, or to be with him, just to be near... However, she felt quick sharp something, when he put the glass cover up, and she was again in his arms. He was whispering something, kissing her forehead, touching her hair and crying, and she knew only, that these people want somehow to limit her actions, her space. Maybe this knowledge was an echo of Jean's telepathy, which now was gone. Forever.
She turned her face to the left to find an empty glass. Continuing to stroke his back, she reached her hand and with the power Jean never knew squeezed it until it burst. Scott was too excited to hear the cracking sound. She took the biggest splinter and pushed Cyclops back slightly. Placing one hand on his neck, she repeated: "Scott". Her voice was empty, without any intonation. The mysterious "something" didn't appear, when she stuck her glass "knife" under his ribs.
"Jean", he whispered hoarsely, feeling his strength leaving him with hot blood, pouring on the white floor from the deep cut.
His brain refused to believe, but body was telling him the truth. The heavy smell of blood filled the room. Jean slowly tilted her head to the side, like a bird, studying his pale face attentively. He was already half-dead, his brain in haze, but he really saw the darkness, filling her beautiful green eyes. No more comforting warm shining, no even pupils, just black narrow ovals, empty, but exhaling the freezing breath of death.
When she was sure he lost enough blood, she let him fall on the floor.
Scott wasn't sure remembering this moment in the future about all that he's seen than. The cold tongues of flame disappeared from her skin completely, and dark spots started to expand on it, creating weird patterns of interlacing lines, until almost all her naked body was covered with this specific kind of clothing.
"Arhhhhhh," she breathed out with satisfaction, studying her body for a moment.
Then she turned to him, kneeling, but not touching anymore. Touching the center of her chest with the tip of the finger, she croaked, making every letter clear:
"Phoenix."
The creature, that used to be Jean once, just touched the iron doors with her hands, and her eyes exploded with dangerous red lightning. Doors opened, although the new creature didn't know the key code, and shut loudly behind her back. Whoever she was now, she was gone. Again. And Scott didn't really knew, whether she stoke that glass under his ribs or directly in his soul...
Run, run, run, run, run...
Where to?
She stopped immediately, hiding among dead faces of the marble statues, being afraid to move. Another question, the third, actually. Listening to the breathing and heartbeat, she didn't know, she was acting just like Wolverine, first appearing at Xavier's mansion couple of years ago. And the voice was the same...
"Arggggghhrrrr..." she roared, shaking her head wildly.
Professor shook his head. The new creature's brain wasn't formed yet -- Jean (he still believed, that it is possible to find her inside the creature, who called herself "Phoenix") lived with primal, simplest instincts only. She felt fear of modern world's rhythm and sound, finding a shelter on the old cemetery, where everything was relatively quiet, she felt anger, when he tried to manipulate her, but rage was not even her basic feeling or instinct -- it was her. The process was almost completed physically, but on psychological level she was still an animal, running from herself, from her home, from the people, who cared about her.
"So?" Ororo asked.
Rogue and she spent last four hours, fighting for Scott's life. Charles blamed himself for feeling the danger, but doing nothing to prevent troubles. To tell the truth, for the first time since Magneto had betrayed him, he felt so distracted. He woke up in cold sweat this morning, because in his hears, inside his brain he felt the vibrations of Scott's heart, slowing down with every second.
They saved him. He was half-dead after the operation, but they have stopped the massive internal bleeding, that could kill the Fearless Leader. Ororo always helped Jean in laboratory, but for Rogue it was the first experience of that kind. Five times she threw the scalpel away, rushing to the bathroom to let out her breakfast, and supper, and dinner. "I saw... I saw his heart, when Ororo cut his ribcage open. It was... it was moving..." she cried, never bothering to wash her hands from blood, when Cyclops' life wasn't already in danger. Charles touched her wet from sweat forehead and simply said: "Forget." And she did, falling into Logan's arms, asleep.
"I'm afraid to break her. That's enough pressure for now. Her brain is very fragile, I am afraid to provoke something... Dangerous."
"For Christ sake, Professor, she is a naked woman without thoughts in her head, somewhere in the city. Police can find her any moment, and..."
"It already did. She broke a neck of police officer... We got to stop her, because, I'm afraid, we are the only people, who can do it. Get ready the jet and take Logan... I will guide you... and her."
"But if..."
"Be careful."
He left the room to "capture" the mind of one of his first pupils and one of his dearest children again.
"Jean".
"Arrrrrrrr..."
"Jean".
Arrrrhhhhhhh..."
"Jean".
The creature, that used to be Jean Grey, shook her head again and again, but the name just stoke inside her brain like a splinter. And with every second the sound of it became more and more natural, like it was her own name.
"Phoenix", she groaned, leaning down to the roof of the small church, when a big flying machine appeared on the horizon. She watched, as two people came from it, looking for something or somebody. With the grace of a big dangerous predator, she crawled to the very edge of the roof, getting ready to jump and destroy, like she did with that policemen. He wanted to capture her, wanted to close her in the iron cage. No, mister, sorry. His dried blood left dark red spots on her face, which she didn't bother to clean.
"Jean", the voice repeated again. Normally
She shuddered, and the big man from the flying machine somehow felt the vibration.
"See her?" Ororo asked, looking around.
"Feel. Somebody, but not Jean."
Ororo followed his gaze and met the pair of black furious eyes. Eyes narrowed, and their owner disappeared from sight.
"Logan, what about a little flight?"
"I prefer ladders, ya know. Especially after the Statue Of Liberty events..."
She didn't listen to the end, focusing on the wind, clouds and sun. The hurricane appear from nothing, without any obvious reason the blue sunny sky was closed by the heavy dark October clouds within a seconds. After another moment, it was difficult to stay on his feet even for Wolverine. Old trees, encircling the cemetery, bent to the ground, losing their last golden clothing. Before Logan could protest, he was grabbed by the arm, and the yellow grass suddenly became too distant. In the next second he was standing on the roof and looking into the empty eyes of the person he used to know, like and respect.
Black patterns on her skin started to disappear about an hour ago, after the long fight her body finally accepted the new power, the new essence. Her eyes became clearer, too, although nobody had a doubt they wouldn't be magic green as before. She took another step back, baring her teeth.
"She doesn't want to go with us", Logan reported, stepping forward and getting ready to catch the predator before him.
"Jean", Ororo whispered in despair, finally seeing with her own eyes all Professor was talking about.
Approximately at the same time Professor appeared in laboratory, where Rogue already managed to clear up all the mess. Scott was sleeping, although his sleep was restless: he was moving his lips, his eyes trembled under the eyelids.
"I only take your memories for a moment," Charles said, knowing, that Cyclops didn't hear him anyway. "You don't need them right now".
He touched Scott's forehead with his hand, putting another to his own head, creating a "connection".
Storm felt something inside her head, the feeling she never could describe, but that meant, she's not alone with her absent-minded thoughts. She knew this feeling too well -- time after time in her childhood Charles was "checking" her and other students, just to be sure, they are fine. Actually, after couple of his visits, Liz stopped experiment with joints -- "Betsy, stop!" - ringed in her head each time she reached her hand to the forbidden box under her bed.
Storm touched Wolverine's shoulder lightly; he was tensed and ready to attack each second.
"Wait," she whispered, "He came up with something".
Logan touched his temple -- something was moving there, Professor turned the pages of his memory quickly, but never missing anything important.
"Either it will work, or you were predicted to change and forget about us", Professor sighed and closed his eyes.
Dark creature on the roof suddenly grabbed her head like she was going to tear it off and howled loudly. The chilling sound expanded quickly through light autumn air, and all situation started to remind the scene from the cheap horror movie.
The creature saw a little redhead girl, standing behind her mother and with childish calmness listening to the prophecy of blind old woman named Wanda from the small Southern country in the center of Europe. She saw the same girl, only older, standing before a man in wheelchair with the features of a God. "I know what people want to do, but when I try to change something, they just laugh and then... Each my vision came true. I don't want them in my head. I don't want people to call me crazy just because I already saw what they didn't know yet. I don't want this..." The girl was crying on man's lap... She saw a young woman, who was writing a letter to a man in dark glasses, never finding enough courage to send it. She saw a real woman with same red hair with the same man, in bed, whispering quiet words of love into his hear in the darkness of the bedroom. Flash! Ororo and she in the class, full of children, each of them special. Wait a minute, where did she get the name? Who is... Here she is, right before you. Flash! A pilot seat of the Black Bird... Black what? Flash! The girl named Rogue is dangerous, her mutation is one of the cruelest and weirdest jokes of nature. Flash! Wrong thoughts about Logan. She is interested in him, loving Scott... Scott? with all her heart, but this is simply not right... Flash! Something terrible is about to happen... To them or to you, Jeannie? Both. There is a man with a rotten from anger heart, who wants to see deaths, many deaths, many bleeding bodies. His name is Stryker. Flash! She knows she can fix the problem of the Black Bird, without leaving the jet. She thinks, she can, but... Isn't is that moment of changes the old blind woman was talking about? She hears her voice. It's impossible -- the woman must be dead for many years, and normally she can hear only alive people's thoughts. "Now!" the woman says. Flash! God, Scott, can you ever forgive me? You have to understand, It's not up to me, I changed. I have to go to find out how bad. Flash! Here it is... The moment of truth. Now.
"This is who you used to be. This is who you predicted to be. Not Phoenix. Jean. Make a choice now: take it or leave it", Professor's voice said.
The creature, that used to be Jean Grey once, slowly opened her eyes. Through the haze of tears Ororo Munroe saw comforting green shine, that couldn't fool her. She sobbed and opened her arms to an old friend. There was a moment of fear, there was a moment, when she was afraid to trust to well-known enclosure, but all her doubts flew away, when, crying loudly, Jean Grey leaned to her. They were crying together, even Wolverine, feeling uncomfortable, shed one little tear.
Telepath and telekinetic Jean Grey died in cold water of the Canadian lake and was reborn almost two months later on the roof of the church, where only forever blind and dumb statues were the witnesses of this miracle. Her body accepted the mysterious power of Phoenix, but didn't surrender the mind, heart and soul of Jean Grey.
When he opened his eyes, he thought he was already dead and went to heaven, because like many times before she was standing near his bed, busy with syringes and medicines, wearing her sweet glasses, that made her face look even smarter and prettier. Not wanting to brake the illusion, he watched her through the lashes, but then she did the thing Jean Grey would never did -- she came to the door, taking the duvet, and brought it to the bed, covering him. She didn't make it "fly" right where she needed it. And she didn't entered his brain to check his condition without asking.
"Jean?" he asked carefully, and his heart froze, waiting for her to disappear.
She didn't. She turned to him and smiled the way only real Jean could.
"You are..."
"I'm back, but don't ask me to shut the door from here -- I'm afraid, I can't make gimmicks like this anymore".
She carefully lowered her body to the bed near him and held his head against her chest, trying not to disturb his injured side. Everything felt natural -- like she never was gone, like he never wanted to die from pain and loneliness, like crazy military scientist Stryker never came into their lives.
Defeated, creature, that used to be Jean Grey, disappeared, leaving the real Jean Grey, changed and better, to live and again and again save the humanity.
THE END.