Okie dokie, another chapter for my legions… 52 reviews!!! Yay!! You guys are the best!! I love getting those reviews so much… I read each one, and I was gonna respond to them all in this chapter, but it's too long. I have a short one coming up soon, so if you have any questions or anything you'd like me to respond to, I'll do that soon. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!!! Keep up the good work and I will too!
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"Hello Miss… Braddock, I'm Dr. Cecelia Reyes." The doctor said to Betsy as she read her chart in the middle of the crowded emergency room. Betsy just smiled at her. "You put down that your place of residence is the Xavier Institute?" She was a youngish dark skinned woman with mocha colored hair. She was surprised anyone from the infamous Xavier Institute mutant haven would actually admit to it in public.
"Yes… is that a problem?" Betsy replied.
"Uh, no, I guess not. Let's just check out this wound." The doctor removed the green, now brown, blood soaked bandanna. She gasped; surprised the girl's foot had not been severed. "My god, did you get mauled by a tiger or something?"
"Something like that." Scott mumbled from the other side of Betsy's hospital bed.
"Well, it's going to take a lot of stitches. This'll sting for a second, I'm going to give you a local anesthetic to numb the area, it should wear off in a few hours." Betsy nodded and winced as Dr. Reyes stuck the needle in her lower leg. "There, that wasn't so bad. I'll give that a minute or two to take effect, then I'll be right back." Betsy and Scott both nodded as the doctor left.
Cecelia walked to the main reception counter in the middle of the waiting room, out of sight from her patient. "Hey, Roger?" She got one of the receptionist's attention.
"Yes, Dr. Reyes?"
"What's our policy on treating mutants?" He was slightly surprised by the question.
"We don't." Roger replied simply.
"We don't have a policy or we don't treat them?"
"We don't have a policy… but we don't treat them." He clarified, gesturing with his hands. "Why? Do you have a mutant patient?"
"No." She lied. "I was just curious… So what if one comes in, in need of medical attention?"
"You turn them away, just like any other drug seeker." The doctor was offended by his comments, trying hard to look confused rather than angry.
"But what if they really need medical care?" She looked for a loophole to make it "legal" to treat Betsy.
"Look, Cecelia, would you want your donations and tax dollars going to treat mutants?" He asked rhetorically. "Let 'em start their own damn hospitals." She nodded sheepishly as he got up from behind the counter to continue with his work. She looked around to make sure no one was looking, and crossed Betsy's address off her chart, heavily, so no one could decipher it, then wrote in her own address. Checked around again to make sure she had gotten away with her transgression, then walked back over to Betsy and Scott.
"Do you feel anything?" Dr. Reyes asked Betsy, who shook her head in response. "Good." She sat back down on the stool next to Betsy, and began sewing up the gashes on her leg.
"What are your powers?" Betsy asked bluntly, out of the blue.
"Excuse me?" The doctor replied, flustered.
"I'm a telepath." Betsy explained nonchalantly. "When you shout to yourself, 'don't give them any clues you're a mutant.' I can hear it, whether I want to or not." Dr. Reyes looked at Betsy and Scott, then went back to her job, trying to make as little fuss as possible over what Betsy had said.
"I create a force field a few inches around my body. It's completely impermeable." She grumbled, reluctantly admitting Betsy was right.
"Here," Scott said, handing her a slip of paper. She took it between her middle and index fingers. "It's our phone number at the Xavier Institute. We can give you help controlling your powers--"
"I do fine on my own, thanks." She interrupted him. He ignored her statement and went on with his speech.
"There's no pressure. And we could use another doctor around the house right now." His subtle plea for help forced her to take a second look at the paper.
"You mean you need another doctor besides Dr. McCoy?" Betsy and Scott both nodded. Cecelia looked at the paper again and pondered working along side the famous Dr. Henry McCoy. Then she sighed and grew frustrated. She handed the paper back to Scott. "If anyone finds this I'll lose my job." She said as if they should have already known.
"Well, if you ever change your mind, just think really loudly and one of us will hear it." Betsy said pleasantly. The doctor forced out a smile then went back to work sewing up Betsy's ankle.
* * *
When Betsy got home, she decided the sheer stress of the day was going to make her heart explode. The urge very rarely struck her, but tonight, she decided she wanted a cigarette. She opened the door to Remy's room to find Rogue, sitting on his bed, hugging one of his shirts. Rogue looked at Betsy on her crutches. Betsy was confused.
"It smells like him." Rogue explained. Betsy rolled her eyes.
"Oh, you mean like cheap cigarettes and toxic cologne?" Betsy hobbled to the dresser and began searching through the drawers.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Rogue asked. She was surprised at Betsy's bitterness.
"I just wouldn't lament over him if I were you." She said coldly. She found a pack of cigarettes and plucked one out. "Can I have a lift to the roof?" Betsy asked Rogue. "My foot's still pretty numb."
"You smoke?" She asked confused.
"Sometimes, just to calm my nerves, and this has certainly been one of the most depressing days of my life."
"Only one of?" Rogue said, finding anything more depressing than a massacre unfathomable.
"The day Kwannon died." Betsy nodded.
"Who?" The name was familiar to Rogue, but it had been a long time since she heard it. Betsy rolled her eyes.
"The assassin… she… uh… was me." Betsy tried to explain.
"Oh, is that who that was?" Rogue memory had been quickly jogged. Betsy looked down at the floor sadly. "Yeah, I'll take ya up there." Rogue relented. She was suspicious as she picked Betsy up and carried her out the window. She set her down gently on the roof, then took a few steps back, her 7th sense ringing clearly in her ears. "Betsy, what's going on?" Rogue asked again, knowing Betsy hadn't been completely honest.
"I'll tell you later." Betsy snapped, confirming Rogue's suspicions.
"No, Ah wanna know what's goin' on, now." Rogue demanded.
"Look, I hate thinkin' about it, much less sayin' it aloud. I'll tell you all at the briefing later, that way I only have to say it once." Betsy yelled at her. Rogue decided to back off.
"The prof called just before you guys got home, they're at the airport right now, they oughtta be home in about an hour. We're having the meeting as soon as they get here." Betsy nodded as she put the cigarette in her mouth and tried to switch on her lighter. "Just call when you're ready to come down, Ah guess." Betsy nodded again as she finally got her cigarette lit. Rogue stepped off the roof and went back inside. Betsy sat on the roof in the cold fall night. She breathed in deeply as she let the clear air clean out the smoke she'd just inhaled, and then took another drag on the cigarette. She wiggled her toes to feel the anesthetic wearing off, finally. She looked up at the stars as she felt a familiar presence. Her heart quickly solidified to stone.
"What are you doing here?" She said callously to the shady figure standing behind her.
"I wanna help, Betts." He replied. Betsy turned around to see Remy's red eyes glowing in the darkness.
"Haven't you helped enough already?" She mumbled sarcastically as he came to sit beside her.
"Whadda you mean?" he asked as he looked at her like a puppy dog. She was unmoved by his profound innocence.
"Don't play dumb with me, Remy." She coldheartedly took another puff on the cigarette.
"I didn' know…" He muttered, exposed and ashamed.
"You didn't know?" She repeated. She blew smoke in his face as she yelled at him. "You didn't know? You hired Vertigo, Sabretooth, Harpoon, Scrambler and Riptide… you led them into the Morlocks' tunnels, you knew how much he despised their mere existence, Remy… and you didn't know?" She paused as if she were going to wait for him to respond. "What did you think they were going to do, have a tea party?!"
"I'm sorry." He mumbled.
"If you didn't know, it's simply because you didn't want to." She said harshly.
"Look, Betts, once I realized… I left. I couldn'--"
"You left them to do their job." She interrupted him coldly. He paused and moved the gravel around on the roof beside his leg. He drew pictures in it with his finger.
"I wanna make it right." He finally offered.
"Oh, well why didn't you just say so!" His face lit up at her sudden change of heart. "Okay, here's what you do," He nodded intently. "We need for you to bring forty people back to life, and ten more back from the brink." He finally got the clue, but she didn't end his guilt trip. "Or, you could just go back in time and stop it before it happened, like you had the opportunity to do, but for some illusive reason, decided not to." She couldn't possibly make him feel any more responsible than he already did, but she was angry, and someone had to take the blame. He was getting frustrated with her.
"I'm sorry." He muttered again.
"Sorry for what, Remy? Sorry for what you did, or that the master thief himself got caught? You wouldn't have ever told us, would you?" He looked down at the ground to avoid her piercing gaze. "No, no you wouldn't have. Remy LeBeau likes his secrets." She tossed the burnt cigarette off the roof. "It's no wonder she threw you out." The thought made Remy perk up again.
"How is she?" Remy asked as he stood up and walked to edge of the roof.
"Rogue? You killed forty people this morning, and you're worried about Rogue? You stupid, horny, hick. Wolverine was right not to trust you. And to think I stood up for you." She struggled to stand, so he went to help her, but she pushed him back. "Do you even think you deserve her forgiveness? Do you?" She screamed at him as she hobbled closer to him, back near the edge of the roof. He shook his head, acknowledging his self doubt and submissiveness, but she wouldn't relent. With every affront she threw at him, she pushed him back, disgusted with him and his egocentrism, caring about his own absolution rather than the lives he'd cost this morning. "Do you think you deserve any our forgiveness?"
"I know, I'm sorry." He pleaded. "I shoulda done something, I know, I'm sorry I didn't."
"Get out of here, Remy. Go away. You don't deserve this place. You don't belong here. You're not welcome here anymore!" Her last push was enough to finally force him off the roof and out her sight. At first, she felt relived. But as she stood there, a sudden wave of remorse overtook her, and she peered over the edge. There was nothing. He had vanished. She did a mental scan, and could feel no presence. He was gone. Once she decided she hadn't actually hurt him, she allowed herself to fill with anger once again. Good riddance.
* * *
"Where's my money?" Sabretooth growled as paced back and forth through the spacious library like a caged lion.
"Where's my redhead?" The woman asked back. She sat in a large, leather arm chair in front of a fire place drinking a cosmopolitan. She wore long white linen pants, a white, sleeveless top with a white sweater, and white sandals, despite the autumn season outside. Her long blonde hair and blue eyes glistened in response to the dancing flames before her.
"You hired me to tell you what Essex was up to. The X-Man was a bonus." Sabretooth answered back.
"I made it very clear, Mr. Creed, that you would get your money as soon as I got the Phoenix. And you failed." Her elitist British accent rang in his ears like nails on a chalk board. He approached the woman as if she were his prey, ready to pounce. She didn't move a muscle, merely transubstantiated the chemical makeup of her skin to one more solid than rock, diamond.
"Mr. Creed, perhaps if you were to continue in your best efforts to find our Phoenix, my associate would be happy to pay you for the services you've already rendered." An old man, also British, who had been watching the interaction between the woman and the beast, stepped in to prevent a confrontation. "Isn't that right?" He asked the woman. He skin was now normal flesh and she didn't respond, rather she sipped on her drink. "Isn't that right, Miss Frost?" He asked again. She still didn't respond. "Emma!" He finally shouted at her.
"Alright, Sebastian." She said as she stood up and walked past him behind a large desk. She pulled a thick envelope filled with bills in American and English currency out of one of the drawers. She selected a few hundreds and handed them to Sabretooth. "Bring me the Phoenix, Creed, and don't screw it up this time." Sabretooth grunted at her as he grabbed the money. "Now get out of here, you're shedding cat hair on my oriental rug." He looked back to growl at her as he left the room.
"Don't worry, my dear. We will have the Phoenix." Sebastian reassured her. "In fact, I believe we should celebrate… Hellfire style." He smiled with pride.
"Count me out. I have work in the morning." Frost replied as she began to leave the room as well.
"I don't understand why you insist on working with those filthy brats." He sighed.
"There's one brat I'm particularly interested in, as a matter of fact, Sebastian." She explained over her shoulder. "You remember the Braddocks, don't you? James and Elisabeth once had membership to our inner circle… about the time as the Worthingtons."
"Ah, yes…" Sebastian recalled.
"I'm just going to keep tabs on Betsy Braddock, make sure she won't foil our plans." Sebastian chuckled evilly as Emma left the room.
* * *
"We've got 43 dead, 22 survivors, eight of which are in critical condition. Two died about an hour ago." Logan informed the assembled party. "The porcupine woke up a little while ago. His powers are returning to normal, but he's still suffering from a gaping hole in his lung."
"Logan, please." Ororo begged him to spare her the details of her nephew's grave condition.
"Sorry." He replied sincerely. "We've begun transport to Muir Island, almost half are there already. We've buried about 15 or so, and we'll continue our efforts into tomorrow." The professor nodded.
"I'm going to Scotland once every Morlock has a grave to be remembered by." Callisto demanded. No one argued with her.
"Betsy, I believe it's your turn." Everyone turned to stare at her, Logan, Callisto, Storm, Rogue, Scott, Kurt, Kitty, Peter, and all the new recruits, as the professor addressed her. She sighed heavily, trying one last time to skillfully compile all she knew into a coherent form.
"Earlier this afternoon, the Phoenix, an alien life form, inhabited Jean's body." Callisto scoffed and rolled her eyes as this information didn't concern her or her people, which she always thought should be the priority.
"What is the Phoenix, exactly?" The professor asked.
"The Phoenix is the soul of the universe… a protector of worlds." She answered prophetically.
"Why did it take Jean?" Scott inquired. Betsy shrugged her shoulders.
"It chose Earth because it felt we needed protecting. Why it chose Jean, I dunno." Scott sighed and looked at the floor, dissatisfied. "The Phoenix has the power to bend reality to her very whim. The entity needed a sentient form to perform its duties."
"How do you know about all of this?" Xavier posed.
"A big, fat folder in Sinister's files. He found out about it from a time traveler the Phoenix inhabited some time in the future. She came here briefly to warn him… I think her name was Rachel Dayspring."
"Time traveler?" Kurt questioned wearily.
"Bend reality." Betsy reiterated.
"Warn him about what?" Scott probed.
"Bend reality" Betsy said again. "That's an awesome power. If the Phoenix for some reason changed its motives, we could be in serious trouble."
"Is that likely to happen?" Xavier asked.
"I don't think so. The universe as we know it has remained unchanged, with the minor super nova here and there, for billions of years and so has its soul."
"So exactly how much did you know was gonna happen before it did?" Rogue finally spoke.
"Um… well… we knew about the power from Dayspring, and I had a vision , so we knew it would be Jean, but we didn't know when, where, or how." Betsy told all she knew.
"What about the Marauders?" Callisto's impatience finally got the best of her.
"Oh, right. The only one we know for sure is alive is Sabretooth. The others could still be in the tunnels, they could be dead… or they could be back at their home base. We do know, however, they worked by the word of Sinister. They slaughtered the Morlocks simply because he deemed them unworthy of sharing the same gene pool with other mutants." Betsy continued.
"Is that all?" Callisto barked, offended by Sinister's ideals.
"Well…" Betsy tossed the information around in her head. "This may not mean anything to you, Callisto, but…" She paused as this was her last chance to keep it secret and no one besides her would ever have to know.
"But what?" Bobby pressed.
"All five were hired and led into the tunnels, by…" She paused again and sighed. "By Gambit."
"What?!" Rogue shouted furiously.
"He didn't know." Betsy tried not only to calm Rogue, but to defend Remy as she wished she had before.
"How do you know? Did you see him?" Rogue shouted frantically.
"No." Betsy lied. "I just… know." Rogue stormed off up the stairs, everyone let her go. Betsy hobbled to the foot of the stairs after her, and then stopped to think. No one moved when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it." Scott answered. When he opened the door, he was surprised by who he saw. "Dr. Reyes?"
"Can I come inside?" She asked meekly.
"Of course." Scott said as he moved to the side and gestured her in. "Uh, everybody, this is Dr. Reyes. She stitched up Betsy's leg earlier." He introduced her.
"Betsy, I thought I told you to stay off that foot." Cecelia scolded Betsy, who was still at the foot of the stairs, pondering whether or not to chase after Rogue. She merely lifted her wrapped ankle, balancing on the other one. Peter took the initiative to sweep her into his arms and carry her up the stairs.
"I am taking you to bed." He informed her. She was too tired to resist.
"How can we help you, Dr. Reyes?" The professor said as he wheeled himself in front of her.
"You must be Charles Xavier." She said bewildered as she extended a hand to him. He nodded and shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"And you too." He responded, ever the diplomatic gentleman.
"C'mon, everyone. Get to bed. It's been a loooong day." Ororo ushered everyone else out of the room. "We'll let you all sleep through tomorrow, but then you have to go back to school." Cecelia watched as all the children ran up the stairs.
"I saw what happened on the news." Dr. Reyes said to the professor. "About the massacre. I'm sure you have everything under control by now, but if you still need help, I'd be happy to."
"Your assistance would be greatly appreciated." Xavier smiled at her tiredly.
* * *
Rogue sat in her bed under the covers with her knees at her chest and her chin on top. She stared at the wall as she listened to Betsy change for bed.
"Why would he do this t'me?" Rogue finally broke the awkward silence.
"Why he would do this to any of us… I don't know." Betsy said. "Sinister's a mysterious man, he could've offered Remy any number of things. He could've called off his debt… I just hope whatever it was, it was worth it."
"No, nothing could be worth this." Rogue snapped. "He offered to take away mah powers for me, and Ah wouldna done it."
"Well, not in hindsight. Remy didn't know what they were going to do. If he did, I'm sure he wouldn't have done it." Betsy tried to comfort her, sitting next to her on the bed.
"How do you know?" Rogue whispered. Betsy paused for a moment then decided to come clean.
"I spoke with him." She finally admitted. Rogue's green eyes got wide.
"You what?" Rogue bordered on yelling at Betsy as her eyes flashed blue, showing Carol was itching to fight for Rogue.
"Up on the roof earlier." Betsy explained. "He was there. He wanted to help and I got angry and said he wasn't welcome here."
"You lied t'me." Rogue said, gaining a grip on the situation.
"Yes." Betsy answered. "I was angry, I shouldn't have… I wanted to hurt him, not you… I'm sorry." Tears began to well up in Betsy's eyes as she finally began to face the consequences of her actions. "I pushed him off the roof." Betsy said.
"YOU WHAT?!" Rogue did yell this time as she pushed Betsy off the bed and onto the floor.
"I didn't mean to!" Betsy put her hands up in defense as Rogue dropped to the floor on top of her, a knee flanking each of Betsy's hips. Rogue pinned her down by her shoulders.
"You didn't mean to? He didn't mean for any of this!" Rogue shouted.
"I know, I'm sorry, I think he's alright though."
"You think? Thinkin' ain't enough Betts." Rogue brought her hand back to hit Betsy.
"He wasn't there, Rogue. When I looked down, there should've been a puddle of broken bones, but there wasn't any sign of him, physical or otherwise." Rogue lowered her hand and took a second to absorb Betsy's words.
"Ah'm gonna kill you!" Rogue said, putting her hand back up.
"Rogue…" Betsy tried to divert her attention.
"Ah'm gonna kill you!" Rogue punched through the floor boards beside Betsy's ear, showing her she wasn't kidding. Betsy finally decided to accept the punishment for her actions.
"Hit me, Rogue!" Betsy said as she brought her hand back up again.
"Ah'm gonna kill you!... Ah'm gonna… Ah'm gonna…" Rouge's temper diffused, but Betsy braced for impact.
"Do it Rogue! It'll make us both feel better!" She said as Rogue slowed her furious breath.
"Ah'm gonna… learn from my mistakes." Rogue whimpered as she dismounted Betsy. She sat on the floor with her back against the bed frame.
"What?" Betsy mumbled as she sat up next to Rogue.
"Thanks f'r tellin' me… Ah guess." Rogue brought her knees to her chest again and folded her hands across her ankles. She put her forehead down on top of her knees as she began to cry.
"I'm sorry, Rogue." Betsy said, offering the best consolation she could. "I'll look for him, every waking minute. I'll find him for you."
"You said it yourself… He probably doesn't wanna be found." Rogue sobbed. "Ah'm sick of pushin' people away."
* * *
Peter was situating himself in his room when Kitty knocked on the door frame.
"Come in, Katya." He said. She danced in holding something behind her back.
"I'm sorry about your sister, Peter." She said as she sat down on Scott's bed. He sighed and looked at the clothes he'd folded up on his bed.
"I miss her." He mumbled as he carefully put the clothes in his dresser.
"I'm sorry you had to come back to this…" She continued, referring to the morning's massacre.
"I missed the worst of it." He identified his silver lining. "How are you, Katya?" Peter diverted the attention from himself.
"I can't really sleep." She said, shrugging her shoulders and looking at the clock on Scott's nightstand. It was nearly four in the morning. "How come you haven't gone to bed?" She asked as he continued to pace about the room, unpacking his suitcase.
"Jet lagged." He stated simply.
"Oh." Kitty couldn't think of anything else to say, but she didn't want to go back to her empty room and sit in the dark, alone with her thoughts. "Oh, I got you something." She finally remembered the gift she'd set on the bed behind her. "I know Christmas is still a couple of months away…"
"You do not have to, Katya." He said humbly.
"No, you have to. I saved up my allowance for, like, three weeks, and there was this totally cute pair of shoes at the mall – and they were on sale – and I turned them down, just for you." She quilted Peter into taking the gift. He sat down on his bed and carefully unwrapped the gift as if he were planning to save it and use it for later.
"Oh… Katya…" Peter said as he saw the gift.
"Betsy and Remy told me you liked to draw, and I figured you guys left Magneto in a hurry so you wouldn't have anything… well, you know." She blushed at her own generosity. Peter looked at her, speechless, then he looked down at the expensive set of drawing pencils and sketch books she'd given him.
"You will have to let me draw you sometime." He finally muttered.
"Oh, I don't know about that… it depends how good you are…"
"Thank you." He finally said, suffocating her small frame in a hug.
