THE HEAVENS OPEN
By Stormkeeper (stormkpr@usa.net)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
*****************
Jean sat on the bed of the small room. She was really getting sick of this. She could not detect how much time had passed; she only knew that she was getting bored. Dagron was brilliant, she decided. He left her cooped up in this bare room without a single distraction. There was nothing in here to look at or read, nothing to take her mind off her predicament. For a smart woman who enjoyed using her mind in several ways, this attack of boredom was almost as bad as a physical assault.
She fought against the fears that inevitably crept up. 'What if all the X-men were dead? What if they've all been captured?' Jean forced that voice to silence itself. This was exactly what Dagron wanted, she knew. He wanted her to despair, wanted her to believe that all hope was gone and that she would have nothing to lose by helping him.
Jean heard the door to her room opening. She didn't even want to look up this time; it was bound to just be Dagron again, trying to coax her into working with him, helping him master his powers. But she gasped when, instead of Dagron, she found Remy LeBeau standing before her!
The instant he laid eyes on her, he signaled his communicator. "Found her. Get down here, Wolverine." Jean resisted the urge to run up to Gambit and hug him.
Within the span of another second, Nightcrawler and Wolverine teleported down from the shuttle. Wolverine immediately spotted the collar around her neck, unsheathed his claws, and destroyed the inhibitor.
"Oh thank goodness," Jean sighed.
Within the passing of another split second, Gambit felt it. He felt the gentle insistence of a telepathic power, a power attempting to gain access to his mind. He had used stealth to easily slip into the Gul Dagronol; he now felt the alien presence trying to be equally furtive in nudging its way into his own mind.
"Fight it, Gambit," Jean breathed, seeing what he was experiencing.
"We ain't fightin' anything," Wolverine said. He looked at Nightcrawler. "Let's get the hell outta here."
Gambit squeezed his eyes shut and braced a hand against the wall, though he wasn't aware of his physical actions at that point. He had to concentrate on the battle for his mind. He threw down as many mental barriers as he could, attempting to thwart Dagron. Still, the wizard continued to worm his way in, sneaking around barriers, climbing over walls that Gambit erected. Gambit's heartbeat sped up and he started to slump to the floor. He concentrated harder, erecting more barriers, and hardier ones.
And then suddenly it stopped. Dagron's attempted invasion of his mind ceased at once. Gambit looked at Jean.
"I've got my mind inside his….I'm putting a hold on him," Jean explained. Remy looked at her. She appeared strained, but she was handling it well.
Wolverine gave Kurt the look, and the small monk quickly gestured for each of his three teammates to touch him. He teleported them back up to the shuttle.
As Wolverine signaled the jubilant crew of Freedom via his communicator, Jean replayed the last words she'd heard from Dagron. They echoed about her mind.
'You haven't heard the last of me!'
***********
We got the hell out of orbit of that planet (which I now understand is called Nari Silara.) We set a course to warp towards earth.
Once everyone was settled back aboard the ship, we had a meeting. Gambit told us what he had learned from those underground people, the Nalarians. We had to deal with the fact that we really accomplished nothing on this trip to Nari Silara --- Rogue was still in a coma and we'd changed nothing for Dagron other than preventing him from using Jean to become even more powerful. Jean said that her telepathic "hold" on the wizard was temporary and she was certain that he was free by now. So he was basically just as powerful as ever, and he was still amassing a fleet of starships (based on our shuttles.) We knew that Dagron was a menace to the people of Nari Silara, and possibly to us as well. Once his starships were ready, he could come after us. Or the people of earth.
So I suppose I don't need to say that we had a lot of discussion about this. Many argued that we had already done enough damage and should never visit that planet or area of space again. But I looked at Gambit during the meeting, and he articulated a view that some of the others espoused as well.
"Dey said dat we brought the shuttle here, and dat it's gonna be used as a weapon. Dey said we gotta face the consequences," Gambit said.
"I don't dispute that," Jean began, "but we're in no shape to take on Dagron now."
Cyclops sighed. "There is truth to what he says, though. It is partially our fault if Dagron grows more powerful. And if he kills more people. But we just can't take him on now. We have Rogue in a coma, and children aboard this ship."
"We never intended this to be the type of mission where we go into battle," Jubilee added.
"Perhaps at some point, we can return on a mission specifically to stop him," Hank conjectured. "Maybe once Storm has rejoined us, and the children are left safely on An'zhina. Perhaps we can also enlist the Professor to assist."
"We could do that," Jeanne-Marie began, "but it's still more interference with that planet. We've interfered with these people enough. More interference means more trouble. Can we not just leave well enough alone? We've been enough of a disaster for the people of Nari Silara, and I don't think we can do much of anything to make it better. Let's just get back on our way to earth."
That's basically what we decided (after a few hours of debate. I figured I don't need to write it all out – you can kinda get the drift from here.) We didn't dismiss the possibility of returning someday, but we wanted to continue on our mission to earth. I looked at Gambit, though. He did not look happy.
************
Immediately following the meeting in which the X-men decided to resume their journey towards earth, Jean Grey followed Remy LeBeau to sick bay. She could barely keep pace with the long strides of his strong legs.
As much as Jean longed to hold her children, her love for and duty towards her friend Rogue beckoned too. (And she had sat with Charlotte on her lap during the meeting, which had been partly fulfilling.) She knew she would have plenty of time to cuddle with the kids soon.
Jean positioned herself beside Rogue's bed. She closed her eyes and held her friend's hand, as she began to delicately probe her mind. Gambit stood by, observing.
'Love shall conquer all.' It was such a cliché, but it was what the Nalarians told him. 'Well, I love Rogue more den life itself. So why ain't she outta dat coma??'
Jean gave a look towards Gambit. "Well?" he asked.
"I don't know whether this is good or bad news," Jean began. "I can sense that Rogue is still all **there.** Her consciousness, her memory, her personality….it's all still there and in tact." She paused, and then spoke again, "But I can't reach her, Gambit. It's as if it's stored away in a locked box."
"You were able to use your powers to stop Dagron," Gambit said. His voice was soft; the words did not come across as accusatory.
"That was different," Jean said, with equal gentleness in her tone. "What did those Nalarians say to you? That Dagron himself wouldn't know how to reverse the damage he caused? But Gambit…I will keep trying. I will continue to try to unlock that box, and reach her." She turned her head and gave a quick smile in the direction of Rogue's face. Rogue looked as if she were sleeping peacefully. "I advise you to do the same," Jean then continued, looking at Gambit. "You might not have telepathic powers, but you do love her as much as anyone here. More than. Keep talking to her and holding her hand. I honestly believe that will do some good."
And that is what Gambit continued to do. He resumed his place in the chair beside Rogue's bed and did not move from that spot. He held her hand and spoke gently to her. After several hours, someone brought him a meal which he did not touch. Gambit kept his vigil by Rogue's bed and continued to speak to the woman he loved.
*****************
"Thank God you're back," Scott whispered to Jean. The children had been put down for bedtime that evening, in their adjoining room. Scott and Jean lay on the bed facing each other, naked and spent. Their lovemaking had been very tender and affectionate, but with more urgency than usual too. As if they couldn't wait to be together in the most intimate way.
"Thank Gambit," Jean said, with a smile.
Scott gave an ironic half smile, and lowered his eyes.
"What is it?" Jean softly asked, reaching a hand around to stroke his face.
"Just feeling a moment's worth of guilt, about how I felt about Gambit when he first joined the X-men."
Jean smiled. Cyclops hadn't even wanted Gambit on the team, and had argued with the Professor over that decision. Jean reached for his hand. "Live and learn. Chalk it up to experience," she said, readjusting their position. Their arms and legs were wrapped around each other's.
"And be thankful everything turned out alright." Scott then quickly added, "Except for Rogue." He took a breath. "Do you think she'll recover?"
"I don't know, Scott. There's nothing that Hank can do for her physically. It all has to do with her mind. And I can't reach her."
"Do you think the Professor could?"
"Gambit asked me that same question," Jean said. She remembered that he had looked unsurprised at her reply. "I told him that my telepathy is, more or less, at the same level as the Professor's now. I said there could be a chance that he could do something that I couldn't, but I did not think it was at all likely."
"And Gambit was satisfied with that?" Scott asked. "I'm just surprised that he wouldn't exhaust any and every possibility."
"Well, Gambit knows that I spoke the truth. I truly doubt that Charles could do something for Rogue that I could not." Jean paused, "Besides, I think he's focussed on something the Nalarians told him. About **love** being the way out of this for Rogue. Not that the Professor doesn't love her too, but it's not the same, obviously."
"True. And it's not like it's all over now. Sometimes it takes a while for people to come out of comas. Maybe Rogue just needs time."
A thought then wormed its way inside Jean's mind. It was not a thought she cared to verbalize, but she felt she had to. She asked softly. "What about the Endarians?"
"The Endar----." He abruptly untwined himself from the embrace and sat up. "Shit." He then dropped his head into his hands. "Shit," he repeated.
"Well, maybe they wouldn't be able to help her," Jean said, sitting up and putting an arm around Scott's shoulders. "They have advanced science and medicine, but nothing they have given us indicates that they are more advanced than the Professor or I when it comes to minds. Marina has said they have no mutants, so they can't have mind control experts who are on the level of the Professor and I."
"Jean. Gambit rescued you. We **owe** him. And even if he hadn't rescued you…." he let his voice trail off. "I'm surprised he hasn't asked us already to turn the ship around and go back towards An'zhina." Scott shook his head. "Maybe that's what we should do now. I'll approach Queen Marina and ask her to help Rogue. What does it matter? I'm already a-----"
Jean gently placed her hand over Scott's mouth. "Don't be ridiculous, my love. What you are is a caring and loving man, who takes better care of his team than they'll ever know or appreciate." She paused. "No, I take that back. They **do** all know, deep down, how well you take care of the X-men and they appreciate it in their own ways." She gently placed her arms around Scott's chest. "Please, my love. Let's just give this a rest and give it some time. Let's see if Gambit can help Rogue to recover. Let's wait for **him** to suggest asking the Endarians for help. I don't think, by the way, that he necessarily views it that we owe him – whatever else anyone might have said about him the past, he is loyal to the team. But whatever we do, let's not start thinking farther ahead than we need to. Let's just calm down and wait."
******************
Storm and Marrow were training in the gym on board the Vengeance one day. They hadn't intended to spar off against each other, but Marrow happened to be inside the gym when Storm entered it for her daily workout.
"Shit, you're good," Marrow breathed, when their session was over and Marrow had been handily defeated. Marrow bit her tongue to keep from heaping more praise on Storm. During this battle, they had agreed not to use their powers. Although Storm's ability to control the forces of nature made her one of the most formidable mutants anywhere, she didn't even need to use it to be menacing in battle. Her fighting reflexes and the strength of her bare hands were mighty in and of themselves.
Marrow caught a brief smile from Storm at her words, and she guessed that Storm knew that Marrow had paid her a rare compliment. "I am glad to still see all that spunk I saw from you, when you used to be an X-man," Storm said.
Marrow turned her back to Storm and reached for the bottle of water near her gym bag. She could not think of a reply to Storm's words, and therefore didn't voice one.
Marrow gathered her things and left the gym. She had a feeling that Storm was going to try to have a real conversation with her, to perhaps ask her whether she missed being an X-man. In truth, Marrow did not miss her days as an X-man, though she had to admit she was glad for the training Storm, Wolverine, Rogue and the others had provided for her back then. Not that, she mused, she really had used it all that much. During their attacks on the crew of FOH ships, the men were all paralyzed by Psylocke's mind control by the time Marrow got her hands on them.
It had been a while now, Marrow realized as she walked down the hall, since they'd had the pleasure of giving retribution to an FOH crew. Since Dani and Storm had temporarily joined their crew, they had still not encountered any FOH ships. The Vengeance was heading roughly in the direction of earth, hoping to find some FOH vessels, but so far none. Patience did not come easily to Marrow, even though she knew that space truly was so vast, it was not that much of a shock that they hadn't had any run-ins.
Marrow reached her room, showered, and then parked herself in front of a computer for a few hours. She often amused herself with the computer games, though Marrow wouldn't go so far as to say that she **liked** the games. They were a good time-killer though. She had been playing the eternally-popular Tetris for years, and was quite good at it now. What Marrow was really looking forward to, of course, would be spending time with Moonstar later in the day.
Although she knew she had Dani was here on board this ship to essentially respond to her beck and call, Marrow knew to give Dani some space occasionally too. She knew that Dani didn't want to see her 24 hours a day---nor did Marrow really want that kind of constant contact either. So she gave Dani her space. And despite that mutant women tended to have higher sex drives than non-mutant women, Marrow only sought sex from Dani a few times per week.
Of course that didn't mean that Marrow had cooled off in her feelings towards the young X-woman. She liked Dani – a lot. She liked looking at Dani's face, which was beautiful to Marrow though not considered conventionally attractive by others. She liked playing with Dani's long and thick hair. She liked it when Dani played her flute for her, and she liked watching Dani eat her meals and drink her wine.
A few days later, Marrow and Psylocke sat on the bridge together.
"Still nothing, huh?" Marrow asked.
Psylocke just scowled at the monitor and shook her head.
"We'll find an FOH ship someday. We just gotta keep looking. Or," Marrow corrected herself, "you just gotta keep doin' your scanning."
"I guess so," Psylocke muttered. Truth be told, Betsy was bored to tears. The days were dragging and she was bored out of her mind. Psylocke craved a change of pace, but there was really nothing she could do. Leaving the Pirates was a possibility, but she certainly wasn't going to tuck her tail between her legs and return to the X-men or An'zhina. Earth was out of the question; as powerful as she was, she did not wish to live underground and on the run for the remainder of her life. And the prospect of getting re-captured by FOH was disturbing, to say the least. She could take a shuttle (or a ship, if they ever did engage another FOH vessel) and strike out on her own, but to do what? For what purpose?
"Hey, Psylocke," Marrow began, interrupting her thoughts. "Can I ask you a favor?"
"Sure." This was **not** going to be good, Betsy thought.
"Can you…do something with Moonstar? Like, make her….you know….." Marrow's voice drifted off and then stopped.
"Make her what, Marrow?" Psylocke asked, impatiently. Marrow had never been good at verbally expressing herself.
"Make her… you know, like in love with me." Marrow hated to admit this to Betsy, but this idea had been brewing in Marrow's mind for weeks. Besides, it was not exactly a secret that Moonstar was not brimming over with love and adoration for Marrow. Her being here was part of a trade, and that was all. Dani went along with what Marrow wanted without protest, but Marrow wasn't stupid. She knew her feelings simply weren't returned.
Betsy was silent for several moments. She sat with her gaze looking out of the bridge's large viewscreen. Psylocke silently weighed the pros and cons. She certainly didn't care whether or not Marrow got her love reciprocated, but as with every decision, she looked at it from the perspective of how it would impact her own life. On one hand, it would put Marrow in a better mood, which could be good for Psylocke.
But Psylocke wasn't really influenced that much by Marrow's moods. And on the down side, Storm would know they'd messed with Dani's mind and wouldn't react well to that at all. That would definitely not be good. They were under pact that Storm would obey the Pirates during her stay here, but still----an angry Storm was not a good thing. Additionally, keeping Dani "in love" with Marrow was not a matter of Psylocke waving a wand and being done with it. It would require maintenance from Betsy. And when it came time to return Dani to the X-men, her teammates would likely be furious if they saw her mind had been violated. Psylocke wanted to keep the Pirates' relations with the X-men the way they were now----with the Pirates decidedly on top.
"I don't think so, Marrow. That kind of stuff never works."
"What do you mean? You're one of the most powerful telepaths in the world!"
"That I am. But Marrow, think about it. Messing with the minds of FOH bastards we plan to kill is one thing. You don't want to screw up the mind of someone you see day in and day out."
"You're skilled enough that you ain't gonna **mess** it up. You know what you're doing."
Psylocke sighed. Marrow wasn't stupid, and convincing her not to do this wouldn't be easy. "Marrow, think about it. You really want someone following you around, dazed and confused, and hopelessly in love with you? You'd get sick of it in a week's time. You like your own space, and you know it."
"Well, I didn't say I wanted her to be like head over heels in love with me. I just want her to….to love me. At least a little."
Psylocke's ears perked up. She had never really heard Marrow express vulnerability like this. Marrow **really** cared about Dani. It was more than lust, Betsy realized, and Marrow was hurting because the feeling wasn't shared. Betsy was a bit shocked to see this fragile side of Marrow.
"There's no way," Psylocke shook her head. "Come on, Marrow, you're a smart woman. If you want her to love you, then give her reason to love you. Using mind control isn't going to accomplish what you really want. Besides….what if someday she's not physically close enough to me for my power to hold her mind? It doesn't work like a gypsy's love spell or anything like that. Dani's going to wake up and realize you've done a number on her. Then she'll really hate you. She'll never forgive you."
That did it. Marrow realized the wisdom of Betsy's answer, and she backed off.
*******************
Light years away, a man sat alone inside an infirmary, speaking to the one he loved. The infirmary was bright, but the halls outside it emanated only darkness and quiet. No one else stirred on board the rest of the starship, except for Cyclops on bridge duty.
"Did I do the right t'ing, chere? Dey asked for our help. I told dem we'd give it. Dey told us dat we owed dem and dey were right. We left the shuttle on deir planet."
Rogue, of course, did not respond to Gambit's anguish. Her eyes remained shut. The only indication of life was the steady blip of one of the monitors to which she was attached. Yet Gambit sat by her side, holding her hand, as he had constantly since the X-men had left Nari Silara.
"We gonna return to dis planet," he allowed. "But is it enough? Is our business on Nari Silara dat much less urgent and less important den our business on earth?" He sighed. "Maybe Jeanne-Marie and the other be right. We'd jus' be doin' more interference and harm to dem. And maybe we really shouldn't go back till we get the Professor to help deal wit' Dagron." But then Gambit voiced another thought. "What can he do, 'dough, dat Jean can't? She's gotta be as powerful a telepat' as he is now. Well, maybe it's the two-'gainst-one strategy."
Gambit stopped speaking and looked at Rogue. Her face and body remained the same – motionless. He wished her eyes were open; he so longed to gaze again at their emerald green expressiveness. He reached one hand and affectionately caressed the side of her face, knowing, at last, what it must have been like for Rogue years ago when he himself had been in a coma. Before Rogue had mastered her powers, one morning she had accidentally touched his skin, sending him into a coma --- a coma from which the Endarians had used their science to revive him. Rogue had told him what it had been like for her when he was unconscious. He had listened, of course, but now he really **knew**, was able to feel the bone-crushing anxiety and the freezing loneliness in his belly.
"Since we leave dis planet now, are we ever really gonna go back?" he wondered. "It don't seem like anyone really wants to go back. Wolverine does, maybe. He seems to t'ink dat it's the honorable t'ing to do. Storm would, if she was here. But Jean and Cyke jus' worried 'bout deir kids." He paused. "I can't get down on dem for dat dough. I worry 'bout ours too," he said, gently laying a hand on the vicinity of Rogue's abdomen.
"Am I crazy to even be **t'inking** 'bout goin' back to Nari Silara? Look what dey do to you…."
***************
It was the morning of the day after we'd set out from Nari Silara and back towards earth. Jean-Paul seemed to now be on an early-bird kick; he'd gotten out of bed way early to work out. I looked at my time piece and surmised that he was now in his session with Kurt --- which was a good thing. I really felt that undergoing counseling was one of the best things he'd ever done.
Once I'd showered and dressed, I headed off for the mess hall. On my way there, I passed Jeanne-Marie in the hallway. We chatted for just a bit. She told me that she finished her breakfast and was now off to her bridge duty shift. During our brief interaction in the corridor, I saw a look on her face, and I can only call it a look of relief. I knew that she wanted to be heading back towards earth and she was glad that was exactly what the X-men were doing now. Jean-Paul and I had talked about this. His twin really wanted to know what became of her son. She desperately wanted to check back in with Stephan---even if only through Jean Grey's telepathy. In a way, I was glad for Jeanne-Marie and that she was getting what she wished. But I also doubted that she'd have anything encouraging to find. Last we'd seen Stephan, he was taken by FOH.
I reached the mess hall and filled my tray with a bowl of oatmeal, slices of apples and pears, a cup of yogurt, and a glass of orange juice. Then I sat down next to Shaman at the table. A few minutes later, I looked up and saw that Wraith had taken a seat across from me.
I hate to say this, but watching Wraith eat can be painful. I've gotten used to looking at him day by day, and I've gotten used to his almost-ghostly see-through skin. But I generally managed to avoid sitting across from him at meals. One time that morning, though, I looked up and saw a lump of chewed-up food sliding down his throat. I looked at my plate again quickly and put the yogurt spoon down, having lost my appetite.
Then I silently chided myself. Sheesh, if anyone should be more tolerant it should be me. I mean, some people find homosexuality 'disgusting', so why couldn't I be more open-minded about other people's differences? I resolved to discuss this with Jean-Paul later on. We'd brushed on the general topic of Hector once before----Jean-Paul was a little put-off by his appearance too---but we hadn't discussed it in depth. I wondered how he felt. And now that he was getting better at sharing his feelings and such, I looked forward to the talk. I wondered had Jean-Paul ever felt revulsion in watching Hector eat?
When I was finished with breakfast, I went straight to sick bay. Gambit was sitting by Rogue's side.
"How's she doing?" I asked softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"No change," Gambit said, his voice a monotone.
"Maybe you oughtta get some rest. Have you even left this room?"
"I left it a few hours ago to take a shower," he said. Indeed, he smelled clean. But his eyes were dreadful---I knew he hadn't slept a wink the night before. I had to crane my head around to even see his eyes; he didn't turn his gaze away from Rogue.
"What about getting some sleep though? And did anyone bring you breakfast?" I asked. I winced then, knowing that I sounded like someone's mother.
"Wolverine did."
"Oh." I then spotted the mostly-uneaten plate of food left on one of the counters.
Helplessly, I placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Is there anything I can do?" I asked, despondent. I then worried, for a split second, about having **again** initiated physical contact with him. One rule for gay guys was to never touch a straight guy, and I'd just done it twice. But this was **Gambit** and he was a friend. I don't think he thought of it the way I did. Or, more accurately I should say, he didn't think of it the way I feared he did.
He then reached for my hand and touched it briefly, in a gesture that conveyed some warmth. His voice sounded hollow and far away. "No."
***************
When I left sick bay, I turned to go down the hall and almost ran right into Jean Grey.
"Hi, Jean," I said. I then added, "It's so good to have you back."
"You have no idea how good it is to be back," she said, smiling and reaching to grasp my hand. She gave it an affectionate squeeze. Jean then looked as if she had something to tell me. "Look, Bobby, I'm going to check in on Rogue again. But afterwards, can you and I go somewhere to talk?"
"Sure. Just beep my communicator when you're ready. Good luck with Rogue."
I had a feeling as to what this talk would be about. I also wasn't all that worried. Jean was easy to talk to and I had always felt comfortable around her. She'd made her request to talk with a warm and friendly smile on her face. So, a little while later, I found myself sitting in a conference room with Jean and the sleeping Christopher.
"Any encouraging news on Rogue?" I asked, knowing if there had been, she wouldn't have that look on her face.
"No." Jean looked as if she was going to say more about Rogue, but she didn't. She then turned to me and said, "Can we talk about what happened in the rec room that day?" At my encouraging nod, she tilted her head back and mused, "It's funny. I was just feeling a sense of déjà vu. Some time ago, you and I were on An'zhina and we had a talk….about our spouses not getting along with each other."
"I remember."
"Of course you remember," she said, smiling. "You have a mind like a steel trap."
"Only about some things," I said with an attempt at modesty. "I forget a lot of things too." Actually, I knew what Jean said was true. I tended to remember stuff decently well. Writing this journal has always helped with that.
"You seem to remember more than most people though."
"Well, about that day back on An'zhina, I remember we were outside on porch swings," I said, deciding to show off my memory. "It was after lunch. You had Christopher with you then, too. You let me touch his skin and it was really, really soft. He was a newborn then."
"And now he's a fourteen-month-old. How time flies!" Jean said. She again was smiling, and I knew that talking to her was going to be painless, as it always was.
"So, back to our talk over a year ago," I began, not wanting her to think I was dodging the subject. "I was glad we had that talk."
"Me too," Jean said. "You probably remember all the specifics of what we talked about then," she prompted.
"I think so. We agreed that Cyclops and Jean-Paul weren't….didn't seem crazy about each other, to put it mildly. We both admitted that neither one of them was great at making friends and both had….had pissed off a lot of people before. Maybe that was harsher than how we said it but you know what I mean."
Jean nodded, and I continued. "We also said we hoped it wouldn't hurt our friendship. And we said that we thought the two of them had a personality clash but that it didn't have anything to do with Jean-Paul being gay." I paused and smiled. "How was that?"
"Your memory is as sharp as ever," she smiled, shaking her head in appreciation.
"It's the journal writing I do---that helps." I paused and then looked back at Jean. "You know….a lot has changed in a year's time. I mean….the whole thing with Jean-Paul contracting HIV and what Scott went through to get him cured. That's gotta have…altered things a bit."
"I know. Relationships and friendships change all the time, and that certainly was a change."
And then I had to say it. It was on my mind and it bothered me just a bit, so I decided to spit it out. "One thing also….maybe the fact that Jean-Paul is gay isn't the reason why they don't get along but---but you gotta admit that Scott seems to have a problem with it." I swallowed and then said, "Jean, I feel kinda terrible saying that. Scott saved his life, and I will never forget that. We are in debt to you for all time." I felt my face starting to grow warm. "Maybe it was wrong of me to say what I just did. I--I'm sorry."
"No, Bobby, no---don't apologize. I'm glad you said it. I mean, I think that is one of the problems they have in getting along. So maybe we were wrong a year ago when we speculated that Jean-Paul being gay wasn't the reason they have problems."
"I still think it's not the **reason** for the problems. At least not the main reason. I don't think they'd be best friends regardless of whether Jean-Paul was gay or not. But Scott does seem to have a bit of intolerance. And I know that what he went through for Jean-Paul's sake doesn't help things at all." I shook my head. "Whatever happens with the two of them, I hope we can still be friends."
"We will be, Bobby. I've always liked you---you know that. And I think you've always liked me."
"Of course I have." I swallowed. "And you know," I began, looking down at my hands, "Scott has a right to be….not okay with homosexuality in general, if that's what he wants. I mean, as long as he doesn't go around beating us up or hurling anti-gay insults at us, he can **think** whatever he wants about it. You know, when I lived in San Francisco….you remember I mentioned my boyfriend at the time, Michael?" At Jean's nod, I continued, "Well, Michael was a vegetarian. He didn't approve of meat-eating, but he didn't go around telling people not to eat meat either. He decided to have the mindset of 'live and let live.' So I guess it's kind of like that with Scott. If he doesn't approve of people being gay, then that's that – it's his opinion. Jean-Paul and I might disagree with it, but he still can have his opinion."
Jean nodded. "And I want you to know that I disagree with Scott's opinion. I think that any and all love is **good**. I think you and Jean-Paul have something special together, and that's wonderful. I love seeing you so happy and content at last, and if Jean-Paul is the person who brings that to you, I am completely and one-hundred-percent in support of it." At her words, I couldn't help but to smile. I had sought approval and acceptance all my life. Jean-Paul would disdain me for wanting and needing her (or any heterosexual's) approval, but that's the way I am and it's one way that he and I are different.
And despite my taking-the-high-ground words a minute ago, I much preferred Jean's loving acceptance over having to deal with Scott's bare-bones tolerance. Maybe that's why I'd always be such good friends with people like Jubilee and Hank, and Rogue and Gambit. For them, it's never been an issue and they accept me the way I am….they don't have to merely deign to 'tolerate' me, as if I were a sinner and they were oh-so-morally superior.
Jean then added, "And I like the 'live and let live' philosophy. That's how we raise our kids, and maybe Scott could improve on that with himself. I'll talk to him about it."
"Please don't feel like you have to. I mean…like I said, w-we owe Jean-Paul's life to Scott." I had to remember that always. I wasn't crazy about Scott's attitude but the fact remained – he would have this over us for as long as we lived. And then it hit me --- how truly wonderful Jean Grey was. She could have decided to hate Jean-Paul and I for this. She could've become bitter over what Scott did with Queen Marina. And it had appeared for a while there that she **was** having a tough time. But looking at her eyes, I knew she was the same Jean Grey as always. No wonder so many people on the team adored her.
"Whatever does happen," Jean said, reaching to squeeze one of my hands, "let's make sure we remain friends and we keep having the ability to talk about it, if problems arise."
At that point, Christopher woke up and started to cry. Jean turned her attentions to her son, and
our meeting was over.
And later that day, I found that irony had reared its head. Over a lunch which we'd decided to eat alone together in our quarters, I told Jean-Paul of that morning's conversation. He said simply, "Oh, I apologized to Scott for my outburst."
"What? When?" I asked
He gave me the details. All I could do was smile. Neither Jean Grey nor I had known of the steps our guys had taken to try to reconcile. (Well, "reconcile" is probably the wrong word. But at least Cyke and Jean-Paul had apologized to each other.) Even still, I'm glad Jean and I had that talk.
***************
Jubilee walked down the corridor towards the bridge. She was scheduled to relieve Wolverine's shift at the helm. "Hey, Wolverine," she greeted, as she stepped through the bridge's doors.
"Hey," he returned the greeting with a nod. It was more than he gave to most people, and Jubilee was grateful.
"Aurora's with Sam, if you want to play with her. You know how much she loves her Uncle 'Wolly.'" Jubilee had hoped that might provoke a smile, or a grunt, or **something**. No such luck. She sat next to him, in the First Officer's chair, and she felt her heart sinking. She cared about Wolverine so much, and he was so obviously depressed and miserable without Storm. Yet Jubilee felt helpless. She could ask him how he felt or whether he wanted to talk about it, but she may as well talk to the viewscreen.
Jubilee realized something, however. Sometimes it seemed that Wolverine perked up when **she** sought his help and he was the one doing the counseling. And there truly **was** something on Jubilee's mind that she wanted to discuss with someone.
"How are things with Sam?" Wolverine asked.
Jubilee's eyes widened at his query. Did he have telepathic powers?? "They're okay," she replied. "I mean, they're good."
"He takin' good care of you?"
"Oh, yes. Sam's very sweet. He's easy to talk to, and he treats me like….like a lady, I guess. He gets along real well with Rory, too. Though you're still her favorite uncle."
That did produce a small smile from Wolverine. It quickly vanished, and he added, "But you got somethin' you ain't tellin' me."
"Okay, Counselor Wolverine," Jubilee said, smiling and crossing her arms. She was, indeed, glad at his perceptivity and at the chance to bring this up with him. "I guess you read me so well, you oughtta just read my mind."
"I can tell somethin's wrong, darlin', but I don't know what's eatin' you."
Jubilee hesitated now, even though she'd already had the idea to ask for his help. Could bringing this up only hurt Wolverine more? She worried, but she decided to risk it. She'd had these thoughts bottled up in her for some time now and had verbalized them to no one. Finally the dam broke.
"I like Sam a lot," Jubilee said. "But I don't know if I love him. It doesn't seem to be what the other couples have."
"What do you mean?" he asked gently.
"Well, like you look at the other couples and they're all so…so **intensely** in love. You got Gambit sitting at Rogue's bedside day and night till she gets better," she began, counting off the couples on her fingers. "You got Bobby and Northstar….I used to wonder if Northstar loved Bobby as much as Bobby loved him, but now even I can see how much Northstar does love him. And – " she hesitated saying this to Wolverine, but only for a split second – "Jean and Scott. They have such a bond. I think they have the same heartbeat. It's like all of these couples are so passionately in love, you can **feel** it when you walk down the halls of this ship." She had considered adding Wolverine and Storm to that list but decided against it. Besides, it didn't really need to be said.
"I mean, I like Sam," Jubilee continued. "I really do. He's a good man, a great kisser." She left off that their sex life was slowly and steadily improving. Wolverine sure did not need to hear that. "But I don't know if he's…sorry if this sounds corny, but I don't know if he's my soulmate."
Wolverine was quiet for a few seconds. "It might take time k—Jubilee," he said finally, almost calling her 'kid' but stopping himself in time. "Love ain't all fireworks and sappy music. You can grow into it."
"I dunno. Like, if the 'passion' or whatever isn't here now, can it ever be?" And she had to admit, though certainly not to Wolverine, that Cannonball didn't make her heart skip a beat the way Wolverine himself---or even Bobby, for a time---used to.
"Maybe you don't need passion. Maybe love's more important than that."
Jubilee decided to take an enormous risk. She knew she was probably the only person who could ask Wolverine this. If he didn't answer, he didn't -- answer but she thought he wouldn't be mad at her for at least asking.
"When did you first feel that you loved Storm?"
Several seconds went by without an answer. Jubilee looked straight ahead, out the viewscreen, avoiding Wolverine's eyes. "Not for a long time," he said. Wolverine was then silent for a long time, and Jubilee thought he might be done answering. But she held her tongue, and he spoke again. "Not even after we started up together. Not until she let me go." He was quiet again for a while, but then added, "Give it some time. Love can take awhile.
She looked at his face and saw the pain and anguish there, the agony he felt at being separated from Storm. And still Jubilee was not convinced that she would ever feel for Sam how Wolverine obviously felt about Storm, or Jean about Scott.
Wolverine stood up to cede the bridge to Jubilee. "And maybe it'll turn out that Sam ain't the one for you," he said, as he started to leave. "That's why people date, so you get to feel out different relationships and see what you're best with. Maybe someday you'll meet someone who is the right one. So take it slow with Sam. You don't need to rush off into anything like marriage, till you're sure."
"We're a **long** way from anything like marriage, don't worry," she smiled. "She stood up, reached up and kissed his cheek. When he left the bridge, she could not help but to be pleased. He'd opened up more to her than he had in ages, and more to her than he probably had to **anyone** since Storm left.
***************
Queen Marina looked at the faces of Charles Xavier, Moira MacTaggert and Sean Cassidy through her view screen. She had their return image set up so that little beneath her neckline would be visible.
"My Executive Council is meeting with me tomorrow to discuss the situation," she informed them.
"What do you think might happen?" Xavier asked. "Do you think your crown is in jeopardy?"
"It is possible, but not likely at this point, I think." Since the FOH ships had been repelled from Endarian space, Marina had been working tirelessly with her Council, pulling as many favors as she could. She felt it was unlikely they would vote to recall her. After all, the FOH attack was not directly her fault. She did, however, think it most likely that they would issue an official reprimand to her for giving over the moon to off-worlders. That way the Executive Council could appease their worried constituents without causing a revolution or handing the crown over to Marina's inept brother.
"Do you think it is possible that they will overturn your Binding Executive Order?" the Professor asked, referencing the order that Marina had issued which turned over the deed for the moon of An'zhina to the X-men.
"It is quite unprecedented for a Binding Executive Order to be overturned," Marina said. "However, an attempted invasion of Endaria is also unprecedented. I would say that it is possible they might demand that I revoke my Binding Executive Order."
"What would we do then?" Banshee asked.
"You would all then be asked to leave Endaria."
"But we have no starship here large enough for 320 people. We have only one shuttle --- it could hold ten, eleven at the most."
"In all likelihood, one of two things will happen," Marina replied. "Either we will lend or give you a starship, or we would ask you to wait until the X-men return with your vessel. I think the later is more likely." She paused. "But do not despair. I do not want you to have to leave Endaria, and I am optimistic about this meeting."
"Let us hope—and assume---that your position as regent of Endaria is not in serious jeopardy," the Professor began, "and you are not asked to revoke your Binding Executive Order. What then?"
"In that case, all will proceed as normal. Unless, of course, FOH has not wised up and they decide to attack again. If that were to occur, I would say all bets are off, to use one of your expressions."
Their conversation soon ended and Marina signed off, promising to update the X-men leaders as soon as her Executive Council reached a resolution. Being censured by them would be unpleasant, to say the least. But her dignity could survive that. Despite everything, she was a popular monarch. The Queen just had to hope that she had influenced the Council enough for them to decide in her favor.
Back on An'zhina, the Professor turned to Moira and Sean. "Well, we have one thing on our side at least," he began. "As vicious as they are, the Friends of Humanity are not completely stupid either. By now they should have learned to stay away from here."
Moira nodded. "The Endarians sent their last fleet away with nary a problem. And before that, of course, Psylocke and Marrow destroyed two of their vessels. Maybe they will be smart enough to realize they canna waste any more lives by sending more ships here. Or perhaps I should say, they canna waste any more time or supplies, since they certainly value that above their own soldiers' lives."
Banshee listened to his wife's words and shook his head. "You two are quite the optimists, Moira and Charles. I do na think the Friends of Humanity leaders have more than half a brain each. All they care about is blood. And destroying us, getting revenge. I do na think they are smart enough to stay away from here forever, even if it does mean a waste of cannon fodder on their part. They are so hell-bent on **us**."
Sean's words echoed in Xavier's ears the following day. Even after Marina contacted the leaders, Xavier still worried. As Marina had predicted, for the time being they were safe: The Executive Council made their decisions and Marina had been censured --- but, fortunately, not removed from power, nor asked to revoke her Binding Executive Order. But the Professor knew that the X-men's status on An'zhina had never been more precarious than it was then.
****************
Two days after we set out from Nari Silara, Cyclops called the team together for a meeting. He had decided that since we were now heading back towards earth, we needed to do more group training sessions. People usually worked out (in the Danger Room and/or just in the regular gym) either in small groups or going at it solo. Cyclops said that we needed to practice more as a complete team. He had a point, I had to admit.
So we (or **he**, really) decided to pull everyone together for at least two hours per day. Whoever had bridge duty was exempted from the team training. And as for the three children on board Freedom, they would play in the rec room, monitored by whoever had bridge duty. It didn't always work ideally – sometimes Jean, Scott, or Jubilee ran out of the Danger Room if a child crisis emerged, but truly the kids didn't pose much of a problem at all. Cyclops specified that we would have periodic meetings to discuss how well the team worked together, and areas for improvement.
Given his dedication to Rogue, I hadn't expected Gambit to leave sick bay for the team training, but he showed up dutifully. He looked haggard and miserable when he entered the Danger Room. When he left it, he looked marginally better –a good workout could do wonders in getting the endorphins pumping -- though his fighting skills just weren't up to par. Not that I could blame him. No one did. Rogue's condition hadn't changed at all during these two days.
Given the intense training schedule, people spent a lot less time on the holodeck. Which probably was a good thing anyway.
After one of our sessions, I found myself sitting on the bleachers next to Hank. (I don't know if I ever described it well enough, but the Danger Room is inside the gym. When we "turn off" the Danger Room, we're basically back inside the gym—which is why I was sitting on bleachers that day.) I gulped water, exhausted but happy with how it had went. Hank and I chatted a bit, Hank complimenting me on a move that Jean-Paul and I had done. During that day's battle, we had fought against a simulated FOH squad.
Soon Hank and I looked up and saw Jean and Scott sitting themselves down next to us.
"Good job," Cyclops said. "Both of you, Beast and Iceman – you performed very well today. Bobby, you were really great on that move where Northstar flew you over the heads of the soldiers and you froze them from above."
"Thanks, Cyclops," I said.
This is going to sound horrible. I really prefer the praise that I get from Wolverine during karate training over the praise from Cyclops. I know, that's horrible. Any compliment at all is good, and I should be grateful to Cyke for noticing me doing a good job. But maybe that was it exactly….with Cyke, I didn't want to have to feel any more **grateful** than I already had to.
Of course, maybe there's more to it than that. I've worked my butt of during karate training with Wolverine, and he's never gone easy on me. He's sparing with praise, but when you get some, it's because you have really, really earned it. The work I did in the Danger Room, using my ice powers….I'd been doing that for more than sixteen years (minus the years I spent away from the X-men.) I didn't have to work as hard at it as I did in karate.
I also don't mean to sound like I'm ragging on everybody, but Hank's performance that day actually hadn't been that good, despite what Cyclops said. Hank's my best friend and I love him to pieces, so I'm obviously not trying to slam him. But he definitely hadn't performed that day to the best of his ability, which made Cyclops's compliments ring that much more hollow.
"What is your opinion of the team's performance, following these first two team sessions?" Hank asked.
"I think we're doing well, by and large," Cyclops answered. "We are handicapped because we don't have Rogue and Storm, of course. And it was too bad that Cannonball had bridge duty this time---I would really like to see him get more experience working with the team overall. There's always tomorrow though." He stopped speaking and there was a pause. He then asked, "What do you think?" Cyke looked at Hank and then at me, indicating, I think, that he wanted both of our opinions.
"I also believe the sessions went well," Hank said. "We function together well. I believe that Wraith's confidence is increasing."
"I think so too," Cyclops nodded. "But I am also thinking of ways to get him to step out of the sidelines and take more of an active role in the attacks." He paused and added, "The nature of his powers might make it harder for him to do that, though, since they don't have the aggressive nature of some of our other powers."
"But still, he could be a valuable asset on any mission," Jean said. "I think we just need to work on increasing his confidence and thinking of the best way to deploy him in a combat situation."
"I agree," Cyclops said. I silently muttered that it was too bad Storm was not with us. She could do wonders for anyone's confidence, and I didn't suppose that Cyclops would.
"Hey, I just realized something," Jean said. "It's just like the early years---the four of us training together. All we need is Warren, and we'd have the original five X-men here."
"Perhaps we should engage in a session of the four of us only," Hank suggested, with a smile. "For old times' sake."
"I can't believe how long ago that all was," Jean said, shaking her head. "When the five of us began together. It has to be….sixteen, seventeen years in the past."
"Remember those days?" Cyclops murmured wistfully. "The Professor watching us train, giving us orders over the speaker."
"I fondly recall the practical jokes we used to play on one another," Hank said. "I did not learn what humor truly was until I began to work with the team."
"I will never forget the excitement of the time," Cyclops said. "We knew we were preparing for something big, but we didn't know what. The Professor didn't know either. It was scary but it was really exciting too."
"Remember when the heat broke in January?" Jean asked. "We couldn't get a repairman for two days, so we trained in the freezing cold." She looked at me and smiled. "I guess it gave you an advantage, didn't it, Bobby?"
I murmured something and returned her pleasant smile, but I couldn't return my teammates' apparent nostalgia for the "good old days." Those had been such difficult days for me, back then. Awful. I'd had way too many nights of crying myself to sleep, too many thoughts of suicide. Too many nights of sneaking out to the bars for a meaningless encounter and trying to live with the self-loathing in the morning. No….my life was so much better now, so many light-years better now. Reflecting on the past only made that fact more obvious to me, and I couldn't work up much excitement for those days gone by. Besides, what was it all for? Here we X-men are today, exiled from earth, our mutant brothers and sisters rounded up into concentration camps….lot of good our early days training at the mansion did.
Jean looked at me and I wondered if she had maybe read my thoughts, or at least guessed them. Hank and Cyclops continued to reminisce for a bit, until Jean and Cyclops's communicators sounded. Cannonball told them that their son had woken up and was crying.
Jean stood up. Then Cyclops stood and said, "No, Jean, I'll get him this time. My turn."
Jean gave him a quick peck on the cheek and Cyclops departed. Hank and I remained sitting on the benches, and Jean resumed her place next to us.
"I wonder if I should go after them," Jean murmured. She added, "I missed the kids so much when I was held captive by Dagron."
"It must've been awful for you," I said.
She looked at me and said, "Bobby, I never knew how…how incredible love was – and how painful it can be --- until I became a parent. Being away from Charlotte and Chris was just agonizing. I was writing a poem last evening and I came upon an insight."
"Really?" I asked. Hank and I both leaned forward a bit, eager to hear Jean's words.
She said, speaking slowly, "I realized that you love your children more than you ever love your parents. Far more. Only now that I'm a parent do I finally understand the unrequited love that parents have for their children. They'll never love me as much as I love them, and that's all there is to it. I mean, I love my parents but it's just not the same as the intense way I love my kids." She paused. "And Charlotte and Chris won't understand or appreciate it until they themselves become parents. It's tragic, in a way."
Jean then got a look of worry on her face. "I—I'm sorry. I see that both of you look hurt by what I just said."
I looked at Hank. I was so wrapped up in how something she had opened an old wound on **me**, that I hadn't even seen the hurt look on my best friend's face. "What is it, Hank?" I asked. And then---duh---I realized it. "Oh. I'm sorry."
"Please, there is no need for either of you to apologize," Hank finally said. "I am indeed saddened to be apart from my son---and my wife---but I shall survive this."
Jean laid a hand on Hank's arm. I patted his shoulder. "Do you want to talk about it?" Jean asked quietly, after a short while. I think the three of us were content to just sit there, taking consolation from each other.
"No. No, I thank you for the offer, but I would rather not." His voice sounded empty, but I saw him gently squeeze Jean's hand.
We had to honor his wishes. Hank added that he appreciated our concern, and he soon excused himself to head for the locker room.
"He's hurting so much," Jean murmured, watching him walk away. "I wish there was something I could do to help." She then turned to me. "But I saw a flash of pain in your eyes too." I wondered how guilty Jean might feel, having brought up a topic that saddened both Hank and I. It wasn't her fault, of course, but it seemed she felt really really bad about it.
"It's nothing," I muttered. I added, "Especially not compared to what Hank's gotta deal with."
"Are you sure? I would be more than happy to listen, if you'd like to discuss it with me."
I don't know if Jean sensed that partly I did want to talk about it, but she gently prodded me a bit more. So I finally opened up. "Well, it's just something you said. If parents really love their children that much, what about my parents? They disowned me. They threw me out and didn't want anything more to do with me. How come they didn't feel that love that you spoke about?" This question had always been with me, in the recesses of my mind. And yes, I had discussed it with my therapist during all my years in therapy. Jean's words brought all the pain to the surface again though---can such a hurt ever really be erased?
"I can't figure it out, Bobby," Jean said soothingly. "I don't understand what they did at all. I mean….I think you're a wonderful, sweet person. I think any parent would be glad to have you as a son. My parents even commented on how nice you are, and you know the Professor thinks the world of you too."
Somehow I let Jean's compliments fly over my head. I was too absorbed in what I'd just said, but I only later realized what a loss it was to let her words slip through my fingers without grasping them. "I didn't mean to sound like I'm whining," I quickly said. I knew that self-hatred was an old, familiar, and even comfortable place for me to be. Despite how far I had come, I still had to fight against my tendency to slip into that.
"No, no – my goodness; I would never think that," Jean said.
"There's no point to self-pity, I know that. Like I discussed with my therapist, if my parents didn't love me, they didn't love me, and I can't do anything about that. But I know that I've always felt in the back of my mind that I'm such a terrible person. Like, if I'd been a better person, they wouldn't have thrown me out."
"But surely you know that the problem was with **them** and not you," Jean insisted.
"Yeah, I know that in my head. But it's hard to really internalize it, really believe it, you know?" I shook my head. "I haven't seen my parents or brothers for more than sixteen years. I like to think that it's all behind me, and I've accepted that the X-men are the only family I have. And most of the time I do think that, but every now and then, something sets me off. The comment you made about loving your children just somehow brought up the old pain."
Jean shook her head with a wry smile on her face. "I thought I was sharing a neat insight I stumbled upon last night, and instead I ended saying something that caused pain for two of my friends!" I could tell from her voice she felt bad about it, but she wasn't beating herself up over it either – which was good; there was no reason for her to feel guilty.
"Hey," I patted her hand, "it wasn't your fault. Don't stop with the insights, okay? We could all use a good insight every now and then."
That day wasn't one of my better ones, I'll admit. And during dinner, Jean-Paul neglected to finish his dessert. It was a great dessert too; we'd replicated a sumptuous new recipe for crème brulle. "What's wrong?" I asked. He never left unfinished food on his plate. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and smiled mischievously. "Oh," I realized. There **were** a few times when he wouldn't finish his dessert – when he had something in mind for later on. I knew this meant that later that evening in bed I was going to end up slathered with whipped cream, honey, chocolate sauce, or god-knows-what-else. Great.
*************
TO BE CONTINUED. Please send feedback to stormkpr@usa.net (or post a review on fanfiction.net.)
And a big thank you to Leigh for beta testing and to Ann for re-joining the beta testing fold. J