And Then There Were Four
Chapter 5: Open Your Eyes
(please r/r -- I've said it before, but you keep me going!)
Scott Summers held his eyes closed as he pulled the visor from his face.
"Open them, Scott – everything will be fine."
"Jean... I can't..."
"Trust me."
Summers sighed, quickly grabbing his ruby quartz sunglasses and strapping them on.
"It does not do well to dwell on dreams," a familiar voice called, "and forget to live." Henry McCoy smiled as he walked to his friend, standing at the end of the balcony overlooking the school grounds. "Albus Dumbledore."
"Hank, I don't need the quotes." Summers sighed again, "I just need to be left alone."
"Ahh, to talk to Jean.
You know, Scott... others may believe that you've 'fallen from grace' – or perhaps that you have no real interest in anyone other than the esteemed Ms. Frost – but I know you far better than that."
"Hank..."
"You feel her. Even now. And do you know why, my old friend?"
Cyclops stared at him. He'd never wanted to see less of the Beast.
"She's here."
"What are you talking about?"
"To look fate and circumstance in the eye and ignore it is far worse than mere foolishness, Scott. To look Rachel Summers – or Grey, as she now prefers, in the eye and ignore her? You ignore more than Rachel, Slim. You ignore Jean."
Hesitantly, Summers replied. "I understand where you're coming from, Hank. I do. But it isn't like Jean and I raised Rachel – listened to her first word, gave her a quarter for her first tooth, anything."
"Look at her, Scott Summers. Look her in the eye, look into Jean's eyes, and tell me you don't see your wife." McCoy paused.
"Or have you forgotten what that word means?"
"Oh Rachel," Kitty Pryde said as she held her friend on the ground.
Rachel Grey thanked her friend with a smile and pulled herself up. She wiped the tears from her face before falling backward into her bed. "I'm sorry. I need to compose myself."
"Rach', if there's anyone here that you don't have to be strong in front of, it's me."
"I know. I just... it isn't like I haven't had my fair share of nightmares before. You probably remember some of them."
Kitty's thoughts raced – the truth was that she did. Dreams about murdered parents – of being the only surviving X-Man, clinging to the corpse of Charles Xavier – of hunting down mutants, mutants that Rachel loved, simply to kill them. Shadowcat turned her thoughts to the present, weary that Rachel might know what she was thinking about. She wanted to help her friend, not further her troubles.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
After a moment, Rachel spoke. "It's Jean, Kitty. It's my mother."
"What about her?" Kitty asked, rising herself before joining Rachel on her bed.
"These dreams... it's like... I'm dying with her. I can feel this – surge – of energy, ripping through my body... literally tearing it apart. I can feel my last breath... I can feel all of it."
"Looks like she's still up," Scott Summers said to himself as he approached Rachel's quarters.
"...And I say, 'Scott... my best friend. All I've ever done is die on you.' And then it flashes, and I'm somewhere else... and I smile, Kitty. I smile and I tell Scott..." Rachel paused at the sound of a knock.
"Rachel? Rachel, it's Cyclops... can I come in?"
Kitty looked to the door, puzzled, then back to Rachel.
The door opened after Grey's confirmation, revealing the man the two had just been talking about. "I was just going to leave a note."
"You know us," Kitty began, "just up having girl talk and trying to figure out who's going to ask us to the prom."
"What did you need?" Rachel asked plainly. She couldn't ignore him when he was in her room. She'd been very grateful that she wasn't on his squad – or even more so, Emma Frost's.
"Kitty, can you...?"
Shadowcat looked to Rachel, and following a nod, stood. "Sure thing." Kitty disappeared through the wall behind her.
"Rachel, I know things are... difficult."
"Things were difficult a few years ago," Rachel said without emotion, "now things are just... complicated." Grey stood, walking to the man she once knew as father. "I don't expect you to live your life around me.
I'm not even your real daughter. These are the issues I had to deal with a long time ago... and I have. I'm not from this timeline, Cyclops – both my mother and my father died a long time ago, and somewhere else."
Rachel bit her lip. She was speaking the truth – there was no doubt about it. She was from an alternate earth ... and the man before her was not her father, not anymore than Jean Grey was actually her mother.
But Jean had accepted her – loved her. She wasn't sure that Scott hadn't... but she'd always been able to cling to the fact that there was a Scott and Jean Grey-Summers on the earth she'd landed upon... and they were very much in love.
Now?
Now she had Scott Summers and Emma Frost, dancing upon the grave of Jean Grey, the mother she'd lost twice now.
Cyclops winced beneath his visor, placing his hand upon his temple. "That isn't true, Rachel. I do care for you, just as Jean did... and that's a very bold – and very horrible – thought."
Rachel hadn't realized she'd sent the image of Emma and Scott at Jean's gravesite to him. She had no choice but to stand her ground. "It's late."
"I... you're right. I just wanted you to know that it's nice to have you here – back with the X-Men. It's where you belong."
"Thank you."
Cyclops closed the door behind him, falling back upon it with a sigh.
Ororo Munroe closed the refrigerator door to find Emma Frost standing behind it to her left. She simply turned, walking to the breakfast table just as she'd planned.
"Good morning, Ororo."
"Storm," the weather goddess said plainly, sipping her tea.
"You know," Emma said with a sadistic smile on her face, "do you like my robe?"
Munroe ignored her. "Of course you do, darling. It must be a change – I mean, I was just throwing out some of the most horrid looking things... Scott doesn't know... it's surprising what a pack rat that man can be."
Storm continued to ignore her.
"Actually, you might find some of it appealing... a pink robe with purple trim – 'Love, Ororo' written on the inside... I wasn't a fan. It's in the trash outside. I believe you're used to rooting through garbage? Picking locks and such? It's a shame you could never really figure out how to pick the lock into that robot Forge's heart."
A sick grin flashed on her face.
Storm slammed her fists onto the table as she stood, turning to Emma. Lightning flared from her eyes. Emma flew back into the counter as Storm stepped forward, bringing the winds with her. Cups, papers, and anything else that had been randomly placed in the kitchen flew to the floor – shattering and scattering everywhere.
"You are a very – very sad creature."
Frost's eyes narrowed as she pulled herself up with her telekinesis against the winds. She stood before Storm, in diamond form — the two women glaring at one another, barely an inch apart.
Just in time for Paige Guthrie and Jubilation Lee to walk in.
"So what's for..." Jubilee stopped short, "breakfast?"
"Ms. Frost?" Paige Guthrie, the mutant known as Husk, asked. "What are you doing?"
Jubilee moved to Storm, pulling her away from Frost; Husk doing the same with Emma.
"Lucky the children were here to save you," Emma flashed as she lowered her diamond form.
"It is unfortunate they had to see your true colors once more, Emma – I wonder, were you as 'cautious' when leading them in Generation X? Or is that why poor Everett had to die?"
Emma pushed Paige to the side, the younger mutant catching herself on the ground. She dove, landing upon Storm, the two women falling to the floor. Jubilee was pushed aside as well, stumbling up next to Paige in time to watch two of their mentors at each other's necks.
"What do we do, Paige??"
"We stop this," Husk replied, pulling a layer of flesh from her body to reveal a stone form.
Blood flew from Storm's face as Frost's diamond-hard fist connected with it. Emma concentrated hard, pushing Ororo into the astral plane.
"Rachel, wake up! What's wrong?!"
The "newly-minted" Marvel Girl flew up from her bed.
"Something's happening."