Disclaimer: Alenida no own X-men. Alenida own Alenida.
A/N: To everyone out there who is a canon X-men fan: I wrote this before I actually knew anything about X-men other than the movies. This is why it really doesn't follow the comics. At all. It's really rather AU.
Reborn
Part II
"Hey, Logan!" Scott called, seeing the familiar form on the grass near the basketball court.
"Yeah?" Logan shouted back.
"Seen Jean anywhere?"
"No. Why?"
"I just wondered. I haven't seen her in a while."
"Maybe she went back up to her room."
"Maybe."
Scott turned and made his way back into the building.
Jean was sitting at the back of the school, alone. "I'm alive. Alive. Scott's here. I'm okay," she whispered, trying to reassure herself. She gazed at a fallen tennis-ball. Almost unconsciously, she flicked her hand, and the ball flicked over into her hand. She dropped it with an exclamation.
"Of course. That's normal," she murmured. "I'm telekinetic. I know that already. Why am I worried?"
Suddenly gripped with a sense of disaster looming, and of despair, she clutched for something solid in the shifting world. Her questing hands caught the side of the school building, and she collapsed against it, sobbing. "This is wrong, all wrong," she whispered. "I should be happy. I'm alive; Scott is happy—isn't he? He is…does he even believe it's me?"
With horror, she laid bare the deep fear she had been hiding. What if I'm not me? Or if I am…what if no one believes it's me? I'm sure some of them believe that I'm Mystique or some kind of unreal clone…or…
She began to shudder, pressing her hands to her eyes to stop the tears which were threatening to flow again. She took deep, gasping breaths, as if to remind herself that she could. "You are Jean," she told herself fiercely. "If I don't believe I'm me, how can I expect anyone else to? My memories are all intact; even my…the lake…they're all intact."
She felt her arm, searching for an old scar. When she found it, she began to laugh in delight and relief. "I'm no clone; I'm no Mystique. You can't clone scar tissue."
She heard a step behind her and whirled round. "Scott?" There was a tiny thudding sound as the tranquilizer buried itself into her shoulder. Jean tried to take a step, but collapsed. A man in black, wearing a metal helmet, caught her and slung her over his back.
"Professor, I can't find Jean anywhere," Scott was worried. He had looked all over the school, but all he had found was a silver chain of Jean's, which she had dropped at the back of the school.
"I'm here, Scott," Jean's familiar voice was cool and unexcited.
"Jean! Where have you been?"
"I just went for a short walk. There's no need to get so upset."
Scott hurried over to her. "I lost you once; I'm not going to lose you again."
"Oh, Scott, you don't need to be overly dramatic." Jean shook her hands loose from Scott's grasp.
"Jean, what's gotten into you?" Scott asked, concerned.
Jean shrugged. "Nothing. I'm fine. I just wish you'd all stop treating me as though I were Mystique, or someone."
Scott was crest-fallen. "Sorry, Jean, I don't mean to. It's just amazing that you're alive."
"No, I guess you don't." She touched him on the shoulder. "I'll be okay."
Logan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He thought he'd heard a noise. "Is somebody there?" he called, sleepily.
"It's only me," Jean replied, switching on the light.
"What are you doing here?" Logan asked, surprised.
"You should know." She shook her hair, which lengthened until it lay at her feet.
"Mystique!" The Jean in front of him melted and her eyes yellowed. The hair shortened and reddened.
"How did you…"
"I have my ways." Her eyes blinked, and she leapt like a cat to the windowsill. "Sorry, Wolf-man. No Jeannie for you."
"You—!" She laughed and was out of the window before he could say anything else.
When Jean woke, she felt sick. Strangely, the nauseated feeling reassured her. I can't be dead if I'm sick to my stomach, she thought. Then, as her mind began to clear, she looked around and saw that she was in a seamless metal room. What happened? Where am I? Nobody could have built a metal room without door or window, except…
"Magneto," Jean whispered in horror. As she spoke the metal began to split and fold back, revealing a man in a black cloak, arms folded across his chest, his lip twisted mockingly.
"Well, well…awake, are we, Phoenix?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Phoenix. You have heard the legend of the phoenix, my dear? 'Reborn from the ashes'? I believe that is an apt description of you, Jean."
"Where have you taken me!"
"Why would I want to tell you that, my dear?"
Jean felt her hysteria growing and clamped hard down on it, taking deep breaths to stay calm. "Take me back."
"Why would I want to do that, Phoenix?"
Jean ground her teeth. "My name is Jean. What do you want with me?"
"Come now, my dear, you're not stupid. I'm sure you know if you think hard enough."
"Let me go!" she cried, although she had a growing feeling of despair. With a motion, she tried to throw Magneto backwards out of the cell, but he grabbed her by the wrist, twisting it until she bit her lip in pain. Magneto beckoned, and a strip of metal flew in from somewhere outside, pinning Jean to the wall by her neck. She tried to struggle, but the metal bit into her neck, making her gasp for air.
"I would not suggest strangling yourself, my dear. I will be back in a moment."
He turned to leave. He paused in the doorway, looking back and added wryly, "Don't go anywhere."
Jean clenched her fists so tightly that her nails nearly cut into her hands.
Knock, knock. Professor Xavier groaned and switched on his light. "Yes?" he called.
"It's Logan."
Xavier sighed. "Can't it wait until morning?"
"No."
Xavier sighed again. "Come in, Logan."
Logan did not come in. He burst in. Xavier covered his ears. "Could you perhaps be a bit quieter, Logan? There are people who are trying to sleep." Like I was, until you barged in here.
"Mystique!" Logan burst out.
"What about Mystique?" Xavier asked tiredly.
"She was in my bedroom!"
"Really." How riveting.
"As Jean."
Xavier came awake suddenly. "As Jean?"
"Is Jean in her bedroom?"
"I don't know." Why are you asking me? Why not ask Scott?
"I'll go ask Scott."
"Good." I'll go back to sleep.
Logan turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Or not. Xavier winced in pain, and turned off the light. Too late. I'm awake.
The metal split open again, and Magneto returned, carrying with him a long syringe. At the sight, Jean felt sweat break out on her forehead, and her breathing became faster and more frantic.
"Oh, don't worry, Phoenix, my dear. I am merely drawing a sample of your blood."
The needle shone in the light. Jean turned her face from side to side in the hopes of making him halt, but the metal tightened until she gasped for breath. The syringe pricked into her neck. Jean bit her lip until she tasted coppery blood. Her neck felt like a hot needle were being pressed into it. Magneto smiled and withdrew the syringe. Jean gasped as the needle tore out of her skin. She felt a trickle of blood run down her neck.
"I…hope…you…sterilized…that," she managed to gasp.
"Of course I did, my dear. I'm not a barbarian." He turned away, the needle still in his hand. Jean felt her stomach twist at the sight of her blood gleaming in the light. As Magneto left, she caught a glimpse of a blue car, which seemed somehow familiar.
"Scott! Wake up!"
Scott turned over in bed, and bumped his eyes against his visor. "Damn! What is it? Who is it?"
"It's Logan."
Oh, great. "What do you want?" Scott grumped angrily.
"Is Jean here?"
"How should I know? I was asleep!"
Logan switched on the light. Scott angrily pulled a pillow over his head, to guard against the flow of illumination.
"She's not here!" Logan exclaimed.
"What?" Scott woke up with a vengeance. "Where is she?"
"Uh…" Logan fidgeted uneasily. "She…uh…was in my bedroom,"
"WHAT!" Scott grabbed Logan by the front of his t-shirt.
"But it was Mystique! It wasn't her!"
"Oh." Scott let go. "Then where is she?"
"That's why I was looking here, you—"
"Never mind. We have to find her!"
"Uh…what if it was Mystique all the time?"
"It couldn't be!"
"Why not?"
"It just couldn't be," he finished lamely. Because if it was, Jean is dead.
"I actually agree with you for once. But if it wasn't Mystique, then where is Jean?"
"Ask Professor X to use Cerebro. He can find her."
"Well, why are you sitting her dreaming? Come on!"
Magneto re-entered Jean's prison. He was twirling a little cylindrical container, which contained a dusty silver powder. "We found this in your blood, my dear. Have you any idea where it came from?"
"No!" Jean replied, defiantly.
"How unfortunate. I shall have to resort to stronger measures."
Jean didn't like the sound of that. "Stronger measures?" She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of what those could be.
"Mystique!" Magneto called over his shoulder. Mystique came in, pushing before her a man in a wheelchair. One blue eye and one green eye glared malevolently at Jean. Jean drew in her breath in horror. "Jason Stryker!"
Pound! Pound! They're getting louder. Jean must not have been in the bedroom.
"Come in," Xavier groaned and switched his light on again.
"Professor! Professor! We can't find Jean!"
"Well, it's nice to see you're actually cooperating for once, Logan, Scott." Rather unusual.
"She's gone!"
"Who's gone?" What are they talking about? I was asleep.
"Jean!"
"Hmmm?"
Logan turned in exasperation and ran out of the room. He returned thirty seconds later with a pot of steaming coffee, which he shoved under the Professor's nose. "Drink!"
"What is it?" It's dark brown, and it looks like sludge.
"Coffee!"
"Coffee?"
"Just drink it!" Xavier took a sip, blinked his eyes, and immediately felt much more himself than he had in a few hours.
"Jean's gone!"
"What?"
"She's not in her bedroom!"
"Where is she? I seem to recall you saying something about her being in your bedroom, Logan."
"That was Mystique," Logan said quickly, looking at Scott's glower.
"Oh, yes, of course. I shall go to Cerebro immediately."
Xavier felt very tired and old as he put down the helmet. "It's no good. I can't find her anywhere."
"What!" Scott's face screwed up in anxiety.
"I can't find her."
"But…but…it can't have been Mystique all the time!"
"Why not?"
"She…she flew over to me."
"It is possible that you were hallucinating."
"I was not hallucinating! I didn't just see her…she was there, in my arms!"
"Hallucinating, obviously," Logan put in.
"In your dreams, Wolfman!"
"Please, gentlemen," Xavier cut in. "This discussion is fascinating, but it does not shed any light on our present predicament."
"Professor, you don't really think it could have been Mystique the whole time!"
Xavier's voice grew grave with pity. "I do not know. But, Scott, I cannot find Jean anymore."
"No! That can't be!" Scott looked pleadingly at Xavier. "She was alive…"
"Scott…"
"Find Mystique! Find her!"
Jean blinked her eyes. The blurry scene resolved itself. She was lying on her back, in her own room. "Scott?" she asked, confused. Someone bent over her—Professor Xavier.
"Professor! Magneto—"
"It's all right, Jean." He put his hand on hers. "You're safe in the school."
"Thank God. Where's Scott?"
"You can see him soon. But first we need to talk about your revival, Jean. What do you remember about it?"
"Well…after the dam burst, and I knew we weren't going to make…I knew I had to do something. I could save everybody; I'd be the only casualty. So I left the X-jet. And I started repairing it and changing the flow of the water. I also took your brain for a moment, remember?…to tell Scott goodbye. Then the jet took off, and I let go of the water. It was awful. There was black everywhere, and I was tossed around everywhere…and I couldn't breathe. I knew I was going to die, and my last thought was 'Oh, God, I'll never see Scott again!', and then I woke up beside Alkali Lake in broad daylight."
"And your powers?"
"I don't know…I mean, I know I can fly, but I haven't tried anything else yet, because I was…well, scared, I suppose. I don't know what happened."
"Don't worry about it. We do."
Jean smiled up at Xavier, their eyes meeting. Jean felt her shoulders tense…something was wrong…what…? Then she knew. Xavier had one green eye. Jean screamed…
To be continued…
