A Friend in Need III: Crash and Burn
By Somogyi
Chapter 14
Ororo caught up with Scott in the main foyer. "Scott, wait!"
He paused, fists balling at his sides. "Stop following me, Ororo."
"I only want to talk with you."
"I don't feel like talking right now," he replied before continuing toward the back of the house.
"You may not feel in the mood, but I think you need to do so," she replied, following him into the parlor.
"I'm really not in the mood to get chewed out again, thank you very much."
"Who said I was going to chastise you?"
Scott stopped, slowly turned to face her. "You're not going to read me the riot act for not telling you about the baby?"
Ororo smiled. "Scott, I have known you for years. You are a sensible man. I trust your judgment. I am sure that you had your reasons for not revealing the information."
His shoulders slumped ever-so-slightly, as he seemed to relax visibly. "Jean and I, we wanted to wait a while to make the announcement. At least until she was into her second trimester, because of what happened last time. . . ."
She nodded knowingly. She could see the pain that filled his face at the mere mention of Jean's previous miscarriage, of the unborn child they had lost less than a year ago.
"I understand, Scott."
"Yeah, well, I wish Nathan did."
She pressed her lips together. "When we are frightened, we often lash out toward people we care about, say things that we do not truly mean. Nathan is simply scared about Jean-and now about his new sibling. He does not truly blame you. You are merely his easiest target toward which to vent his frustrations. And it is obvious that by not telling him, you were merely trying to protect him."
Scott's eyebrows rose above his ruby quartz lenses.
Storm smiled at his surprise. "You are not quite that difficult to read, you know. You are worried that Sinister's true goal is your unborn child. You are likewise afraid that such knowledge will remind Nathan that Sinister created his mother to fall in love with you and bear your child-to bring him into the world."
Scott stiffened.
"What you must remember, Scott, is that Nathan was not created in a test tube. He was conceived out of love. He was born to parents who loved and adored him. You and Jean raised him, taught him, helped shape him into the man he has become. There is no shame in that."
Bowing his head, Scott took a shaky breath. "I- I'm just afraid. Afraid that Sinister wants this child to fulfill the purpose he originally wanted Nathan to serve. I'm afraid of what he will do to the baby-or to Jean, in order to get what he wants."
Ororo walked closer, took Scott's hand in her own. "That is why we are going to find Jean, and bring her home."
He tried to smile, was not very successful. "I hope so, Ororo. God, I hope so."
"Of course we-" The sound of her voice was drowned out by the ringing of the telephone. They exchanged a look.
"Logan?" Scott suggested.
"Perhaps." Ororo walked to an end table and picked up the cordless phone. "Hello. Xavier Institute."
"'Roro, that you?"
"Jubilation?"
Scott's head snapped up.
"Yeah, it's me. How ya doin', Wind-Rider?"
She hesitated for the briefest of moments. "I am all right. How are you?"
"I'm doin' great. Midterms are finally over. Hey, I was wondering if you knew if the 'rents were around. I've been trying and trying their place, but there's no answer."
"Scott is right here, as a matter of fact."
"Kewl. Can you put him on?"
"Of course. Hold on one moment." Cupping her hand over the mouthpiece, she held the phone out toward Scott. "It is Jubilee."
Scott backed up a step. "Ororo, I can't talk to her right now."
"But she is asking for you."
"I- I can't pretend as though nothing is wrong."
"Then tell her that it is not."
"I can't."
"And why not?"
"Because. . . ." He paused, licking his lips. "I just can't, Ororo."
She regarded him. "Scott, as much as you would like to, you cannot protect children forever. There comes a time when they must grow up." Once again, she held out the phone.
Still, he did not move. He stared down at the cordless. Finally, he sighed, and took the phone from her. He let out a deep breath before placing it to his ear. "Hey, kiddo," he said, forcing his voice to sound cheerful.
"Hey, Scott! How's it shaking?"
"How are you doing?" he asked her instead. "How's school? Midterms, right?"
"Just handed in my last paper this morning-after pulling an all-nighter to finish it."
"All-nighter, huh? Then what on earth are you still doing awake?"
She laughed. "Actually, I've been trying to track you guys down. I finally gave up on your place and decided to see if you were at the mansion."
"Yeah, I've been . . . hanging out here for a while."
"Is Jean around, by any chance? There's something I need to ask her."
Scott did not reply. His mouth had gone suddenly dry.
"Scott, didja hear me? Is Jean there?"
He cleared his throat. "She's . . . uh . . . she's not here right now."
"Oh. Well, then, do you know when she'll be back?"
He did not know what to say to that.
"You sound a little funny, Scott. Is everything okay?"
He did not want to lie to her. He hesitated, unsure of what to say. Apparently, she found his silence worrisome.
"Scott, what's wrong? Is Jean okay? What happened? Oh God, is it the baby? Did something happen with the baby?" From the sound of the young woman's voice, she seemed to be on the verge of panicking.
"No, Jubilee, as far as I know, the baby's fine."
"'As far as you know'! What the hell is that supposed to mean? Scott, where's Jean? What's happened? Please, tell me."
He sighed. "It's a long story, kiddo."
"I'm not going anywhere. . . ."
Walking over to a sofa, he slowly eased himself down and began to catch her up on recent events regarding the accident and Jean's disappearance. Ororo, meanwhile, quietly slipped out of the room.
"So Cable's had no luck finding her?" Jubilee asked when Scott had finally concluded his tale.
"No, there hasn't been any sign of her. But even with Cerebro's aid, his telepathic powers are not extremely powerful."
"Where's the prof? I'm sure he could find her without breaking a sweat."
"Out of town."
"What, he hasn't come back yet?"
"Out of town, as in out of Galaxy."
"Oh." She paused. "You want me to ask Emma?"
Scott considered. "She and Jean haven't exactly been on the best of terms since you came to stay with us. I'm not sure she'd agree to help."
"She's eased up on the whole jealousy thing now that she's back to being able to corrupt my mind. Let me update Sean, and I'm sure together we can convince her to come help."
"It'll probably take a lot of persuasion."
"Don't sweat it, Scott. I'm a master of sweet-talking. Especially if I can use my trump card-with your permission of course."
"Trump card?"
"I can let slip about the baby. You said you already let the cat out of the bag, right? 'Specially if Sean hears that Jean's expecting, he'll move hell and high water to talk Emma into helping."
Scott managed a small chuckle at that. "Sean can be pretty persuasive himself."
"If all else fails, he'll use his sonic scream to knock her out and we'll drag her to Westchester. So lemme go find him and Queenie, and she and I'll be there by tonight."
"Jubilee, there's no need for you to come. You've got school-"
"School, schmool. I just finished midterms. Besides, you think I could just sit here twiddling my thumbs while Jean is missing? We're family now, Scott. That means we're there for one another. I want to come help."
"I'm not sure there's anything you can do here."
"I can be there with you."
That gave him pause. He could not help but smile. "That would be wonderful, kiddo. Thank you."
"I'll give you a call before we leave so you have an idea of our ETA."
"Sounds great. I'll see you soon, then."
"Oh, and Scott?"
"Yeah?"
"We're gonna find her. I know it."
Jean opened her eyes to near-darkness. The small stream of light creeping from beneath the door barely outlined the bed and side-table. She lay quietly for several minutes, listening. She could not detect anyone mulling about outside. Strange for a hospital, even at night. She was beginning to wonder just what kind of hospital she had been taken to.
Sitting up, she pushed her hair back out of her eyes. How long had she been asleep, she wondered. The last thing she remembered was sitting here as Isabella healed her. Then the next thing she knew, she could not even muster a coherent thought and fell right asleep. Was that some sort of strange side effect of Isabella's powers? Or could it be something else? As she gazed around, her eyes came to rest on the IV pump. Could they have given her something to make her sleep? Something to keep her docile? Something that could hurt the baby?
Jean quickly peeled off the tape securing the catheter into her arm, gripped the IV line and pulled. She barely noticed the sting as she removed the needle from her vein. She held her finger over the spot to stop it from bleeding.
A sharp beeping startled her, nearly made her cry out. The IV pump was issuing some sort of error message. Panicked that the noise would alert someone, she quickly threw back the covers and hurried over to the pump, randomly pressing buttons until she found the off switch. She breathed a sigh of relief as the room once again lapsed into silence.
She forced herself to remain standing for several minutes as she waited to see if anyone had heard. When no one came, she took a deep breath and slowly crept to the door. Grasping the door handle, she ever-so-slowly pulled the door open enough to peek her head outside.
To her left was a wall-a dead end. She gazed down the lit corridor to her right at about half a dozen similar doors to hers, staggered on both sides of the hallway. The closest was across and a few yards to the right of her room. Since no one seemed to be around, she decided to investigate this room first. She quietly padded across the cold tile floor and slowly pushed the door open, hoping not to disturb anyone who might be inside.
From the light that streamed in from the hallway, the room appeared to be empty. She slipped inside, letting the door close behind her. Steeling her nerve, she flipped on the light switch. She looked around in confusion.
The room itself was identical to hers-insofar as the color and style of the walls, the floor, the cabinets, the window placement. But there was no bed, no equipment. She walked over to the side counter, opened a drawer. Empty. She crossed the room to the window and opened the blinds. The "window" had a view of a metal wall. What the hell was going on here? Were the rest of the rooms like this one?
Shutting the light, she checked the corridor once again. The coast was clear, so she continued to the next room. She saw light streaming from below the door. She placed her ear to the wood and listened. She did not hear voice, nor movement. Holding her breath, she tried the handle, found it unlocked. Pushing the door open, she quickly slipped inside. Her eyes widened as she took in the room's contents. Though of similar size, this was certainly not like the other rooms.
It looks like some sort of laboratory.
She walked around the room slowly, studying the contents of various counters. There were racks of test tubes, piles of Petri dishes, incubators, centrifuges. On the center table were several rectangular Plexiglas containers; electrical cords ran to a nearby outlet. As she peered over the top, she saw that they were filled with a clear liquid that was bubbling.
That looks like some equipment Hank has in one of his labs. What did he call the test? Gel electro-something-or-other.
There were microscopes, surgical instruments, piles of photographic printouts of those gel things that were placed in the containers.
She walked over to the computer that sat on a desk in the corner. It seemed to be running some sort of program. Strings of letters were scrolling down the screen at a rapid pace. They weren't words-they appeared to be some sort of code. Only four letters were repeated over and over again in no apparent pattern: A, T, C, and G. Jean remembered enough of her high school biology to recall that those letters were abbreviations for the four base pairs that made up DNA. Strung together, they formed a sequence that comprised genes. The computer was showing some sort of genetic code.
Why the hell is there a genetics research lab next door to patients' rooms in the middle of a hospital? This makes no sense. She shook her head in confusion. One thing's for sure. I need to find a phone and call home. I need someone to come pick me up. Tonight.
She quickly scanned the room again, hoping there might be a telephone somewhere inside. She paid closest attention to the desk, but there was no phone. Instead, in the shadows of the corner, she realized that there was another door, leading to God-only-knew-what. She debated whether to investigate what lay on the other side.
Hand reaching halfway for the knob, she stopped suddenly.
Do I really want to know? she asked herself.
The seconds ticked by as she debated.
Oh, what the hell, Jean. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she grasped the doorknob, turned it, and stepped into the adjoining room. A blast of cold air washed over her, making her tremble. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light and for her to be able to make out the contents of the room.
Her jaw dropped open in horror at what she found inside.
Along the wall closest to her were several shelves filled with jars. Jars containing human fetuses at various stages of development. Jean's arms wrapped around her middle protectively.
It's like some sort of ghoulish collection. How disturbed would a person have to be to do such a thing? she wondered, feeling a shiver run through her.
As she slowly walked across the room, she scrutinized the jars more closely. For the most part, they looked normal according to her limited experiences, with only the occasional deformity apparent.
I wonder . . . could some of these . . . would they have been . . . mutants?
Feeling her stomach knot, Jean finally peeled her eyes away from the macabre collection and turned to the center of the room. Several metal containers with glass-fronts that reminded her of enormous fish tanks sat side-by-side, dozens of metal cables protruding from the ends. As she approached, she realized that the chambers contained some sort of cloudy liquid. She bent down to the one closest to her for a better look.
And nearly screamed when she saw the back of a hand resting against the glass.
She had to will herself to slow her breathing. Taking a deep breath, she once again knelt beside the tank to get a better look at the hand. She could see four tiny fingers. A child's hand.
My God, did someone drown a child?
Jean hurried to the end of the tank, looking for some way to open it. But the metal edges seemed to be completely sealed, with no latches or buttons or levers. She wiped away the condensation on the top of the glass, trying to get a better look inside.
She could barely make out the child's face. A little red-haired girl. Her eyes were closed.
She looks like she's just sleeping. Jean studied her features for a moment. That's odd. She looks somehow familiar. She lightly pressed her hand to the glass above the little girl's cheek. I'm sorry, little one. I wish I could have done more to help you. Poor little lost soul. It took several long moments before she was able to break her gaze away.
I'd better get a look in the rest of the chambers, she realized with a sigh.
There were eight all told, each containing a little girl of a different age, ranging from about three years old to about sixteen, Jean guessed.
Funny how they all look alike. Sisters, maybe? But why are they all here? Lord help me if I've stumbled upon the secret lair of some psychopathic serial killer. Though she tried to put herself at ease by making light of the situation, Jean could not stop the goose bumps that covered her flesh and made the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end.
She was about to leave the room to continue her search for a phone when something in the far corner caught her attention. She walked closer and looked up at the wall. There appeared to be another tank standing vertically. This one was almost entirely constructed of glass, was more ovular in shape with rounded edges, and stood about six feet high.
That one's tall enough to hold an adult, she realized.
It looked to be filled with liquid, much as the other smaller chambers had been. There appeared to be some sort of computer console in front of the tank. On its surface was a large lever reminiscent of a light switch. Jean reached for it with a trembling hand. Biting her lip, she pressed the button.
Fluorescent lights above and behind the tank came to life, illuminating the opaque liquid and its lone occupant. This time, Jean could not help but cry out in horror as she got a glimpse of the woman's face beneath her long, red hair.
Dear Lord! It can't be! She shook her head in disbelief as she stared at the face. That's me.
End Chapter 14