Hi all! Hope you guys are still enjoying this and sticking with me! It's gonna start moving pretty quickly now.

Real quick, best response I got? "KICK JESSE'S ASS!" phnxgirl, you made me crack up. In the middle of the library. While I was working. Good on you!

I know Jesse's an ass - he still is - but I hope this kind of expands on why he is the way he is. Also, I should probably mention, this story is going to get VERY dark soon.

Alright, that's me blabbing on and on! Onto the story!

Chapter Twelve: To Look

I wake with a gasp, heart pounding, sweat coating my body and my eyelids fluttering over sightless eyes. I groan and collapse back into my bed, rubbing at my sockets with my fingers as if that could dispel the images playing behind my eyes.

Anya's choice. It was one of the first things I saw when I looked at her with my mutant eyes.

I sigh and roll onto my side, curling up tighter. It wasn't even her actual choice this time. It was Charles and Erik and that damn bridge after it. Erik killing the soldiers, but more horrifyingly, Charles losing control and causing them to kill themselves too. Blood and screaming and pain, pain, so much pain. The haunted house Anya likes to explore with her human friends is nothing compared to the bridge. I close my eyes and exhale. If I could make her choose differently… take a different path… I shake my head. No, she won't. I've tried already. I've made Hank investigate, I've helped train her, I've set Erik in the right direction to find her later. But she still chooses. The sad part, the part that makes my guts twist and my head throb, is that I can't change it. I can't change this choice; too much depends on keeping the war of the future from happening to let her change her choice.

I groan. Why her? Why did it have to be her? My heart stutters in my chest and I bury my face in my pillow. Why does she have to be so damn loving, so protective and fragile yet strong and fierce? Why can't she be selfish?

I sit up and raise my Future hand to find my clothes. Left on the chair, of course. I get up, my limbs aching, and stumble over to them. I figured out months ago that I couldn't go to bed with a full stomach or the contents would come up, so I'm dizzy with hunger and nausea. I nearly fall flat on my face twice trying to get into my pants, and then almost get stuck in my shirt after that.

I think of the people I'm sacrificing to keep Anya fighting in the future, to give her clues to what's brewing on the other side of the door, so to speak. One toe at a time I'm opening that door, showing her, showing them, what's coming. The faces behind are waiting and eager for them, eyes dark. The blade she will use, hiding in a closet in an abandoned house. A word - Adrenalized. She'll know before the year is out what that word means. And another two, words I'm afraid to say, a name that will haunt every single one of the Xavier-Lehsnherr family's footsteps. A reminder of what they can't allow to happen ever again.

Magda Maximoff.

XXX-XXX

My little sister has left for the mansion already. I debate going. Anya won't be there - she's on another run for her Get-Erik-And-Charles-Together plan - but that in itself is necessary for the conversation I want to have with Hank. I wonder if I can put this off. A quick glance with my blue eye in my mirror shows that no, I really can't. Hank is getting suspicious. I curse myself for being too obvious when I was younger. He knows something is wrong. Thankfully, the blood is confusing enough that he hasn't quite connected the dots.

That'll happen in Vietnam, working on missiles, when he gets a very specific letter from his parents after he gets a letter with a rather familiar vial of blood, this time labeled.

With a sigh I decide to go. Best get this over with; history won't write itself correctly otherwise.

When I get there, Alex and Maxine are laughing and throwing cookie dough at each other. I shake my head, amused at the antics of those around me, and slip by them unnoticed. Erik is in the gym downstairs, working off his frustrations after yet another fruitless conversation with Charles to talk about what happened to them. Charles is hiding somewhere. And Hank…

Hank is right where I need him to be.

I breeze into the lab with a smile and a small wave. The brown eye - the past - takes in the room. He was just by the counter, holding a vial of thick red liquid. He's not anymore, and if I'm correct, then he should be right by the sink with Anya's blood sample to update her medical records, facing away from me… "Hello, Hank," I greet. He startles and I hear glass shatter against metal, then very low cursing. Perfect. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" I enquire politely.

"Damn it, Jesse, I needed that! If Anya were to ever need a transfusion we could be in serious trouble!" He's angry because he knows that I have something to do with him never being able to classify Anya since that first time two years ago, yet he can't prove it. Oh startling him he can blame me for, as he knows full well that I know where he is and can wait until he sees me first. But he can't fault me - at least not logically - for the other members of the household always being in this room when he needs to conduct his tests. Still, he has results - Type A negative, perfectly healthy, female. I smile. Messing with people is so entertaining sometimes.

"She won't," I say. Ironically true, that. "Have you made any headway on that sample?" Hank sighs and I hear his shoes squeak on the ground, a cabinet drawer move, notes shuffling back and forth. I already know what he's going to say, but I need to assuage the doubt, the thread of thought, creeping in.

"Yes, of course I have." He won't share of course. Not that I would expect him too. Thankfully I already know the mind-boggling results. "Whose blood was that, Jesse?" he enquires sharply. "I know you're the one that set it out for Anya to play with two years ago, and conveniently switched labels around. Don't think I didn't see the residue on the bottles." I keep my face blank. "Whose was it?" he repeats, more of a growl to his voice than before.

"You should really make sure that your organization is better before you go enquiring into people," I suggest. The growl deepens. "It was from the crime scene in Florida. They sent you all the blood; the fact that you can't keep your labels straight has nothing to do with me."

"There were five people, and six vials. Anya, the Jefferson's, one for each perpetrator… and an unknown. There were only five people at the house that night."

"There were six, actually," I say softly. Half-lie. "Didn't it ever strike you how interesting it was that an eleven-year-old girl managed to escape two sociopaths, on an unknown drug that made them immune to Charles Xavier's telepathy, while wounded?" I have his attention. "Someone helped her escape." Very true.

"The mutant with no blood type and abilities that shouldn't be possible even for us." He deadpans it but he's curious too, wants to know. Well, I'd love to see them in action, of course, but I know who reaper is, so really the curiosity is much narrower in me than him. "Jesse…"

"You've already discovered Anya's blood type. It's not her." I meet his stare with my own lifeless eyes and raise an eyebrow. Am I lying, Hank? Can you tell? I don't think so. When he doesn't question me I continue. "Anya was helped by a mutant, but she is human." Very true.

"Why the lies, hm?" he asks. I hear him come closer. "Why the secrecy, the games?" A furry paw descends on my shoulder, pushes down hard. "Who is it, and why are they so invested in my baby sister staying alive? Hm? Why?" I shrug his paw off, bored. He would never hurt me. I turn my eyes away and sigh. He doesn't hear the sad note to my voice. No, he doesn't know how much I ache to tell him. It won't be the end, Hank. But I can't say that. For the good of the future, I can't.

"I have to protect the identity of your sister's savior," I say honestly. The paw lifts and I roll my shoulders pointedly. "In 1972 the war we are waiting for will start. A woman will have gained abilities that are not rightfully hers by torturing this mutant you are so keen on finding." Hank draws in a breath. I still him with a raised hand. "This mutant, in 1971, will have broken free, after two years of being brutalized. They won't be known by gender, by physical appearance, nor by any other marker. They will be known only for their extraordinary abilities… and for their army made of both humans and mutants." I stare directly at Hank. I unsettle him; I hear him take several steps back. "Don't ruin this, Dr. McCoy. They need to stay hidden until 1972. I know the thought of tortured mutants makes you - makes all of us - want to rush to the rescue. But this needs to happen. I am not the only one who is trying to prevent the war from escalating." I exhale and raise my blue eye. I focus not on the person in front of me but rather the room, watch the future slip by and blur into….

Ashes. Ashes and dust.

"I need to position them so they will fight in this war, make their own choices, yet still have a safe place to come to when the war is over." Truth. "Because if I position them - and these other people succeed - this war could end before it ever truly begins."

A voice in my head, that sounds like my fourteen-year-old sister, growls, But what of the people you are sacrificing for this? What of the family you are killing off one by one? I shove her aside.

Victory is about sacrifice.

He sighs. Loudly. Exasperated. "I get that. But Jesse… Jesse is my family going to be okay?"

I hesitate. "Yes," I finally admit. "Yes, it will be okay eventually. You will have even gained some additions." ...Truth. He growls in warning. He doesn't touch me but I can feel his claws twitching towards me. When I meet his gaze this time with my sightless eyes he doesn't shift, just meets them unblinking. I remember the first time I saw him, panicking in this lab, blue-furred and golden-eyed and scared of rejection. That fear is diminishing. Charles is so proud of him for it.

"I'm aware of eventually. This family seems to always live eventually. I'm asking if we're going to survive this war?" he demands. I hesitate even longer. Really, he should know me enough to realize when there is an issue with my words.

"Yes, your family will survive this war," I say lowly. Very true… For this war.

XXX-XXX

The problem with being psychic is I am not always in control. When I try to see where my sister has disappeared off to with her surrogate older brother, or if I should be worried that Sean will set the books on fire with his joint, or if Hank is going to discover the truth I am trying so hard to conceal, I sometimes go too far.

Like when I walk into the kitchen with the intention of getting a glass of milk, looking ahead to see if it has expired before I walk through the door (because Alex always buys too much milk) and instead see Raven Darkholm sitting at the table across from Hank's missing mutant.

"Jesus Christ," I hiss out. This is way too far ahead. They won't be friends for four years - none of this will happen for five years. I try to close my eye and instead find myself stuck in the doorway, watching, just like always. Even though I don't want to see. Damn it.

"Give it to me," Raven is saying sharply, holding out her hand, golden eyes dark but not angry. The mutant across from her is holding a bottle of what appears to be vodka. "Now, Ree."

"Since when in the hell do you boss me around?" the other woman asks. She has short dark hair with sharp features enhanced by malnutrition. She also has tears in her eyes. Raven snatches the bottle from her and sets it across the table. "Hey!"

"I'm not going to let you drink yourself to death over this."

"Oh, so the other times I have have been okay?" It's meant to be challenging, but instead comes out as half a sob. Raven sighs and walks around the table, wrapping her blue and scaly arms around the mutant. The dark-haired woman's hands come up and clench around Raven's forearms, almost as if she can't decide to push her away or draw her closer in. The tears become a film and then spill over, onto her cheeks and dripping onto her chin. Raven goes very still when she feels the salty wetness, inhales deeply.

"Oh honey…"

"Blue, what the hell have I done?" she whispers, completely breaking apart. Raven squeezes her as tightly as she can.

"You saved their lives. Charles and Erik wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." She tilts the woman's head up and kisses her forehead. "You saved my brother's life."

"I've cursed them because I was too selfish to let them go," the woman argues, her eyes flickering over the room. "Now they're like me."

"That's a bad thing?" Raven demands. The other mutant snorts and pushes her away roughly, dropping her head into her hands.

"You've seen what I can do Blue. You've seen what I am." Her voice chokes on the last word, desperate and furious and so filled with self-loathing that I close my eyes and look away. "All the people I've killed and the shit I survive while everything else, everyone else, dies around me. You really want to put them through that?"

"Ree there's no guarantee that -"

"Magda began to reverse age, Blue. Reverse age. She got decades younger after she replaced her heart with…" She can't seem to say it, pulling in a ragged breath. I know what it is, have seen what it is, and I clench my jaw to keep from cursing the bitch that started this. The only people who would hear me can't know. Not yet. "The same will happen to them."

"So? Not aging isn't so bad!" Raven gestures to herself. "Look at me, still fucking hot even though I'm in my thirties." "Ree" snorts out a laugh and Raven grins. Then she sobers. "Look, it takes a few days for any changes to happen. You saved them three hours ago - if they really hate what you did after we explain the logistics of it… Well…" she shrugs. Ree looks up, fire in her eyes and her expression.

"Are you seriously considering killing your fucking brother and his partner right now?" she hisses. Raven smirks.

"No, I'm getting you to stop being a pain in the ass and realize the chance you gave them. Was it selfish? Abso-fucking-lutely. Most choices are. But they're not going to hate you for this. You gave them a second chance, a chance to live. And you gave it freely. Hell, you scared the fur off Hank while you were at it." A white smile flashes against midnight blue skin and laughter shakes her shoulders. "Should've gotten a picture of his face, really."

"You are way too desensitized to me cutting myself into pieces." I wince but "Ree" is finally smiling, if only a little and at her hands rather than the other mutant. Raven radiates satisfaction at the achievement but doesn't press it further.

"So long as your brain doesn't end up all over me again, I'm good at this point." The black-haired mutant makes a noise of indignation but allows the jest. "Seriously, honey, they might not love you for it, but they'll understand. Charles had a punctured lung and was bleeding to death, and Erik was tortured to an inch within his life." This time the noise coming out of the girl sounds strangled and terrified. I reach out instinctively and my hand passes right through her shoulder, an urge to comfort overriding the knowledge that this isn't real. "If you hadn't reacted when you did, they'd be dead; you know that." The girl nods, slowly, and glances at Raven.

"I know that. I… I know they won't hate me for that." She swallows heavily. "I'm afraid they'll hate me for…" She swallows and tears gather again. Raven squeezes her shoulder gently and says what she is unwilling to.

"For Anya."

"Yeah." Silence descends on the table, and Raven eyes the discarded vodka bottle like she's contemplating drinking herself to death now. "Ree" sighs and leans her head on her forearms. "I fucked up so badly with that, Blue."

"You told me." Raven shakes her head, sunset hair gleaming with the kitchen light. "I can't believe that they had a kid. My brother had a kid. Wow."

"Had being the operative word," "Ree" says bitterly. I open my mouth, catch the words, suck them back in. I remind myself to mouth the words instead, so no one in the house can hear me.

Liar.

"I still can't believe that your Charles' sister. I didn't know that… that he had one. Well I knew." She rubs a hand over her overly-bright eyes and sighs. "I just never heard about you from him."

"Charles gets like that. Erik too, apparently."

More silence falls.

"They tried so hard to be good parents…"

"Tell them that," Raven urges, shaking the other woman's shoulder. "Tell them they were good parents and they tried and you tried! You did!" She sounds so convinced of this, so clear. "Ree" looks away angrily but also in - resignation. Raven's ferocity changes to disbelief. "...Didn't you?"

"No."

A single word. Pure rage tainting it. I sigh.

Truth.

The vision fades, but I knew this. I knew about the supposed "Ree" and Raven and this moment. I know what happens to Charles and Erik already. I wish I don't, but I do.

Sometimes I see way too much.

XXX-XXX

"Why are you dragging me out here Jesse?" Maxine whines, kicking angrily at a tree root. I hear her stomp around and pick up rocks as if she's going to throw them at me before dropping them again with a huff. I roll my sightless eyes at her antics and grit my teeth, reminding myself I need her. Specifically her wings. "It's cold and it's wet and Alex and I were going to have a movie night!" Irritation thickens in my veins but I let it drip through my heart and circulate until it's calm enough for me to speak.

"You'll be back in time for your movie night." God I used to protect this creature? Even Anya doesn't give me this much trouble when I tell her to do something. She just says it's bullshit then does it anyway. My sister is scowling at me.

"Why do you have red paint anyway?"

"Because I do." She growls like she's learned to do from watching Hank. I grind my teeth together so hard they creak. "Look, I need to do this, okay? And I need you to reach the top!"

"Whatever," she grumbles. I hide my own snarl and keep walking. She follows, subdued and angry, but she follows. "You realize the Professor is going to know whatever you're doing."

"Charles has learned not to look into my head - or into my doings - unless he wants me to tell Anya his secrets." She bristles at my candid Charles, heaves a lungful of air to berate me for the disrespect. I ignore her. "He'll get an impression, and he will block you."

"Magneto should've impaled your whiny ass."

"Erik would never hurt his daughter by hurting me." Though he'll regret that, one day. "We're here."

"A rock wall?" Maxine says dubiously. I shrug and hand her the can of spray paint. "Why are we here, you jerk?" She angry again, pissed at the games. I simply smile.

"We are giving Andrea Pryde a message, two years from now." I tilt my blue eye so I can see the wall just as Annie will, then rotate my hand so that I can see the ground. See exactly what she will miss, but needs to find.

The glint of metal.

"Andrea? Annie? Anya's friend?" Maxine connects with alarm. "What message does she need two years from now?"

"One that will only make sense in that moment." True… and it will keep her from asking anymore questions.

"Okay, cryptic asshole, what is it?" she's annoyed, no longer curious. I smile and gesture around me. I see that glint out of the corner of my blue eye, see that shining ray of hope in the dark and the blood and rage.

"Look down."

Well... That's rather interesting, isn't it?

Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!