Disclaimers:
See Chapter 1.
Chapter 8: Crazy (Part 1)
Emma's eyes opened on a very different scene.
Jezebel was crouching down behind a row of dustbins in a scruffy street. Despite the fact that she was wearing a black neckerchief with a red Chinese dragon symbolised on it around her throat, which covered most of her face, she was unmistakable to Emma. Next to her, similarly clothed, Gareth held a short piece of what looked like, lead piping.
They both managed to look extremely suspicious.
"Is this it?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Jezebel asked fidgeting anxiously. She seemed about the same age that Emma had last seen in her dream but less battered, as if some time had passed allowing her body the opportunity to heal. Gareth snorted derisively.
"O'course it is!"
"What if someone sees us?"
"No-one 'round 'ere gives a toss, kiddo. "Jezebel frowned at him.
"There's no need to swear all the time." She told him disapprovingly, but instead of getting defensive, Gareth only smiled fondly.
"Let's see 'ow long you keep that conviction." She rolled her eyes.
"Whatever you say." He just grinned unrepentantly.
"C'mon, shift yourself." He nudged her out the way and stealthily made his way over to a massive, dilapidated old warehouse which dominated the surrounding area. Glancing around, Emma noticed that they were in a run-down, dirty area. There were broken down cars with smashed in windows and every square inch of available surface was graffitied on with highly witty tags such as: 'Bazza woz 'ere lovin' Sheryl' or 'U R A GHEI ARSE MUNKEY'.
Reaching the large door of the ware-house, Gareth brought a dark leather packet out of his khaki coat and proceeded to unfold a strange set of tools from it. Jezebel peered over his shoulder curiously.
"What are those?"
"Watch an' learn." Deftly, he placed two of the odd shaped tools into the wrought-iron padlock on the door and twisted. After a few tense moments, the lock popped open. "Result!" He grinned, while Jezebel looked on, impressed.
"Can I learn?"
"All in good time kiddo, now getcha arse inside." She moved forward and placed one foot over the threshold, but then turned back.
"We'll be safe here, right?" She asked quietly, her nervousness betrayed by eyes darting around rapidly. Gareth softened and smiled back at her.
"We got each other, alright? We can sort out anyone who messes with us. Remember kiddo, you've got claws." A feral grin split her face, making her look wild and elfin as she disappeared into the building. Before following, Gareth stopped and scanned the abandoned street behind him for signs of movement. Finding none, he slipped in after her and shut the door.
Hesitantly, Emma made her way up to the imposing building and placed her hand on the door. She met with no resistance and her body passed straight through. It was a curious sensation.
Amused, she was reminded of Kathryn's power and immediately began to hum:
"Anything you can do,
I can do better.
I can do anything better than you…"
Inside the warehouse had been gutted. There was no trace of any machinery or furniture left. Empty cardboard boxes were stacked haphazardly in one corner and the traces of a fire were evident in the centre of the room. Rusted pipes protruded from the walls with brownish water stains radiated outwards from them. In the furthest corner over the room, Emma could clearly see a pair of sleeping bags set up side by side and a nest of newspapers surrounding them. Jezebel had obviously shifted time forwards from their initial arrival. She caught sight of Jezebel and Gareth sitting crossed-legged around a small fire, heads back, staring at the ceiling.
"Can't believe no one's bothered us yet…" Jezebel's voice echoed eerily in the silence, rebounding of the corners of the room.
"Told you. There's something to be said for a country that has a legal provision even for people in our situation." He jerked his head towards a tattered piece of paper next to Emma's head. Turning she read it:
LEGAL WARNING
Section 6 Criminal Law Act 1977
As amended by Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994
TAKE NOTICE
THATwe live in this property, it is our home and we intend to stay here.
THAT at all times there is at least one person in this property.
THAT any entry or attempt to enter into this property without our permission is a criminal offence as any one of us who is in physical possession is opposed to entry without our permission.
THAT if you attempt to enter by violence or by threatening violence we will prosecute you. You may receive a sentence of up to six months imprisonment and/or a fine of up to £5,000.
THAT if you want to get us out you will have to issue a claim in the County Court or in the High Court, or produce to us a written statement or certificate in terms of S.12A Criminal Law Act, 1977 (as inserted by Criminal Justice and Public Order Act, 1994).
THAT it is an offence under S.12A (8) Criminal Law Act 1977 (as amended) to knowingly make a false statement to obtain a written statement for the purposes of S. 12A. A person guilty of such an offence may receive a sentence of up to six months imprisonment and/or a fine of up to £5,000.
Signed
The Occupiers
"How did you find that again?" Jezebel asked lazily.
"Old friend who didn't completely slate me when I left home…"
Jez seemed to sense his unease and changed the subject. "So what did you get today?"
"Some bits an' bobs. The bare necessities…" As he spoke, Gareth swung a large, one-strap bag off his shoulder and placing it on the floor; he reached inside pulling out tins of food, a patched sweatshirt, a silver cigarette lighter and a canister of lighter fluid. Pausing, as he began to tend the fire, he spoke in an uncharacteristically hesitant tone, "I got you somethin'…?" Jezebel glanced curiously at him.
"Really?"
"Yeah, here." Face red with embarrassment, he shoved the bag towards her. She rummaged in it for a minute then extracted a thick wadge of magazines. Her eyebrows knitted together as she turned them over cautiously. Content until now to observe, Emma stepped closer to get a better look at the bright covers and almost gasped aloud in shock.
"What…?" Asked Jez puzzled.
"They're comics?" Gareth sounded slightly bemused. "This is my favourite series. X-men is so bangin'!" He enthused. "Don't worry, I think you'll like 'em. And they'll keep you occupied until you're completely fine to come out with me. When I was your age-"He stopped as an expression stole over his face like he'd tasted something extremely bad. "Christ, I sound like an old fart..." Jez shuffled uncomfortably in her place. "Have your headaches been getting' better?" He asked solicitously and she shrugged.
"They seem to get really bad in crowds…But sometimes…" She trailed off, staring into the middle distance at some memory. He looked up sharply, concerned and suspicious.
"What?"
Unseen and unheard, Emma sank to her knees as she stared at the 'comics'. This couldn't be! Her mind felt as if was suddenly too small to absorb the knowledge that in (apparently a separate universe) the lives and tragedies of the X-men were entertainment for the general public. It seemed cruel and disgustingly voyeuristic.
Had every mission been portrayed?
Every private interaction?
Every kiss or love making?
Every death?
Had the deaths of her Hellions and the catastrophe of Genosha been nothing but idle amusements to these people?
God, she felt sick.
"Didn't know you had a library card." Jezebel tried to not so subtly change the subject.
He grinned, unembarrassed. "I don't. But when the toilet windows don't 'ave the barcode scanners on 'em, I don't need to."
She looked shocked. Seeing her expression, he snorted. "Don't get yer knickers in a twist, kiddo. I always take 'em back the same way." Her face relaxed. Then, as if remembering something, she looked down.
"I can't read." Jez mumbled. Gareth turned slowly and looked at her. She refused to meet his gaze. He reached out and chucked her under the chin, making her look up. Their eyes met, hazel to green in silent communication and infinite understanding.
"Hey, none of that." His accent disappearing as if by magic. "We're a team alright? I'll show you the ropes." He grinned, erasing the sombre mood that hung over them. "Hell, I always wanted a little sister! Teaching you to read should be a piece of piss!"
"I always wanted to read…" Then Jezebel scowled, her embarrassment disappearing. "I'm not little!" She pouted and Emma couldn't help but smile at the adorably petulant expression, forgetting for the moment about the comics.
"Aww…Ickle Baby Jezebel…Does she want her bottle-wottle?" Mocked Gareth, laughing.
"My name is Jez, you idiot!" She protested, grinning now herself and leapt on him. He gave a girlish squeal and fell back. They began to tussle on the floor, Jez despite her thinner frame and younger years, somehow managed to seize the advantage over Gareth. She tickled his ribs mercilessly as he twisted and squirmed desperately, trying to escape her clutches. "Go on, say it!" She demanded gleefully.
"So-rr…y J…Je-z…" He gasped, tears of laughter coursing down his cheeks. She grinned in triumph and sat down with a 'thump' on his chest, making the air rush from his lungs.
"Ooof!" Jez cocked her head to the side, considering the sound. And then raised herself to jump again. "Jez, mercy, MERCY, kiddo!" Gareth protested, lifting his arms to fend her off. She moved, smiling.
"So you'll teach me?"
"Yeah, Christ you're deadly…" He moved stiffly and grabbed a comic. " 'Ave a flick through this an' tell me if you recognise any words. It'll be easier to use familiar words as a kinda springboard to learn from." She obediently took the book and quickly became absorbed. Emma watched her expression in fascination: serious and determined, as she skimmed the pages. Emma eased down next to her and continued to observe the nuances of her facial movements. Abruptly Jez's face froze and seemed to intensely scrutinise the page. Emma's eyes darted down, but it was obscured by the position of her body.
"What's the matter?" Asked Gareth, echoing Emma's concern.
"Who…?" Jez managed, seemingly to stunned to speak, held up the book. Emma saw there in colour on the double page, herself. Blinking slightly in shock, she noticed she was wearing her old Hellfire costume of a white corset, white opera gloves and knee-high 'fuck-me-only-when-I-tell-you-to' boots with small, almost imaginary thong. Her breasts were practically bursting outwards and the thong clearly showed that she shaved extremely close. Cringing slightly, she looked into Jez's face for her reaction and saw, to her surprise, not distaste or a raw lust…But admiration? She was non-plussed. Gareth examined the picture and a smirk crept over his face.
"Well, well, well…So you've taken a shine to Ms. Frost have you?" Jez's countenance crumpled in confusion.
"Well, hell yeah!" Both Emma and Gareth looked surprised, both at her affirmation and the expletive. "Look, Gareth! She's completely wiping the floor with those blokes!" She completely missed his implication. Absurdly, Emma felt both disappointed and proud. It had been a while since someone had complemented her actions (not her assets), even indirectly. He laughed.
"You do realise those are the good guys she's pulverising? She's one cool customer, is Ms. Frost…A mistress of manipulation." Emma glared (she hated frowning because they cause wrinkles) ineffectively at Gareth. However, Jez seemed to not hear him.
"Have you got any more with her in? What else do you know about her? Will you read this to me?" She was practically tripping over her words in excitement. Gareth raised an eyebrow, his eyes twinkling.
"So, you won't be shifted, eh? Alright, but mark me kiddo, a woman like that would eat you alive." Jez carried on, ignoring his words.
"So, what's her power? Something cool, right? Why's she dressed like that? Won't she get cold?" Jez came out of her reserved shell that usually was only melted by Gareth's playful interaction, as she became increasingly animated. Gareth patted the ground next to him. Emma smiled in remembrance, her outfit would've been cold if she hadn't used her powers to control her mental perception of heat and cold.
"C'mon, pass it here. I'll tell you all about your Ms. Frost." He said, amused. Jez eagerly complied. "But then sleep alright? It's past your bed-time…"
The scene changed.
I remember when
I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that phase
Even your emotions had an echo
And so much space
And when you're out there
Without care
Yeah I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much
Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Does that make me crazy
Probably
And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice
That's my only advice
Come on now
Who do you, who do you, who do you, who do you think you are
Ha ha ha!
Bless your soul
You really think you're in control
Well,
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
I think you're crazy
Just like me
My heros had the heart, to put their lives out on the limb
And all I remember, is thinking I want to be like them
Ever since I was little
Ever since I was little it looked like fun
And its no coincidence I've come
And I can die when I'm done
But maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably
Gnarls Barkley, Crazy
Author Notes:
Yeah, that's an actual legally binding notice that squatters use. I got it off www dot squatter dot org dot uk. It was in the 'legal warning' section. Fascinating stuff…Some squatters just moved into a house on my road and the owner has to serve them with an eviction notice before he can get rid of them (even though it's his house)…Takes finders-keepers-losers-weepers to a whole new level…
This is part 1 of 3 closely connected chapters (it'll make sense trust me-I'm a doctor ;D)
The song Emma hums is by Dean Martin and is called 'Anything You Can Do'.
Such an Emma song…
Yes, yes another shorty...But next chapter…mwahaha…I'm pretty excited…