Disclaimers:
See Chapter 1.
Chapter 11: The Reason
The first thing Emma was aware of was a blinding light.
Next came an almost crippling sense of guilt. "I'm sorry Jez…" She whispered hoarsely. What had she done? Regret and dismay swept over her.
The light was visible even through her closed eyelids and burned into her brain, irritating her to no end. A protesting sound left the back of her throat and she shifted around, trying to escape from the glare. Being so intimately connected to Jez had made bearing the projected anguish and confusion all the more painful and shaming. Emma was mildly surprised she wasn't crying from the intensity and rawness of emotion.
"Emma?" A rumbling voice. It sounded concerned.
Emma's eyes snapped open. The bleak interior of the Med Lab surrounded her.
"…Henry…?"
There was a almost inaudible sigh of relief. "Thank God." His massive furred bulk came into view, blocking out the harsh artificial light of the Med Lab. Emma tried to sit up, but found her head was spinning too much to accommodate her wishes. Her limbs felt shaky as well…
"What am I doing here?" She asked, voice throaty as though it was unused to speech.
"I couldn't wake you up." Her eyes shot instantly to his feline ones.
"What?" A sliver of fear slipped into her heart. Just how long had she been out?
"I called you after you gone back to your room and didn't get a reply. At first, I simply assumed you had retired for the night, so I wasn't overly concerned. But once I had tried again in the morning…and you still weren't responding...Well, I found that a little more alarming, so I left Kitty in charge while-"
'WHAT!?' Emma snapped upright, the force of her shock spurring her into motion. Her mind raced. Kathryn probably used her cell phone around the sensitive medical equipment, did her nails and wandered off to get food, all without keeping a proper eye on Jezebel…
Henry blinked at her suddenly cold and furious expression in bewildered surprise. Although the mutual dislike the both of them had for the other was a well-known (indeed, well publicised) fact, Emma's reaction still seemed a little extreme.
"Emma…?" Henry sounded confused and slightly fearful at the coldness of her look. She reigned in her irritation and took several calming breaths.
'God. What's wrong with me?' The thought of Kathryn keeping such a close watch on Jezebel filled Emma with an unnamed, insidious emotion that she refused to analyse.
"…Nothing. Carry on."
Hank continued, somewhat more slowly. "…While I came looking for you...After speaking to several people, it became apparent that no one had seen you since dinner…So I went straight to your room. I did knock, but there was no reply and I thought, well, that something was wrong, so…"
He was beginning to stammer and had taken off his delicate spectacles, polishing them on the hem of his crisp white shirt.
"Get to the point, Henry."
He shuffled nervously. "Ahem. Of course. You were lying on your bed, but I couldn't rouse you. I tried smelling salts, water, slapping-"
"What." Emma's eyes narrowed as he -hastily- moved on.
"Aha…well, eventually I got the Stepford Cuckoos in to scan you. They were unable to contact your mind, it was quite unnerving actually…said that "something powerful" was shielding you from them… I told them you must be investigating the new arrival's mind, they were curious…But I don't think they got anything from me. I had Kurt bring you here. Everyone thinks you're just scanning her still."
"How long has it been? Twelve hours? Eighteen?" Why was he dancing around the issue? "Well?"
"You've been 'asleep' for seventy-one hours and twenty-seven minutes, Emma." He sounded tense, as though he was worried about her reaction. She felt impressed at Jezebel's stamina, amazed that the memories had taken that long but amazingly, no fear or anger towards the woman. She found the idea of someone being stronger than her didn't bother as much as it usually would.
'Because she wouldn't hurt me.' The voice was certain in its knowledge and Emma didn't question it. Indeed, she had been both surprised and touched at the level of care and affection Jez had shown towards her. She didn't fully understand why Jez seemed to care so much for her, but it had given her a warm and…comforted…feeling nonetheless, knowing that someone did. She found herself wishing Jez would wake up soon. There was a slight cough from Henry and Emma realised she had been silent for too long.
"That's quite a stretch." She was relaxed and calm, something she hadn't felt for a long time. "I assume you have the EEG results now?" Henry's face became animated and he moved around excitedly (really, it was just shy of bouncing with enthusiasm). Obviously something of interest had sparked his scientific mind.
"Emma, it was truly extraordinary!" Emma resisted smirking at his exuberance; he was practically rubbing his hands together in glee. "Once her results came in, they showed all the classic symptoms of brain death. There was no electrical activity between the neurons in her brain and she wasn't exhibiting any signs of 'normal' sleep patterns….I knew it couldn't be correct however, as you had already told me about her dream sympathy, so I kept reviewing them." He paused, cat eye's shining with wonder. "Then out of the blue, her previously inactive brain into shifted directly from flatlining into theta waves! It was simply amazing! That was when I went looking for you. And once you were placed here, I decided to carry out the EEG on you as well, see if my assumption about her dragging you into her mind had occurred again." Henry paused again, this time drawing in a delighted, shuddering breath.
"And?" Emma was beginning to feel the first stirrings of irritation and impatience. Why couldn't he just get on with it?
"Your brainwaves synchronised."
Emma blinked.
'Synchronised?' The word echoed around her head.
"Her vital stats had mutated, mimicking yours and her brain patterns were an exact match. I could overlay the print-out over each other perfectly. You both were physically and mentally connected as much as it's possible to be without…well." He seemed unable to think of an adequate comparison. Fortunately (?) Emma was.
'Sex…' Purred the predatory side of her that was the White Queen.
Shaking her head to clear (and deny) the images, Emma tried to articulate some of her thoughts. "So that means she's awake now?" She tried not to let her hope taint her tone too much as Henry nodded, albeit cautiously.
"Remember Emma, both her body and mind have been through many traumatic experiences. She's no longer in a coma, but neither is she truly awake yet." The elation Emma had felt rising through the pit of her stomach turned sour.
Face impassive, she asked, "Where is she?" Apprehensively, Henry beckoned her. Standing shakily (ignoring his offer of assistance), she followed him into an adjoining section.
Jezebel lay on a more comfortable looking Med Lab bed, still with the tubes attached and monitoring her, but her face seeming healthier than it had before and her body much less gaunt. Emma resisted the inappropriate temptation to rush straight to Jez's side and hold her hand.
"Why isn't she in isolation?"
"When you two synchronised, her immune and lymphatic systems made an instantaneous recovery. She's fully stabilised." Henry sounded pleased. Emma moved over to the bed and stared pensively down at her.
So young. So strong.
Her heart almost leapt straight out of her chest when Jezebel's eyes suddenly flicked open and fastened her with a piercing gaze. Emma's breath hitched and her hands clenched convulsively into fists.
"Jez…?" She asked, wonderingly, almost fearfully. She heard Henry make a startled exclaimation of surprise behind her.
"Em…ma…?" Jez's voice was cracked and harsh and painfully disbelieving. Emma found herself immediately moving the metal guard rail on the bed down and gingerly sitting as close as she could, never losing her connection with Jez's riveting hazel eyes.
"Yes." She stretched out her hand without thinking and caressed Jez's cheek gently. "You're safe. I promise." Jez's face lost the pinched tenseness and relaxed at Emma's words. Her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, breaking their connection as her body went abruptly limp. Emma let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding and rubbed her own eyes tiredly. She felt like screaming in frustration. So close…
'Too much to hope for that she'd actually stay awake…' She thought sarcastically, but then brightened. 'She recognised me.' It filled her with a suffusive glow to think that despite everything that had happened, all the hurt she'd caused...Jez still recognised Emma.
The nervous clearing of a throat roused her from her contemplation.
"AH-hem." She realised her position; sitting close to Jez with her thumb still absently tracing the girl's cheekbone (when had THAT happened...?), might not be the most professional. Emma stood quickly and faced Henry. He was watching her with an odd, considering expression.
"What?" She snapped, feeling defensive.
Henry raised his arms in defence and shook his muzzled head. "I was just surprised at the level of concern you're showing for her." Puzzlement tinged his tone and his eyebrow tufts quirked in confusion.
Emma allowed her impassive, uncaring mask to settle over her face. "Honestly Henry, I'm not completely incapable of empathy -or the monster people often paint me as. I am a telepath after all." Seeing his suspicion remain, she internally rolled her eyes and continued. "I also have spent the past three days inside her mind. It's a normal response for telepaths to be…somewhat protective of someone they've been so closely connected to."
'Yes dear, just keep telling yourself that…' A voice sardonically told her.
She tried to ignore it. "When will she wake up now?"
Henry scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, she's entered a natural sleep cycle, so anywhere from several hours to several days. It's notoriously hard to predict these things. The mind needs to adapt and heal at its own pace." Emma gave an internal sigh. That was something she was familiar with. "There's no point waiting here for her to wake up. You've also got classes today, remember?" She blinked.
'Damnit. I'd forgotten about them…'
A hectic hour later, Emma had raced back to her room, washed, changed from her robe into (slightly) more suitable attire, hastily eaten and then headed off to her first lesson.
'No rest for the wicked.' She thought to herself, trying to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order. Several students greeted her respectfully as they passed and she replied distractedly. Try as she might, she could not fully banish the scenes she'd witnessed inside Jezebel's mind. Emma disliked leaving her now there was a chance of her awakening, but she had no choice; physically there was nothing wrong with her and she'd already spent several days away from the classroom (albeit in an unconscious state) and couldn't afford to 'waste' any more time.
Thus, it was in this irritated frame of mind that she swept into her classroom. Emma's class were already seated except Jubilee. She quickly sat -without argument- (a first, Emma was certain) after seeing Emma's dark expression.
"Good morning, class." She said, eyes raking across the room for any misbehaving. For once, she was disappointed. However, as she turned to her desk, something caught her eye and almost made her forget everything else.
It was Jezebel's duffle bag.
"Good morning Ms. Frost." Her fingers twitched with the effort it took not to immediately open the bag and search through it. Emma gave a heavy mental sigh. She could tell this was one lesson that wouldn't end soon enough.
"…Freud believed that the unconscious mind's desires held great sway over the conscious-" Emma's lecture was cut short by the bell. "Alright. I want a paper on Freud's theory and its link to the repression of memories by next lesson, to be handed into me." There was a collective mental groan from the group. They'd learned long ago not to vocalise their misgivings unless they wanted extra work.
She watched as they dashed excitedly out the door, in a hurry to get the room fastest and away to the relative safety of the cafeteria. As the last student left, she paused, making sure none were backtracking for some forgotten item and then gently grabbed Jez's bag, pulling it to her chest. The scent of slightly burnt leather and pine assailed her senses and she inhaled deeply, drawing it deep into her lungs. Underneath lay the faintest hint of musk that Emma knew instinctively belonged to Jezebel.
She found that her eyes had slid shut at the strangely comforting fragrance and forced them open. Hurriedly throwing her papers into a folder, she stalked from the room.
A more thorough examination needed to be carried out somewhere more private.
It was the beginning of her lunch hour and she was now comfortably ensconced in her office on her large leather chair (brown surprisingly). Her feet were placed precisely on her desk and she casually sipped a cup of Lady Grey tea (the irony of the name wasn't lost upon her).
The bag sat in the middle of her desk and she watched it carefully, as though waiting for it to move.
Leaning back in her seat, Emma set down her mug and slowly unbuckled the straps holding the bag securely closed. She was surprised to have found it still on her desk. Obviously Scott had been too wrapped up in his self-righteous anger to notice the small detail. That irritated her. If he'd been so concerned about security, surely he should have paid closer attention to other breaches…
Emma had thought over and analysed every scene Jezebel had shown to her with the most thorough care. She was incredibly curious as to exactly how Jezebel had managed to pass through the separate world's boundaries and arrive here…There seemed no logical explanation for it (although that didn't necessarily mean anything)…She also couldn't help but wonder where Gareth and Darren were as well. Why had they let Jez go alone? Had the whole thing been a mistake? Or were they elsewhere within this world, confused and alone? She had many questions that could only be answered when Jez awakened. Her original shock and dismay over her discovery that Jez's world used the X-men's lives as entertainment had died. It was no different to the situation here with the comics the children read. Probably in some distant world, characters like 'Batman' or 'Superman' existed as well. She couldn't help but admit that, from what she had seen, Jez took her comics' storylines very seriously indeed…Why else would she have got so upset about what two -to her- fictional characters did?
There was a part of Emma that worried Jez had completely rejected X-men. Witnessing the level of hurt her own actions had elicited had been a shocking (distressing) and somewhat eye-opening, experience. Emma realised she could not blame her if, when she woke, Jez was bitter and cold towards her. There was nothing she could do to fix her mistake. The thought made her feel extremely melancholy. She found herself wondering what would've happened, had she done things differently. Emma never would have fallen for Scott if she'd known what true love was. Emma frowned introspectively. But she still didn't know now. Intellectually, she thought she had a good grasp on the subject, but her heart was now telling her differently.
'Admit it, darling,' She mocked. 'Have you ever truly loved someone? Has anyone ever truly loved you in return?'
An empty, hollow feeling spread throughout her body. She was quite alone. No family. No friends.
Emma realised she'd been staring blankly at the duffel for a long time. Shaking her head, she tried to snap herself out of it.
'That's quite enough stalling and wallowing for the present. It's not going to bite, just open the damn thing…'
She tilted the bag and gently upended its contents, trying to ensure nothing broke as items fell out onto her previously neat and ordered desk. Distracted, she only vaguely noticed that the bag was accompanied by a dull rattle as she let it drop onto the table top.
A tarnished silver lighter. A dented water flask. A faded and well-worn bandanna. A large switch-blade (it was well oiled and cared for, making Emma wonder how often it had been used). Miscellaneous pens/pencils in various degrees of being chewed up. A scratched and battered first-aid tin. A leather-bound set of tools which told Emma quite clearly that Jez had indeed become proficient in lock-picking. An old toothbrush, the bristles worn and mangled. A small pouch of (no doubt) British money that clinked as it hit the desk. A small cache of energy bars in plastic wrappers. Then, underneath everything and folded up into a tiny square, was a carefully preserved (a miracle really) piece of paper. Curiously, she slowly unfolded its heavily creased edges.
An involuntary smile crossed Emma's lips at the scene before her.
It was the page of her dressed in her Hellfire club glory.
"She kept it…" Emma murmured wonderingly, her fingertips lightly tracing the picture.
I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
And the reason is you
I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you
I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you
Hoobastank, The Reason
Author Notes:
Yes...I realise I have been heinously absent for a long time. All I can offer are my heartfelt apologies (and more chapters, obviously). School and exams have been riding my arse pretty hard and I've been feeling very stressed (not conducive to story writing) for a very long time (still am, if I'm honest). I hope I never have an absence as long as this again, but I can't promise anything. I also know there are going to be quite a few reviews in the vein of: 'ARRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!' - I assure you this is nothing compared to my own (or Emma's, for that matter) frustration. I have spent so long on this chapter, my eyes have almost bled and I'm still not 100 percent happy with it. I tried so bloody hard to make Jez wake up and she really didn't want to (stubborn little-). But fear not, sleeping beauty shall awaken. Very soon. I can practically taste it (erm, you know what I mean...).
For this chapter, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed in the last one (seriously, thanks you guys). It really made a difference and gave me the impetus I needed to start again. I really appreciate it. If anyone is still paying attention to this story, please review. The next chapter will be up in around in a week or so. In the unlikely event I get shitloads of reviews, I'll step up efforts and try to finish the next part quicker.