Chapter 19: The Show Must Go On

"You can't ignore this anymore!"

Jean telekinetically caught the heavy clock that Tabitha had hurled from Xavier's unoccupied desk. "Tabby, knock it off! We are not ignoring anything. How are we supposed to form a – "

"'Form a strategy,' that's all anyone's worried about here. We don't need strategy, we need to go out and fight him! He's gone unchallenged for too long!"

As they had expected, all hell had broken loose as the New Year began in Cairo. Logan and Scott had been monitoring satellite images while the rest of the mansion was using the excuse of the holiday to enjoy a few early glasses of champagne. Scott had hollered something about new shields and mass executions in the three cities Apocalypse had moved into, and the horrified X-Men had absorbed the footage for a few sickening minutes before breaking into a shouting match over how to handle the new crisis. They were all crammed into Xavier's empty office, some more intoxicated than others, but all with frayed nerves and under too much stress.

"The simple fact is that we are not capable of holding our own against him in battle, and we need a different approach," Beast interrupted.

"Ah, shut up, ape-man, as I recall you're the one who's programming the Danger Room to kick our asses in the first place – "

"Honestly, Tabitha, show a little respect once in a while!" Psylocke snapped. "The point of having the Danger Room as difficult as it is is so we're ready to face Apocalypse."

"Enough stupid training! He needs to be stopped!"

"Everyone, shut up!" Beast bellowed, employing his enormous lungpower for the first time since he arrived. The room finally fell silent. Sabere saw what stopped the brawl – Angel was standing white-faced in the door. "The President is on the phone. We're needed in London."

-----

Jean quickly tallied the X-Men mentally as she zipped up her uniform and headed out for the jet. Everyone was there – the new kids – the guests – but Sabere was still inside. She stopped and focused, finding her in Xavier's room. Something else was with her – her powers were flowing strongly, but the other thing was helping her – damn!

She threw open the door to find Sabere with both hands resting on Xavier's head, face contorted in concentration, all of her surrounded in her blue healing glow. A quick mental brush told her that Sabere was weakening, and that the power was not helping at the moment – but Sabere was so deeply entrenched in her work that Jean could not stop her.

"Sabere," she said quietly, soothingly, pressing it into her mind as well. "Sabere, let it go. You can't help him now."

"We need him," Sabere gasped through gritted teeth. "We need him – "

"Sabere, you'll die," Jean replied firmly, stepping closer and working her way into Sabere's healing process to try to intervene before she hurt herself. "We'll be fine without him this time. Let it go."

Sabere resisted her for a moment, then relaxed her hands and let the glow fade. "We need him," she repeated hopelessly.

"We have to make do without him," Jean said softly. "Let's go."

-----

The pounding rain could barely be heard against the jet. Sabere stared in silent out the front of the jet, watching the blue-lit dome of London draw closer, feeling her engagement ring under her glove with her thumb. She tried to deny her exhaustion – she had pushed herself past her limit trying to heal Xavier, hoping the power would come help, but only Jean had been able to save her, and that was by making her stop. I was right, she thought grimly. I can't do it.

The jet was flooded with blue light as it tilted back to earth, and Sabere spontaneously clutched the chair, fighting down panic. I thought I was past this. The light was broken by silhouettes of abandoned tanks, and as the jet sank, outlines of bodies – soldiers – appeared sprawled next to the destroyed vehicles.

They landed unchallenged outside the furiously glowing shield and Sabere wrenched her eyes away from the cockpit. She didn't need telepathy to notice the fear in her friends – even Tabitha, so determined to get out and fight, was taking short, quick breaths and jiggling her leg nervously. Kurt's eyes were closed, and his fingers were entwined in his rosary. Struck with tenderness, Sabere continued to watch him, until he finally opened his eyes again and looked right at her. Neither smiled – that was asking too much – but when Kurt dipped his head, the gesture meant the same.

Fourteen X-Men stood outside the shield, already drenched from the rain. Logan popped his claws, and with a roar plunged them into the shield. They bounced off as if he had tried to punch a rubber wall. The others stared in amazement – those claws weren't easily stopped. Jean rose slowly into the air, arms raised.

"Jean?"

"I'm just asking to be let in…"

"Wait." Beast sniffed and peered into the shield. "They're here."

Through the blue glow, four figures appeared, walking steadily towards them. Two female, two male, one clearly Magneto.

"The Four Horsemen," Kurt whispered.

They stopped a few yards away, standing confidently. Magneto raised one hand and the shield vanished. Night rain poured into London, drenching the four figures who stood in the dark street. As her eyes adjusted, Sabere finally recognized the fourth – Rogue. Her eyes were strangely blank as she stood next to Mystique. The X-Men waited warily.

"Apocalypse has an offer for you," Magneto announced. "If you manage to defeat him here, this shield will remain down and anyone who wishes may come and go. If you lose – the more likely scenario, in my opinion – the shield comes back up and Apocalypse has free reign over this hemisphere."

"He won't stay here," Scott retorted.

"Of course not. Would you? No, Apocalypse has plans for your country, and very special plans for your school, I'm sure. What say you?" He stretched out his hand. "It isn't like you have a choice."

Scott hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward to shake Magneto's hand, gripping it more tightly than necessary and letting go as soon as he could. Immediately a rumble sounded in the heart of the city, and Scott backed away. Magneto smiled and lifted into the air.

"He is coming."

Three people and one enormous bird lifted into the rain and flew toward the source of the sound. Scott heaved a sigh and turned his back on them. "Forget that bargain. I'm more concerned about getting out of here with our lives than saving London. Stick together – we'll do what we can and take some of them with us."

"This isn't where it ends," Sabere reminded them. "I know that's not the brightest ray of sunshine, but…we could do this."

The rumble stopped. The X-Men tensed and subconsciously fell into formation, waiting –

The explosion threw them into the city and brought down the first building next to them. Sabere caught herself and landed solidly on her feet as Mystique, still in bird form, swooped out of the dark for the kill. Sabere slashed upward and heard the shriek of pain as the bird wheeled away into the rainy night. But she reveled in her victory for too long – Pyro found her. She barely had time to shield when a torrent of fire rushed at her.

Bamf –

And the fire was far away. They were up in the air, closer to the center of the city. They hung for a moment, then 'ported again. Kurt had taken her to the half-flooded roof of a tower near the beacon – and Apocalypse was standing right beneath them. He stood calmly, arms folded, apparently listening to the battle around him. Kurt tapped her on the shoulder and revealed what he had clenched in his hand – a grenade lifted from one of the dead soldiers. She nodded, wrapped her arms around him, and together they leaped off the roof.

She slowed them down, and thirty feet over his head, and they came to a stop. Kurt silently removed the pin, and counted silently. Stretching out her dripping hand, Sabere let the grenade fall slowly toward Apocalypse – it was right over his head – Kurt's arms tightened around her as they prepared to jump – two seconds –

Apocalypse looked up. All Sabere saw were red eyes and a vicious grin before Kurt 'ported – but the grenade came with them.

WHOOM –

Their feet touched the roof for less than a second before the blast threw them back off. They were flung in opposite directions – windows rushed by as Sabere plummeted – she heard Kurt yelling her name –

A rush of white caught her and bore her off through the buildings. Angel's strong arms pressed her to his chest as they flew between buildings, his huge wingspan grazing the dark glass, rain whipping in her face. He banked suddenly and took them back into the heart of the city, back toward the beacon. Apocalypse was ready for them this time, and throwing up a hand, sent a bluish shock wave at them. Sabere tried to block it, but they were both flung out of the air, landing hard. She turned around just in time to see Apocalypse fling a chunk of concrete at them. She couldn't react in time – it landed directly on Angel's outstretched wing and made a crunch that could only mean something terrible. Angel screamed, Apocalypse laughed, and Sabere lunged to her feet, knives in hand.

Apocalypse clenched one fist and held it up. A glowing blue psychic blade, exactly like Psylocke's knife, arced out of his hand and formed itself into a huge scythe. It whistled through the air toward her with a shriek like a dying man. Sabere focused and rushed power through one of her knives, telekinetically strengthening it, so when the scythe hit, blue sparks exploded and the scythe was thrown back. Apocalypse scowled and Sabere tensed.

He struck again, and this time her knife sliced clean through. The scythe carved a cut across her chest, and she fell back with a cry of pain. She heard Kurt 'port in behind her, saw Apocalypse's smirk. His footsteps came forward and she struggled to her feet. Without looking back she screamed, "No! Get Angel out of here!"

Her enemy raised one eyebrow in curiosity. Sabere marched forward, keeping him focused until she heard Kurt 'port away. She found herself two feet away from Apocalypse, looking up into the furious red eyes, gasping in pain as blood ran down the inside of her uniform. He smiled and held up his dripping arm. The psychic knife dwindled to an elegant knife – she knew what he was about to do, but also knew there was no way for her to stop it –

Arms tightened around her waist and suddenly she was back on top of the tower, kneeling next to Kurt. "What were you doing?" he demanded immediately, his voice hoarse with emotion. "What were you going to accomplish by dying?"

She looked at him, tears mixing with the rain on her cheeks. "I'm sorry…I wasn't thinking…I didn't…"

He seemed to realize the futility of scolding, and shook his head, looking out over the battered city.

She pressed a hand to his cheek and kissed him fiercely. They parted, nodded, and Sabere leaped off one side of the building while Kurt 'ported out, healing as she fell. She landed with a small splash right behind Rogue, who performed a remarkably graceful series of backflips to get out of harm's way. She landed, crouched, flung out a hand, and uprooted a lamppost. It rippled, flattened out into a huge sheet, then with unstoppable speed wrapped itself around her and pinned her to the road. How? Despite her new predicament, she was amazed. She'd already imprinted Magneto – Apocalypse let her use all the powers of everyone she's touched – Sabere wriggled, but the dark metal did not move. She could hear stomping footsteps – a maniacal laugh – then the metal directly in front of her face began to glow red hot. Panicking, she squirmed backwards, feeling the heat radiating and spreading across the metal. She'd be cooked…

Taking a deep breath and gathering her strength, she lunged up and exploded out of the metal. Her hand brushed the melted sheet on the way out, but she was flying up above the tops of the buildings, far out of harm's way – the countryside was dark and peaceful…

"Sabere!" The cry echoed up out of the city, somewhere distant… "Shield!"

She threw herself forward, flying toward the source of the cry, but out of nowhere Kurt appeared, grabbed her, and then they were out in the dark countryside, watching London disappear in a blue flash of fire and a mushroom cloud.

-----

The light faded and they were surrounded by blackness. She clung to Kurt's hand in the dark – he wavered and collapsed, exhausted.

The beacon relit, and she thought she heard laughter echoing from London.

Oh God…

"Kurt, please, get up – we have to go – we have to find them – " She tugged feebly at his arm, but he wouldn't move. The rain spattered around them, mingling with the smoking ruin of the city and turning the world around them into one huge dark empty blue-lit blur. They're alive – we have to find them – we have to get out of here –

Kurt stared blank-eyed into the city, his hair hanging dripping on his shoulders. "They're gone – they couldn't survive that – "

She tugged on his arm again, weeping silently, her hair plastered to her face. He was supposed to be the strong one, the faithful one. He was supposed to reassure her and tell her they'd find a way. Now he was as broken as she, as war-beaten and grief-stricken and hopeless as Sabere.

She finally fell to her knees next to him, trying to scrape her hair out of her eyes, as if by moving it she could see someone, anyone, alive in the ruins .

Nothing moved. The rain beat the dead city into silent gray shapes. Nothing moved.

They're dead – She couldn't fight the thought any more. It overwhelmed her, crushed her into the mud, and she curled up slowly, folded over with her hands over her face, and wept into the grass as all their hopes finally faded.

"Sabere – "

His voice was different. Something in it…She dared to look up.

A tiny sunbeam broke through the black clouds, pointing a shining light into the heart of the city. The clouds shifted unhappily, and the light moved further west – like a spotlight – drifting through the rain – until it stopped, wavering but determined, aiming onto one of the buildings.

"Storm," she whispered.

Then the clouds rumbled with thunder and the sunbeam was shut out. Sabere scrambled to her feet – they were there, they were still alive – or at least Storm was. Kurt struggled to his feet and wrapped his arms around her. She tried to protest, but he took a deep breath, and suddenly they were back in London, right where the light had been.

Rain had plastered all the dust into mud, coating the rubble with thin slime, making their search slippery. They shouted names, looked for signs, everything, but there was no response. Finally a clatter of rock and steel attracted Sabere's attention, and she turned to see Scott leading the way out from under the twisted remains of a skyscraper. He was supporting Jean, who hung limply from his shoulder.

"Is she okay?" Sabere asked anxiously.

"Just tired," Jean answered weakly as Scott gently sat her in the street. "Angel's wing could use a look, though…"

Angel followed Kitty and Tabitha out of the wreckage, his right wing dangling and dragging through the mud. Sabere ran her fingers gently through the feathers, grimacing in sympathy when he winced.

"Wait…" Kurt whispered. "There are three missing."

"Psylocke was captured right before the explosion," Storm said. "Beast and Colossus were right with us – I don't know where they went."

Sabere only half-listened as she knitted together the sturdy bones of his wing, reattaching tendons and smoothing skin. This was trickier than anything she'd done – the bone structure was much different, the bones larger but hollow and more fragile. She had no idea how to fix the broken feathers, but when Angel stretched out the mended wing and beamed, she decided they wouldn't be a problem.

From farther down the block, they heard an agonized roar and saw a silver fist punch out of the rubble.

"Piotr!" Kitty took off towards him, then came to a stop when she saw what else Colossus had with him. He strode slowly back towards them, rain glistening on his silvery face, carrying the body of Beast.

"Is he…" Storm asked. Sabere ran past her, trying to find more energy to save him, but Colossus shook his head as she approached. "It is too late," he said quietly. "He was dead before the explosion. I took him with me…I did not know what would happen to his body…"

"Thank you, Piotr," Scott murmured. Jean and Sabere each stretched out a shaking hand to lift Hank's body out of his arms. /He is a brave boy, to do that kind of thing,/ Jean said in her mind. Sabere could only nod, her throat closed with grief.

"Kurt, make sure we're clear back to the jet," Scott said quietly. Kurt nodded and vanished with the familiar bamf. Sabere watched the skies, waiting for him to come back, and suddenly saw him appear in a cloud of smoke sixty floors up, falling.

Sabere flung up a hand to catch him, setting him down gently on the sidewalk. He looked as it he had just woken up, and immediately slumped against her. "I have overdone it," he said, his small smile obscured by his indigo hair. "But our exit is clear."

Gambit came to help carry Kurt, half-conscious, through the city. Storm detached her cape to lay over Beast, and Jean carried him alone, though the telekinetic strain was visible on her face. The party made their way silently, grieving, to the edge of London.

Sabere thought about the battle, wondering if Apocalypse would call it his victory or theirs. They had deflected his final attack – or at least Jean had, since Psylocke had already been captured and Sabere couldn't help – but that meant –

"You held the shield alone?" she asked Jean in amazement.

Jean glanced at her, strained and exhausted. "No…well, in a way…" She frowned, and her eyes unfocused, although her step never wavered and Beast's body kept its steady course. "I got into his mind, and somehow aimed the blast away from us…it still hit hard, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been…His mind was so easy to get to."

She let this news sink in. The most powerful mutant in history had a defenseless mind? It didn't seem possible…he must have been distracted, she decided. If only Xavier was awake…he could figure it out.

They were fifty feet from the jet when the rumbling began.