Chapter 23: Let Go And Take The Final Steps

Jean watched through her tears as Rogue sank slowly into a chair, grief and horror contorting her face. Xavier had managed to break Apocalypse' hold on her, but despite the relief that brought to the X-Men, it was also a new cause of grief as they watched one of their youngest hear the news about the deaths of Bobby Drake and Hank McCoy. Telling her had not been easy, especially after Rogue's tearful account of her torture at the hands of both Apocalypse and Magneto, and how terrified she had been watching herself attack her friends in battle. Jean couldn't think of anything else to say – telling her about the cure was definitely not an option – and motioned for everyone else to clear out the room.

"We should have a service for them," Scott said quietly as Jean closed the door behind them. "We don't know what'll happen to the rest of us over the next couple days, and even if it doesn't left spirits much, at least there'll be…"

"Closure," Kurt agreed. "And though it pains me to say it, it will remind them all of who we still have with us."

Jean only half-listened as the two of them decided that Kurt should lead the service, reading scripture and maybe letting the other residents share their stories. Her attention was mostly on Sabere, who was leaning against the banister and staring vacantly down the stairs. Jean gently and carefully touched her mind, so gently that she shouldn't have noticed –

But her head jerked up and her eyes flicked back towards the X-Men. /It's making me more aware./ she said. The serene, detached voice she usually spoke with now was gone from her mind-voice, and below the usual layer of aloof calmness was a swirl of fear and uncertainty.

/You can still force it out,/ Jean urged.

/Not anymore./ Now there was wistfulness in her voice – the knowledge that things could have been differently – should have been – and yet this was her fate. /It's part of me now, just like it was with you. I am the Phoenix now./

She looked over her shoulder with a sad smile and went down the stairs in the dark gray of dawn. Jean watched her leave, and kept staring into the woodwork until Storm finally had to tap her arm to get her attention again.

"Will she be okay?"

Jean looked at Kurt, the only other one who knew how much she had been changed. Kurt shook his head almost imperceptibly.

They deserve one false hope. "We'll find out when the time comes."

-----

Sabere wandered into the kitchen, the distant corner of her mind that was still hers weeping. It had only been two days – I guess this is the start of three – since she'd gotten back on her feet, but already the Phoenix seemed to have settled permanently into her mind. Sabere wandered through the mansion, sometimes on her own will, sometimes because the Phoenix wanted to see it. When she was in conversation, she found herself often staring off into space, while still absorbing everything being said (and then some, with her occasional telepathy the Phoenix brought with it). She knew the others were worried about her, but whenever they tried to ask her about it she'd say over and over, "Everything will be fine," though she was growing less and less sure that it would be.

Jean was the only one who knew the truth – I am the Phoenix now. What would she do about it?

Could they stop her – the Phoenix – if they had to?

I'm not the one they should be worrying about.

Then suddenly she was in New York City, cowering under an avalanche of rubble, hearing the screams of battle, roaring fire, and somewhere Apocalypse laughing.

It's time and the X-Men are outnumbered. We need Xavier! Too late, no time – fight through this one and bring him back for the next.

Fire and pain – and the blue lights –

The shining tower.

It's time.

Angel had a killing blow lined up but Magneto got in the way – he's falling from the sky –

The blue lights and the horrible laugh meld into a huge devastating force, and Sabere feels the X-Men vanish from her mind –

It's time –

"Not yet!" she screamed. The she looked up. She was curled on the floor with her hands over her ears, and her friends were running downstairs to get to her.

Not again not again not yet…

"What happened?" Kurt 'ported into the kitchen and helped her sit up. "Another vision?"

"He's here," she whispered. "Apocalypse. He's in New York."

"Already?"

Jean looked up at the ceiling, apparently hearing a telepathic call. "Kitty says it's already on the news – "

And sure enough, there it was – the blue beacon stabbing out of the heart of Manhattan, and the flames and explosions blossoming out around it. Already tanks were rolling in. Other channels featured newscasters just trying to cover pre-dawn robberies, now broadcasting the last story of their lives as cars flew through the air and explosions rocked the streets. Some stations had already been wiped out, the screen showing the grim white emergency broadcast.

"Time to go?" Storm asked quietly.

Jean nodded. "Scott wants to get it over with."

They marched grimly out to the elevators, running into several students gathered on the balcony and stairs, watching, hoping for guidance. They all stood in silence while various TVs announced new destruction in their own country. One of the younger girls, another weather manipulator, ran down the stairs and threw herself into Storm's arms, crying. Scott emerged on the balcony, silhouetted against the gray dawn, Logan and Tabitha at his side. He looked down at them, his face unreadable behind the red glasses and shadows.

"I don't need to tell any of you what we're up against," he said quietly, both to the students and to his comrades. "If what we've heard is true, we won't be coming back. You'll be on your own, and I can't guarantee what will happen to you afterward."

Frightened whispers echoed in the open hallway. So much for false hopes.

"Scott, I'll stay." Rogue stood at the top of the stairs, an arm around one of the pajama-clad younglings, her voice shaking but her posture determined. "I still have the powers I absorbed from – before. I'll help the kids."

"Thank you, Rogue." Scott's gaze swept across the gathered X-Men. "Whether or not you believe in fate, ours is out of our hands. Just…I know there isn't a lot to encourage us now, but this is what we were meant to do. Remember what Xavier said – we will try and we will fail, because we are X-Men and we will die for the people we protect."

A faint tremor rumbled through the floor, and all the TV voices fell silent. Sabere had Kurt's hand in a death grip, feeling the ring press into her fingers.

Scott nodded and turned from the balcony. "The last steps, ladies and gentlemen. Let's walk them well."