Chapter Eight: The Arrival of Change
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters belonging to Marvel Comics. This is purely for entertainment purposes. The other characters ARE mine. Please ask if you want to use them.
Scott Summers had always thought his life was perfect. He was the field leader of the X-men. He was engaged to a beautiful woman, who made him happy. He had everything he'd ever wanted. Or did he just have everything he'd always been told he wanted? Was Bliss right? Was he missing something? Had he whipped though his youth so fast he'd never actually grown up?
Scott was on the porch at the back of the house, just outside the kitchen. Jean had gone upstairs to take a shower, but he'd been too distracted to be interested. He didn't realise London had come outside until the bigger man spoke.
"She liked you, mate." He was surprised to hear this – he wouldn't have been able to see her moods or preferences if someone had put a gun to his head.
"How do you know?"
"She explained herself." He said, as if it were that obvious. "You mind if I smoke?" When Scott shook his head, London lit up with a flick of his Zippo then hopped up onto the wooden rail. "So what do you think?"
Scott sized him up. London seemed like a solid guy. He never took his glasses off, but neither did Scott. He seemed to treat Kinessa well and the girls were happy enough to be living with him. Right then, Scott needed someone to share his thoughts with, later on he would pretend London was just in the right place at the right time – under no circumstances was he starting to trust a killer!
"Just between you and me?"
"I might share with K, but that's as far as it goes. She'd know anyway." He grinned and tapped his temple. "Empath."
"It never occurred to me before now, but maybe she's right."
"Sherrylin? She's always right, mate, it's just a question of what the buggerin' fuck she's on about!" Scott had to laugh at that. She did seem kind of…
"Yeah, she is kinda different." London just laughed harder. "I think maybe, looking back, I became who I am because everyone thought I should, because that's what they wanted from me. I never felt like it was wrong before… but now that I look at it. She's right. I didn't do any of the things I dreamed of. I always thought they were just dreams…"
"Piece of advice, mate?" His mirrored sunglasses were disconcerting and Scott got a dose of what it felt like for others to try looking him in the eye.
"Lay it on me." He invited.
"We're all a product of our experiences. Me, I'm a feral killer on a hair trigger because of some screwed up shit that happened to me. You, you're a high school maths teacher and mutant vigilante because that's who you were raised to be." He took a drag and blew a smoke ring that was quickly destroyed by the breeze. "If you don't test the waters, play with new things, try out all your toys, you'll never reach the full potential."
"Did you do that? Reach your full potential?" London was quiet for a minute, as if actually thinking that over.
"I might have done, if I hadn't been pushed down certain paths, if I hadn't seen some things. I might have been a completely different man. As it is, I'm lucky. I have everything I need. Sure, I'm all scrambled up in here," he tapped his forehead, "but I've got a life. I make do. I love my woman - she loves me. I have a pack to protect, I have a job to do – I'm good at it – and for the most part, I enjoy my life." He looked through the kitchen window and inside to where Kinessa was laughing over a plate of fruit with Cardinal. "Sure, sometimes things don't turn out the way you want them to. Sure, I've had a hard life. But I can, honest to any God you want to believe in, look back and say – yeah, I tried it all. And I may not have 'followed my dreams', but I found new ones along the way."
Scott caught the glance the bigger man had thrown inside. He thought of Jean, of how much he loved her…
"Gimme a sec, mate." London hopped off the rail, put his smoke in the wicker table's glass ashtray and went inside. Through the window Scott watched his brief exchange with Kinessa. He hopped in and kissed her, quickly but passionately, then made to hop back out.
"What's that for?" she asked, fingers touching her lips. He shrugged, looking a little sheepish.
"You look nice today." Then he shut the door, retrieved his smoke and took his place back on the rail. Scott was shocked. Not by London's actions, but by the alarm bells that had started ringing.
When was the last time he had kissed Jean just because? Made love to her because he wanted to? When was the last time they had shared something special?
"Something's banging about all up in your noggin." London observed. "What's up?" Did Scott love Jean? Did he love her or did the man he was supposed to be love the woman he thought she should be?
"Do I love my fiancé?" London's glasses hid his eyes and Scott couldn't make out any real expression on his face. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, cigarette dangling for one hand, and looked at Scott.
"There's lots of ways to love someone, mate." The words were gentle, but somehow they still felt like a bullet to the brain. Funny, it was to his brain, not his heart. The thought frightened him, but it didn't hurt him…
"What do I do?"
"You do not want to ask me about life choices. You want: All-my-files-are-in-order-I've-done-it-all-and-now-I'm-a-happy-man then talk to Victor. I'm still working on not ballsing up my own life." Scott nodded, he could understand that.
Kinessa knocked on the glass door before pulling it open. Her hair shone bronze in the sunlight.
"I'm gonna go make lunch. You eating?" She asked. London quirked an eyebrow.
"Do I ever not?" She grinned and helps up her hands.
"Just asking!" He laughed and nodded.
"Mr. Summers, you're perfectly welcome to join us, I'm sure the girls would love a familiar face…" He was struck by her kindness. He didn't think he'd ever said more than two words to Kinessa before, but here she was asking him to join them for lunch.
"That would be nice, Jean said she wasn't hungry…"
"Sure thing, just be up in a half hour or so. Both of you." She glared at her man.
"Lover, am I ever late?"
"No, baby, never late – you just like to take your sweet, sweet time." Then she slipped inside with a wink.
"That's some woman you got there…" Scott observed. London nodded, his expression thoughtful.
"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety – other women cloy what appetites they feed, but she makes hungry where she most satisfies." He said quietly and with a touch of reverence.
"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with the quote." London looked up, as if only just remembering Scott was still there.
"From Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra. Basically, familiarity doesn't breed contempt where she's concerned. I won't ever grow tired of her – I always want more." Scott considered that for a moment and tried to put the quote up beside himself and Jean.
It didn't work. Jean wasn't someone who always had something new and exiting to offer, together they were familiar. Had they grown stale? He was growing more and more morose in his thought process when London clapped him on the shoulder.
"Come on, if we're late, I'll never hear the end of it!"
Upstairs, the three girls were already sitting down for lunch and Kinessa was getting ready to dish up. Roast chicken. Scott was struck by the domesticity of the situation. London came in and ruffled Rogue's hair, careful not to touch skin, making her laugh and shrink away. He grinned at Kitty and made a joke about Jubilee's bracelets. Scott was shown to one of the end seats at the table and London helped Kinessa with the food.
"Lover, you're too good too me. Look at this! So much food!" She swatted his hand away from a dish.
"You know my feast is a famine without you." Having said that, she chased him away.
Lunch was a blur of casual conversation, witty banter and sharing stories. The girls seemed to Scott to be perfectly at home, with London and Kinessa having taken all three of them in without a hitch. He thought of the last couple of nights, where he and Jean had eaten in silence, their only conversation being about work and the X-men. He wondered when they'd lost the flare in their relationship…
Scott caught Kinessa watching him from across he table and remembered she was an empath. He shrugged in apology and she smiled gently.
After food was finished and all the clearing up was done, London went to work on the hardware they were fitting in at the X-mansion. The girls settled down to watch TV and Kinessa made Scott a cup of coffee.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.
"I'd rather ask you questions, if you don't mind." She laughed and waved a hand, encouraging him along.
"How long have you and London been together?" She looked up, counting in her head.
"Eighteen years." She smiled softly at the memory and he was touched.
"How did you meet?"
"Oh, that's a funny story." She cleared her throat. "I was on a job, a contract kill – rare for me – twenty grand to find him and kill him. Seemed easy enough." She shrugged. "So I went to Singapore, found him, broke into his house…"
"Then you saw him and that was that?" He surprised himself with the joke and the dramatic gesture he accompanied it with. She laughed at him.
"Nope. Nope, I shot him." She said. "I really did…" When she shook her head, her brown waves tumbled down one shoulder. She looked away a little, as if disturbed by the thought of hurting him. "I went back through the condo to wipe down anything I'd touched, then came back to the bedroom to police my brass. He'd woken up. He was, honest to God, growing his brain back. He rolled over and told me to run before he could move again. But I couldn't." She looked at the ground. "I couldn't move, I was terrified and he could smell it. When he recovered, he was going to kill me. He was going to tear me to pieces and enjoy it. The only thing that saved me was my skin." She wiggled her fingers.
"Skin?"
"Electric touch. I didn't kill him, I didn't even knock him out, but he couldn't hold on long enough to do any damage. Eventually we got to a stale mate and he poured me a drink." She laughed and took one more sip of her coffee. "It was messy after that, very messy. London was screwed up. I was screwed up. I fell in love in the worst way, with someone who didn't know what to do with me. He fell in love without understanding what was happening, without trusting himself or me. It was… trying."
"But you worked it out?" she nodded.
"Every mistake we made, every bit of ourselves we broke – it was all a piece of the puzzle, a brick in the wall. Now we're about as close to indestructible as it gets. He's doing good – still has terrible impulse control, anger issues and he's on a hair trigger, but he'd never raise a hand to me. I trust him implicitly and vice versa."
They spent the next hour or so exchanging stories and memories. He found she was actually pretty normal, except for the gun-for-hire-bound-to-a-wild-animal thing.
Remy was on the roof again, pacing, smoking, talking to himself and pacing some more. Crashing and burning was on his mind, Sherrylin's words were ringing in his ears. He knew what she meant, about being burned up from the inside.
It was Rogue. Every time he looked at her, she set his spirit alight. She was young and vibrant, even though no one saw it. Hiding behind the shy glances and covered skin was a woman who could give as good as she got and had no issue with smacking anyone down – she'd done it to him a lot! The only time he'd spoken to her without it ending in anger had been right on the roof, where he was now. Even that was just because Bleu Tonner liked him.
He'd wanted to seduce her when he first came to the mansion. Then he'd found out about her mutation – that plan went out the window. He'd, of course, wanted to rise to the challenge, find a way to touch the untouchable, but Stormy had said she was fragile, and after watching la fille for a few days he'd realised it was true.
She was fragile – and together with the Ice Cube – her head was so full of other people that she just preferred to be alone. Why seek company when you have psyches in your head?
He still wanted her though. Sure he liked her personality – the spice, the fire – but he could settle for the physical when she refused to talk to him. Just thinking about her now made his cock twitch, and that made his heart ache, which made his head pound and now he was back at square one: Remy alone on a roof, smoking, pacing, driving himself insane with metal pictures, videos and fantasies of a woman he could never have – never deserve…
Merde he needed to get out of the house!
Storm knocked nervously on the Cardinal's office door.
"Come in." Her voice was silk, as always. Strom took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. "Forgive me, Ms. Munroe, London was here and he has light issues." The skilfully places fixtures brightened and the room was revealed.
Wood panel walls and a hardwood floor made the office naturally dark, but the spread of windows behind the desk brightened it a little. There were hundreds of little plants and waterfalls, not overwhelming, but beautifully arranged. In the corner was a bar, with a monkey perched upside down, playing with a toy.
"This is Winston," she introduced. "If he tries to play with your hair, feel free to smack him away – but he should know better." The graceful redhead offered Ororo a seat. "What can I do for you?"
Storm twisted her hands in her lap nervously. She felt bad asking, but she also felt bad not asking…
"I know this is a little strange, but could I perhaps… stay somewhere else?" Cardinal looked a little surprised, but then smiled genuinely.
"Staying in Illyria's space is unnerving you?"
"I feel like I'm intruding."
"Of course, one second." She reached for Caroline and pressed a few buttons. "Caroline, find Felix for me, please." Ororo's breath hitched at his name and she hoped Cardinal hadn't heard.
"He's in his office. I'll put you through." The electronic voice unnerved Ororo – she was used to only hearing one like it in the Danger Room.
"Yeah, Queen C, what can I do for you?" Felix's voice sounded rich and warm after Caroline's.
"My office. There's something I need you to do for me."
"Be right there." True to his word, Felix got there less than a minute later. His big frame made the room look smaller. Today he wore a dark green Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie over black jeans. His long hair was tied back out oh his eyes but loose at the back, some straight black strands falling over his shoulder. "Lay it on me, Boss."
"Ms. Munroe was uncomfortable in Illyria's space, alone. I need to move her."
"She can stay with you. You've only got the Wolverine, they're both - "
"Tsch!" She snapped. "We don't short change our guests. St. John Allerdyce can move in with the Wolverine, and Ms. Munroe can have your Grey Room, unless that is a problem." Felix looked at both the women.
"Could you give us a minute, Ororo?" Storm looked between the two doubtfully, but nodded anyway, shutting the door firmly behind her. Felix whipped around and stared into Cardinal's gray eyes.
"You're planning something." He accused.
"I am."
"You're manipulating me." She sat back in her leather chair and smiled.
"I prefer to think of it as outcome engineering. Do you trust in my judgment, Felix?" He rolled his eyes.
"You know I do."
"Then do this. 'Let go your fear, embrace your hope' is what Bliss said, I believe."
"Bliss' crazy!" He protested.
"But she is never wrong." He paced up and down for a minute, torn between being pissed at Cardinal for her meddling, and being glad he was going to have a chance.
"Fine." She accepted his curt response and he showed himself to the door where Ororo was waiting. "Come on."
When they reached Illyria's flat, Storm went to collect all her things and Felix wondered around his partner's personal space. He went to her mail slot, where Caroline would put anything that came in the post, and checked it. The first envelope was a job offer; the second was a ten grand paycheck and the third…
The third was a plain white envelope that just said: Blue. It hadn't been mailed, just dropped off at The Pit. If he hadn't already guessed whom it was from, he would have checked the security footage. He tore it open and upended it on her table.
A plane ticket to Tangiers, Morocco dated January 1st, and a return ticket on January 3rd. Rental details for a small house outside the city. A map, a motorcycle key and scrap of paper with a smiley face on it. Wade had planned their tri-monthly trip. Fuck.
Felix ran a hand down his face, praying Illyria would wake up before Christmas. If Wade found out what was going on… Rogue … well actually, Rogue would be dead. That thought didn't bother him. What did bother him was how Storm would feel about that. Dammit!
Angrily, he marched to Illyria's answering machine, ignoring Ororo, who was ready to leave. She had four messages. The first and second were job offers, the third was more interesting.
"Hope you got the travel plans. Can't talk now, busy, busy. Let me know if there's anything I missed." Wade's voice faded away, and Felix wasn't sure how he felt about the guy – not like he ever was. The last voice mail was from an old friend across the pond. Felix played it back, but wasn't all that interested. Blue would call back when she got up.
He fed Sergio, and made sure the cat flap was open and the litter box was clean. If he let the place go to shit, Blue would kill him. Eventually he couldn't stall anymore, so he took Ororo back to his flat.
Ash was at the kitchen table doing math homework when they came in. He kicked Johnny out, and moved Ororo in before sitting down opposite his daughter.
"Are you okay, Dad?" He blinked at her.
"Am I okay?" She stood up and came around the table, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"You need to get some rest." He smiled absently, but neither agreed nor disagreed with her. She kissed his forehead lovingly before going back to her math homework.
Felix looked around his house distractedly. Ororo had come back, and when his two dogs trotted in, he made introductions.
"This is Domino," He indicated a big male Dalmatian, his black and white spots shifting as he moved. "He can be kinda difficult, but he won' hurt you. That over there is Her Majesty The Queen." His gray husky looked at him with her eerie blue-white eyes (a lot like London's, now that he thought of it). "Just Her Majesty for short. She'll ignore you." Ororo nodded, but he didn't really notice. "Taz, the cat, he's around somewhere too." He rubbed his chest. Something was wrong. The two boys had come in from the TV room and they were talking quietly with Ash. Ororo was watching him. Domino was scratching himself. His cell phone was ringing. There were people everywhere…
Felix looked around, desperately in need of a way out. He had to get the fuck out of here… He stood up from the table so suddenly he nearly knocked the chair over and made a mad dash for the French doors. He heard Ash and Ororo both calling him, but he needed to be outside. He needed to breathe… He needed…. He needed
Illyria to come the fuck home.
He was only just keeping it together. Only just hanging by a thread. He had to be brave for his daughter, he had to be strong. He hit the door like a wrecking ball and it swung open, the freezing winter air nearly crippling him. His fingertips burned and his toes tingled, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his scalp ached. He knew this feeling.
"Dad?" Aisling was at door. "You okay?"
"Go inside, baby."
"What's going on?"
"Get Haven. Now." She did as he said, having picked up on what was going on. She also cleared the flat of any collateral damage (in the form of X-men) and left him alone in the cold.
Fuck, Felix's fingers burned, but still he fought it. He wouldn't shift. Not here, not now. No. No! He knew, rationally, that the more he fought it the more it would hurt, but still – he refused to change, not before Haven got there.
He didn't remember falling to his knees. He didn't remember taking his hoodie off, but he did remember the minute blood started to seep out form under his fingernails. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to destroy – but that wasn't what the Reverend did, was it? He was supposed to keep his cool – no mater what. Fuck, this shit hurt!
By the time Haven got there, Felix was so consumed with fighting his body, he didn't have any strength left to spare for conversation. Haven threw up a barrier.
"Do it." He said, and Felix let go. His body exploded outwards, clothes tearing and hitting the ground. He heard Ororo scream, but all that was far away compared to the pain. His bones broke and reformed, his joints popped and refitted, his skin burned, but still he wouldn't scream. Ash hadn't gone through her first change yet – he wasn't going to scare her by showing how much it hurt.
Finally it was over, and his now-huge, furred body lay in a puddle on the balcony. He pulled himself up and stretched luxuriously, paws grabbing at the wood and raking through it, leaving eight deep grooves. This felt good. This body wasn't tired and burned out form lack of sleep and too much worry. This body wanted to run for miles and miles. He wanted to fly, he wanted to cross icy planes and hunt in the snow… he wanted freedom, he wanted a chance to run.
Ororo watched as the huge rusty-red and black tiger pulled himself to his feet. He must have weighed at least a thousand pounds, with his huge head, long body and thick coat. If she'd had to bet on his breed, she'd have said Siberian, but he wasn't the color of any tiger she'd ever seen. He was…
"Beautiful." She whispered. "Absolutely beautiful." His tail twitched as he caught sight of the three people watching him. Haven had him caged inside a barrier of energy, for safety's sake. Ash was watching with wide eyes, even though she'd seen this before. And Ororo was struck speechless.
Ever so slowly, he padded over, his paws making almost no sound. Haven dropped the energy barrier, apparently reassured that Felix wasn't going to eat anyone. Aisling put her hand up and Felix chuffed into it, running his face along her arm and twisting and turning around her body.
"Hey, Dad." The girl smiled. "You look good." He threw his head back and rumbled playfully, before chuffing at Haven, then pinning Ororo with huge, amber eyes. "He won't hurt you." Aisling said, taking a step back to give Felix room to move.
"Can he understand me?" She asked, Ash nodded. "Felix?" The huge tiger brushed up against her, his weight nearly making her over balance. He let her stoke his back – which was so soft she thought she must have been imagining it – and scratch behind his ears, before he unfurled his wings and took off to the North in a gust of wind.
"Can you make it snow, further North?" Aisling asked.
"Of course, why?"
"Siberian tigers. We like snow." She shrugged. Ororo concentrated on forming the right kind of clouds, then letting it snow. Felix had already faded form view.
"When will he come back?"
"When he feels like it, I expect." The teen peered out into the distance. "He's just blowing off steam." With that, Haven held the door for her and she went inside.
