Note: As before, when a scene in Shadow Man coincides with a scene from The Last Stand, some or all of the dialogue has been taken directly from the movie.

I'm delighted that readers are enjoying my story. A reader's pleasure is the best 'payment' an author can recieve. Thank all of you who have taken the time to comment, and/or to put Shadow Man on your alerts and favorites lists. It means a lot.

Chapter Five

"Rogue? What are you doing sitting here alone in the kitchen?" Bobby's voice shattered the quiet. Marie opened her eyes and looked around at the faces of her friends. An entire troop of students and trainees had pushed into the kitchen -- nearly a dozen teenaged boys, plus Kitty.

"You had a strange expression on your face just now," Kitty added. "See a ghost?"

"Sort of." Marie smiled as her gaze landed on the crumpled paper wrappings. It hadn't been illusion or dream. The sense of wonder still buoyed her. Her power could save someone. It didn't only cause hurt. "Cyclops is alive. He was here. He talked to me and ate my dinner."

Marie watched as their expressions shifted from surprise, through confusion, to a sort of restrained excitement. "So where is he?" "I didn't see him in the hall?" "Why'd he eat your dinner?" The questions came in a wave.

"I don't know where he is. He could still be right here, or he could have left the kitchen. He's sort of invisible, you see." Marie felt her own excitement ebb as she realized they were now staring at her with a kind of quiet disgust. She let her voice trail to a whisper. "And I guess he ate my dinner because he was hungry."

An uncomfortable silence stretched, and then was broken by Kitty. "We thought you were serious. God, Rogue. Somebody dying isn't a joke you know."

"I'm not lying," Marie protested, but Kitty turned and stalked out of the room.

"I'm not lying," she repeated stubbornly to the flock of boys now turning to watch Kitty's exit. "He really was here, talking to me."

"I believe you," Bobby said, but Marie could see the lie in his eyes. He thought she was making it up to be funny, like Kitty accused, or worse that she was making it up to herself because she was crazy.

She suddenly felt very tired and very lost and the beauty of the declaration 'you are my salvation' tarnished under disbelieving stares.

"Go away, Bobby," she told him. "All of you, just go away."

-----

Scott wasn't sure what all he was looking for when he went to Charles' office after leaving Rogue. He hoped, an admittedly meager hope, that Rogue had unfolded him enough for Charles to detect his presence. Before he asked Rogue to try completely unfolding him, he wanted the professor's opinion on the matter. Charles had always been his guide in difficult decisions.

But, the professor had retired early. The office was dark and empty and silent, all its answers locked away for the night. Still, Scott stayed, running fingers over the volumes that crowed the bookshelves and staring out the windows into the dark. The books refused to budge when he pushed at their spines. The darkness outside blinded more than his visor ever had. The world he'd inhabited for hours now, so strangely unyielding, was a foreign place, even in this room he knew so well. His only connection to reality was a young woman he barely knew, whom he'd barely convinced of his existence.

He thought about Rogue and how he must have frightened her. The fear had been unavoidable. Was putting her at further risk equally unavoidable? She was young. She had an entire life of her own to live. Did he have a right to ask her to risk that for him, when she barely knew him? If it meant saving the rest of the school from the Eater of Souls, he did. Still, it was a lot to ask.

He finally settled by the window. The grounds outside were invisible in the darkness and the window itself seemed almost unreal. It took him a moment to realize that it was his lack of a reflection in the glass that made it seem so. No reflection -- another effect of the folding.

He was trapped between death and life. That thought continued to trouble Scott as he tried to work though all the tough questions on his own. During those silent hours he realized he was searching for more than advice. He needed to recover the man he respected more than anyone in the world. The Charles Xavier he'd encountered in the infirmary earlier was not that man. The Charles he admired wasn't fearful and manipulating. He didn't pretend to teach while locking the truth away in an unsuspecting mind.

"What changed you?" he whispered. "What made you do the things did to Jean? And if you didn't do those things, what made you lie to Logan about them?"

Instinctively, he waited for despair to curl around him. For so long, every time he asked himself hard, painful question a darkness that had nothing to do with night enveloped him. But, tonight the despair didn't come. The Eater of Souls no longer had access to his mind now that Jean had severed their mental link. There would be no more oblivion like the one he'd endured for the past year. Yet, in its place hung a stark loneliness.

Jean's presence in his mind had been one of the constants of his life. Even after she died in the lake, he'd heard her. He'd thought it was her soul crying out to him. It had been the Eater torturing him, of course, but the touch had not been all pain. It was at least a continuing connection. Now, he had nothing -- not the touch of the woman he'd always loved, nor the wisdom of the mentor he'd always relied on.

His friends didn't even know he stood beside them. More than ever, he needed Charles, the Charles he knew. He needed the world around him to revert from stark and strange to the one he'd always known.

But, when morning came, the room -- this cloister of leather and polished wood, of books and ideas -- remained unyielding, alien. And Scott feared the Charles he needed was gone forever. Or had never existed at all.

-----

The school was always strangely quiet in summer, but Marie thought this summer seemed quieter than most. Unlike previous years, when most of the students were runaways, the majority of the new kids had homes and families to spend their summers with. Only the X-men trainees, and a few year-round students, remained for the months of June, July, and August.

And since the announcement of the cure, every one of those people spent his or her days crowded around the recreation room television watching news. Today the stories centered on the opening of the first cure clinics. The reporter was broadcasting from Alcatraz Island and the line of people gathering before the shining white fortress that had once been a prison stretched for miles.

"Losers," one of the younger boys shouted at the screen.

"Who'd want their stupid cure?" a girl with blue hair snapped.

"Rogue wants the cure," another girl announced. "I heard her say so to Ms. Munroe."

Marie had been leaning against the wall at the back of the room, in a safe corner where she wouldn't bump anyone accidentally. Now, all eyes focused on her. She didn't need telepathy to know what they were thinking. She was going to be an X-man, something even the smallest of them dreamed about in some corner of their brains. How could she give that up to be a common human?

Do I want it? Not two days ago she'd all but told Storm yes. But, what she wanted was changing, or perhaps it was her perception of what she wanted that was changing. She wanted to be able to touch people, certainly. More than that, though, she wanted to be able to use her power to improve the world rather than just cause hurt. She wanted to be something better than the girl who killed with a touch.

"Rogue doesn't want the cure," Bobby defended. "None of us do."

"None of them should." The blue-haired girl pointed at the TV screen and the long line of mutants outside the cure center.

Marie pushed away from the wall and moved into the crowd. The kids standing nearest to her backed away. They didn't want to touch her, and she couldn't blame them. "Some of those people probably have good reasons for wanting that cure. You can't speak for people when you don't even know what their lives are like. Imagine yourself in their shoes, maybe rejected by everyone, alone and unloved. How can you blame them for wanting to be normal?"

"We are normal," Kitty snapped. "We're normal mutants."

"Of course you'd miss the point," Marie grumbled. "You aren't rejected because of your power. It doesn't make your life unbearable."

"Maybe people don't reject you because of your power, Rogue," Kitty was still wearing the scowl from last night. "Maybe it's because you make cruel jokes about important things like friends who are missing and probably dead."

"I was not making a joke!" Marie did not want to defend her version of last night's events in front of all the students. It was private and important, and her friends had already stomped on her for it once. All she really wanted was for Kitty to shut up about the whole thing. "If you want to talk games and jokes, let's talk about people who do everything they can to steal another girl's boyfriend and then play all innocent about it."

Kitty's mouth gaped. Her face reddened. "I never --"

"I have as much reason to accuse you of stealing guys as you do to say I'm lying about Cy-- important things."

Kitty's eyes went wide with horror. In that moment, Marie saw the truth. Kitty did want Bobby, she really, deeply did. Her feelings were scrawled across her bright red face in an expression so open even the youngest in the room probably read it. And Marie hated the fact she'd forced Kitty to reveal that secret. All she'd wanted to do was make the girl shut up about last night. She hadn't meant to expose her to equally painful ridicule. For someone who didn't want to hurt others, she was sure doing a great job of wounding everyone around her.

"Kitty, I was just angry."

"Right." The word came out small and weak.

Bobby scowled. He might have said something, but at that moment a shout from the television reporter turned all eyes back to the screen. The camera panned skyward to catch a flash of white against the blue. A man with wings had just burst from the upper stories of the building to soar away from the island.

"See," the blue-haired girl shouted. "They are forcing people. That one escaped."

"Be pretty cool to have wings," said a boy with twin horns on his forehead. "No one would get rid of wings."

No, Marie thought, wings would never hurt anyone. She slipped out of the room before she did any more damage.

-----

Summer was supposed to be a quiet time. But, this year Ororo experienced everything but peace. Jean was back from the dead. Scott was missing, presumed dead. The students were in shock and needed guidance about this obscene 'cure'. And the professor wanted Ororo to take Scott's place as his successor.

That last troubled her more than the rest. The idea of running the school excited her, but the team was another matter entirely. Ororo knew herself well. She was too passionate, too hotheaded, to be a military commander. And, as a result, she overcompensated by not being aggressive enough in the field. Logan had been right in that last Danger Room training session. The recruits needed to learn to do more than just run away. They needed to learn how to stand, even if standing meant losing.

Ororo wasn't sure she understood that lesson well enough to teach it to anyone else. She wanted to win, not merely die trying. She was no longer sure that was possible.

The situation with Rogue, therefore, was as much an excuse to talk to Charles as anything. Not that the problem wasn't serious and real. It was. The girl had been on edge since she arrived, not surprising considering the things she went through. Rogue had friends, but her power kept her from getting too close. In Ororo's opinion, Rogue was at real risk from this false cure. And worse, according to her friends, she was hallucinating now.

"Professor, I really need to talk," she announced, entering his office without knocking.

"Of course, Ororo, I felt your distress all the way down the hall." The tone was measured and calm, familiar Charles. Only the tremble at the end told her something was deeply wrong.

Charles sat behind his desk, head slumped against his chest. It was nine in the morning and his coffee cup sat untouched on a corner of the desk, without even a coaster to keep it from marking the polish. Ororo didn't have Logan's senses, but she was pretty sure the professor had been crying.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said, apparently not caring that she could see through the lie. "You are concerned about Rogue."

Ororo nodded, deciding to avoid the more difficult one for the planned discussion. "She's seeing things. According to Bobby and a few of the others she claimed to see Scott in the kitchen last night. I wasn't sure if that was possible, or--"

"It's not possible." The response was short, sharp, lacking even a moment's consideration of all the possible explanations.

"So, you don't think he could still be here in spirit, trying to communicate with us? We've encountered so many strange things in the world, Charles, surely we need to entertain the possibility that a ghost is real."

"It's not Scott." Charles wheeled away from the desk and approached her.

"You know Scott's dead? You know Jean killed him?" Was that the cause of this odd behavior? Was Charles grieving? He loved all of his students, but Scott had always been special to him, a son more than a student. This loss had to hurt worse than most.

"She didn't kill him, Ororo. She obliterated him." The venom in the professor's tone shocked her. No amount of grief could explain the hatred coming from the man. "Death I could accept. I don't know that I believe in Heaven, but I've felt souls pass from flesh before and know there is a continuation. But, what Jean did to Scott -- Ororo, he disappeared from existence altogether. Body and soul. There's nothing left."

"Goddess," Ororo whispered. But, she didn't believe it. Not for a moment. Jean loved Scott. "Why would she do that?"

"Evil," Charles growled the word, a strange sound from a voice that was always so rational. And then a sob cracked through the hatred. Charles put his head in his hands. "I wanted to save them all, Ororo. I was so arrogant I thought I could save her too. But, now that she is here, all I feel when I am next to her is depthless evil. Dangerous, dangerous evil."

Ororo knelt next to his chair and rested her hand on his shoulder. Whatever grief he felt, it was deluding him. Souls did not disintegrate. They were strong and immortal. Charles had to be wrong this time. "We're all dangerous professor."

"Not like Jean. I should have done something. I should have stopped her before it came to this."

-----

The sight of the professor crying chilled Scott. He knew that anger and pain. He'd felt the same pain when the Eater of Souls tortured him with Jean's death. The monster had forged some link with Charles and now tortured him, in the same fashion, with Scott's own supposed death.

In the throes of such despair Charles could not be completely sane. The situation was worse than Scott had realized.

And then it got worse.

Charles suddenly sat straighter in his chair. His face contorted first in surprise, then confusion, then anger.

"It's Jean," he announced. "She's attacked Logan and escaped the infirmary."

-----

Bobby caught Marie in the hallway outside the recreation room. "Rogue, wait. I'm sorry, Kitty brought up last night in front of everyone but you have to understand. She's been here longer than the rest of us. She's closer to all the X-men than you or I. She's feeling all this upheaval more than most."

She sighed. "I know, Bobby. And I'm sorry I embarrassed her in return."

"I think she was mad more than embarrassed."

Oh god, he didn't even know how Kitty felt. Or maybe he didn't care. Or maybe he didn't want to admit the truth to her -- that he would rather be with someone who he could touch. Marie shivered with frustration. Why was everything so complicated and full of questions? Why couldn't anything be simple and easy? Why couldn't she just be sure whether Cyclops was real and need her help, or a figment of her imagination? Why couldn't Bobby just love her, or Kitty, and Kitty just go back to being Marie's friend rather than a competitor? Why couldn't she control her powers or decide to take the cure?

Why can't I just be what I want to be?

She stared at Bobby. He was handsome and earnest and she adored his youthful nobility. But, did she love him? Was he what she wanted? Or, was the first step in becoming the person she wanted to be the decision to let him go to someone who did?

"I don't care if she's mad or embarrassed or just being a raving bitch, Bobby. I don't. I just--"

Professor Xavier's voice rang so loudly in all their heads that it silenced everything else. Get to your rooms, children. Now! And stay there.

-----

Scott arrived downstairs moments after Ororo and Charles. He saw the infirmary door shattered in the hall, but didn't have time to speculate on what that could mean. He followed the others into the infirmary where Logan lay sprawled on the floor. Logan startled and called Jean's name as Ororo helped him up.

What happened here? The chaos of the scene sent a shiver up Scott's spine. It would be a lot harder to prove Jean needed help now that she'd attacked a team member directly. Charles wheeled into the room and demanded Logan tell him what he'd done, as if Logan would have hurt Jean. No, Scott reminded himself. Charles fear wasn't for Jean, but of her.

"I think she killed Scott," Logan said. Scott was getting particularly tired of that misinterpretation of events.

"She didn't kill me, she was trying to save me." He wondered why he even bothered talking since they couldn't hear. He supposed it was to remind himself he was still real.

Ororo protested the impossibility, but Scott watched Charles. The professor closed his eyes, clearly searching with his mind. "She's left the mansion, but she's trying to block my thoughts…."

Scott didn't need the professor to tell him Jean had left. If she were in control of herself again -- and he prayed she was -- she would be trying to get the Eater of Souls as far away from those she loved as she could. Even Phoenix, if she were in control, might be doing the same. If the Eater had woken, however, Scott had no idea what it might be doing or plotting. He only knew he had to stop the disaster that seemed to be rushing down on them all too quickly.

"It may be too late," Charles told the others. Then, he added. "We have to find her. I wish we had Cerebro repaired. Perhaps with its assistance I could regain control."

"What can we do?" That was Ororo, ever ready.

"Get the jet prepared, " Charles said. "Logan, get yourself together. You and Ororo will accompany me when we go after Jean. Be ready in half an hour. I'm going to do my best to find out where she's gone."

Scott stepped out of the way as Charles wheeled past him toward the elevator. Half an hour? Scott's own planning time had just collapsed to none. He couldn't let them go after Jean without knowing the truth. He had to warn them before they left. There was only one way he could do that.