August 19, 1992
Alex could feel the tension in the air. Sean didn't want to acknowledge that Deadpool was in the plane with them, and Terry was staring blankly out the window. Deadpool had put his feet up on the chair in front of him, his stance casual, but Alex could see he was uncomfortable. Every now and then he'd sneak a look at Terry, and in those moments the desperation was plain in his eyes.
It pissed Alex off. He wanted to tell Sean that there were much more important things to do than get angry at the man who had failed to protect Terry. While Alex knew that Deadpool should have helped Terry, and that the loss of her voice was at least partly his fault, the real blame laid with the woman who had sunk her claws into Terry's throat. They could dish out additional blame after they'd taken her down.
Deadpool shouldn't have left. That much was clear. Alex wanted to punch him for that himself, but it was clear that there was at least some guilt there. It wasn't perfect, but it was a good place to start.
Beyond that, Deadpool was a moron. He was a moron for leaving Terry, and he was a double moron for not saying anything now that he had the chance to make things right. Alex wanted to bash his head in for that, although he knew it wouldn't do any good.
He could sympathize the most with Terry. She'd been abandoned by the man she loved in her hour of need. She'd had her throat torn out, her greatest weapon taken from her along with her voice. The fact that she still wanted to get up at all was impressive.
If anyone had the right to complain, it was her, and she wasn't taking it. She had, for lack of a better term, remained silent. There had been no angry notes, no tears, nothing. She had ignored Deadpool, let no feelings be known, and sat there like stone.
It was worrying, but it was her choice. Alex hoped that she was focusing on the mission, that she had distracted herself with that. He felt, rather strongly, that the other two should do the same.
There was, of course, a level of selfishness in it. His wife and two children were at the Institute. Angel was there too. He'd never been close to her, had never fully trusted her, but Lorna had cared about her and thought of her as family. Considering the fact that Alex hadn't had to invite Magneto over to any Thanksgiving dinners, he counted himself lucky that Angel was the only member of the Brotherhood who hung around. She'd taken care of his children, lived nearby, and overall been a good relative. She had, however slowly he'd come to realize it, earned his consideration.
Not knowing what had happened to his family was driving him crazy. He drummed his fingers on the armrest. As soon as he'd figured out that the Institute could be under attack, a million questions went through his mind. Why hadn't Scott called? Scott would know to call. He'd known enough to leave Deadpool behind as a messenger. He should've known to call.
Alex had, in his irritation, attempted to reach him through his cell phone. The call hadn't gone through. He'd tried fifteen more times, on different phones and to different people. He'd tried the X-men, his wife, his son. None of the calls had gone through.
He leaned his head against the window, thinking about what he might find when they arrived at Westchester. It wasn't a good feeling. Still, he tried to rationalize things. Even if, by some odd chance, Westchester had fallen, his family would be alright.
Lorna would have protected Max and Luna. She was the best soldier that he had ever fought alongside. She would fight to the death for her children, but it would never come to that. Angel wouldn't have left his children's side, so she would be fine too. Max was smart for his age, well-trained. He would be able to take care of his sister.
Scott would also be there. He was a capable leader, the only person that Alex could have dreamed of leaving in charge of the X-men. He'd already have an attack plan ready by the time they got there. The problem might have already solved itself. Alex knew there was only a slender chance of that happening, but it was there.
More than that, he could count on everyone at Westchester. They were all family, they all looked after each other. Alex repeated this in his head, letting his forehead press against the cold glass. He could depend on them.
"Everything alright?" Sharon asked.
She stood outside of the tent as Rahne looked at her hands. They were picking at the blanket, an absent gesture. She'd found her friend with ease once they had set up camp. Rahne had gotten out of the Institute quickly, but it hadn't stopped her from seeing some of the worse things that the night had had to offer.
Sharon was glad that she'd found her. It was obvious that the night was bringing up some painful memories.
"That woman with the wings," Rahne said, "She's dead, isn't she?"
Sharon nodded.
"I thought so," Rahne said, "I could smell it."
She put one of her hands in front of her face.
"I've never smelt death before," she said.
"I know," Sharon said.
She closed her eyes.
"It...it's impossible to describe," Sharon said.
She opened her eyes again and Rahne looked out of her tent.
"I don't want them to come again," she said, "I don't want to smell that. Ever."
"Me neither," Sharon said.
Rahne leaned back, her head on her pillow.
"Those people, who attacked the school," she said, "Who were they?"
Sharon sighed.
"We're not exactly sure," she said, "At least I'm not. The X-men might know more."
Rahne stared at the ceiling.
"Would your parents know?" she asked.
Her parents. Sharon felt a pang inside her heart. If everything had gone according to plan she would be at home right now. No one would have died. Instead, she would be in her living room, telling her parents that she was with David now.
It had been an alternate future, one that she had wanted very much. She hadn't known just how much she'd wanted it until the possibility of it had been snatched away. It left her feeling sick, as though something had been stolen from her.
"I don't know if they even know where we are," Sharon said, "I heard that cell phone service is down."
Rahne bit her lip. She turned her head so she was staring at the wall.
"Sharon?" she asked, "Can I ask you another question?"
"Sure," Sharon said.
"You smelt a lot like David when you came back," Rahne said.
Sharon blushed. She couldn't believe, in the middle of everything, she could still find it in her to blush about something like this.
"He was...I...we're together now," Sharon said, "But we haven't...um..."
Rahne laughed. Her friend's eyes met hers, and, for the first time, there was something normal in her face. It felt like they were back at the Institute, talking about random things over soda.
"I'd have been able to smell that you know," Rahne said.
Sharon felt her face flame even more. Rahne laughed again stretched.
"Your secret's safe with me, if it's a secret," she said, "But I'm glad that David isn't a moron."
"Me too," Sharon said, "And it's not exactly a secret, although my parents don't really know about it. I was going to tell them...but...you know."
Rahne nodded. Her smile began to slip and she frowned at the ceiling of the tent.
"Sharon, take care of yourself," Rahne said.
"I'll do my best," Sharon said.
"No, take care of yourself," Rahne said.
Her tone was serious. Sharon frowned and Rahne pursed her lips.
"David...him and his brother...one way or another I think that they might get into the center of things," she said, "And, well, I know you won't abandon them. You'll stand with them: it's who you are. Just don't hurt yourself when you do."
Sharon tucked some of her hair behind her ear, thinking through her friend's words.
"I'll try," Sharon said.
"Good enough," Rahne said.
She yawned.
"You get some sleep now," Sharon said, "I'm going to go-"
"Hang out with your boyfriend," Rahne said, "Got it."
Sharon smiled and got up.
"Night Rahne," she said.
"Night," Rahne said.
Sharon zipped up the door to the tent. Across from her she saw that Kurt was sitting next to Amanda. Amanda was speaking in a low voice, but Kurt didn't seem upset. He just seemed concerned, and she figured that was alright. Amanda had been through a lot.
She still didn't know what had possessed her to give Amanda an abbreviated version of the X-men's history. She had left certain details out, of course she had, but she had still told Amanda quite a bit. It appeared that it had given her strength though, so it couldn't be such a bad thing.
Sharon ran a hand through her hair. She sniffed the air and saw David coming up from the other side of the camp. He looked deep in thought, but his face seemed to lighten a little when he saw her.
Her own heart lifted at that thought. Not too long ago she would have traded almost anything to have him look at her like that. Now it was happening. They had kissed, he had told her how he felt about her, had invited her into his night had been a terrible nightmare, but there were still some things she could take comfort from.
As David approached his face changed. His head turned towards the left and his eyes narrowed. Sharon raised her eyebrows and sniffed the air. Her nose wrinkled and David crossed his arms, still staring into the shadows.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Mystique stepped into the light, looking bored.
"Patrolling," she said, "What else?"
"This area's secure," David said.
Mystique rolled her eyes before walking away. David watched her go. Only when she had disappeared did some of the tension leave his face. He directed his tension back to Sharon and continued his trip.
"What was up with that?" Sharon asked.
"I don't want her hanging around," David said.
Sharon looked after Mystique.
"I know she's your aunt," she said, her voice quiet, "You don't have to hate her because of what happened between her and your father."
David gave her a long look, as if debating something. In the end he just shrugged.
"I can't bring myself to trust her either," he said.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Tired?" Sharon asked.
"I could ask you the same," David said.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Sharon felt him tilt his head as he buried his face in her hair. She leaned into his touch and held him back. As pleasant as it was, she had the feeling that something was wrong.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Fine," he said, "I was just...rehashing the past."
He loosened his grip.
"We should probably get some shut eye," he said.
"Probably," Sharon agreed.
David hesitated. He looked around them.
"I don't suppose that you'd..." he said.
"What?" Sharon asked.
He smiled nervously.
"I'd like to keep you near me," he said, "And we don't have as many tents as we'd like..."
Sharon blushed. She was doing that quite a bit that night. David did the same, rubbing his neck. She'd never seen him look so vulnerable, and it almost broke her heart.
"I just want you near me," he said.
"It's okay," Sharon said.
She took his hand and tilted her head towards Kurt and Amanda. Amanda was nearly asleep, her head on Kurt's arm.
"I think that we all want people we care about near us tonight," she said.
David smiled and leaned in. He kissed her softly before hugging her again.
"Yeah," he said.
