A/N: Trying to get the juices flowing again.


The Demon on My Right Shoulder


It started with a strangely shell-shocked Scott Summers stumbling out of the kitchen.

Not the adult one—he was nigh unflappable—but the time-displaced teen Cyclops-counterpart.

A concerned Laura was immediately by his side, shortly followed by a questioning teen Jean and a curious Kitty.

"It's older-me and Professor Rasputin." The young Scott absently murmured; Kitty and the young Jean stiffened in response—not that the young Scott noticed as he continued, "They're both making food and…"

"Yes?" Laura prompted after his abrupt pause.

"They're so… chummy." He finally managed to find the words to describe what it was that stupefied him. "Incredibly so. Is—is there something going on between them…?"

"Not when I'm around." Kitty seethed and angrily marched off towards the kitchen.

That jolted the young Scott out of his daze.

"Scott! Illyana! Whatever it is you two are up to, I swear that-"

"Wait, Professor K! They said-"

Kitty was suddenly engulfed in bright light before disappearing.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…So…?" The young Jean broke the silence.

"Let's go bring her back." The young Scott recommended. "We're not allowed to enter the kitchen."

"What exactly are older-you and Professor Rasputin doing?"

Laura visibly sniffed before concluding, "Cooking."

"Yeah." The young Scott nodded resolutely. "Cooking."

-0-0-0-

Inside the kitchen, Scott glanced over his shoulder towards his unperturbed companion.

"You know…" He began, setting the pepper grinder back on the counter. "She will be furious with you when she returns."

Illyana Rasputin—seated on the chair, its back facing him, with her arms resting atop its frame—tilted her head with an air of aloofness. She had taken up that spot minutes before—when she stumbled upon the cooking leader while retrieving a glass of water. Since then, she had occupied her time with helping him cook while staring, unbeknownst to the oblivious man, at the chiseled muscles of his taut rear.

"Kitty has been furious about many things lately," Illyana remarked uncaringly, "at times for reasons incommensurate with her fury or even unwarranted."

"And tossing her to…?"

"A high mountain nearby." Illyana helpfully supplied.

"…isn't that warranted?"

"Perhaps. But she has no business barging in on my…" Illyana trailed; whether in concentration at her appointed task or to deliberate a word, Scott was uncertain. "…business."

"Illyana…"

"Don't worry so much." She chided the seasoned X-Man. "I'll retrieve her if she isn't back after we've finished. Now, where were we?"

"…Carrots."

The plate beside him lit up as numerous blue discs appeared and segmented the carrots.

-0-0-0-

"Scott is with Illyana?" Emma Frost grit out in disbelief when she heard the news from the trio. "This is bad. This is very bad."

"I agree!" Jeen raised her hand emphatically. "Professor Frost, you must do something!"

Emma fell uncharacteristically silent and stared at the earnest redhead hard.

"Professor?"

"…Ms. Grey." Emma drawled, her cultured voice sounding more snobbish, "I have stared into death's eyes until it flinched more times than I have fingers. I have watched as empires crumbled. I have buried children with my own two hands. I have threatened and dared command the Phoenix Force."

"What's this?" The Snow Princess, Bobby Drake, piped in with a mouth filled with chips. "Are you just trying to tell us you're old?"

Emma glared at the clown, and Bobby actually felt parts of him melt.

"Girls, if you would be so kind."

"Yes, mother." The Cuckoos acquiesced in-sync before resuming their discussion.

"What are—oh, suddenly, I feel like watching a show colloquially known as '2 Girls 1 Cup'." The Snow Princess blinked. "Wait, what does 'colloquial' even mean? And what's '2 Girls 1 Cup'?"

Abruptly, Bobby stood up and searched for Hank's computer.

"Thank you, girls." Emma nodded at her daughters and then returned her attention to the confused Grey. "As I have said, I have put up with a great many events and remained as I am. Diamond."

"And how does that…"

Emma clawed Jeen's face and squeezed both her cheeks with one hand.

"Illyana Rasputin frightens me." The White Queen shamelessly admitted.

"But-" Jeen attempted to protest.

"A-bu-bu-bu." Emma chided her into silence. "Illyana Rasputin frightens me and there is no way in hell I'm getting in between her and whatever she is up to."

Emma released Jeen.

"You will soon learn that there are more dreadful horrors in this world, Ms. Grey, than are dreamt up in your fears and nightmares. One example just happens to be with Scott, currently."

-0-0-0-

"I'm honestly impressed by the degree of your control." Scott praised her while pouring the finely chopped carrots into the stew.

"I'm still impressed you can cook." Illyana returned in her usual tepid tone. "I thought it would kill us; imagine my surprise when it was good."

Scott shrugged. "I'm only decent. I thought I'd kill myself too when I started, but you know what they say: what doesn't kill you-"

"Only gives you diarrhea." Illyana finished with a grin.

Once more, Scott paused and stared at the grinning mutant. "…right. That." He sighed. "Anyway, I'm almost done here. I think you should retrieve Kitty."

"Is that an order, Scott?" Illyana leered.

"It's a suggestion." Scott clarified smoothly. "Kitty really will be furious at you."

"And I should retrieve her because…?"

"Kitty's been under a lot of stress lately." Scott explained, absently stirring the stew he was cooking. "It would ease off the tension. It'd make her happier."

Illyana scoffed at the thought. Resolutely, she declared, "When the dilemma arises, I am not so benevolent as to choose another's happiness over mine."

Scott could understand those sentiments so perfectly that it was uncanny. Unsettling, even. "Friendships are to be treasured."

Illyana shook her head. "I do not want fair-weathered friends."

"You're very strong to think that way, Illyana."

"I grew up where I grew up in the manner I grew up in." She answered cryptically.

Scott was aware of Illyana's inner conflict.

While Illyana could dream of a life where she was never brought to Limbo, so could Illyana see that Limbo was not all bad. Amidst all the strife, Illyana had also made friends and loyal followers—demons that would quite literally die for her if she asked, and she gained abilities that had kept both herself and her friends alive on more than one occasion.

Maybe that was why she felt she was damned—because a small part of her knew and accepted that Limbo was not all bad; that there was goodness that still existed in hell.

It was truly biased to judge Illyana solely against the usual moral precepts.

And yet…

"You still have a long life ahead of you." Scott continued. "Your strength will isolate you if you flaunt it."

Illyana closed her eyes and tilted her head backwards, deliberating Scott's advice. She knew he was speaking from experience.

Scott, after all, was a walking pillar of regret.

But still…

Illyana appeared at his side in a flash of blue light.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Illyana asked, leaning over the countertop. "I was born with this power; there is no reason I must pull myself back simply because others will feel inferior." She told him—gazing up at him with eyes that Scott found were filled with innocent clarity. "I am only being true to myself. Though we entered this world in the same manner, none of us are, by any means, equal. We are, after all, individuals. My only responsibility is to see myself to my full potential."

"That is selfish." Scott pointed out kindly. "Potatoes."

"It is the truth." Illyana shrugged nonchalantly and proceeding cutting the potatoes with her mutant gift. "How much happiness has living for others brought you?"

Illyana smiled when Scott remained silent—reflecting. "I am happy." She declared.

"So you say…" Scott began and turned to her, a feeling of fulfillment tugging the corner of his lips upward when he arrived at his answer. "But I prefer living my life like so. Doing my part so that another won't have to live the lives we did… it's enough. Just like you, I've made my choice."

"Martyr complex."

"Blame it on my upbringing."

Illyana leaned on his shoulder, her eyes drooping to stare at the pot.

"Altruism is dead."

"Death implies it was once alive." Scott pointed out. "Altruism never existed."

"You sound so very jaded."

"I've come to realize that everyone's just doing what they want."

"Except for you." Illyana pointed out. "Xavier's first puppet. Even now, you dance like a marionette swaying to the symphony of his whims."

"You make it sound as if his teachings are all I know."

"Am I wrong?"

At that, Scott actually smirked. "He never taught me to cook."

Life did.

Necessity did.

"So he didn't." Illyana pushed herself off the backrest she had been leaning on before stretching—delighting in all the muscles pulled loose. "That is a relief."

A spoon appeared in Illyana's grasp and she scooped a sample of Scott's stew. Blowing on it once, she pressed the spoon against her lips and tasted it.

"You need more spice, Scott." She commented and offered the spoon up to his lips. "See?"

Scott took the offering and found that Illyana was right.

"It seems I do, Illyana." He murmured. "It seems I do."

They both waited patiently as life stewed.

-0-0-0-

"Don't do it, Jean!" Teen Scott yelled. "Don't do it!"

The redhead ignored the warning.

"Raaargh!"

A blue light engulfed the charging redhead and she disappeared.

"…"

"…"

"Laura?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"Do you want to help me go get Professor K and Jean?"

"…In a moment." Laura said. "The stew is almost finished."


Omake: Dimension Cutter

"You know, I think this is a bad idea." A nameless SHIELD officer told his superior, Maria Hill.

"And why is that?"

"Magik knows that we have the X-Men are helping us detain Scott Summers and still she came alone."

"Your point?"

"I… well…" The nameless SHIELD officer tried to explain before finally giving up. "It's just a gut feeling, ma'am."

"Gut feelings cannot be trusted. Facts, are. We have the entire staff of the Jean Grey School—the X-Men, experts on the capabilities of these terrorists and… and…" The SHIELD director's brows knit, "Agent, where is this opera music coming from?"

Indeed, ominous opera chanting filled the helicarrier.

"I don't know, ma'am."

Down below, the JGS staff also looked at each other in confusion.

"Am I the only one hearing an opera song?" Wolverine glanced at his companions.

"No, I do, too." Storm said before turning to the team's telepaths. "Rachel? Betsy?"

"It's not telepathy." Psylocke reported.

"It has a catchy melody, though." Rachel commented as a piano riff set in.

The team collectively chose to ignore it and the beat that followed.

"Illyana, step down." Storm demanded.

"I am not in the mood for niceties today." Illyana glared. "Return Scott, and none of you will die."

"Kid," Wolverine began in a patronizing tone. "You know you can't kill us if you wanted to. Let's not do this before you get hurt."

In response, numerous narrow discs of blue light erupted on the gathered mutant's bodies, segmenting their bodies and teleporting their parts to numerous locations.

"I did not ask for your guesswork."

Do the impossible, see the invisible.

Row, row, fight the power!

"You move outside these discs, you die." Illyana stated in a chilling tone. "I close these discs, you die."

Touch the untouchable, break the unbreakable.

Row, row, fight the power!

"Now, give me Scott."

Row, row, FIGHT THE POWER!