It was inside one of these that Forge was now feverishly working. His converted hand, more metal than flesh, buzzed as he slotted it into various pocks and splinters, hoping against hope he was doing this right. If he made even one slight mistake, missed just one security fuse, then they'd all be toast. Him, the X-Men, that strange girl and boy they had with them, Jubilee ...
A strange, almost fuzzy feeling crept into his chest, and he blinked, pausing momentarily at the strangeness of it. For a second he wondered if it was some aftereffect of the drug they'd pumped into him, but something at the back of his mind niggled at that, telling him it was something else. Something ... more ...
"Fixit!" Logan's thundering voice snapped him from his reverie, and he all but cracked his head on the inside of the aperture. He'd had to crawl all the way in here, and space was something he didn't have the luxury of. Forge dearly wished he knew how this was all going to end, and not just for him, as he'd done in the Middleverse. Some far-removed part of him wanted to know if he'd make it out of this ship alive, if he'd ever get to see the daughter Jubilee had told him about. He'd never even thought about having kids, and now it seemed he had one ready-made.
Susan.
Jubilee's description had been brief, and he wanted to know what she looked like. *Really* looked like. Family was an important commodity to someone who'd been separated for years from his own by a screwy invention, and before either she left or he died, he wanted to meet, or at the very least see his offspring.
In front of him, the point of his omnitool sheared through a red wire, snagging the end and linking it to a yellow he'd already severed. There were a few sparks, and one landed on his cheek. He jerked back, yelping, but even as he did so there was a familiar sound around him. The sound he'd been hearing ever since he started inventing things, long before his mutations kicked in. The sound of machinery powering up.
Scrabbling out of the hole, he yelled across to where the others were braced against a door that was now covered in bumps and pockmarks where something large and heavy had hit it from the other side. "We are go!"
Logan took charge. "Nicole, Jubilee, get in the teleporter."
"Not without you," Jubilee started, but he cut her off with a growl.
"Just *do* it!"
Wordlessly, Nicole grabbed Jubilee by the wrist and forcibly dragged her to the pad, only releasing the younger girl when her feet were firmly within the white ring. Then she moved towards Ricky, Evan and Kitty. Forge followed her, and together they somehow managed to manoeuvre Evan onto the pad without injuring him further.
Logan grunted as the guards rammed the door again, this time making a dent that drove into his back. It was so sharp it drew blood, and though the rapidly-healing wound didn't bother him unduly, the progress they were making did. He knew that if they couldn't break down the door, then they'd break it to pieces instead.
"Red!" he called, watching as Forge advanced for Ricky and Nicole gesticulated wildly, telling him that if they put any more people on then the teleporter would overload and vaporise them, let alone blow them to smithereens. _Aw, crap! That means two trips, and twice the chance of gettin' hurt!_
Jean looked up, hands still pressed to her forehead. _What?_
"Get to the other teleporter. Take Half-pint with ya. Ricky's goin' with Jubilee, an' they can't take no more passengers."
Even though she wanted to travel with her son and didn't want to leave Logan any longer than she had to, Jean nodded, and started backing away towards the other pad. She kept up the pressure on the door, helping him as much as she could *while* she still could, keeping her eyes trained on her teacher and teammate. As soon as she reached Kitty, however, she was forced to look away in order to pick the exhausted girl up.
{KABOOM!}
The guards' beating seemed twice as loud now, and small holes were beginning to appear everywhere in the metal. Jean pelted for the second pad even as Nicole shoved Forge onto the first and dashed down to fiddle with the controls. Before the genius could even get up, a large Plexiglas dome slid into place over the teleporter. It was dotted with tiny nodes, which glowed bright yellow for a second until the entire interior was too blinding to look at.
{FAWHOOSH!}
Seconds later, the occupants of the first pad were gone.
Jean stood on the second, beckoning for Logan and Nicole to follow. Without a backward glance Logan did so, diving forward into the circle and joining her yells for Nicole to hurry up and follow.
Nicole tapped hurriedly at the second set of controls. Setting the teleporters to autopilot took a little longer than operating it manually, and her fingers fairly flew over the keypad as she tapped in coordinates and load, hoping as much as Forge had done that this would work, and they wouldn't all end up on the other side as a mess of blood, bones and other unpleasant bits.
{KABOOM!}
{KABOOM!}
{KA-CRASH!}
The long-suffering doors flew open, hinges smashing. A stream of soldiers bearing the FoH symbol poured in, weapons cocked and ready to fire.
Which they did.
In spades.
Nicole let out a small gasp as a laser of a vibrant hue streaked into her shoulder. Spatters of her own blood flew onto the console, and she lurched forward in pain and shock.
"Kill them!" one of the guards yelled. "Kill them all!"
"Nicole!" Logan shouted, popping his claws to go and fight her way out of there.
Nicole grit her teeth and punched in the last few numbers, then hit the last key. A small countdown box appeared, and she took a moment to smash the console beyond use before bolting for the teleporter pad.
Jean, still holding Kitty, held her breath and used what remained of her failing strength to beat back the oncoming hordes. But there were simply too many of them, and though she tried valiantly, and Nicole dodged and weaved like the best, it was ostensibly inevitable that one of them would get a lucky shot.
It hit Nicole in the small of her back, severing her spine and sending her sprawling on suddenly useless legs. Both Kitty and Jean screamed, the former perhaps louder than her strength would allow, and Logan let out a roar. He started to bound forth, but the fallen Neo yanked her head up and threw a comment at him that kept him rooted in place.
"Stay there! It's set to teleport in a few seconds. If you miss it, there isn't a second chance!"
True to her words, moments later the Plexiglas hood slid over them, and Logan was left pressing his hands impotently against it. For a moment it seemed like he was going to shatter it, but evidently he thought better of it and stepped backwards instead as the nodes powered up and began to glow.
Kitty struggled in Jean's arms, shrieking. The redhead tried to hold her still, but Kitty was nearly hysterical. The glass muffled her screeching, but Nicole managed to lipread a single word as yellow light filled the dome and the three of them were obfuscated from view.
"... Daughter ..."
The baying mob of soldiers were too close to ignore, and with an alacrity Quicksilver would've been proud of, Nicole made a decision she'd been playing with ever since they got on this stinking ship.
Summoning the strength of her wounded body, leaking pools of red onto the metallic floor, she concentrated hard and reached into the deepest recesses of her mind. Slowly, fractionally, her outline began to blur, and she became detached from the world. So much so, in fact, that when a burst of laserfire hit her neck and went straight through and didn't injure her in the slightest, she didn't even notice.
The guards watched in dismay as their quarry literally turned to smoke before their eyes, and then as the smoke swished up to the ceiling of the chamber and filtered through the ventilation shaft.
One of the foremost voiced all their thoughts as it vanished from view and the Plexiglas on the second pad slipped back to reveal an empty space where three mutants had once stood.
"Oh *shit*!"
*
Richards and Matthews swivelled around as a strange, odious-smelling gas filtered through the vent behind them. Their expressions were surprised. Even more so when it reformed to become a human figure lying on the floor. Especially since it was one they both recognised.
Nicole grinned up at them, blood dribbling from the corner of her lips.
The commanding pair reached for the lasers they kept sequestered beneath their dual control panel, but she was ready for them. When reforming, she'd made sure to place her own gun in her hands, and levelled it between the two at the console beyond.
Her own voice spoke to her through the ether of time and memory. _This weapon can shoot anything._
"I'm coming, Joshua. I'm coming."
The laser highlighted the room a dazzling blue, which was quickly replaced by orangey-yellow as the main console for the entire ship burst into flames. Matthews screamed, and Richards covered her head, but it was too late.
Outside, those looking on watched in horror and morbid wonder as the huge, bulky FoH ship became a blossom of fire that illuminated the night sky like a second sun.
*
At the very core of the FoH ship sat the supergenerators that kept the base suspended outside of its own time. Or at least, they had sat there until quite recently.
Nicole's laser had sent the control room up in flames. Flames that spread quickly, setting off a chain of explosions. The generators had blown apart, spending almost no time at all as falling debris before they disappeared back into the fabric of time.
One Ms. Florence West had happened to be looking up at the precise moment all this happened. She saw a weird floating ship consumed by a ball of fire, which then drew in on itself and vanished into thin air. The next morning she was quoted in a Bayville Herald story about extraterrestrials.
The last radio waves from the base crossed Bayville's airspace at a tremendous speed. A tiny fraction of a second later, the antenna of the device in Rimmer's pocket failed to receive any further broadcast. He flickered once and ceased existing in the Xavier Institute Danger Room, 2002 AD.
*
It was a somewhat unnerving sight. The Triad awoke, and they awoke almost simultaneously.
Pietro, still recovering from his wounds, cowered in a corner when he saw Wanda sit up. Oddly enough, though, there was no look of rage or bitterness upon her face. It seemed, indeed, that her short nap had revitalized her to the state she had been in all those years ago, when they had been together, before the asylum.
She did not spare him even the slightest glance though, as she helped the others sit up.
There was a companionable silence between the three of them, the kind of silence that comes from needing no words to communicate their feelings.
That strange, beautiful silence could have stretched forever, had Sam and Bobby not suddenly bounded through the door.
"Rimmer's gone!" they cried in unison.
"What?!" cried Storm. "Send search parties out immediately, ask the Professor to see if he can pick up any telepathic signature, perhaps - "
"There's no need for that." The quiet voice came from another person who had entered the room, Margretha.
"I've just been outside. There was an explosion in the sky, the ship or station the FoH were using must have blown up. They were probably using some sort of broadcast device as a Nullifier to hold their people in this time. When the ship was destroyed, the Nullifier stopped working, and Rimmer would have been returned to his own time."
"Excellent," said Storm. "At least we have one less thing to worry about. But what about Logan and the others?"
*
"Oh my God," Jean whispered as the last vestiges of orange were sucked from the sky.
They were the only words anybody had spoken for several minutes. The group of mutants so recently expelled from the FoH ship found themselves just staring heavenwards, a mixture of horror and awe that they were still alive stilling their tongues.
Jean's soft voice had an electric effect upon Kitty, who seemed to have been stunned into quiescence by the force of the teleporter. It had been worse than 'porting with Kurt, and took several long minutes for each queasy stomach to calm down enough that they could move without immediately throwing up.
Now, Kitty suddenly arched her back, startling Jean and allowing herself to tumble from the redhead's arms.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed, reaching a hand towards the blank patch of sky.
Jean winced at the sudden onslaught of mental images, and raised her shielding. Then she bent down, trying to comfort the distraught phaser, but Kitty pushed her away.
"We left her," she cried, the first tear tracking a path down her grimy cheek. "She was lying there, and we just ... we just *abandoned* her."
"Kitty, there was nothing we could do - "
"We could've gone back! We could've stopped the teleporter. Something - anything!" A second tear fell, then a third. Kitty sniffed, voice catching in her gullet.
A few feet away, Jubilee crumbled to her knees, shock and exhaustion from the past few hours finally catching up with her. Forge crouched down and looped an arm about her shoulders, letting her snivel into his still-bare shoulder.
Evan, sitting painfully nearby next to an unconscious Ricky, just looked stunned, and though his mouth moved, not a sound would come out of it. The news of Nicole's passing and what he'd just seen robbed him of his usual verbosity.
Jean tried again to comfort her teammate, but Kitty lashed out with a foot and knocked her away with a sharp 'crack'. Jean fell back, a gasp of pain on her lips that quickly turned to one of surprise when Logan darted forward and roughly grabbed Kitty's shoulders.
Kitty stared at him, blue eyes wide and shining with yet more tears. Logan hadn't said anything or moved a muscle since they reappeared out here next to the Velocity, but his expression now was one of anger and ... grief?
"Don't you dare, Half-pint," he growled, but there was a strange hitch to his tone none of them had ever witnessed before. "Jean's not to blame, so don't go takin' it out on her."
Kitty gulped, and when she spoke again her voice was little more than a croak. "But ... but she was my daughter .... Granted, I didn't know her for long, but I'm her Mom .... Moms are supposed to *protect* their kids. Not ... not leave 'em to die like that."
Logan's face didn't falter, but he drew Kitty into what could only be described as a fatherly hug. She, in turn, buried her face into him, unleashing the sobs bubbling beneath the surface. Neither of them seemed concerned about the sudden contact, and though Logan turned his face away Jean was certain she saw a wet gleam in his usually harsh eyes.
"She was all alone ...." Kitty sobbed, body juddering in Logan's strong arms.
"It wasn't your fault, Kitty," he replied gruffly, using her real name for once and shushing her as best he could. "It weren't nobody's fault."
But anyone there could see that he didn't believe his own words.
A short while later the news of the team's success, and their loss, spilt into the mansion via the benefits of telepathic communication.
The large house took on a quiet, muted tone. They had never lost an X-Man before. It somehow made everything they did a lot more special, made them realize what chances they took.
Almost everyone was there to receive the Velocity; they each offered hugs and condolences to those on board. But Kitty ignored them all. She pushed past them, and phased through a wall. She wanted to be alone for a while.
*
"Hey," said Todd, "isn't this where Fuzz-butt usually mopes?"
Kitty, sitting on the balcony in Kurt's room, turned a tear-streaked face in his direction, a little angered at being disturbed.
"Go 'way," she said.
Todd, more than used to being told this, ignored her and sat down beside her.
A strange, awkward silence followed.
"Look," said Todd at last. "She ... she was my daughter too, you know."
Kitty sniffed. "What do you care?"
"She was my Daughter," Todd said again, with more emphasis. "It's funny, yo. I always thought ... well ... see, I'm the ugliest thing this side of a slimy stone. I mean, there are things under compost piles that look better than me. I always figured that ... you know ... having kids was just like ... well, it wasn't going to happen. Then I figure it might and I meet her, I mean Nicole, and she's well, she's like this hero. This beautiful girl with all this passion and strength and stuff. Way outta my league, way better than I am, probably better than I'll ever be. I think ... I think she got a lotta it out of her momma, tell ya the truth. I just wish ... I just wish I coulda known her better. But, seein' as that ain't happening any more, I'd like to, you know, get to know you a little bit. Anyhow, if she was as good as she seemed, the type who wouldn't bend to anythin', then I figure, why we mopin' and givin' up hope? It's not her style, not what she woulda wanted."
Todd fell silent, having run out of words at last.
Then, with a sound like 'meep' Kitty threw herself around Todd and hugged him, ignoring the stench. And Todd hugged her back, not because of what he hoped to gain, but because of what they both had lost.
*
Lance pressed his ear to the door, but couldn't for the life of him hear anything but muffled voices. He knew who was in there, though. Kitty-kat and that little crud, Todd.
An expression of jealousy briefly flitted across his face as he recalled what Victoria's notebook had said about Nicole's parentage, but was quickly replaced by anger. He pushed off the bedroom door Todd had so kindly locked behind him, and raised a fist as if to knock it.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
He whirled around, hand still raised. "Whaddya want, shrimp?"
Margretha regarded him coldly, golden eyes appraising. Lance felt himself diminish a few psychological inches, despite her height and age when compared to him.
Margretha folded her arms, and behind one leg her tail flitted into view. "Just give them a moment of peace, huh?"
"Why should I?" Lance demanded, a little huffy. "Kitty's my girlfriend. I should be the one in there comforting her."
"Did you father a child by her? No. The comforting's not only going one way, Lance Alvers. Todd may not have known Nicole as well as Shadowcat, but she was still his daughter. Nobody truly knows what it's like to lose a child until it happens. What they need right now is each other. Don't worry. Without the breeding pens Kitty will most likely never couple with him, but that doesn't change the hurt they're feeling right now." She sighed, lowering her eyes. "Just ... give them a few minutes, OK?"
It was a second before he answered, but when he did his voice was resigned, and he dropped his chin onto his chest. "OK."
*
Edward Kelly was rapidly developing neurotic tendencies. He jumped at every loud noise, looked around the room as if he expected one of the pillows to attack him, and was generally twitchy.
Every few moments, he would gasp for breath and loosen his tie. He had also undone a button or two, revealing more of himself than any of the students had ever wanted to see.
"Plenty of air for all of us," Rogue commented after the latest of these episodes.
"We're not going to let you die," Bobby sighed. He and Sam had continued their guarding duties with the principal as the object of their protection. "Honestly."
"What happened to my life?" Kelly cried, his face falling into his hands. "I'm sitting in a basement, with a bunch of mutant teenagers, watching movies and waiting to die!"
"Oh, be a man about it," Amara sniped, without taking her eyes from the action onscreen.
"I'm only 36!" he wailed.
"You've lived a long, full life," Jamie soothed, though in truth he knew next to nothing about the distraught adult.
"Er, Jamie ..." Sam's features twisted in a sort of empathetic embarrassment. "36 is not old."
Some unimportant movie character chose that moment to kick the bucket.
Kelly groaned and curled into a foetal position in his chair.
*
Logan was mad. He didn't like losing team members. Ever. Under any circumstances.
If Nicole had more experience with her powers. If Fixit had worked faster. If Elf had been well enough to come along.
Then maybe she'd have come home safely.
For once, Logan was glad of his near-immortality. He wanted to catch up to the future and the FoH that had killed her. He wanted to *get* them, in a really painful way.
And maybe not quite finish the job, so he could do it again.
*
Most people presumed that Freddy Dukes was stupid. This was not entirely true. He wasn't particularly clever. He certainly wasn't fast. But he was't stupid, either. True stupidity comes in the form of someone who not only knows nothing, but does not, in fact, know that they know nothing.
Freddy was completely aware that he was not bright, and thus made no pretences otherwise. On the other hand, when he did think he really thought. Thus it was that, after many hours of quiet time alone, he came up with a question that should have really been considered by the others.
"Susan," he drawled carefully. "I got a question."
"Fire it."
"Well, I been thinking. If we change history so that none of this bad stuff ever happens, then you won't never have been born, right?"
"Well ... some of us won't have, anyway. But yes, that's right."
"Then how are you gonner come back and stop all this from happenin'? If any of it happens, that is."
"Ah," said Susan, with an air of someone that has been waiting for a certain question to be asked and knows she is now able to show just how smart she really is.
"That's a very good question. You see, we think of time as like a river ... a river with lots and lots of little offshoots and streams. These ... offshoots, represent alternative universes, things that *could* have happened. Now, at the moment you are in the main stream of time, as am I, if a little further down than you. Right?"
"Uhh ... right."
"Good. Now, we believe that when we change time, out future will move from being part of the main 'timestream,' to one of the little offshoots. It will still exist enough for us to affect this universe, but not enough that it is your future."
"But ... that means that nothing will change for you, right?"
Susan frowned. "Maybe," she said, "or maybe not. We're not sure about it. Some would argue less, others would say that nothing actually exists in those timestreams, but time itself recognises their existence and accounts for their existence and effect, but that mostly they're just abstract universes. That answer your question?"
"Sorta," replied the large boy. "Give me a while to think about it, an' I'll tell ya."
With a smile, Susan nodded and moved away. She liked Freddy; he reminded her of his son, Timmy.
God, things were moving fast now, it would not be long before that theory was put into practice. They were all gathered together, their moves made, their pieces in position, soon they would face Smash. Somthing troubled her. What more could they do to prepare for the oncoming battle? Pray, perhaps?
*
"My condolences."
A white hand moved a piece across the chessboard.
"Yes, a shame. Her potential was ... considerable."
Another white hand moved an opposing piece across the board before its owner spoke again.
"Do you think the situation will be altered by the children's actions?"
The second considered the first.
"It is a possibility, one I would not rule out. It would be a shame if such unique data were lost."
Neither looked at the series of vials in the glass container.
"Indeed."
Another piece was moved across the board.
"It would hardly be the act of a gentleman to leave you uninformed of our present situation."
The other figure was silent, but ruby eyes blinked an acknowledgement before returning their gaze towards the board.
"I am not familiar with this particular gambit."
"It is one you will learn ... in time."
Two men sat and faced each other over the board ... and grinned an identical grin.
*
Victoria stood outside the infirmary, scuffing her feet. When Beast finally appeared she practically launched herself at him, and he fended her off with an arm full of bandages.
"How is he?"
Hank raised an eyebrow. "Which 'he' are you referring to? I have several in residence at the moment."
"Da - Evan," she corrected herself hurriedly.
Having been privy to the terrible injuries of her future father, Victoria had wasted no time in sequestering herself outside the door for news of his condition. Evan had been more unconscious than awake when Logan's team arrived back at the Institute, and information on their mission had been sparse apart from two facts: 1) they'd been successful in rescuing the two captives, and 2) Nicole had died in the line of duty, and somehow managed to finish off the FoH ship at the same time.
Grief for her teammate was still an open wound; she and Nicole had hardly been the best of friends, but they'd been closer than many would've believed with the prickly mutant, and her loss was acute. However, dealing with such occurances virtually every day of her ultimately short life had hardened the Neo, and though her pain was sharp, she kept it firmly in check until the mission was over.
Worry for Evan, however, was a different matter entirely. Despite all his blustering and unfriendliness, Victoria liked this younger version of her father, and didn't want anything to happen to him if she could help it. He was a lot more innocent than the Spyke she knew, and in some recess of her mind she preferred him this way. Unscarred by a world constantly seeking to destroy him and those he loved.
Hank sighed. "His injuries are severe, I'm afraid. But I have the good news that they're not life-threatening, at least. I've treated them as best I can at present. What concerns me is not his physical state, but his mental one."
"Excuse me?" A thousand alarm bells jangled out of tune, and she leaned forward, biting her lip.
"He hasn't said a word since he got back, and refuses to even so much as look at anybody else. I believe he is taking the loss of your teammate rather hard."
Victoria nodded, then cleared her throat. "Can I ... can I se him?"
Hank surveyed her for a moment, his gaze scrutinising. "I'm not sure if that would be a good iea," he said after a while, though it was clear from his voice that he was talking to himself as much as to her.
"Please." She reached out and gripped his wrist. He looked down at her hand, and saw that she didn't flinch when she touched him as most of the students still did. In fact, she hardly even seemed to notice that he was furry at all.
"Please," she said again, reclaiming his attention and returning it to her face. "Just for a moment?"
Beast sighed, and wordlessly gestured her in.
The infirmary doors slid back with a loud hiss, and Victoria stepped in, jumping a little as they closed again behind her. At the sound she made, three faces looked up at her in unison, and smiled a precursory greeting.
Kevin, Wanda and Betsy were seated in a small ring on the floor. It was unclear just exactly what they were doing, and frankly, she didn't have enough time or inclination to find out, either. Instead, Victoria slid along the rows of beds, sparing a short stop at Ricky's side to stroke his hair in a sisterly manner. The younger mutant was still unconscious, and had been rigged up to several machines. A long, clear plastic drip traced a line into his forearm, and his eyes roved constantly beneath their lids in some unspoken dream.
_Or nightmare,_ she thought wryly, moving on to the curtained-off area in the corner where Evan could only be.
Pietro had been deemed fit enough to leave after Hank treated the wound in his hand as best he could, and the speedster had done so in great haste, even for him. Apparently, not all wounds between he and his twin were healed, but judging by the look on Wanda's face, she didn't care one jot about any unfinished issues.
Carefully drawing back one side of the curtain, Victoria peered past it into the tiny space beyond. Evan lay on his front, white bandages thick around his back and chest. Several interesting machines beeped softly from nodes attached to various parts of his person. His face was turned away, however, and he made no movement when she entered and pulled the curtain shut behind her.
"Evan?"
No answer. She cleared her throat and tried again.
"Evan, are you awake?"
Nothing, but she could tell from his uneven breathing and rapid heartbeat that slumber had not yet claimed him. Gently she moved forward, and crouched down next to his upper body so that her face was just about level with the back of his skull.
"Do ... you wanna talk about ... anything?"
His abrupt answer startled her. "No. Piss off."
She swallowed, at pretty much a loss for what to say. "It wasn't your fault," she attempted, using the maxim she'd been forced to use upon so many occasions in her own time. Each teammate they'd lost, each mutant recovered in terrible condition; Spyke had always blamed himself for not being there quicker, not doing more, not *being* more. It hurt that she had to use it now as well. This time period was supposed to be different, but so many things were turning out to be exactly the same.
Evan grunted, but said nothing more.
Victoria felt a little anger rise in her gullet. It wasn't fair! Things were meant to be different here, better. There wasn't meant to be all this grief. She had a chance, a golden chance, to change the future and to meet her father as he *should* have been. Not full of bitterness and sadness and duty, but as a kid, carefree, enthusiastic, optimistic.
"Fine!" she hissed. "You go and act like a spoilt brat. Go sulk. See what good that does. Nicole's dead. She knew that she had to take that risk when she came, but she died helping us, she died so that we could have a chance. Now, if you want to mope that chance away, fine. If you want to grow up into the hell-hole that we live in, to condemn hundreds of mutants to slow deaths, then that's your choice. But I'll tell you this: you better change soon, 'cos if you don't then you ain't going to be the Spyke I know. The leader of the X-Men, the one man who represents any sort of hope or stability in our universe. The man who is ... who was my hero."
With this she began to storm out. She was almost through the door when a soft voice behind her said, "This isn't how it was meant to be."
She turned. Evan still had his back to her, but he was muttering. "It was meant to be fun," he said softly. "You know, just six kids discovering their powers, learning to grow up, stuff like that. I never thought someone could ... could die ..."
"I know," sighed Victoria. "But people do die, whatever you do. Our power is to try to make it happen as few times as possible, and to ensure that, when they do die, we make something out of that death, celebrate their lives, make the most of what they've given us."
"... Thanks."
Victoria smiled. "No prob. Can I get you anything?"
"I'd like to be alone for a bit," said Evan, "if that's OK? Just a few minutes."
"Sure," replied Victoria, and she left, the curtains swishing closed behind her.
When he was sure she was gone, Evan rolled over onto his side, and cried softly into his pillow.
Victoria stood in front of the doors, listening. She took another step, and they opened, but again she stepped back and let them close with her still inside the rom. Such indecision.
_Why not?_ He was *crying* for pity's sake. She'd long since trained herself not to give in to such shows of emotion, but her heart jerked to hear the soft snivels, slightly muffled as he tried to protect his own weakness.
He'd never seen death before. Never been so close to it as he was right now. It stared him in the face, taunting him as it spirited Nicole away.
He didn't know her for so long, part of her brain insisted. He's just being weak-minded. Where's the strong leader you know?
_Death was what made him that way. Seeing his teammates tortured and killed and knowing he couldn't do anything about it. Nobody was there to make it easier, to take the pain away, so he changed into ... into ..._
"Into my Dad."
Wordlessly, she turned, feet slapping the cold tiles of the infirmary. The Triad looked up as she passed, but she ignored them, bursting through the percale curtains and dropping to her knees. Her kneecaps wrenched with sudden pain as she struck the floor, but she hardly noticed.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," she said, uncalled tears welling in her eyes. She still knew how to cry? Even after all she'd seen, all she'd been through, she still remembered? "I'm so sorry," she said again, a sob clutching at her throat.
Evan turned, wiping hastily at his own eyes before stopping to stare at her in surprise. "Why?" he asked at last. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't even there."
"I'm sorry nobody was there for you. I'm sorry for what happened, in this time and in my own. I'm sorry we had to come here and lumber you with our problems. I'm sorry for all the pain, all the sadness, all the bad things in the world that I want to change, but can't. I'm ... I'm just so sorry." Something dripped off her nose and plopped onto the floor. Then another droplet of salty water followed.
Evan simply stared, open-mouthed. Then his expression crumpled, and despite his bandages he struggled upright enough that he could wrap his arms around her neck. It felt odd, like hugging his own mother, but not quite. She cried onto his shoulder, and she onto his, and for a split second they were closer than they'd ever been in any given timeline.
And they were glad of each other.
*
Forge and Jubilee sat in the kitchen, picking reluctantly at large amounts of food.
Dr. McCoy had discharged them as soon as he ascertained that the drugs in their systems had worked themselves out, and that they had received no other injuries. So they had moved poste haste towards the nearest source of food.
Thing was, though food had *sounded* good at first, when they actually got it in front of them they found they weren't that hungry.
"Perhaps that drug had some sort of side effect on our appetites," suggested Forge, chasing a lone bean around his plate.
Jubilee shook her head. "Nah, I think ... I think it's all this ... you know ... all this grief. Nicole's death and such."
"Don't see why; didn't even know her much."
"Yeah ... but ... you know, she rescued us. Gave her life for us, and that ain't improving my appetite at all."
There was silence between them again.
"It's weird," said Jubilee at last. "You know, Nicole being Kitty's daughter and all. Wonder what happens to our kids?"
Forge snorted. "I, for one, am not planning on having any of those."
"Why not?"
"Have you *seen* toddlers? Chaos and destruction embodied! I mean, I once let my little cousin come into my lab, and I lost five months' work in five minutes! No, no way am I having any little brats running around me!"
Jubilee snorted. "Well, I think it'd be nice. Looking after a little boy or girl, teaching them things, playing with them. Not too soon, of course, got other stuff to do first, but one day. Hey, do you think that, when we're older, and if you have kids, my kids and yours will play together?"
"Girl," said Forge with great amounts of certainty, "I am not letting any of my children *near* yours, not if they take after you. I mean, how many VCRs and DVDs have you broken this week?"
"Hey! It's not my fault my powers aren't techno-friendly!"
"Yeah, well, you just stay away from me, and I'll keep fixing your stuff, OK?"
"Ha! This coming from the boy who wanted to sleep with me just a few hours ago!"
"That was the drugs talking!"
The argument would have gotten a lot further at this point, had not both parties noticed that someone else had entered the kitchen.
It was Susan.
"Um, hello." Forge's voice travelled several levels from where it had been at arguing pitch.
The blonde girl framed in the doorway stared at him, open-mouthed. There was something strange in her gaze, some intensity that seemed to bore right down into his soul, and he found himself squirming under the scrutiny of her eyes. Blue eyes, like sapphires. Hard and glittering. The perfect Aryan, he thought with a shiver.
She shifted to look at Jubilee, something almost akin to recognition shifting in her expression, but dying away again with a shake of her head. Forge looked, but saw Jubilee was as baffled as he, and the two of them exchanged puzzled glances before looking back at the strange newcomer.
"Can we help you?" It was a Neo. Had to be. He knew all the X-Men, and wasn't too shoddy with the names of the Brotherhood either, but this was a new face entirely. Tabitha's child perhaps? The blonde hair was certainly reminiscent.
The girl simply stood there, ostensibly lost for words. When she did speak, her voice came out as a dry croak, like she'd been crossing a desert without a drink for a week.
"Dad?"
Forge blinked. Something slotted in his mind, and his jaw nearly thunked as it hit the tabletop. "Are you Susan?"
"Uh. Uh-huh." She nodded.
"Jubilee told me about you, but she never said ..." _She never said you were beautiful. Geez, I spawned *that*?_ He blinked. _Where the - well there's no blonde hair on my side of the family, of that much I'm certain._
"Jubilee?" Susan's face lit up, and she twisted about as if looking for someone. "She's here?"
"Actually, I'm right here. We met earlier, remember? Sorry I never got to introduce myself then." Jubilee stood up and held out a hand to shake.
Susan stared at it, then up at her face. "But you look so different ... of course, the surgery ... should've known ... I - oh God ..."
Jubilee's hand wavered. "Uh, is something wrong?"
"No. Something's very, very right." Susan sniffed, looking between the two of them. "Mom."
"I'm your *MOM*?! But you don't even look like me!"
"Uh ... freaky mutant gene," stammered Susan. For once she was at a loss for words. She could barely believe she was standing in front of her mom, her real mom!
"I'm a dad?" murmured Forge.
"Whoa!" gasped Jubilee. "Was I, you know ... a good mom?"
"I ... uh ... never really got to know you."
"I'm a dad."
Jubilee's face fell for a momment, but not for long. She wasn't the sort to let things get her down much.
"Well," she said, "I better start being a mom now ... er ... do you want me to do your hair? Make you something to eat?"
"I'm a dad!"
Susan shook her head, hardly believing what she was hearing. She wiped salty tears from her eyes.
"No thanks," she whispered. "It's OK ... I just ... so ..."
"I'M A DAD!!!"
Suddenly Susan found herself engulfed by one teenage Forge, who was hugging her like his life depended on it.
"I'm a dad! I'm a dad!" he sang.
"And he said he wasn't the fartherly type," sighed Jubilee, watching as Forge began to jump up and down in glee.
"I'm a dad!" Forge carolled. He grinned at Jubilee over Susan's head. "You're a mom! She's a -"
Forge's actual powers of logic were a half-second behind his disjointed exclamations.
His face crumpled from joy to shock. "Oh my God," he said. "Her. From you. By me."
Jubilee stared from one to the other. "Us? Ours? We?" she stammered.
Forge looked sharply at Susan. "How old are you?" he demanded.
"Eighteen."
"And you came back in time how many years?"
"Twenty-five."
Forge relaxed visibly, smiling weakly at Jubilee. "Okay. We have a whole seven years."
But the Asian girl's mind was elsewhere. "I'm *four*teen," she said.
Susan groaned, wiping a hand down her face. "That's it. As soon as this is over, I'm quitting time-traveling."
*
The church clock rang out its chords across the darkened town. The carillon gonged once.
Smash listened expectantly, then cursed himself as he realized no further chimes were coming from the mighty bells. How had he allowed himself to lose track of the time? He'd need a good story to cover his tardiness. And a flashy entrance. Flashy entrances were always good.
{BAMF}
*
Kurt sat with a child on either side of him. One was his own, the other apparently his owner. Jean was curled up on Margretha's other side, but had not said a word since her arrival.
"Hey hey," Pietro said, strolling into the room. "What's shaking?"
Kurt silenced him with a glare, inclining his head towards the sleeping David.
"Oh." The speedster plopped into an overstuffed recliner. _Hey Red, tell the fuzzbutt that - _
_*Don't* talk to me._ Jean's Death Look put Kurt's to shame.
Pietro unconsciously attempted to look small, not a difficult feat in the generous furnishing. He didn't think the others had any right to snap at him. He wasn't exactly having a wonderful day either.
At that moment (1:04 by the wall clock, which a number of mansion residents had accused at various times of being either fast, slow, or way off the mark), the glass front doors blew open as if pressed upon by a tremendous force.
A voice spoke from the darkness beyond.
"I have come for Edward Kelly."
*
The last note of the cheerful, life-is-wonderful-again song floated in crystal quality from the Cave's top-of-the-line sound system. Bobby pressed the stop and rewind buttons on the bulky remote.
"Aren't we going to see the end?" Scott asked as static blurred the screen.
"That was the end," replied the icy mutant.
"I know, I mean ... when I like a movie, I watch the credits."
Bobby stared, incredulous, at his superior. "You *what*?"
The older boy shifted in his green beanbag. "It seems respectful to read the names."
"I'm all for respect," Sam spoke up, "but that's just ... dumb."
"It's not like they'll *know*," Bobby said.
"My life could end at any moment, you know," Kelly interjected.
"So we've heard," Rogue said dryly.
*
Kurt was on his feet in an instant, somehow with minimal displacement of David, who had been mostly in his lap.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Smash said, stepping into the light. "Father."
"You are no son of mine," Kurt growled.
"Genetic testing would say otherwise," the time traveler smiled.
"Pietro," Kurt said tersely. "Go get your sister and the others."
"But -"
"Now!"
"I can't!"
"*Go*!" Kurt whirled and pushed Pietro bodily out the door.
Fear moved the speedster's feet, and he was halfway down the hall before his cerebral cortex remembered to function. He ran, panicked, through random corridors, hoping to meet someone friendly.
'Friendly' was not exactly how he would have described the look on Lance's face.
He grabbed the older boy's arm anyway. "I need a favor."
"I'm *not* in a generous mood," Lance glared down at him. "I just found out that Toad is gonna get some from Kitty and I'm not."
Pietro had to grin at the thought of the attractive young woman. "Frogboy's not the only one getting some future Pussy."
"WHAT??!"
*
"I'm going to die!" Kelly yelped as his chair skittered across the floor.
"It's just Lance having a mood swing," Rogue said, in the tone of voice one might use to report on the weather in Florida. "Someone put in another movie."
*
"You're not helping your case." Lance clenched his fists until the palms turned white.
"Listen," Pietro said, serious once more. "Wanda is only letting me live on condition that I never speak to her again. *Someone*'s gotta get her up here, or we're all dead."
"I might not mind that," Lance said tightly.
"We're changing the future, right? If this works, you'll probably get Kitty after all."
The seismic mutant pondered that. "Okay.
But hands off my girl, or *I'll* kill you."