True Believers: Part Eight
"This is a lovely place, don't you think?" Hana asked casually from where she crouched on the ground, fingering the leaves of a flowering bush. "So full of life. Such a temptation, I would think, to sit back in a place like this and let the world flow past, intervening only when you choose."
Askani raised an eyebrow. "That description hardly applies to the X-Men," she said sarcastically, disgusted at the sly calculation of Hana's words. Does she really think these debater's tricks will work on me? "Even if they once considered this place a sanctuary, it would be impossible to continue to believe that after Xavier's fall. And denouncing the X-Men for shutting themselves away from the world is more than mildly hypocritical, considering our lifestyle. After all, how many of our Sisters live out their lives within the walls of the Cloisters?"
"Oh, did you think I was criticizing the X-Men?" Hana asked, as wide-eyed as a child. Her pose of guileless innocence didn't deceive Askani for a moment. It was a guise, a strategem to put her off balance. Nothing more. "Please do forgive me. I certainly didn't mean to give you THAT impression, Shavrin."
"Stop calling me that!" Askani snapped, growing aggravated by Hana's subtle needling. "That is no longer my name. Your customs may be different, but have the courtesy to respect mine!"
Hana seemed unaffected by the rebuke. "Don't you find it at all demeaning?" she inquired. "The loss of individuality, that is. After all, for what do we fight but the privilege of living our lives? OUR lives, not a shadowy existence within a collective, submerging the essence of your self."
Askani gaped at her, horrified at Hana's blatant twisting of everything the Sisterhood stood for. "That is NOT true. We sacrifice such things so that others may--oath, why am I even arguing with you?" she snapped. "If you intend to continue spouting heresy, let me know so that I may leave!"
Hana tilted her head. "So quick-tempered," she murmured, a faint smile on her lips. "Far be it from me to question the decision of the Mother Askani, but a clear head will certainly be required for our mission."
"OUR mission?" Askani said disgustedly. Transparent as glass. First she tries to insult my intelligence, then she attempts to bait me. But both had been token attempts only, lacking the subtlety that Hana could undoubtedly have brought to bear. That troubled Askani. What did Hana truly want from her? "Which mission would that be? The one you will not share?"
Hana gave a martyred sigh. "Really, Shavrin, I'm only following the rules." Her smile grew. "Surely one such as you would know that," she continued almost teasingly. "Novice to the Mother Askani herself--the rules of our Order define your life, do they not? My own understanding may not be as profound, but I do know how to obey."
Hearing the mocking tone in Hana's voice, Askani scowled. "I doubt you truly have much concern for the Sisterhood's law," she said acidly, but felt uneasy as she remembered her own transgression with Nate Grey. But that was in the best interest of my mission--no, that is a poor excuse. I broke the law willingly, and I must admit that to myself. "In any case, keeping the letter of the law while violating its spirit is just as bad," she said decisively.
"Is that what you think I did?" Hana asked with a wide smile. As she had when Hana had first appeared, Askani tried to link to her through the collective consciousness, but the interference was too great. It has to be the time-lag. She tried a more conventional psi-link, but hit shields as smooth and cold as steel.
That was what galled her the most, she realized. As much as she'd like to deny it, Hana's psionic gifts were considerably greater than hers. She had seen that potential in the girl Hana had been, but to face that promise fully realized was unnerving, to say the least. Jean Grey herself could not be much Hana's better, and the greater sophistication of Askani training probably made Hana her equal. The Mother Askani tracked certain bloodlines carefully, and Hana's family had been one which had produced four other Sisters, all very talented.
"Something wrong, sister?" Hana asked blithely, her expression making it all too clear that she knew she was being assessed and wasn't particularly bothered by it.
"Nothing, sister," Askani snarled. Enough games, she decided grimly, and plunged onwards. "Unless you count your attempt to manipulate Dayspring and his father, of course."
Hana sighed, rising to her feet. "Is that the problem?" she asked almost wistfully. Her shields stayed up, but insanely, Askani got the impression that Hana wanted her to think well of her. As if my opinion of her actions mattered--but why? In any case, it was most inconsistent with her earlier behaviour--and her continued use of the personal name that Askani had put aside. Goading me one moment, half-deferring to me in the next. "Shavrin," Hana continued patiently, "it may have been distasteful, but it was neccessary."
"Neccessary?" Askani exploded, perilously close to losing her temper entirely. "How could it be neccessary to sow dissension between them? There is no reason! It is counterproductive!" And she knew precisely which of Dayspring's relationships to attack, Askani thought almost savagely. The one with his father--the most strained and the most vital.
"But it IS neccessary!" Hana said, sounding surprised. "Shavrin, surely you're aware of the dangers if Dayspring maintains this foolhardy attachment to his birth era!"
Askani remembered her question to Dayspring, about his choice to timelock himself here. But I would never try to destroy his allegiances--that would only weaken him. I just want him to draw what strength he needs from this time without allowing himself to be trapped by its narrow concerns. To be in the world, but not of it. A pretty justification, she told herself somewhat sourly. How did that differ from Hana's view, except in degree?
Hana raised an eyebrow. "You're deluding yourself," she said bluntly, and Askani hastily strengthened her shields. Hana's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "In your heart, you believe as I do."
"No," Askani muttered in distress. Had she really let that leak through her shields? "I--don't. Such methods, I cannot condone--"
"Shavrin, listen to me," Hana said very seriously. Despite her best efforts, Askani was drawn by the intensity in Hana's eyes, compelled to listen. "We of the Sisterhood are charged with protecting the timestream from Apocalypse. The timestream, Shavrin, not a single era. The good of the many outweighs the good of the few. Dayspring must fulfill his misison, or everything is lost." Hana's expression hardened. "And if I must force him back onto the path, I will. With or without your help."
Askani swallowed her rage. Hana's argument was, at heart, a sound one. But to risk a confrontation with Dayspring after the near-disaster with Blaquesmith? She could jeopardize everything--and the Mother Askani would not approve. Her eyes widened as her mind made a most unpleasant connection.
"Who sent you?" she demanded.
Hana sighed. "The Sisterhood, of course."
"Stab your eyes, Hana! That's not what I meant!" Askani snarled, more certain than ever that her instinct had been correct.
"I know what you meant." Hana's voice was suddenly silky, almost threatening. Marshaling her defenses, Askani took a wary step backwards, but Hana raised a placatory hand. "Please, Shavrin," she said soothingly. "I would sooner bury a knife in my own heart than harm you. You are my sister, my teacher--"
"Your TEACHER?" Askani gasped, and Hana suddenly winced, giving her a rueful smile. That would explain her attempt to sway me to her way of thinking, Askani realized. The mentor/student bond was a deep one among the Askani, respected and nurtured even after the novice became a full sister.
"Beautiful," Hana said ironically, shaking her head. "Could we just call that a slip of the tongue and forget about it?"
Askani shook her head. "I don't think so," she said softly, feeling her lips curl in a humorless smile. A slip of the tongue? I hardly think so. From what little I have seen of her she is not the type to have so little control over her words. "I must not have been much of a teacher," she said cuttingly. Hana actually bristled.
"No," she said with obvious disgust. "You were a very good teacher, Shavrin. As a matter of fact, I idolized you. You were everything I wanted to be. But I see now that you must have matured considerably in the time between now and the day you will take over my training. You were not nearly so naive when you were instructing me."
"Naive?"
"Yes, naive!" Hana snapped. "The situation is as grave as it has ever been, Shavrin, and yet you allow yourself to be hemmed in by rules and laws and strictures--what if those limitations compromise your mission? How will you live with yourself, knowing you COULD have done more?"
Askani stared back at her, suddenly stricken. Somehow Hana had seen right through her, to the fear she'd kept hidden since she'd encountered Wisdom and discovered that time had shifted beneath her feet before she'd even completed the passage back. This wasn't the situation she'd been prepared for. She couldn't pretend it was. Could she be right? Must I--redefine my mission in light of these new variables?
Hana's anger faded. "I don't mean to push," she said softly, leaning over and picking one bloom from the bush. She inhaled its scent deeply, and then, suddenly, crushed it. "But all of this will be ashes, soon, if we don't act. These are the first moves in the endgame, Shavrin. Dayspring must be guided." She smiled faintly. "After all, why are you here but to replace Blaquesmith for a time?"
"I will think on this," Askani offered awkwardly, not knowing what more to say. She still wanted to know the specifics of Hana's mission, but she would not get into a pitched psi-battle she knew she would lose. Looking satisfied, Hana dropped the crushed blossom to the ground. Askani knelt and picked it up, feeling a peculiar empathy for it. Alive and beautiful one moment, dead the next.
"Do that," Hana said briskly. She peered over Askani's head with a mocking smile. "I see the one called Bishop is still following us. He rather reminds me of a dog--faithful, dedicated, and none too bright."
Askani scowled up at her. "I said I will think on what you have said!" she snapped. "That does not mean I will sit here and listen to you malign the Mother Askani's family!"
Hana shrugged. "As you please," she said with a studied diffidence. Askani rose and turned to follow her gaze. Quite a distance away, Bishop was still unquestionably watching them. "He doesn't trust us," Hana murmured.
"Should he?" Askani said pointedly. "After all, our aims and those of the X-Men are fundamentally incompatible."
"You sound like that upsets you."
"It does! These are good people!"
"Shavrin," Hana said, cutting her off. Her expression was strangely wistful again. "Of course they're good people. That was never the issue."
***
Domino waited for a few minutes at the top of the stairs, just to make sure that Nathan wasn't following her. When he didn't appear, she nodded, satisfied, and strode down the hall until she reached Storm's door.
Listening in silence for a moment, Domino heard a drawer open and close, and various other rustling noises. She's getting packed, Domino thought darkly. Certainly wasting no time, are you, windrider?
Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly on the door. "Storm?" she called. "It's Domino. We need to talk."
The sounds from inside the room abruptly stopped, but Storm didn't answer. Domino waited a full ten seconds before she knocked again.
"Storm, I'm not leaving," she warned, trying to keep her voice level.
The door was flung open, and Storm stood there, glaring at her. "I have absolutely nothing to say to you, Domino!" she snapped.
Domino gave her a wintry smile. "Then why did you open the door?" Storm's blue eyes widened in indignation, and she made the mistake of trying to slam the door in Domino's face. With a growl, Domino flung an arm out to keep the door open. "Look, Ororo," she started, rapidly losing what was left of her patience with the woman.
"Get out!" Storm hissed, her eyes glowing eerily. A powerful wind suddenly flung Domino across the hall and into the opposite wall. The door slammed shut.
Swearing as she pulled herself back to her feet, Domino shook her head to clear her vision. I do NOT believe this! she thought, outraged. Her left shoulder was throbbing from when she'd hit the wall, but she knew grimly that her mutant ability had probably saved her from worse injury. Storm hadn't been holding anything back; that had been pretty close to a gale-force wind, from the feel of it.
A surge of panic suddenly came down the psi-link. #Dom?# Nathan asked worriedly. # What happened? Are you all right?#
She winced, carefully putting the image of what had just happened into the most private part of her mind and locking it away. After what had happened by the lake, she'd drawn back from the psi-link as much as she could, and when she'd come up here to face Storm, she'd deliberately shielded her end of the link, using the method Nathan had taught her when they'd first realized the psi-link was becoming a permanent thing. She did not want him in the middle of this, especially if things got out of hand--as they seemed to be doing. With his own shields so weak, he was too suspectible to any kind of backlash from the link.
I'm fine, Nathan, she sent back as gently as she could manage. Don't come up here. Storm and I can settle things perfectly well without your help. She cursed herself for the less-than-comforting choice of words as she felt his anxiety mount.
#But--#
I mean it, Nathan, she warned, and resolutely shut him out. She only prayed he listened to her, and stayed out of this. In his condition, even more stress was the last thing he needed. Besides, she and Storm WERE going to settle this. Right now.
One kick, and the door was no longer a factor. She stalked into Storm's room, smiling grimly at the shock on Ororo's face.
"How dare you--"
"What, violate your personal space?" She kept walking right up to Storm, and slugged her. Storm went down in an untidy heap, stunned. "Oops, I just did it again. Clumsy me." Damn, that felt good.
Not suprisingly--Domino knew she was an excellent hand-to-hand fighter--Storm recovered quickly, rising to her feet. Pure fury twisted her features, and her eyes were glowing again. The wind was picking up outside, responding to her emotions, and Domino raised an eyebrow as she heard the distant rumble of thunder. Inside the room, a terrifying amount of power was building in the air, but Domino ignored it, meeting Storm's angry gaze calmly. Your move, Ororo, she thought.
"How dare you?" Storm snarled.
"You said that already," Domino pointed out dryly, knowing she really shouldn't be tweaking Storm but unable to resist. "Can't you come up with anything more original?"
Storm visibly fought for control. "Leave!" she snapped imperiously, as if she expected to be obeyed instantly. "Now! Or I will not be responsible for the consequences!"
Domino fought back a shudder of loathing. So typical, she thought in disgust. "Stop deluding yourself, Ororo," she said contemptuously. "You want to impale me with a lightning bolt, fine. Do it!" It came out a little more challenging than she intended. "But don't you dare pretend you'll be able to avoid responsibility for that choice!"
The shimmer in Ororo's eyes faded slightly. "I do not require a lecture on ethics and morality from a mercenary!" she said hotly.
"That's good, windrider, because that's not why I'm here." Quite deliberately--she had to know how far Storm was willing to go--Domino turned her back on the other woman and strode over to the window.
Standing out in the backyard, staring up at the window almost desperately, was Nathan. Domino rolled her eyes. That is the most pathetic thing I've ever seen, she thought, half-annoyed, half-amused. At least he wasn't making any attempt to reach her through the link. She hoped he wouldn't try and get into Storm's head, either. Surely he had more sense than that. I hope. She made a face at him and then turned back to Storm.
"Then why are you here?" Storm asked harshly, a sarcastic edge to her voice. "Or do I wish to know?"
"Drop the attitude, Munroe," Domino said in a tone of honest warning. "I have a lot to say to you, so make it easy on both of us and keep your mouth shut until I'm done. Or I swear, I'll shut it for you."
"Idle threats, now?" Storm asked, incredulity mixing with the anger in her voice. Her hands were glowing with energy, power that needed only a momentary focusing of Storm's will to become a lightning bolt. "Shall we try and see how successful you are in 'shutting my mouth' for me, Domino?" she asked harshly.
Domino raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. "If you think you can hit me on the first try, go right ahead," she invited. "Otherwise, I wouldn't if I were you. The half-second or so you'd need to throw another one would be more time than I need."
Storm glared at her for a moment, and then the glow around her hands faded. The charged silence remained, however, as Storm went over to the bed, zipping up the small bag lying there. Her attempt to regain her usual dignity was transparent, but Domino didn't call her on it. Truthfully, this would be much easier if she wasn't dodging lightning bolts.
"So you wish to talk," Storm asked snippily. "About what? If it is the mission, I have nothing to say. My reasons for coming are my own, and none of your business."
"I don't give a flying rat's ass for your reasons, Storm!" Domino snapped. "Even if you do turn out to be useful to the mission, I still think Nate and Wisdom are being a little too tolerant, letting you come along." Storm would be nothing but trouble, and not just when it came to Nathan and Pete. She's too used to being in command, Domino thought analytically. That was a weakness like any other.
"Might we get to the point, then?" Storm inquired nastily. "I believe you have made your feelings towards me quite clear." Rubbing her jaw gingerly, she gave Domino a baleful look.
"And you haven't?" She would really like to know where Storm's feelings towards her really came from. Was it hurt pride, or something deeper? "I must really get under your skin, Ororo, for you to forget all your high-and-mighty principles about the proper use of your powers." Storm gave her an affronted look. Domino would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious. "But you're right. We're straying from the subject at hand. Namely, the conditions under which I'M letting you come."
"YOUR conditions?" Storm demanded.
"Amazing," Domino said coldly. "You do listen." Storm started to object, but Domino cut her off mercilessly. "Before you spout off about how I have no right to be giving you an ultimatum, let me say that your opinion matters less than shit to me." Storm's nostrils flared, presumably in disgust at the profanity, and Domino shook her head. "I'll be blunt. Nathan is mission leader, and you will follow his orders as if they came from God Himself. Leader of the Gold Team or not, once we get on that plane, you have absolutely no authority. This is NOT an X-Men mission, Storm. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you start unpacking now. No? Good. Furthermore, if you have a concern, a question, or just generally want to bitch during the course of our trip, you come to me. Not Nathan. Because if you prove to be a distraction on this mission, I will remove you."
"And you believe I am arrogant?" Storm spat.
Domino gritted her teeth. "Fine," she grated, fed up with it all. "Maybe I am arrogant--maybe I'm underestimating you. But you'd better not underestimate what I'm willing to do to protect Nathan, Storm." Storm bristled, anger flaring in her eyes again as if it had been stirred by Domino's mention of her and Nathan's relationship. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did to him before he went to Alaska. If you try anything like that again--" Domino swallowed, telling herself to calm down. "He is not well, Ororo," she said in a softer but no less resolute voice. "And I am not going to let anyone add to his problems. Especially you. If I have to spend the entire trip running interference, I will."
"So altruistic," Storm hissed.
"No, not altruistic," Domino growled. "Practical. I see a threat, I respond to it." Feeling suddenly reckless, she gave Storm a hard, scornful smile. "I never liked you, Ororo. I USED to respect you, until you proved just how juvenile you are beneath that so-elegant exterior."
"Juvenile!" Storm almost shrieked, and Domino dove just in time to avoid a middling-sized lightning bolt, punctuated by thunder from outside. It smashed into the wall, leaving an impressive scorch mark.
Domino rolled quickly to her feet and lunged at the other woman, knowing she had to act quickly. She took only two quick steps before she bounced off a telekinetic shield.
Ororo suddenly gasped. Regaining her balance, Domino glanced at her swiftly, not understanding the horrified look on her face.
"My POWERS!" she cried, and gave Domino an angry look. "What did you DO?"
Nathan popped out of nowhere with a flash of golden light. "Actually, that would have been me," he said. The look on his face was expressionless, but the calm was not mirrored in his eyes. He looked as if he was holding himself up by sheer force of will. Domino cursed sulphurously under her breath.
"Nathan, I told you to stay out of here!" she barked.
He raised an eyebrow. "Far be it from me to call you hypocritical, Dom," he said wearily, "but you'd have my balls for breakfast if I tried to order you around. Besides, I'm sick and tired of letting you or Jean or Logan deal with this."
"Oh, so you are finally willing to take responsibility for your own actions, Nathan?" Storm snapped, folding her arms across her chest. She looked edgy, and Domino abruptly remembered reading in the files that Storm had lost her powers for a considerable amount of time. Domino scowled, not liking the pang of sympathy she felt for the other woman in light of her own recent experience with the Sentinel Gryaznova.
Nathan's cold mask was gone. Seeing the contrition, the real distress on his face, Domino suddenly wanted to shake some sense into him, to scream at him that he hadn't done anything wrong. That he didn't owe Storm any apologies. But more than anything else, she wanted him OUT of this room, before Storm's little tantrum buckled his shields.
"Ororo," he said in a strained voice. Domino shuddered at the level of pain and exhaustion she was sensing through the psi-link. "I'm sorry. I can see I've hurt you somehow, and I never wanted to do that. I don't know what I did, but I'm so sorry--"
"Stab your eyes," Storm breathed.
Domino's jaw nearly hit the floor. EXCUSE ME? That was an Askani expression, and Ororo wasn't Logan, with a hobby of picking up new profanities here and there. Nathan was staring down at Ororo, looking utterly baffled, but she just seemed to grow angrier.
"You wish to know why?" she snarled. She took a step towards him, and said one word in Askani.
Nathan went as white as a ghost. The shock that came crashing down their psi-link nearly knocked Domino over. It was more intense than anything she'd felt through the link since the day Nathan had formed it.
But her own disbelief was nearly a match for his. She didn't know how to speak Askani, but she knew that word. She'd heard it before. And to hear it now, from Storm, was impossible. This makes no sense at all. What the HELL is going on?
Trembling, Nathan stepped towards Storm, his eyes narrowing in concentration for a moment. Domino realized he was scanning her--and she wasn't objecting, either. She met his eyes with a sort of hurt defiance, her chin raised proudly.
In the next instant, Nathan's eyes went wider than she'd ever seen them before. Through their link, she felt erratic flashes of guilt, sorrow--and understanding.
"Oh, shit," he said weakly, and promptly passed out.
***
Of all the sights to wake up to, Hank McCoy's face was not the most comforting, Nathan thought blearily, blinking to try and clear his vision. His head was splitting, his shields were in tatters, and he felt as cold as he had been out in the blizzard in Alaska. Colder, even; it felt like there was a core of ice inside him that no warmth could ever touch.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend," Hank said, too brightly. "Try not to move too quickly. You have a mild concussion--you hit your head when you fell. I'll get Dana in here in a few minutes to see to it." Nathan blinked up at him, slowly registering that they were in the medlab. And from the extent of the background noise, they weren't the only ones here.
He tried to sit up, but the room spun around him and he fell back with a groan. How did I get-- The memories came crashing back, and he groaned again, this time in despair.
"My fault," he muttered in shame. "I didn't know--"
"I know, Nathan," he suddenly heard Ororo said in a gentle voice. He turned his head slowly, and saw her and Domino standing a few feet away. They were obviously keeping their distance from each other, but both were looking a great deal calmer than they had back in Ororo's room. And they didn't seem to be angry with him, which surprised him just a bit. They knew, and they weren't ready to kill him? Will wonders never cease.
"I always thought there had to be something more behind all of this," Domino said with a quick, rueful look sideways at Storm. "When I was thinking clearly, I mean," she added almost grudgingly.
Storm gave a soft laugh that sounded somewhat strained. She looked flushed, uncomfortable. Thinking back on it, Nathan couldn't remember ever having seen Storm fidget before. But she was doing it now. "Please, Domino, do not apologize. I was the one who was not thinking clearly."
"But it wasn't your fault--"
"Nevertheless, I behaved atrociously." The two of them studied each other uneasily for a moment, and Nathan got the insane impression of two strange cats who'd gotten over the initial round of fighting and were trying to decide whether they were going to suffer each other's existence or not. Domino finally nodded, accepting Storm's tacit apology, and Storm took a deep breath, her usual composure settling over her like a cloak.
Nathan closed his eyes, unable to look at either one of them. I did this, he thought bleakly, ignoring the small voice that told him scathingly not to be so stupid. I set them on each other. Closing his eyes didn't help, though, because the images floated out of the darkness, the memories no longer hazy but as clear as day, somehow triggered by what he'd seen in Storm's mind.
Fighting with Post, the shock of recognizing Onslaught's herald as Tremain, the man whose life he'd saved so many years ago. Lying half-conscious and battered on the Baltimore docks, not understanding why Post had spared him, trying desperately to reach the X-Men telepathically as Onslaught's laughter echoed in his mind. Sensing the Hulk approaching, that lop-sided fight, trying to reach the persona of Bruce Banner trapped within the monster's body--the building the Hulk had casually thrown at him coming down out of the sky, a great dark mass that blotted out the sun and crushed him.
Then only a red-tinged darkness, until he had sensed someone there with him, shouting at him, pleading with him to live. The faintly musical accent of the voice, the disciplined calm of the thoughts--the blazing, unbending determination. All so familiar. Somewhere in his pain-fogged mind, a connection had been made. Only right, he had thought, that she would come to him at the moment of his death. Despite the horror of knowing who Onslaught was, the fear he felt for Scott and Jean and Domino and X-Force, part of him had been so glad, felt nothing but joy at the thought of being with her again. And he had started to reach out to her, at the precise moment that electricity had jolted through his body and restarted his heart.
Reached out to Storm, through the remnants of the long-broken psi-link he had shared with Aliya. The link hadn't re-formed, of course; Storm wasn't Aliya, and he had been too weak for such a complex process. But in that split-second of contact as their powers intersected, something had passed from him to Storm. Echoes of memories, from the part of him that had been part of Aliya, his legacy from their link. As a non-psi, Storm couldn't have accessed those memories consciously, but they'd been imprinted onto her mind. Stray fragments, like the oath she'd used, would inevitably surface. And the emotions, of course. Like a sense of betrayal at the idea that the man who had promised to love her 'forever'--the word in Askani that Storm had spoken--in their wedding vow was with another woman.
Aliya would have reacted in exactly the same way. Actually, no--she probably would have castrated me first, he thought with a sort of desperate humor. And Storm IS like her. I always saw that, even if I didn't admit it to myself until Mikhail kidnapped her and I thought she was dead.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and felt Storm take his hand.
"I know," she said softly. "You need not be, Nathan." He opened his eyes and looked up at her, realizing that she was perfectly serious. Even though he had invaded her mind, left her with emotions and motivations that weren't her own, she didn't hate him for it. "You were badly hurt--you could not have known what you were doing. And I would not have done anything different that day, even if I had known. Believe me when I say that." She gave his hand one last squeeze and then released it, an unreadable look in her eyes.
"This actually makes sense, now," Domino said in a curiously brittle voice, coming up beside Storm. "Do you remember that night in the Baxter Building, Storm? How you didn't want us to take Nate back to Scott and Jean, even when Richards told us he was dying?"
Storm looked thoughtful. "Indeed," she said, her eyes suddenly distant. "I remember feeling--it is difficult to put into words," she concluded quietly.
"Let's not, then," Nathan heard Jean say crisply. She stood beside Hank on the other side of the bed, her expression just this side of pissed. She sighed, growling something under her breath. "And no, I'm not scanning you," she said. "You're projecting so loudly that Emma's probably hearing you in Massachussetts."
"Sorry," he said meekly. She scowled.
"Don't DO that," she said sternly. "It didn't work when you were five and cute, so it's sure as hell not going to work now. Besides, I'm not angry with you over this particular mess. I scanned you, and it was easy enough to--remove the foreign memory engrams from Storm's mind, once I understood what had happened." Her gaze was level, unwavering--maybe a little TOO much so.
Nathan frowned. She's--there's something-- But from the feel of his head, if he tried to reach out telepathically beyond the end of his nose, he was going to regret it. Just my imagination, he thought uneasily. Getting so paranoid, I'm seeing secrets everywhere. He closed his eyes for a moment, firmly telling the headache to go away. Amazing, it faded to a more manageable level. Mind over matter, he told himself hazily, opening his eyes again.
He sat up, more slowly this time, ignoring Hank's protests. The room wasn't as crowded as he'd thought. Of course, he thought muzzily. My shields are in ruins--Jean would have seen that, and made sure there wasn't a crowd in here. Cecilia was sitting over at the monitoring station, absorbed by whatever was on her terminals. Scott stood just behind Jean, looking worried and oddly dispirited. Pete was watching Hana and Shavrin with a look of open distrust. The two Askani stood in the corner of the room, staring at Nathan without blinking. He flushed, trying to ignore them.
"So what are you angry with me for, then?" he asked Jean wearily, noticing with some surprise that he was hooked up to the psi-monitor again.
"Not angry, precisely," she said in a peculiarly gentle voice. "Worried might be more accurate. As Domino told me," she shot a faintly ironic look at Domino, who was scowling, "you don't tend to keel over for no good reason." She was silent for a moment. "It wasn't another temporal wave, was it?"
He sighed. "No," he admitted. It hadn't really been a question; she knew the answer already, he could tell. "I'm not really sure what happened. But I've got to say that this falling on my face shit's getting old fast."
The joke fell rather flat. Nathan frowned, bothered by the stiffness of everyone's expressions. "Hank, you're being too quiet," he finally said, settling on McCoy as the one most likely to give him more details.
The Beast regarded him measuringly for a moment. "As your doctor," he finally said, "I must suggest in the strongest possible terms that you refrain from going on this mission." He gave Nathan a faint smile. "In other words, if I had the audacity to believe I could chain you to your bed and get away with it, I would."
"WHAT?" Nathan exclaimed. "Why?" His headache started to get worse again--you're not concentrating! he told himself fiercely. It was just like the T-O virus. He just needed to concentrate.
"Because, my time-tripping, techno-organic friend, you are about two steps away from a relapse." Hank's tone was deadly serious. With an indrawn breath, Nathan glanced at Jean for confirmation. She nodded. Hank continued, in a professional voice. "The body of research on this subject is regrettably limited, but it is quite clear that a recurrence of such a severe psychic trauma would cause permanent damage. You need to remain here, where we can monitor you." Nathan started to object, but Hank cut him off, continuing briskly. "Nathan, I don't think you understand how serious your condition is. You're already suffering from the same kind of psionically-induced fever that afflicted you after Alberta. The slightest use of your powers could potentially send you right back into psionic shock."
Nathan scowled. "Unlike the rest of you, I had virtually no access to my powers for most of my adult life. I fought without them before, I can do it again!" Reaching out and disconnecting himself from the psi-monitor, he swung his feet over the edge of the biobed and stood up. He realized it was a stupid move an instant later, as the room started to spin around him again. Hank reached out and steadied him before he could fall.
"Nathan, be reasonable," McCoy started.
"Wrong approach, doc," Pete said dryly, giving Hana and Shavrin a warning look before he came over to the biobed. Nathan glared at the younger man, who stared right back at him, impudent as ever. "Nate here's not known for being reasonable when he's got his mind sent on something. Firm believer in the 'full speed ahead, damn the torpedoes' approach." He suddenly grinned. "Should I let them in on Dunworthy's pit bull analogy?"
Nathan gave him a baleful look. "Save it, Wisdom. If I have to go by myself, I will." He felt a stab of fear from Domino's end of the psi-link, and turned slowly to face her, holding onto the edge of her bed for support.
"You so much as try it," she hissed, her violet eyes blazing, "and I swear, I'll--"
"I said I would if I had to," he broke in. He tried to strengthen his shields, but nothing was working. Breathing was oddly difficult. His vision was blurring again, and he still felt terribly cold. "I'd prefer to have some company, quite frankly--"
"Nathan!" Jean snapped, her face pale with anger and fear. "If you keep on like this, you're going to kill yourself!" She shot Hana and Shavrin a scathing look. "Whatever your plans are," she spat, her voice full of biting contempt, "surely letting him commit suicide isn't part of them!"
Hana glared back at her, but it was Shavrin who answered. "This is the task of the Askani'son," she said quietly, with a distinctly apologetic note in her voice. "If there was any other way--"
"Damn it," Jean raved. "You're not going to HAVE an Askani'son to manipulate if you force him to do this!"
Nathan's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Wait just a minute!" he snapped, anger lending him a brief strength. Jean's head whipped around, and he gave her a penetrating look, trying to decipher why she was acting like this. "No one's manipulating me, here," he said more quietly, trying to reassure her. "But I have to do this, Jean--"
"Nathan," she said forcefully, her eyes suddenly holding his so intently that he couldn't look away. "Stay here. Or go back to Alaska--which is actually a better idea, now that I think of it. But let the X-Men take care of this. Trust us, please. I promise, we won't let you down."
Scott cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "I've ordered the Blackbird prepped," he said. "Bishop, Logan, Rogue, Joseph and Bobby are on standby. If you tell us how to get in touch with your contact, we can--"
"No!" Nathan growled. "How many different ways do I have to say this!" He pushed away from the bed, swaying on his feet but fully determined to leave the room. Suddenly, he couldn't take another step. "I don't believe this!" he snarled, turning his head to look at Jean. "You're not seriously going to try and FORCE me to stay?"
"No, she's not!" Domino said quickly, and gave Jean an urgent look. "Are you?" Nathan gritted his teeth at what he sensed through the psi-link. She wanted him to stay just as much as Jean did--she was only stepping in because she was worried that he'd use his powers to free himself. Flonq it all, I am not twelve years old anymore! Why is it than all the women in my life still treat me as if I were?
Jean cursed, and suddenly he was free to move again. "If you're so determined to get yourself killed, there's not much I can do to stop you," she said bitterly, green eyes shining with what Nathan was uncomfortably sure were tears. She glanced up at Scott. "You talk to him," she flared. "You're his father--maybe he'll listen to you!" Though she was speaking to Scott, the accusation in her voice was leveled entirely at Nathan, and he nearly despised her at that moment, for resorting to this kind of emotional blackmail.
"I don't want to hear any of this," Nathan said tautly before Scott could say anything. "I don't have a choice, don't any of you understand that?"
"Actually," Scott said in a very old voice, his face almost gray. "I think we do." Nathan realized his father wasn't looking at him. He was staring past him.
Right at Hana and Shavrin.
to be continued...
[FOOTER]