Chapter Eighteen â“ Final Chapter
It felt really weird for a while. No Jean (which we were kind of used to, given that it had been over six weeks without her), and now no Cyclops, Storm, or Wolverine. For the first day or so it didnât quite feel like X-men at all. But hey, we still had the Professor, we had Hank, we had Rogue and Gambit and enough others that we got used to it.
One good thing came out of the departures. Aurora had not had a room to herself before. For the past four nights she had slept in the barracks where Moonstar and Marrow were housed. It was a huge room, and a few screens had been put up to give privacy. But thereâs a lot to be said for having a door that closes as well as your own bathroom, instead of one down the hall. And I can only imagine that the arrangement wasnât so great for Marrow and Moonstar either, even though their bed was on the other end of the room. But Aurora had been threatening to move to Magnetoâs ship, where there were empty personnel quarters, and saying that her brother should go with her. Fortunately, once Wolverine and Cyclopsâs shuttles departed, Aurora moved right into Wolverine and Stormâs old room. She told us there were large gashes in one of the walls, obviously the work of adamantium claws combined with despair and frustration. Poor Wolverine.
Marrow and Moonstar were asked if they wanted to move into Cyclopsâs room, but they declined the offer saying they liked the large barracks. To each their own, I guess. The barracks did at least have several cool paintings that Colossus had made to brighten the place up.
But enough of the personal stuff. The Professor got right to work on entering the minds of FOH leaders. The door to shuttle bay had barely closed before he went off to his room, saying that he could conduct this work best if he was alone.
The day after Cyclops and the others left, I sat in bed next to Jean Paul. It was morning on board the ship, and I had gone to the mess hall to fetch breakfast for us. We ate it together in our room. I was really glad that both of us agreed that we wanted to spend some time together, just the two of us. We sat on the bed, more or less draped over each other. He was paying more attention to me than the food, which was definitely cool considering how much he liked to eat. Having been separated for so long, we were back in the canât-get-enough-of-each-other phase.
âSo whatâs the deal with Angel?â I asked. âDid he really sleep with your sister on the way to earth? Puck told meâ.
âYes, he did. And I could punch the bastard for taking advantage of a mentally ill woman like that,â he said, sounding more disgusted than angry. âBut she would not be stopped. I am sure she hoped it would make Walter jealousâ.
âI take it that it didnât?â
Jean Paul sighed. âI hope the fact that he is on his way back to Haven, light-years away from her, will wake her up. Maybe it will start to sink in, as they say. I believe Walter is completely done with her. During our trip back to earth, someone told me that he said he doesnât care if he has to remain celibate the rest of his life, he is finished with herâ.
âSoâŠhow is she doing?â I paused and added, âI have a hard time reading where sheâs at. Some days she seems fine, other days notâ.
âI think overall â“ sheâs doing badly. Her arm is better but mentally she is not any better. Being on the run for all those days and then captured by FOH didnât help, even though we were rescued before they could torture us. The days where she appears to be doing well, I think they are just a maskâ.
âWow, that sucks. Do you think she could work with the Professor? He is an expert in this areaâ.
As he spoke, Jean Paul leisurely stroked my arm. âHeâs so busy though. I have hardly seen the man since I returned, and especially not since the Professor began his telepathic work. And I do not think you can help someone who does not want to be helped. In all these years, my sister has never liked the idea of seeing a professional for assistanceâ. He shook his head. âIt didnât help, the fact that everyone around her was in denial. I kept telling myself that she would just get better. And when she and Walter started getting serious, I know that I hoped deep down that he would take responsibility for her and make her get some treatment. It was selfish of me, but I felt that I needed a break from her. Sometime it feels that caring for her is like caring for a childâ.
âMaybe it is, in a wayâ.
âPerhaps,â he said slowly, now sounding very far away. âYes. Maybe it isâ.
âWhat is it?â I asked gently, guessing that there was something behind his tone, which sounded lost in thought.
âJust thatâŠjust that when I think of Aurora, I wonder what kind of parent I would have made. If Joanne had lived, maybe I would not have been such a good father since I cannot even take good care of my sister. For years I have had the idea in the back of my mind that I would adopt a child again someday, but now I wonder if I could really do itâ.
I heard Jean Paul say the words but, looking back now, I donât think I really digested them. I didnât want to be a father myself, and despite everything Jean Paul had told me, I somehow never thought that he would actually talk seriously about adopting a child again. So I murmured some platitudes to him, telling him that of course he would have been a wonderful father to Joanne.
We were silent for a while, just holding each other. I loved the way he would sometimes stop what he was doing to kiss my shoulder or wrap his arms around me.
âIâm so glad youâre back here. I was so worried when you were gone. I canât believe how lucky I am to have you back, and Iâm happier than ever,â I said. And then I said the words that I had wanted to say for days. Iâd been avoiding saying them because they sounded so mushy, but I couldnât help it now. âIt feels so amazing, being with you. None of the other guys I was with were ever like you â“ affectionate, tenderâ. I was really worried that my words were too corny, so I just kissed him.
âThank you, mon ame,â he whispered. âI am so glad to be with youâ.
***
Several of FOHâs members were confused. They knew that just a few days ago, the X-men had broken into their headquarters and engaged their troops. The mutant rebels made a tape and got it on the air a few times. Although they liked how quickly FOH responded, a lot of FOHâs members were confused at the freeze at the Extermination Camps. The orders from FOHâs top leaders were still to wait; no mutants were to be rounded up for transportation to the camps yet.
This order to wait seemed odd, especially given the fact that public opinion was on FOHâs side. It made no sense. But FOHâs top leaders were unapproachable and unaccountable to all but a few. It didnât look like FOHâs rank and file members would be getting answers any time soon. They could just wait and hope, and pray that FOH wouldnât find them unnecessary and begin a rumored round of layoffs. Many had joined simply because they needed a job.
***
Hank knocked on the door to the Professorâs room. As he held the tray of food, he was prepared to wait as long as necessary, suspecting that due to the type of work Xavier was engaged in, he might not be aware that someone was at the door. He expected to wait and knock again, but was surprised when Xavierâs voice told him to enter.
âI brought you a meal,â Hank said, stepping into the darkened room. âMany of us were concerned when we did not see you at lunch or dinner. We should arrange to bring you your meals regularly while you do this work â“ though as your doctor I would also suggest that regular breaks might be beneficial to you. Of course I am no expert on psychic powers, but based upon what I can surmise, this is what I recommendâ.
Hank stopped, concerned that he might have been rambling. He looked at Xavier. The older man seemed to have absorbed his words on one level. But on another level, he looked ghastly. Hank struggled to find the words to describe it. Xavier looked drained, deflated, even a bit otherworldly.
When Hank left the Professorâs room, he walked swiftly to the bridge. He brought up subspace and urgently patched in to the Prevail.
***
Another knock sounded on Xavierâs door. Fleetingly, the Professor wondered who it was. His mind was exhausted at this point, so he was not about to use his telepathic powers to discern the identity of his visitor. The knock sounded strong and sure.
âCome inâ.
He was surprised to see Moira MacTaggert standing before him. The firm knock hadnât sounded like her. The determined look on Moiraâs face, with her jaw set firmly, was also new; Xavier had not seen her looking robust for too long to remember now.
âCharles, I am worried about you,â Moira began, crossing the room and walking directly to Xavier. âI am here to do something to help you. You are one of the worldâs most powerful mutants, so maybe you are thinking there is nothing I can do for you, but I am here to do something. I will either make sure you had something to eat or give you a bath or give you a massage but I will help you somehow and you wilna stop meâ.
Xavier listened to her words, allowing them to penetrate his mental fog. His head hurt so much, his mind exhausted from the constant work. No one currently aboard the ship, not even Psylocke, could truly understand how much this mission entailed. Charles entered minds one at a time, unraveling the knot of hatred, peeling the layers, trying to coax and enlighten rather than command. He had to plant suggestions and ideas rather than directives. He had to proceed slowly because he wanted each leader to come to the conclusion himself rather than have the right answer forced upon him. There were so many leaders, so many minds, so much irrational fear and hatred of mutants, so many who truly believed FOHâs propaganda. It was grueling work.
And Xavier was tired of being in charge of it all, and even more shocked by this glimpse of a Moira from long ago.
âI suppose you are right,â he said. âDo what you willâ.
âVery well then,â Moira said, rolling up her sleeves and moving herself directly against the wheelchair. âWe will start with a massage,â she decided.
She placed her hands on his head. It was as smooth as she remembered, but very, very warm. âAre you too hot, Charles? Do you want me to lower the temperature in here?â
âNo. No, that wonât be necessaryâ.
Moira began to gently massage his temples. She took her time, and her touch was light and gentle. She wasnât sure if he would want a firmer touch. It had been so long since they had been together, and she couldnât remember ever touching him quite this way. Moira moved her hands lower to massage Charlesâ neck and shoulders.
As her hands worked, she asked, âWhenâs the last time you had something to eat?â
âI ate some of what Hank brought meâ.
âAh, I see the tray. And before that? Dare I even ask?â
âIâm not certain when the last time before then wasâ.
âAre you hungry now?â
âNot particularlyâ. And then, because Charlesâ defenses were completely gone, he added, âDonât stopâ.
âI wilna,â Moira promised. She continued to work his neck, shoulders, and occasionally move her hands back up to rub his temples again.
âWhat about the rest of you?â Moira asked, after several minutes. âOf course we would need to get you out of this chairâ.
This break was exactly what Xavier needed. He was starting to feel a bit more like himself though he still wasnât quite as in control as usual. After taking control of so many othersâ minds, he had to relinquish some control now.
âWhatever you feel is bestâ.
âLetâs get you to the bed so we can continue massaging you,â she said, gesturing towards the bed.
Xavier moved his chair astride the bed. He used the rails combined with his telekinesis to maneuver himself onto the bed.
âExcellent. Can I get you out of some of these clothes? I think I could do a better job with the massage â“ I want to massage your hands and arms and that would be easier without the suit jacket. You are always so formal, Charles. You and your suitsâ.
âYou have always dressed formally too,â he observed.
âI suppose that is the case,â she said, as she began unbuttoning his jacket. âThis is alright with you, yes?â
âYes,â he said. He let Moira remove the clothing from the upper half of his body.
She resumed her work, massaging his arms and hands, and then later rubbing more of his back. Moira continued to work slowly and rhythmically.
âDo you not take breaks, Charles? Donât you think regular breaks would help you?â she asked.
âIt is such intense work,â he said.
âAll the more reason to take breaks. Is that not the advice you yourself would give to one of your students?â
âI suppose it is. It is just that once I stop, it is harder to start againâ.
âAh, I see. I wish I could fully understand you and your powers. It is so strange for me. All of the people I have loved the most in this life have been mutants. Yet I am not one myself. I dona know exactly what it is like to have a special power, though I have studied the subject enough to have an idea. I suppose I will never have first-hand knowledge thoughâ.
âYou understand us better than any non-mutant. You have done more than any to build bridgesâ.
âDonât be silly, Charles. You have done more than anyone else. You have such great power and you have always used it for goodâ. Moiraâs hands were massaging each of Charlesâ fingers separately.
âUnfortunately, that is not the case. I cannot consider what I am doing now to be remotely good. Rather, it is the lesser of two evilsâ.
âI canna agree with that. You are saving mutant lives. If your work can prevent just one mutant from suffering the hell that my family went through, thenâŠ.â Moira stopped her words, though she continued the work of her hands, not letting up. But she didnât want to break down in front of Xavier, not when her goal was to comfort him.
âMoira,â he began, tenderly. âI â“ â he broke off his sentence as well. With his defenses down, he was having trouble observing the appropriate mental boundaries. He had a flash of insight regarding Moira and he knew not whether it was the result of logic and intuition or whether he had accidentally entered her mind.
But he decided to share it with her. âYou and I both feel guilty,â he observed. âYou, because you could not prevent what happened to your family â“ no matter how illogical that feeling of guilt in your case may be. I feel guilty for entering so many minds unbiddenâ.
âWell, it is good that we have that in common,â Moira said. She had gotten a hold of her emotions and her voice only quavered slightly.
She wanted to add that she had another reason for feeling guilty. She was here with her first fiancĂ©, feeling intense emotions for him and longing desperately for his comfort â“ while her beloved husband was not dead seven months yet. Moira had loved Banshee deeply. Of course she had loved Xavier before and never ceased loving him, but the words âmorally reprehensibleâ sprang into her mind to describe her feelings.
But no, Moira told herself. She reminded herself of words she had once told a student. Feelings are feeling, and one should not feel guilty for an emotion. It is our actions that we must be judged against.
âThat is correct, Moira. You have no reason to feel guilty,â Charles said.
âWhy, Charles. Did you not just read my mind?â
âDid I?â Xavier asked, alarmed. âI â“ I, for some reason I thought you had spoken aloudâ.
âYou are so tense now,â Moira said, as she stroked his shoulders. âDona worry. You are tired now and I am sure it was unintentional. I dona mind. You are welcome to read my mind if you would like. I dona think you would be surprised by anything inside of itâ.
âI would not intentionally enter your mind. I am sorry for the intrusionâ.
âThink nothing of itâ.
When Moira had finished the massage, she offered to bring Xavier some tea.
âNo thank you,â he responded. âBut your visit today has me feeling enormously refreshed. Will you visit me again?â
âCertainly. Letâs make it a habit. How about every day?â
âI would like nothing moreâ.
***
It was time for my bridge duty shift so off I went to the bridge. Jean Paul was with his sister; sheâd had another tantrum. He said he was going to take her swimming in the gymâs pool hoping that might calm her down a bit.
Bridge duty was serious business, I knew. A few days after we had gotten our tape re-aired, FOH ships had fired on our general location. It served as a reminder that one never knew what could happen while you were at the helm, so as I stepped through the doors, I reminded myself to stay alert.
Hank was on the bridge. He was taking his command duties very seriously. It hadnât even been his shift (Cannonball had been on duty, and he left after saying hello to me) but I guessed Hank wanted to stay on top of whatever was going on.
Hank and I exchanged greetings, and I sat in the captainâs chair. I touched a few buttons on the monitors and found that everything was in the normal range.
âAre you working on anything in particular?â I asked Hank. He was hunched over one of the computers.
âI am studying a dilithium usage report,â he said.
âReally? I thought we had nothing to worry about. I mean, Mags has a ton of it â“ and I thought he gave us a whole bunch tooâ.
âHe did. I simply want to ensure that we do not again experience the problem we had during our first voyage into space when we found that we possessed less than we had thoughtâ.
âOh. That makes senseâ. I also thought it was a bit of overkill, but thatâs just like Hank. I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye. A bunch of thoughts went through my head as I glanced at the big blue frame. I remembered how I had kind of neglected him when Jean Paul and I were first getting together on Haven and I felt a twinge of guilt. I remembered the time, before that, when heâd confided in me that he was lonely and longed for a romantic relationship. I remembered how I used to brush him and how the last few times Iâd offered, he hadnât been interested. I also remembered that the last time I had exchanged more than a few sentences with himâ“ at lunch two days ago â“ he had told me that he really missed Jean. He was so busy now â“ or he made himself so busy â“ that it was my turn to feel a tad neglected now. But I didnât want to make a big deal about it or bother him because he had so much on his plate.
Despite all these thoughts whirling around my head, I also somehow had the feeling that everything would be okay and our friendship would always be there. I really just felt it, knew it, deep down somehow and that made me feel better.
Subspace beeped. âItâs the Prevail,â I said.
âPatch them in,â Hank said.
I pressed a few buttons. âHere we go,â I said. âAudio onlyâ.
âThis is Magneto,â the commanding voice on the other end said. âI would like to speak to Xavierâ.
âThe Professor is in his room, carrying out our mission as we had discussed,â Hank said. âI prefer to not disturb himâ.
âIt has been three days since we last spoke,â Magneto said. He was referring to the big meeting when Cyclops and Wolverine had announced they were departing for Haven. Mags had seemed pretty ticked off as that meeting had gone on. It was almost kind of funny. âI would like a progress reportâ.
âI will convey your request to the Professorâ.
âThank you,â Magneto said, with an odd formality. And that was the end of the conversation.
I was still on my bridge duty shift when Hank returned with an update. By then, Jean Paul had joined me (his sister decided to take a nap after her swim). We were sitting together, doing not much more than talking and staring out the window when we werenât periodically keeping our eyes on the sensors.
Hankâs update to Magneto was short and to the point. He said that the Professor was making steady progress. He talked a bit about the Professorâs methods, which were more along the lines of presenting evidence and gently coaxing people to a conclusion, rather than forcing them to adopt his viewpoints. Magneto didnât like that, but he did like the fact that no mutants had been transported to the camps, and that the leaders of three of the worldâs superpowers were publically questioning their support of FOH. One of FOHâs top leaders had resigned, and another had aired his concerns over their treatment of mutants with FOHâs other leaders.
So in other words â“ it was slow going but it seemed to be working. Just listening to him, I felt hopeful. I felt like we really would win this. Maybe our method wasnât the ârightâ method or the fairest, that I donât know and minds greater than mine can debate it. But if we were preventing mutants from being tortured in FOH camps, if we were getting world leaders to question FOH, then we were winning in my book.
âI have become a patient man,â Magneto said. âSo I can continue to wait although I look forward to retreating to my planet and reuniting with Wanda and Pietro. Please update me regularlyâ. He paused. âI know Moira visits him every day now. How is Charles?â
Hank looked down for a second. I wasnât sure how heâd respond. He finally said, âHe is well. I believe he is tired, and he still deals with ethical concerns over the fact that he is entering othersâ minds unbidden. But overall, he appears well. Moiraâs visits indeed seem to help himâ.
âGoodâ.
With that, Magneto ended the conversation. Jean Paul smiled at Hank. âHow about taking a break, my friend?â he asked. âThe three of us could play a board gameâ.
âI am a firm believer of not playing games while on bridge duty,â Hank said. He paused. âHowever I would be delighted to play when Bobbyâs shift is overâ.
I smiled and told them I looked forward to it. âLetâs also invite Jubilee,â I added.
***
Wolverine was sitting inside a shuttlecraft, a space no larger than his bedroom on board Victory. He was alone, except for Storm who might have looked to an observer as if she were merely sleeping. The steady beeps and hums of the medical equipment attached to Storm clearly gave another story though.
He wondered if perhaps he hadnât changed at all. Wolverine always had a reputation as a loner, and he realized that after several days alone inside this shuttle, he was doing fine. He didnât mind being alone, eating alone from the replicator, and taking sponge baths inside the shuttleâs tiny bathroom which contained no more than a toilet and a sink. He was warping through the vast, cold, expanse of space with and for a woman he loved, and he knew that he had always taken his relationships with women he loved very seriously. Being inside the tiny shuttle all day, every day didnât bother him. He wished for a larger space to exercise, he wished for a whiff of the outdoors, but he also suspected he had endured far worse conditions during his lifetime.
But no; it would be wrong to say that he hadnât changed at all, he realized. He missed the other X-men; he could almost touch and taste their absence. And the highlights of his days were his subspace contacts with a man he once hated and whom he now realized he actually liked. He and Cyclops talked over subspace, though most often they discussed computer games â“ which to play next, whose turn it was, when theyâd play again. âBobby would be proud,â Cyclops wryly remarked.
The days were long. Wolverine realized that to make them tolerable, one simply had to make each activity last about five times longer than it needed to. Brushing teeth lasted longer than ten minutes now. Washing clothing and hanging them to dry took over forty five minutes. One meal could be stretched to nearly an hour. Weight lifting could take up to two hours. Scrolling through the computerâs file and choosing a book or an article to read was another way to make the time go by. Sitting by Stormâs bedside, holding her hand, and talking to her could last half the day. The time did pass slowly, but tolerably and still the dayâs highlights centered around talking to Cyclops. Yes, Wolverine realized, he had changed.
Talking over subspace required less dilithium when it was just an audio connection, no video â“ and so that is what Wolverine and Cyclops tended to use.
âWeâll hit the seven day mark in just about four hours,â Cyclops said. âThat means we just have five weeks to go. Give or take a dayâ. He then added, âSometimes I dim the illumination on my clock, so I canât see what time it is. Then I challenge myself to see how long I can go without checking. But I felt I had to look just nowâ.
Wolverine bit his tongue to keep from adding that he sometimes did the same thing, temporarily shutting the clock off. âWonder where Alpha Flightâs at,â he muttered.
âItâs hard to sayâ. They had actually had this conversation before, but no harm in repeating it. âOur shuttles are in better condition than their ship, and I wonder if we could catch up to them. But even if we could, I donât know how weâd find them since theyâre cloaked too. They donât have any telepaths on boardâ.
âHell, donât know if Iâd wanna even board their ship. That James is a piece of workâ.
âHe seemed mellower now. I mean, not much,â Cyclops quickly amended. âBut he seemed better, last time I talked to himâ. Cyclops paused. âHe offered to take a letter to Jean for me. So I wrote it and gave it to him. He found an envelope and sealed it up. That was niceâ.
Wolverine was surprised. Both at Jamesâ offer and the fact that Cyclops was telling him this. He couldnât think of a tactful way to acknowledge what Cyclops told him, and it didnât seem like a good time for sarcasm either. âThatâs somethinâ,â he said. He then asked, âHow oldâs John now?â
âFifty-one days. Or 52, but Iâm pretty sure itâs 51. Heâs just over seven weeks oldâ.
âStill a young little guyâ.
âYeah. I wonder how big he is now. I canât wait till weâre in subspace range from Haven and Jean can tell me more about how heâs doingâ. Cyclops was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, âWhat about you, Wolverine? You ever want to have a kid some day?â
Wolverine heard the question and realized that he definitely had changed, a lot. Because he had no desire to hit Cyclops for asking the question and he almost wanted to discuss it. He didnât see any harm in answering the question it, anyway. âDonât know. Maybe, maybe notâ.
âYouâd be good with kids. You did so well with Jubilee when she first came to usâ.
âI think I maybe like âem better when theyâre closer to that age. Not so much when theyâre really young babies. Canât talk to âem thenâ.
âBut they grow up. So, what do you think? Do you think youâll have one someday?â
âDamn youâre nosy today. The trip must be gettinâ to youâ. He was quiet for a moment and then sighed. âI donât know, Cyke. Depends on if Storm gets better, if she even wants one - she ainât gettinâ any younger and Iâm not a spring chicken myself. She never said anything about wantinâ one. Iâm fine if she donâtâ.
He silently added that it was bad enough that he had allowed himself to care about Storm and so many other people now too. Having a helpless baby to worry about wouldnât make life much easier.
âYou and Jean havinâ another someday?â Logan asked.
âWeâd like to. We donât know when. Things are so up in the air for mutants now; thereâs so much uncertainty. But thatâs what we said when we agreed to get pregnant the first time, and itâs just as true now as it was then. You canât put off the things you want to do in life waiting for things to get better for mutants. By the time that happens, weâll be too old to have kids. We have to do the things that matter nowâ.
Wolverine grunted his assent. The things that matter. He glanced at Storm and he willed the shuttle to go faster.
Cyclops wanted to say more. He wanted to toss in a question along the lines of, âYouâre over Jean now, right?â But the question was too awkward, the answer too obvious.
However, if Scott changed his mind and decided to ask the question, they did have five more weeks to Haven.
***
Epilogue -
Four weeks ago the Professor began his work, entering the minds of world leaders. We all think itâs made a huge difference. FOH chapters have disbanded as FOH overall has lost droves of members. Several governments have officially severed their ties with the hate group. Some television stations stopped airing anti-mutant propaganda and one even did a sympathetic piece on mutants. With each passing day, it became clear to me and everyone else that this would be a huge task that wouldnât be ended quickly, but with each day we also saw more good actions than bad ones. That was amazing.
We monitored news reports all the time. When it looked like mutants â“ even X-men -- might be able to safely walk the streets, people started talking about wanting to see the mansion. Or what was left of it. It was still a risky prospect, but we were curious. So we talked to Hank one day and he agreed that if we used our psionic shields and if Nightcrawler was alert and ready to teleport us back to the ship if needed, weâd be okay. Hank said he would stay on the bridge and monitor FOH activity (I think he like got some information from the Professor which made keeping track of FOH easier) so he could alert us if any of them came into the area.
It seemed safe to me and I really wanted to go. I missed the Institute, even missed my bedroom inside it. It had been over nine months since that night when FOH attacked us, nine months since Iâd seen the mansion, the place that had taken such good care of me. I couldnât believe all that had happened during those nine months.
So we got a small group together. It would be Rogue, Gambit, Nightcrawler, and Jubilee. Jean Paul wanted to go with me so he decided to join us as well. The others either said theyâd take a rain check or didnât seem as interested.
The six of us got to the bridge, and were ready to activate the psionic shields, when Colossus stepped through the bridgeâs doors. âI go with you,â Colossus said, looking at Jubilee. âJust to protect you. Help keep an eye on youâ.
âThanks for the offer, Peter,â Jubilee said. âBut I donât need protectingâ. She seemed to have mastered the âpolite but firmâ mode of delivery.
I saw Colossus nod and then step back. I couldnât tell if he was disappointed or frustrated or just accepting it. I think it may have been the latter.
We turned the shields on, held onto Nightcrawler, and down we went.
FOH had destroyed it, of course. There was rubble and ruin in place of the mansion. You could see the outer perimeter of about half the building, and if you walked through it you could even see the outline of where a few rooms had been. One wing of the mansion had a few crumbling walls left. I didnât see any furniture or anything of value left.
âIâm surprised at how quiet it is here,â Nightcrawler said. âFOH apparently didnât try to build a base here or do anything else with the landâ.
âMaybe dey tâought it had bad karma here, all dese mutants,â Gambit suggested.
He was probably right, I thought. FOH may very well have avoiding doing anything here other than destroying the building, given that so many of them had seemed to believe that we were nothing but pure evil.
âIt looks like somethingâs taken up living here though,â Jubilee called, as she walked towards a wing of the mansion. âLike an animal or something. Or lots of animalsâ.
âWe rebuild dis once before,â Gambit said. âDat time Juggernaught destroyed itâ.
âWe can do it again someday too,â Rogue added.
I looked at them and nodded. They were right.
Hank spoke through our communicators just to confirm that Victoryâs sensors still picked up no signs of FOH soldiers in this area.
Jean Paul and I started to walk off by ourselves. I held his hand; I did it automatically and without a second thought. As we walked, we did keep an eye on the others, just for safety reasons.
âAre you sad that the mansion is destroyed?â he asked me. He switched the hands that held me and put the other on my shoulder.
I shook my head. âWe knew there was no way FOH wouldâve left it in tact. Itâs just a buildingâ.
âYou are right. The more important thing is that you have a strong team together, you care about each otherâ. He paused. âI would like to be a part of it. I would like to be an X-manâ.
âThatâs awesome,â I said. I kind of knew that weâd been heading this way for a while. I had known for sure that Jean Paul was going to stay with me, and I would be wherever the X-men were. âI know the rest of the team will be glad to have you. Maybe when we teleport back up, we can tell Hank and make it official. And then have a long overdue celebration, for that and for Hankâs promotionâ.
âI would like that. I would like it more if we celebrate on earth someday, maybe in a restaurant that was once closed to mutants,â Jean Paul added.
I smiled. âIf the Professorâs work keeps doing what itâs doing, that day shouldnât be too far offâ. And then I thought of Aurora, who always lurked in the back of my mind. I hated to say it, but I realized that I viewed her as a potential black cloud always in the distance. âWhat about Aurora?â
My question might have been vague but I think Jean Paul knew what I meant. âI think she will want to stay wherever I am. I was the one who went back for her when she ran off from Alpha Flight beforeâ.
I took a breath. âWhat about her mental state though? I mean, I know itâs not her fault that sheâŠhas mental problems, but something needs to be done to help herâ.
âI know. I am trying to give her subtle ideas, about asking Xavier for help. Maybe by the time his work is farther along and he has more time, I will have convinced her to work with himâ.
âI hope so,â I said.
Nightcrawler teleported to us and reminded us to stay not far from the others, so that we could be teleported away if trouble arose. I knew that weâd be fine that day, though. And if, for some reason, FOH did surprise us and we couldnât teleport back to the ship, I wasnât that afraid of facing them either.
***
Rogue and Gambit continued to walk through the mansionâs rubble. Rogue observed her fiancĂ© and thought that he almost appeared to be searching for something. She knit her brow, wondering about that. With the mansion in pieces, Rogue had only a vague idea of what room had been where. After not long, she found a small stump and sat on it.
Gambit went up to her. âYou not lookinâ around?â
âSeen one pile of rubble, seen âem all,â Rogue remarked.
Gambit looked at her. Behind her tough exterior he saw a few flashes of pain. âYou miss dis place?â he asked gently.
Rogue sighed and shook her head. âI shouldnât. After all, it ainât the place that matter, but the peopleâ. She took another breath. âI guess I do miss it thoughâ.
âNothinâ wrong witâ dat,â he said, settling down next to her.
Rogue rested her head on his shoulder. âItâs just that thereâs so much history here. In what was this building. We met here, you and me. We came together first here. And I found a family here for the first time. Any time I feel pain or feel scared, I just kinda close my eyes and picture a few things and I feel better. I think of the mansionâŠthe X-menâŠyou, RemyâŠ.the family I made here. So the mansionâs gone. The other things still existâ.
âDatâs the important thing,â Gambit said. âAnâ I know youâre sad dat Storm and the others ainât here. But I tâink dey be back soon. We just gotta waitâ.
âI know, Remy. I know. And when they get back, weâre havinâ that weddinâ!â
âA day I look forward toâ.
***
Moira and the Professor sat inside his room, eating breakfast together. It was their daily ritual now. Moira looked forward to the shuttle ride from the Prevail to Victory each morning. Charles saw it as a much needed mental break from his strenuous daily work.
Charles looked better, Moira noted, than he had that day when she had insisted on giving him a massage.
âI scanned the news after I first woke up,â Moira said. âI saw even more reasons for hope. The UN is going to vote on a resolution supporting mutant rights, and they said it is certain to pass. It may be symbolic, but it is an important symbolâ.
Charles nodded. âMagneto is so convinced that things will continue to get better, that he contacted me last night. He said that he is thinking of taking his ship and retiring to that planet where his son and daughter are. He thinks the battle is over and we are certain to winâ. At Moiraâs slightly alarmed look, Charles added, âWe would of course welcome you and Siryn on Victory, should you choose to stay with the X-men. We can take the barracks and make them into several rooms â“ I am sure that several of the X-men would look forward to a construction project like that, actuallyâ.
Moira nodded. âThat would be well, Charles. Of course I would decide to remain with you. I am so happy that it appears we are winning. And it is all thanks to youâ.
The Professor shook his head. âI never wanted to play God. I had hoped for years that words and deeds would be enough to change mindsâ.
âPerhaps we are living in a time when good words and deeds are not enough, when too many evil-spirited people are in positions of powerâ. Moira paused. She knew that they had held this conversation many times before, and yet she suspected that Charles perhaps needed these reminders. âYou are doing it to prevent a greater evil - evil such as the kind that was done to my family. For that I will always be grateful, Charles, and I will always believe you are doing the right thing. I know you will agonize over it, Charles, but I pray you willna give it another thoughtâ.
âThank you, Moira,â he said quietly, as he reached for his warm mug of tea.
Moira sliced a small piece of cantaloupe. âThere is something I have wanted to ask you, Charles,â she began.
âWhat is it?â he asked, noting her serious tone.
âI would like to have a memorial service, for Kevin and Banshee. I think I need to bid them a proper farewell. I dona know if Siryn is ready or not â“ the girl still barely speaks to me or anyone - but I strongly feel that I need to do this. Will you help me plan it? The others here barely knew Banshee. Rogue and Hank had met my sonâŠunder less than ideal circumstances, I know. You knew them better than anyoneâ. She paused. âYou are the only person in my life who knows meâ.
âMoiraâŠI am honored. Of course I will plan the ceremony with youâ.
Moira stood up. âThank you, Charlesâ. She walked over towards him and, without further ado, bent down, placed her hands on his temples, and kissed his bald head. âI have been dying to do that for weeks now,â she said, smiling a rare smile.
Her smile lit Charlesâ heart. For a moment, words failed him.
âI, um, I dona how exactly you feel about me, Charles,â Moira began. âBut I do have an inkling or two. I need to tell you that I still love Sean. And I have such strong feelings for you, tooâ. She paused. âAnd that every morning I wake up and I ask myself how long is enough time. How much time after the death of one man you love is enough time for you to allow yourself to be withâŠanother man you love?â
Charlesâ heart stirred and his insides felt electric. For years he had thought that a love relationship would detract from his work, that he didnât need a wife. He was starting to feel now, though, that such a relationship might enhance his work. He wondered if it was melodramatic to speculate that such a relationship might save his life.
âI donât know the answer, Moira,â Charles began. âI only know that when you feel the time is rightâŠI will be here waiting for youâ.
***
Jean Grey was in the kitchen punching a few buttons on the food replicator. She placed her food on a tray and made her way to the dining room to eat. It was a few hours after the usual lunch time and Jean wasnât particularly hungry but she knew that she at least should eat.
John lay sleeping in his stroller, next to her table. One of the members of Alpha Flight walked by, looked as if he wanted to start cooing at John, but thought better of it when he saw that the baby was sleeping peacefully.
Jean patted the letter from Scott, which she kept folded inside her pocket at all times. The Maple Leaf had landed on Haven three days ago. They had burned out their engines, pushing them aggressively all the way to return to the paradise. Their ship might not be useable any more but they were where they wanted to be. After so many weeks of near solitude â“ with only Heather and their babies for company â“ it still required some adjustment on Jeanâs part to sharing Haven with numerous others. But at least they had delivered the letter from Scott. Reading it had meant the world to her; just thinking of it gave Jean hope.
Still, it had been hard. It was hard watching Heather gleefully reunite with her husband, though Jean managed to muster up some sincere happiness for them. It was hard getting used to noise and commotion in the halls, much of it generated by Walterâs rambunctious son. Jean was the only X-man here. When she had first come to Haven, it had been with her team, her family, who meant so much to her. Everyone was kind and friendly but none of them were Scott Summers either.
âThat looks good. Eat something, honey,â someone said to Jean.
The speaker, Jean remembered, was Heatherâs mother though Jean questioned her own sanity when she realized that she could not recall the womanâs name. She smiled vaguely in reply and murmured something pleasant. She forced herself to take a bite of the Rueben sandwich. John soon woke from his slumber and the older woman asked if she could hold him.
Just as Jean assented, she felt a mental jolt. Without really thinking of it, her brain continually did a telepathic scan, reaching as far out into space as she could. She detected something. Jean then concentrated deeply, probing that connection she had detected.
âScott!â she cried out, unaware that she was speaking aloud.
//Is it you? Are you there, Scott?// she then asked, telepathically.
//Jean! Yes, it is I. I am on my way to Haven, in a shuttle. Wolverine is in another shuttle, with Storm. Storm was injured and is going to need Havenâs healing powers. Sheâs been in a coma for weeks.//
Jean took it in. //What about everyone else?//
//Theyâre fine. Theyâre back on earth. The Professor is using his telepathy to change peopleâs minds about mutants//.
//How far are you from Haven?//
//It will be almost four days. Three days, and eighteen hours.//
Jean and Scott spent the balance of those three days telepathically catching up. The other inhabitants of Haven were a bit concerned since Jean spent so much time at this, but once Heather saw that Jean was doing enough eating, sleeping, and tending to John she told the others that there was no reason for concern.
âIâm doing better than fine, Heather!â Jean had actually spoken, one of the times Heather checked in on her. âMy husbandâs coming home!â
***
The shuttles landed. Wolverineâs was first; Cyclopsâs would touch down a minute or two later. Jean greeted Logan, and he was friendly enough in response but he wasted no time in hoisting Stormâs stretcher and heading straight for the hut that had healed Xavier. Sasquatch followed his former teammate, offering his assistance. Jean had had time to squeeze Stormâs hand and say a quick prayer for her recovery.
The ramp to Scottâs shuttle opened. Jean was amazed at her own response, her heart beating faster than that of a teenage girl attending a rock concert of her heartthrob. Scott descended the shuttleâs ramp and the two just looked at each other before coming together in a most enthusiastic hug. Their kiss conveyed excitement and gratitude for their reunion, but Jean knew that Scott was eager to hold the baby too.
âHeâs grown so much,â Scott said, lifting John out of his carrier.
Jean was worried that John might start to cry since he didnât seem to enjoy being held by anyone other than Jean. But the subtle telepathic images that Jean occasionally shared with the baby must have helped. John remained placid as Scott cuddled him.
âYou look so happy to be holding him,â Jean said. She knew she was stating the obvious but it was fun to say it.
âI am so happy, home with you and John at lastâ.
They hugged once again as Scott held John. A few members of Alpha Flight stood by and greeted Scott. He returned their greetings but was wrapped up in Jean and John.
Scott kept his gaze alternating between Jean and John. He held his son, feeling his heart overflow with love. Jean wrapped her arms around Scott and variously planted kisses on this face.
âI love you so much,â she murmured.
âI love you too, Jeanâ.
***
Wolverine sat next to Stormâs prone form, inside the small hut. He didnât know how long he had been there. His sense of time during the trip to Haven had been skewed. He did register that Sasquatch checked in on him once or twice, and that Jean and Scott also visited once, bringing food and a lantern, and expressing concern over Storm.
Wolverine tried to remember how long the Professorâs recovery inside this hut had taken. He rubbed his temples. His head felt foggy and he couldnât recall whether Xavierâs recovery had been instant or more drawn-out. Six weeks cooped up inside that shuttle, worrying about Storm, had not helped his mental acuity.
When it was too dark to see Storm, Wolverine lit the lantern. He then resumed his vigil seated beside Storm. The Wind Rider still failed to stir. She remained motionless as ever, her eyes shut.
Patience, Logan told himself. Maybe that was what the universe was trying to teach him. As if he hadnât been patient enough during the journey here.
What if the universe was trying to teach him something else, he feared. Maybe the lesson was a cruel one. Perhaps the lesson was that men like Cyclops would always get what they wanted while those like Wolverine were destined to be bereft. Perhaps the lesson was that it truly had been a mistake to allow himself to love and care for anyone else, that he had been better off alone.
No. That sentiment was wrong, and his years with the X-men had proven it to him over and over again, despite his silent protests to the contrary. And Logan knew that allowing himself to love Ororo, despite the fact that she wasnât perfect, despite the fact that she was attainable â“ and despite the fact that she wasnât Jean â“ had been the right thing to do.
Sunlight streamed in through the hutâs sole window. Logan rubbed his eyes, suspecting that he had dozed off for a moment. It couldnât have been too long though; heâd had no dreams. He heard a quiet moan.
âStorm!â Wolverine jumped to his feet, to Stormâs side.
Her eyes were open. She made another guttural sound.
âYou in pain, darlinâ?â
Ororo slowly shook her head from side to side. She tried to speak, failed. She waited another moment before she said, âNo painâ. She let out a sigh. âI just feel like crapâ.
Logan started to laugh at hearing the uncharacteristic expletive from Stormâs lips. It was a moment to savor. Though he wanted to be alone with his lover, he called for Sasquatch to come and monitor Stormâs condition. But his gut told him that she would be well.
âAre we on Haven?â Storm managed.
âYeah. Itâs a long story. But youâre gonna be alright, darlinââ.
Storm slowly brought herself to a sitting position. âYou sure thatâs a good idea?â he asked.
âIt is probably not but I feel like I have been laying down for weeksâ.
Wolverine smiled a laugh-smile. âYou haveâ.
âOh. Shitâ.
âHey, Ro? Would you swear more often? âCuz I like itâ.
âIf I had enough energy, Iâd swat at you for thatâ.
âIâd like that too,â Logan admitted. âMaybe gettinâ injuredâs brought out your playful sideâ. He paused and thought again. Perhaps if the universe was giving him a lesson, it was a reminder that he had to love and accept her as is.
Logan bent over and embraced her. Ororo returned the hug with as much energy as she had. When Walter entered the hut, the couple were exchanging âI love youâsâ.
***
Things were going so well on earth that Magneto did what he told us he was going to â“ he took his ship and left for that planet where his son and daughter were waiting. Along with him went Pyro, Avalanche, Leech, Caliban, Flex, Radius â“ and Emma. I really hoped that half of them werenât going just because Emma was. I know that some of our guys were extremely disappointed that Emma was leaving but she said that she was tired of combat and strife on earth. All I knew about âMagnetoâs planetâ was that it was really far, but I suspected that we hadnât seen the last of him, or Emma.
Moira, Siryn, Puck, and Shaman moved from Magnetoâs ship to Victory since they didnât want to leave with Magneto. We installed some walls in the barracks to make them actual, separate rooms.
Given how well things were getting on earth, our next order of business was to retrieve Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, and Storm from Haven. But we couldnât all go â“ the Professor and several others needed to stay near earth and make sure progress kept happening. So we called a meeting and had a long discussion. We decided to âborrowâ another starship from FOH, a decision which Iâm surprised the Professor didnât express more angst on. (But really, what choice did we have? And FOH had a ton of ships that they werenât using since they had âdecidedâ not to keep waging war on us). We also decided that Psylocke needed to be on the journey, because we needed a telepath just in case something had gone awry during Wolverine and Cyclopsâs treks back to Haven â“ it would just make sensing them easier.
The Professor then asked for volunteers to return to Haven, in addition to Psylocke. Angel was a given. Jean Paul and I looked at each other and ended up volunteering to go as well. We couldnât do much good here on earth â“ most of the work was really being done by the Professorâs mind â“ and I was eager to get the X-men reunited. Aurora was okay with going with us as well. Jubilee also volunteered to go; I know she was missing Wolverine like crazy, and once she spoke up, Colossus also said that heâd like to go.
So that was the final group â“ Jean Paul and me, Aurora, Psylocke, Angel, Jubilee, and Colossus. It might seem like a lot, but we did need several people so that we could have enough to cover bridge duty.
Remaining on board Victory would be the Professor, Hank, Rogue, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Cannonball, Forge, Moonstar, Marrow, Moira, Siryn, Puck, and Shaman.
I knew Iâd miss Hank, Rogue, and Gambit a lot â“ but I also knew it was just temporary and hoped weâd be back on earth in no time. Hank was always so busy anyway since he was our team leader.
âWhen you all get back with all the others,â Rogue said, during our meeting, âRemy and I are gonna have the greatest weddinâ!â
Smiles and cheers broke out at that proclamation.
âI look forward to it,â the Professor said. He looked happier than Iâd seen him in months. âThe X-men are spread out across the galaxy. I am very eager for our reunionâ.
âWe all are,â Hank added. âLet it be soonâ.
THE END
I hope you enjoyed âParallelsâ. I havenât yet decided if Iâm going to do a sequel but please let me know what you thought of the story. Thanks for reading!
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