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Chapter Eighteen – 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 didn’t 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 there’s 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 wasn’t 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 Magneto’s ship, where there were empty personnel quarters, and saying that her brother should go with her. Fortunately, once Wolverine and Cyclops’s shuttles departed, Aurora moved right into Wolverine and Storm’s 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 Cyclops’s 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 can’t-get-enough-of-each-other phase.

“So what’s the deal with Angel?” I asked. “Did he really sleep with your sister on the way to earth? Puck told me”.

“Yes, he did. And I could punch the bastard for taking advantage of a mentally ill woman like that,” he said, sounding more disgusted than angry. “But she would not be stopped. I am sure she hoped it would make Walter jealous”.

“I take it that it didn’t?”

Jean Paul sighed. “I 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 doesn’t care if he has to remain celibate the rest of his life, he is finished with her”.

“So
how is she doing?” I paused and added, “I have a hard time reading where she’s at. Some days she seems fine, other days not”.

“I think overall – she’s 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 didn’t 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 mask”.

“Wow, that sucks. Do you think she could work with the Professor? He is an expert in this area”.

As he spoke, Jean Paul leisurely stroked my arm. “He’s 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 assistance”. He shook his head. “It didn’t 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 child”.

“Maybe it is, in a way”.

“Perhaps,” he said slowly, now sounding very far away. “Yes. Maybe it is”.

“What is it?” I asked gently, guessing that there was something behind his tone, which sounded lost in thought.

“Just that
just 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 it”.

I heard Jean Paul say the words but, looking back now, I don’t think I really digested them. I didn’t 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.

“I’m so glad you’re back here. I was so worried when you were gone. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you back, and I’m happier than ever,” I said. And then I said the words that I had wanted to say for days. I’d been avoiding saying them because they sounded so mushy, but I couldn’t help it now. “It feels so amazing, being with you. None of the other guys I was with were ever like you – affectionate, tender”. I was really worried that my words were too corny, so I just kissed him.

“Thank you, mon ame,” he whispered. “I am so glad to be with you”.

***

Several of FOH’s 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 FOH’s members were confused at the freeze at the Extermination Camps. The orders from FOH’s 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 FOH’s side. It made no sense. But FOH’s top leaders were unapproachable and unaccountable to all but a few. It didn’t look like FOH’s rank and file members would be getting answers any time soon. They could just wait and hope, and pray that FOH wouldn’t 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 Professor’s 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 Xavier’s voice told him to enter.

“I brought you a meal,” Hank said, stepping into the darkened room. “Many 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 – 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 recommend”.

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 Professor’s room, he walked swiftly to the bridge. He brought up subspace and urgently patched in to the Prevail.

***

Another knock sounded on Xavier’s 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.

“Come in”.

He was surprised to see Moira MacTaggert standing before him. The firm knock hadn’t sounded like her. The determined look on Moira’s face, with her jaw set firmly, was also new; Xavier had not seen her looking robust for too long to remember now.

“Charles, I am worried about you,” Moira began, crossing the room and walking directly to Xavier. “I am here to do something to help you. You are one of the world’s 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 me”.

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 FOH’s 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.

“I suppose you are right,” he said. “Do what you will”.

“Very well then,” Moira said, rolling up her sleeves and moving herself directly against the wheelchair. “We will start with a massage,” she decided.

She placed her hands on his head. It was as smooth as she remembered, but very, very warm. “Are you too hot, Charles? Do you want me to lower the temperature in here?”

“No. No, that won’t be necessary”.

Moira began to gently massage his temples. She took her time, and her touch was light and gentle. She wasn’t sure if he would want a firmer touch. It had been so long since they had been together, and she couldn’t remember ever touching him quite this way. Moira moved her hands lower to massage Charles’ neck and shoulders.

As her hands worked, she asked, “When’s the last time you had something to eat?”

“I ate some of what Hank brought me”.

“Ah, I see the tray. And before that? Dare I even ask?”

“I’m not certain when the last time before then was”.

“Are you hungry now?”

“Not particularly”. And then, because Charles’ defenses were completely gone, he added, “Don’t stop”.

“I wilna,” Moira promised. She continued to work his neck, shoulders, and occasionally move her hands back up to rub his temples again.

“What about the rest of you?” Moira asked, after several minutes. “Of course we would need to get you out of this chair”.

This break was exactly what Xavier needed. He was starting to feel a bit more like himself though he still wasn’t quite as in control as usual. After taking control of so many others’ minds, he had to relinquish some control now.

“Whatever you feel is best”.

“Let’s get you to the bed so we can continue massaging you,” 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.

“Excellent. Can I get you out of some of these clothes? I think I could do a better job with the massage – 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 suits”.

“You have always dressed formally too,” he observed.

“I suppose that is the case,” she said, as she began unbuttoning his jacket. “This is alright with you, yes?”

“Yes,” 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.

“Do you not take breaks, Charles? Don’t you think regular breaks would help you?” she asked.

“It is such intense work,” he said.

“All the more reason to take breaks. Is that not the advice you yourself would give to one of your students?”

“I suppose it is. It is just that once I stop, it is harder to start again”.

“Ah, 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 though”.

“You understand us better than any non-mutant. You have done more than any to build bridges”.

“Don’t be silly, Charles. You have done more than anyone else. You have such great power and you have always used it for good”. Moira’s hands were massaging each of Charles’ fingers separately.

“Unfortunately, that is not the case. I cannot consider what I am doing now to be remotely good. Rather, it is the lesser of two evils”.

“I 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, then
.” Moira stopped her words, though she continued the work of her hands, not letting up. But she didn’t want to break down in front of Xavier, not when her goal was to comfort him.

“Moira,” he began, tenderly. “I – “ 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. “You and I both feel guilty,” he observed. “You, because you could not prevent what happened to your family – no matter how illogical that feeling of guilt in your case may be. I feel guilty for entering so many minds unbidden”.

“Well, it is good that we have that in common,” 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 – 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 “morally reprehensible” 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.

“That is correct, Moira. You have no reason to feel guilty,” Charles said.

“Why, Charles. Did you not just read my mind?”

“Did I?” Xavier asked, alarmed. “I – I, for some reason I thought you had spoken aloud”.

“You are so tense now,” Moira said, as she stroked his shoulders. “Dona 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 it”.

“I would not intentionally enter your mind. I am sorry for the intrusion”.

“Think nothing of it”.

When Moira had finished the massage, she offered to bring Xavier some tea.

“No thank you,” he responded. “But your visit today has me feeling enormously refreshed. Will you visit me again?”

“Certainly. Let’s make it a habit. How about every day?”

“I would like nothing more”.

***

It was time for my bridge duty shift so off I went to the bridge. Jean Paul was with his sister; she’d had another tantrum. He said he was going to take her swimming in the gym’s 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 hadn’t 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 captain’s chair. I touched a few buttons on the monitors and found that everything was in the normal range.

“Are you working on anything in particular?” I asked Hank. He was hunched over one of the computers.

“I am studying a dilithium usage report,” he said.

“Really? I thought we had nothing to worry about. I mean, Mags has a ton of it – and I thought he gave us a whole bunch too”.

“He 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 thought”.

“Oh. That makes sense”. I also thought it was a bit of overkill, but that’s 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 he’d 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 I’d offered, he hadn’t been interested. I also remembered that the last time I had exchanged more than a few sentences with him– at lunch two days ago – he had told me that he really missed Jean. He was so busy now – or he made himself so busy – that it was my turn to feel a tad neglected now. But I didn’t 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. “It’s the Prevail,” I said.

“Patch them in,” Hank said.

I pressed a few buttons. “Here we go,” I said. “Audio only”.

“This is Magneto,” the commanding voice on the other end said. “I would like to speak to Xavier”.

“The Professor is in his room, carrying out our mission as we had discussed,” Hank said. “I prefer to not disturb him”.

“It has been three days since we last spoke,” 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. “I would like a progress report”.

“I will convey your request to the Professor”.

“Thank you,” 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 weren’t periodically keeping our eyes on the sensors.

Hank’s update to Magneto was short and to the point. He said that the Professor was making steady progress. He talked a bit about the Professor’s 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 didn’t 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 world’s superpowers were publically questioning their support of FOH. One of FOH’s top leaders had resigned, and another had aired his concerns over their treatment of mutants with FOH’s other leaders.

So in other words – 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 wasn’t the “right” method or the fairest, that I don’t 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.

“I have become a patient man,” Magneto said. “So I can continue to wait although I look forward to retreating to my planet and reuniting with Wanda and Pietro. Please update me regularly”. He paused. “I know Moira visits him every day now. How is Charles?”

Hank looked down for a second. I wasn’t sure how he’d respond. He finally said, “He is well. I believe he is tired, and he still deals with ethical concerns over the fact that he is entering others’ minds unbidden. But overall, he appears well. Moira’s visits indeed seem to help him”.

“Good”.

With that, Magneto ended the conversation. Jean Paul smiled at Hank. “How about taking a break, my friend?” he asked. “The three of us could play a board game”.

“I am a firm believer of not playing games while on bridge duty,” Hank said. He paused. “However I would be delighted to play when Bobby’s shift is over”.

I smiled and told them I looked forward to it. “Let’s also invite Jubilee,” 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 hadn’t 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 didn’t mind being alone, eating alone from the replicator, and taking sponge baths inside the shuttle’s 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 didn’t 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 hadn’t 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 – which to play next, whose turn it was, when they’d play again. “Bobby would be proud,” 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 computer’s file and choosing a book or an article to read was another way to make the time go by. Sitting by Storm’s bedside, holding her hand, and talking to her could last half the day. The time did pass slowly, but tolerably and still the day’s 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 – and so that is what Wolverine and Cyclops tended to use.

“We’ll hit the seven day mark in just about four hours,” Cyclops said. “That means we just have five weeks to go. Give or take a day”. He then added, “Sometimes I dim the illumination on my clock, so I can’t 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 now”.

Wolverine bit his tongue to keep from adding that he sometimes did the same thing, temporarily shutting the clock off. “Wonder where Alpha Flight’s at,” he muttered.

“It’s hard to say”. They had actually had this conversation before, but no harm in repeating it. “Our shuttles are in better condition than their ship, and I wonder if we could catch up to them. But even if we could, I don’t know how we’d find them since they’re cloaked too. They don’t have any telepaths on board”.

“Hell, don’t know if I’d wanna even board their ship. That James is a piece of work”.

“He seemed mellower now. I mean, not much,” Cyclops quickly amended. “But he seemed better, last time I talked to him”. Cyclops paused. “He 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 nice”.

Wolverine was surprised. Both at James’ offer and the fact that Cyclops was telling him this. He couldn’t think of a tactful way to acknowledge what Cyclops told him, and it didn’t seem like a good time for sarcasm either. “That’s somethin’,” he said. He then asked, “How old’s John now?”

“Fifty-one days. Or 52, but I’m pretty sure it’s 51. He’s just over seven weeks old”.

“Still a young little guy”.

“Yeah. I wonder how big he is now. I can’t wait till we’re in subspace range from Haven and Jean can tell me more about how he’s doing”. Cyclops was quiet for a few seconds before he asked, “What about you, Wolverine? You ever want to have a kid some day?”

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 didn’t see any harm in answering the question it, anyway. “Don’t know. Maybe, maybe not”.

“You’d be good with kids. You did so well with Jubilee when she first came to us”.

“I think I maybe like ‘em better when they’re closer to that age. Not so much when they’re really young babies. Can’t talk to ‘em then”.

“But they grow up. So, what do you think? Do you think you’ll have one someday?”

“Damn you’re nosy today. The trip must be gettin’ to you”. He was quiet for a moment and then sighed. “I don’t know, Cyke. Depends on if Storm gets better, if she even wants one - she ain’t gettin’ any younger and I’m not a spring chicken myself. She never said anything about wantin’ one. I’m fine if she don’t”.

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 wouldn’t make life much easier.

“You and Jean havin’ another someday?” Logan asked.

“We’d like to. We don’t know when. Things are so up in the air for mutants now; there’s so much uncertainty. But that’s what we said when we agreed to get pregnant the first time, and it’s just as true now as it was then. You can’t put off the things you want to do in life waiting for things to get better for mutants. By the time that happens, we’ll be too old to have kids. We have to do the things that matter now”.

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, ‘You’re over Jean now, right?’ 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 it’s 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 wouldn’t 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 – 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, we’d 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 I’d seen the mansion, the place that had taken such good care of me. I couldn’t 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 they’d take a rain check or didn’t seem as interested.

The six of us got to the bridge, and were ready to activate the psionic shields, when Colossus stepped through the bridge’s doors. “I go with you,” Colossus said, looking at Jubilee. “Just to protect you. Help keep an eye on you”.

“Thanks for the offer, Peter,” Jubilee said. “But I don’t need protecting”. She seemed to have mastered the “polite but firm” mode of delivery.

I saw Colossus nod and then step back. I couldn’t 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 didn’t see any furniture or anything of value left.

“I’m surprised at how quiet it is here,” Nightcrawler said. “FOH apparently didn’t try to build a base here or do anything else with the land”.

“Maybe dey t’ought it had bad karma here, all dese mutants,” 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.

“It looks like something’s taken up living here though,” Jubilee called, as she walked towards a wing of the mansion. “Like an animal or something. Or lots of animals”.

“We rebuild dis once before,” Gambit said. “Dat time Juggernaught destroyed it”.

“We can do it again someday too,” Rogue added.

I looked at them and nodded. They were right.

Hank spoke through our communicators just to confirm that Victory’s 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.

“Are you sad that the mansion is destroyed?” he asked me. He switched the hands that held me and put the other on my shoulder.

I shook my head. “We knew there was no way FOH would’ve left it in tact. It’s just a building”.

“You are right. The more important thing is that you have a strong team together, you care about each other”. He paused. “I would like to be a part of it. I would like to be an X-man”.

“That’s awesome,” I said. I kind of knew that we’d 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. “I 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 Hank’s promotion”.

“I would like that. I would like it more if we celebrate on earth someday, maybe in a restaurant that was once closed to mutants,” Jean Paul added.

I smiled. “If the Professor’s work keeps doing what it’s doing, that day shouldn’t be too far off”. 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. “What about Aurora?”

My question might have been vague but I think Jean Paul knew what I meant. “I 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 before”.

I took a breath. “What about her mental state though? I mean, I know it’s not her fault that she
has mental problems, but something needs to be done to help her”.

“I 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 him”.

“I hope so,” 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 we’d be fine that day, though. And if, for some reason, FOH did surprise us and we couldn’t teleport back to the ship, I wasn’t that afraid of facing them either.

***

Rogue and Gambit continued to walk through the mansion’s 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. “You not lookin’ around?”

“Seen one pile of rubble, seen ‘em all,” Rogue remarked.

Gambit looked at her. Behind her tough exterior he saw a few flashes of pain. “You miss dis place?” he asked gently.

Rogue sighed and shook her head. “I shouldn’t. After all, it ain’t the place that matter, but the people”. She took another breath. “I guess I do miss it though”.

“Nothin’ wrong wit’ dat,” he said, settling down next to her.

Rogue rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s just that there’s 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 mansion
the X-men
you, Remy
.the family I made here. So the mansion’s gone. The other things still exist”.

“Dat’s the important thing,” Gambit said. “An’ I know you’re sad dat Storm and the others ain’t here. But I t’ink dey be back soon. We just gotta wait”.

“I know, Remy. I know. And when they get back, we’re havin’ that weddin’!”

“A day I look forward to”.

***

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.

“I scanned the news after I first woke up,” Moira said. “I 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 symbol”.

Charles nodded. “Magneto 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 win”. At Moira’s slightly alarmed look, Charles added, “We 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 – I am sure that several of the X-men would look forward to a construction project like that, actually”.

Moira nodded. “That 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 you”.

The Professor shook his head. “I never wanted to play God. I had hoped for years that words and deeds would be enough to change minds”.

“Perhaps we are living in a time when good words and deeds are not enough, when too many evil-spirited people are in positions of power”. Moira paused. She knew that they had held this conversation many times before, and yet she suspected that Charles perhaps needed these reminders. “You 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 thought”.

“Thank you, Moira,” he said quietly, as he reached for his warm mug of tea.

Moira sliced a small piece of cantaloupe. “There is something I have wanted to ask you, Charles,” she began.

“What is it?” he asked, noting her serious tone.

“I 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 – 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 son
under less than ideal circumstances, I know. You knew them better than anyone”. She paused. “You are the only person in my life who knows me”.

“Moira
I am honored. Of course I will plan the ceremony with you”.

Moira stood up. “Thank you, Charles”. She walked over towards him and, without further ado, bent down, placed her hands on his temples, and kissed his bald head. “I have been dying to do that for weeks now,” she said, smiling a rare smile.

Her smile lit Charles’ heart. For a moment, words failed him.

“I, um, I dona how exactly you feel about me, Charles,” Moira began. “But 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, too”. She paused. “And 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 with
another man you love?”

Charles’ heart stirred and his insides felt electric. For years he had thought that a love relationship would detract from his work, that he didn’t 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.

“I don’t know the answer, Moira,” Charles began. “I only know that when you feel the time is right
I will be here waiting for you”.

***

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 wasn’t 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 – with only Heather and their babies for company – it still required some adjustment on Jean’s 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 Walter’s 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.

“That looks good. Eat something, honey,” someone said to Jean.

The speaker, Jean remembered, was Heather’s mother though Jean questioned her own sanity when she realized that she could not recall the woman’s 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.

“Scott!” 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 Haven’s healing powers. She’s been in a coma for weeks.//

Jean took it in. //What about everyone else?//

//They’re fine. They’re back on earth. The Professor is using his telepathy to change people’s 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.

“I’m doing better than fine, Heather!” Jean had actually spoken, one of the times Heather checked in on her. “My husband’s coming home!”

***

The shuttles landed. Wolverine’s was first; Cyclops’s 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 Storm’s 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 Storm’s hand and say a quick prayer for her recovery.

The ramp to Scott’s 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 shuttle’s 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.

“He’s grown so much,” Scott said, lifting John out of his carrier.

Jean was worried that John might start to cry since he didn’t 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.

“You look so happy to be holding him,” Jean said. She knew she was stating the obvious but it was fun to say it.

“I am so happy, home with you and John at last”.

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.

“I love you so much,” she murmured.

“I love you too, Jean”.


***

Wolverine sat next to Storm’s prone form, inside the small hut. He didn’t 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 Professor’s recovery inside this hut had taken. He rubbed his temples. His head felt foggy and he couldn’t recall whether Xavier’s 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 hadn’t 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 wasn’t perfect, despite the fact that she was attainable – and despite the fact that she wasn’t Jean – had been the right thing to do.

Sunlight streamed in through the hut’s sole window. Logan rubbed his eyes, suspecting that he had dozed off for a moment. It couldn’t have been too long though; he’d had no dreams. He heard a quiet moan.

“Storm!” Wolverine jumped to his feet, to Storm’s side.

Her eyes were open. She made another guttural sound.

“You in pain, darlin’?”

Ororo slowly shook her head from side to side. She tried to speak, failed. She waited another moment before she said, “No pain”. She let out a sigh. “I just feel like crap”.

Logan started to laugh at hearing the uncharacteristic expletive from Storm’s lips. It was a moment to savor. Though he wanted to be alone with his lover, he called for Sasquatch to come and monitor Storm’s condition. But his gut told him that she would be well.

“Are we on Haven?” Storm managed.

“Yeah. It’s a long story. But you’re gonna be alright, darlin’”.

Storm slowly brought herself to a sitting position. “You sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

“It is probably not but I feel like I have been laying down for weeks”.

Wolverine smiled a laugh-smile. “You have”.

“Oh. Shit”.

“Hey, Ro? Would you swear more often? ‘Cuz I like it”.

“If I had enough energy, I’d swat at you for that”.

“I’d like that too,” Logan admitted. “Maybe gettin’ injured’s brought out your playful side”. 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 ‘I love you’s’.

***

Things were going so well on earth that Magneto did what he told us he was going to – 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 – and Emma. I really hoped that half of them weren’t 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 “Magneto’s planet” was that it was really far, but I suspected that we hadn’t seen the last of him, or Emma.

Moira, Siryn, Puck, and Shaman moved from Magneto’s ship to Victory since they didn’t 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 couldn’t all go – 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 “borrow” another starship from FOH, a decision which I’m surprised the Professor didn’t express more angst on. (But really, what choice did we have? And FOH had a ton of ships that they weren’t using since they had ‘decided’ 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 Cyclops’s treks back to Haven – 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 couldn’t do much good here on earth – most of the work was really being done by the Professor’s mind – 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 he’d like to go.

So that was the final group – 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 I’d miss Hank, Rogue, and Gambit a lot – but I also knew it was just temporary and hoped we’d be back on earth in no time. Hank was always so busy anyway since he was our team leader.

“When you all get back with all the others,” Rogue said, during our meeting, “Remy and I are gonna have the greatest weddin’!”

Smiles and cheers broke out at that proclamation.

“I look forward to it,” the Professor said. He looked happier than I’d seen him in months. “The X-men are spread out across the galaxy. I am very eager for our reunion”.

“We all are,” Hank added. “Let it be soon”.


THE END


I hope you enjoyed “Parallels”. I haven’t yet decided if I’m going to do a sequel but please let me know what you thought of the story. Thanks for reading!





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