Sarah Drew in Indivisible (2018)
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Sarah Drew in Indivisible (2018)

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wreakhavckâ:
Alex hates this. He hates not knowing whatâs going on with her. She wouldnât talk to him. Ironic for him to think so, considering their history, but he couldnât just let it go. She was avoiding talking about it. âTime for what?â he asks. Time to do something? Or⌠What? The last time she left to fix things⌠No, Alex wouldnât think about that. Not right now. âJeannieâŚâ
He sighs. âWe have to,â he nods. His thumb brushes her cheek lightly and kisses her forehead. âBefore it all falls apart and no one can fix it. But you⌠You need to talk to me. Tell me what youâre going to do.â
Jean nearly gives into it, the call of his that she always answers. Her nickname on his lips and his touch that made her melt. Nearly. Tearing herself away from him, she looks frenzied. âI canât.â How did he not see? Didnât he remember? When they lost Hope, the destruction sheâd caused... She couldnât go back, she couldnât use the power hiding inside of her.
âI canât,â she says it harder this time, like sheâs accusing him. Thereâs something wild about her when she backs away from him, like an animal in a cage. The cage being him. Her eyes flicker and she shuts them tight, reminding herself again that her control of her emotions was the one thing between peace and cataclysm.Â
wreakhavckâ:
âIf you knewâŚâ He has a feeling she knows more than sheâs letting on. Or has a theory at the very least. âTalk to me, Jeannie. Let me in too.â It had been a long journey for the two of them to learn to be open with each other; he had never been good at it. He leans his forehead against hers, holding her close. The other Jean Grey may be the original but this was still his Jeannie. The Jean whoâd grown up in the mansion with him, who remembered everything he did, who he fell in love with. Heâd refused to give up searching for her when the ârealâ Jean was discovered. She was real too.
âWe canât do nothing,â he murmurs. There were many many times that he would gladly give up the hero life. But he couldnât let the world burn and stand by. Especially not while his children fought.
Jean had noticed it. When sheâd stepped outside a few mornings ago to pick some herbs from the garden she kept out front. It made her feel like a mother again, taking care of those little plants. She made them grow from the heat in her palm sometimes, when she needed to watch something flourish. She was kneeling there in the grass when she heard her sweet voice. Of course she threw everything sheâd picked to the dirt, running around the corner of the house to find her. She didnât see Hope, but she did see him. A much younger him, happier too.Â
It was only a moment, and in the next second with a blink of her eyes he was gone. At first she chalked it up to the isolation, her powers making her see things that werenât there the longer she went without actively using them. But it happened again and again. Seeing glimpses of Arlo stretched out on his bed reading. Alex shaving in the bathroom while a young, teenage Hope chattered to him where she braided her hair sitting on the edge of the tub. âItâs time...â she whispers back when he lets her know heâs done hiding. Her eyes are screwed shut tight, tears pooling at the corner. âI think...â She sniffles, hand gripping his shirt like sheâs afraid heâll run off when she tells him. âI know that itâs falling apart. And if it is that means...â They could go back, they could move forward. They could fix the world. And find their children.
wreakhavckâ:
Total silence. Alex likes that even less. He stands, pacing to the window before peering out, rubbing his jaw absently. But Jeanâs final words make him go still, looking to her. That agitation, restlessness, disappears from his stance, replaced by concern on his face.
He goes to her, taking her face gently in his hands. âWhat do you mean?â he asks quietly. âJeannie? What is it?â
Jean knows sheâs messed up when she can see his attention shifting. It was impossible to stay out of his head these days. Between Hope still missing and now Arlo gone too... She could feel the Phoenix beckoning to her, though some might argue she wasnât Jean at all and the Phoenix always.Â
She wants to run and hide, lock herself in their room like sheâd been doing for stretches at a time. But she had a feeling he wouldnât let her now that he knew the kids were involved. âShe wonât talk to me...â she whispers. âI think itâs because she knows where they are, and she thinks if I knew too... I donât know.â Her counterpart, the one found at the bottom of the lake theyâd died in years ago, was the real Jean Grey. Recognized as such by people sheâd grown up with. Which meant she was the leader of the remaining X-Men, not her.
wreakhavckâ:
Heâs out. But he wasnât coming home. âSome organisation?â Alex echoes. That sounded ominous, especially given that the prison wouldnât tell them who. Alex knows that since his son was legally of age that he was able to withhold that kind of information if he chose, but it didnât sit well. He could feel that pit of worry in his stomach.
âHave you heard from the other kids yet then?â he asks. This was getting to be too much. He couldnât just sit here. âAny of them?â How could he sit here while his kids were out there?
The last time Jean had heard anything about their niece it was from Arlo telling her to stay away from Rachel. Their phone calls often ended in arguments even if their last words to each other were always I love you. And the others... It was hard to look Oli and Ray in the face knowing their mother died rescuing her kid. She still remembers Annaâs face the moment she threw Arlo from the facility and into Jeanâs arms before being pulled back in. The look of horror on her face when she knew sheâd never see her own kids again.Â
She pushes it from her mind, though itâs clear in her eyes that sheâd returned to the place Alex had rescued her from. In her mind, they were still there. Theyâd always be there as long as Hope was held prisoner. Or dead. Feeling his restlessness continue to rise, she walks away to pretend to straighten out the room. Busy body and busy hands kept him from seeing her too clearly. âNo, total silence. Not Rachel, or Olivier, or Ray.â Sheâs trying to keep her voice calm but it rises at the end of her sentences before she catches herself. âAnd Jean,â it seems weird talking about herself, her other self. The one that was real and living her life, while she herself was some sort of stranger to everyone else. â...she wonât talk to me.â

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wreakhavckâ:
Alex was getting restless. As much as he tried, he couldnât keep his family safe, and it was becoming increasingly clear that he couldnât just sit by and let the world burn. He was a soldier, had been since he was still practically a kid, even before Charles had recruited him to the mutant team. He had to do something.Â
He looks up when Jean speaks, his body tensing. She didnât need to finish that sentence, he knows where. âAnd? What did they say?â Alex and his son didnât always see eye to eye. In fact, the often fought. But no one could say Alex didnât love all his children, his son included.
It didnât take her using her powers to notice the change in her husband. Jean could feel his restlessness growing, especially after what happened to Scott. It was like it didnât matter what they built, it always got torn down. But as he became more tired of hiding, she became more afraid of returning to their lives as X-Men. She could feel the Phoenix laying dormant inside of her, and the last time she let her out... She couldnât do it again, she couldnât be consumed again.
Leaving the kitchen, she goes to stand behind the couch and him. Her hand goes to his hair, threading her fingers through it lightly as she answers. âHeâs out,â she says tentatively. âBut he isnât coming home. He... They wouldnât tell me where he is going, just that some organization recruited him. Along with Olivier and some of the other kids.â She didnât mention Rachel, not yet.
Sarah Drew in Indivisible [2/2]
Outside the world was burning. Most days Jean didnât think about that. Most days Jean barely stepped a foot out the door. Outside the sky was a sort of perma-orange. Fires blazing, blood filling the sky. But here, it was safe. Here, they were in their own Garden. A paradise even, with the birds still chirping in the trees and the sunlight seeming pure and good as it filtered through the windows. Here was safe. And quiet. And barren. In every room there was a ghost, at the breakfast table or sitting on the couch. A ghost to be tucked into bed, a ghost waiting for their hair to be brushed. And there was him.
Jean stares at him, idly drying a plate that wasnât even wet anymore. She feels an anxiety in her chest, tight and gripping. Talking about them gave the pain power, and most days she felt powerless already. âI got a call,â she says quietly then clears her throat to speak loud enough for him to hear. âI got a call. From the warden at...â She sets the plate down finally, licking her lips.
@wreakhavck
Moodboard || Older! Jean & Alex Light Edition.â
Moodboard || Older! Jean & Alex Dark Edition

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mxsinisterâ:
Walls shake and his fists clench enough to break his chair, and Charles is doing everything in his power to keep his family safe. The sudden burst of energy is astonishing, it almost feels like heâs recharged by the wave. When he hears the first cry, Charles wants to cry with happiness. Despite all the pain and agony Sinister put them through, the baby was alive and would be safe soon. He thoroughly believed that. I promise I will never stop looking for her if anything happens, I swear to you.
Sinister is pressing his whole body against the door to hear everything that is going on. It sounds like a massive explosion and his heart sinks in his chest. He wanted that child. Heâd done everything to get it, and yet now itâs been taken away from him. Sinister pounds on the door again, shifting all of his broken pieces back into place with ease. âWhy have you done this!â he yells at the door and tries again without success to open it. When he hears the cry, he shoves his shoulder against the barrier again. âLet me in, damn it! Why wonât you let anyone help you! You wonât keep me out forever!â
Blood has trickled from both nostrils down his neck into the collar of his shirt, but heâs still able to keep that door sealed. He breathes ragged breaths in his office, but does his best to keep that weakness from his mind. Sweetheart⌠Now tears are falling from his eyes, but he keeps his apologies to himself even though he hasnât said sorry enough. I love you so much, and I believe in you. Now, send your baby home. He truly believes this will be successful, but he also knows itâll be the last thing she does before she disappears. Whether itâs back into herself or back into the universe, heâs not sure. The only thing he knows is that thereâs nothing he can do to change the mistakes heâs made in the past, and she was only caught by Sinister because of him.
Heâll bury that mistake deep within himself just like his many others.
Phoenix isnât sure, for just a moment, that she can do it. That she can let her go. Sheâs so small, and despite the damage sheâd done to the room using her mother as a proxy, sheâs still defenseless. What if she missed entirely? Cradling her closer, trying to drone out the sound of Sinisterâs rage on the other side of the door, she whispers to her squalling daughter. âNo matter where you end up, and no matter where you go, your grandpa and your dad will find you.â Sniffling, she makes her aching body sit up straighter so that her curtain of red hair falls around them both. âYou hear that, Hope?â Her fingertips brush the cloudy hair covering the babyâs head, her heart warmer than she ever thought possible. âNo matter how far you are from them, from me, you are loved. You are so, so loved.â
When he begins to yell, Phoenix startles and looks to the door. She had to do this, she had to let her go. Thumb rubbing over the bridge above the babyâs orange eyes, she musters her strength with a shaky breath. She feels everything. The floor they were on, the wall against her back. Every shift of the air from the vent above them, moving her hair and making the papers on the desk nearby flutter. She feels the breath they share, and the way it fills their lungs. Bodies were only matter, matter could be moved. When her eyes snap back open, she feels it shift around her and the baby in her arms begins to flicker from sight. Tears well up in her throat as she watches but she doesnât want the last thing her daughter sees of her to be a sobbing mess, so she smiles through it. Smiles so hard her cheeks hurt. And then sheâs gone. Sheâs alone.
The door slowly drifts open and her exhausted gaze meets Sinisterâs. âYouâll never have her,â she says hoarsely, eyes shifting down to her fingertips as they appear to flicker out of focus. Out of reality. She smiles softly, she wasnât disappearing per se no. She was just going home too. âHeâll find you, you know.â Sheâs confident of that, she knows it with all her heart even as it searches to reunite with Jean Grey. âMy dad will find you, and heâll make you wish youâd never taken a breath in your life,â she laughs when her body becomes so thin he can see through it. Like a ghost. âBut thatâs nothing compared to what Alex is going to do to you. Sucks to suck, I guess.âÂ
Her laughter trills out as she disappears, following the same path sheâd sent her daughter on.
*gently glows*
mxsinisterâ:
Another thing to blame on himself, if only he had been there for her. He should have let her have her chance here at the school, then she wouldnât be in this situation. Now is not the time to dwell on past mistakes. He may not ever be able to right his wrongs, but he can help her save her baby and his grandchild. Charles grips his chair until his knuckles are white and he skips past her confession. He figured out that tidbit of information after he sent her away. I am going to help you keep him out. I know you can do this. You are strong and brave. Youâll save her.
Thinking heâs got her now, he raises a hand to close on her throat just enough to keep her still. He underestimated her power, all the calculations in the world could not explain her sudden burst of energy away. Sinister was siphoning her power and she shouldnât be able to hit him so hard. After he steadies himself, he runs back to the door, but it slams in his face and breaks him nose like glass. Sinister screams in pain and tries to shove the door back open, but itâs stuck like itâs been bolted shut. His muscles grow bigger on the fly and he kicks the door expecting it to open. Instead, he breaks his foot. âOpen the fucking door you bitch.â He doesnât manage to hear her say Dad, heâs too angry and he thinks sheâs talking to him. âShe needs my help!â
Ignore him. Charlesâ nose is bleeding, but he pays no attention to the pain he feels because hers is more intense. Only hers matters. Take it one step at a time, and pretend the monster isnât there.
Thighs and hands trembling, she manages to recline against the wall when she realizes she won't be able to return to her bed. She can hear him raging against the door but she has faith that it won't budge. Her dad was here to protect her, even if she couldn't see him. Alex...? she asks, whimpering when another contraction hits her and she nearly crumples to the floor. Where is he? The pain is like nothing she's ever felt before, even when she was shattered into a million pieces by Charles. But she has to concentrate, if she could concentrate then getting her daughter out of this would be the very last thing she could do on this earth.
She's covered in sweat, eyes trained on the door but not seeing it. Instead she sees Charles, her dad. Head bent over his desk, in despair and willing to fry his mind to get this done. She shuts her eyes tight when another wave of contractions hit her, skin crackling and beginning to illuminate. When she opens them she sees Hank, sitting up in bed with books poured over his lap. He looks up like he feels something, brow furrowed in a way that makes her want to touch his cheek with the gentlest of caresses. And finally, she sees him. Curled in bed around her, the real her. The real girl. The one he should have loved all along. I'm sending her home, Jean. You take care of our girl.
The monitors, beeping erratically beside the bed, are the first to go. The energy burst from her hand disintegrating it on impact. The next bursts from her chest, bright red and angry like her scream. And then they go in all directions from there, destroying the room one blast at a time until the room is full of smoke and a cry erupts from the squiggling little body that's emerged from her own. She's cradled carefully in Phoenix's hands, a full head of golden hair. Phoenix laughs, feeling her energy dwindling as the pounding on the door only increases. "You're a daddy's girl then huh? I think he would have approved of that show, baby." The little whine quickly followed by a yawn is more than enough incentive for her to cradle the newborn to her chest. Thank you, Daddy. Swallowing hard, she looks to the door again. Promise me, if this doesn't work. Promise me you'll look for her.

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mxsinisterâ:Â
The feeling of hopelessness had been with him for awhile now, his daughter had been begging and pleading with him to hear her. Help her, but he couldnât. They were only dreams. His mind playing tricks on him during his withdrawal and recuperation. This time, he had been sitting at his desk with his eyes wide open and the call was much too clear to be a figment of his imagination. Jean! Where are you!? Her despair and desperation is haunting, and suddenly everything else falls away. Sweetheart, breathe. Youâll need a level head to get that madman out.
Sinister canât feel anything different, canât get into her head because it wasnât in his power. The smile on his face matches his namesake because he knows it canât be much longer now. He swats away a few of the items she throws, but one he fails to dodge completely grazes his chin. Sinister snarls as he rubs the blood off his chin, âYelling and throwing things at the doctor is not good for the baby.â He moves toward her to grab her wrists, but is unable to get any hand on her. Despite her waning strength, she is still quick to escape his grasp. âStand still, I donât want to harm the child!âÂ
Phoenix has felt no hope, not a drip of it, throughout this entire ordeal. Until she heard her dadâs response. Her heart in her throat, she manages to hide her gasp as fear when Sinister moves closer. His anger does rattle her though, it terrifies her. In this place her powers were weakened, nearly nonexistent, and he could kill her one-handed if he wanted to. She had no doubt that once her baby was born, he had no problem doing so. But with Charlesâ help... She takes that deep breath that he tells her to, trembling as she manages to evade Sinisterâs grasp once more. But she makes a mistake, her back hits the wall and she realizes she has nowhere else to go.
It was me, Dad. She tells him, because itâs her last time. Phoenix was me the whole time, and now heâs going to take my baby. A new round of tears fill her eyes to the brim, spilling over as she sobs when Sinister moves closer to her. Heâs going to take my baby. Thereâs blood pouring down her legs now, time was running out. The pain, excruciating as it is, is actually the only thing motivating her. Before Sinister gets close enough to touch her again, her hand juts out and a psionic wave big enough to total a building hits him. But instead he's just sent flying out of the room, his back meeting the wall in the hallway. Sliding down to the floor, the only thing Phoenix can hear is her own panicked breathing. "Dad..." she whimpers out loud. Her thin breath turns to a scream. "She's coming!"
mxsinisterâ:
âOuch!â he laughs through the pain, easily shifting his bones back into place and healing on the spot. He was akin to their enemy Apocalypse. It was that mutant, in fact, that bestowed these powers upon him. Sighing, he circled around her to pick up a piece of fruit from the tray and pop it in his mouth, âSweet⌠innocent little bird.â Mr. Sinister cracks a wicked smile and continues, âOr should I call you⌠Jeannie? Isnât our dear little girl in need of nourishment too?â
Sinister wasnât going to hurt the little girl contrary to her belief. He needed just a bit of her DNA, a small little sample of blood, so he could study it. Sinister wanted to keep her, raise her as his own and see how a Summers child might grow up mingled with this Phoenix. âWe both know sheâs ready to come out, but youâŚâ his mouth twitches with annoyance, âyou just wonât let her out yet.â
The way he says her name, her real name, makes her mouth taste sour. Through the overwhelming, physical pain, a more prominent ache breaks through. A deep yearning to be in the arms of those she loved. The ones who called her that because they adored her, not to tease her and ridicule her. Not to get under her skin and make her feel sick. She wanted Alex, she wanted Hank, and even Scott. She wanted her dad. Daddy... she tries, for the millionth time in a row since sheâd been captured. Daddy please, can you hear me?
Her bottom lip is trembling, her eyes filling with water. It hurts, it hurts so bad and it takes every ounce of her strength to keep her daughter in the safety of her body. âGet. Out.â She speaks through gritted teeth, watching him closely for any small movement that would indicate he was trying to touch her again. She knows sheâs getting to him, that heâs running out of patience. Soon heâd show her the monster underneath, the monster that wanted to hurt her baby. âGet out, get out, get out!â She yells it louder each time, throwing everything she can get her hands on at him.Â