Phoenix

Alex hates this. He hates not knowing what’s going on with her. She wouldn’t talk to him. Ironic for him to think so, considering their history, but he couldn’t just let it go. She was avoiding talking about it. “Time for what?” he asks. Time to do something? Or… What? The last time she left to fix things… No, Alex wouldn’t think about that. Not right now. “Jeannie…”

He sighs. “We have to,” he nods. His thumb brushes her cheek lightly and kisses her forehead. “Before it all falls apart and no one can fix it. But you… You need to talk to me. Tell me what you’re going to do.”

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. “I can’t.” How did he not see? Didn’t he remember? When they lost Hope, the destruction she’d caused... She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t use the power hiding inside of her.

“I can’t,” she says it harder this time, like she’s accusing him. There’s 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. 

“If you knew…” He has a feeling she knows more than she’s letting on. Or has a theory at the very least. “Talk to me, Jeannie. Let me in too.” 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 who’d grown up in the mansion with him, who remembered everything he did, who he fell in love with. He’d refused to give up searching for her when the ‘real’ Jean was discovered. She was real too.

“We can’t do nothing,” he murmurs. There were many many times that he would gladly give up the hero life. But he couldn’t let the world burn and stand by. Especially not while his children fought.

Jean had noticed it. When she’d 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 she’d picked to the dirt, running around the corner of the house to find her. She didn’t see Hope, but she did see him. A much younger him, happier too. 

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 weren’t 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. “It’s time...” she whispers back when he lets her know he’s done hiding. Her eyes are screwed shut tight, tears pooling at the corner. “I think...” She sniffles, hand gripping his shirt like she’s afraid he’ll run off when she tells him. “I know that it’s falling apart. And if it is that means...” They could go back, they could move forward. They could fix the world. And find their children.

Total silence. Alex likes that even less. He stands, pacing to the window before peering out, rubbing his jaw absently. But Jean’s 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. “What do you mean?” he asks quietly. “Jeannie? What is it?”

Jean knows she’s 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 wasn’t Jean at all and the Phoenix always. 

She wants to run and hide, lock herself in their room like she’d been doing for stretches at a time. But she had a feeling he wouldn’t let her now that he knew the kids were involved. “She won’t talk to me...” she whispers. “I think it’s because she knows where they are, and she thinks if I knew too... I don’t know.” Her counterpart, the one found at the bottom of the lake they’d died in years ago, was the real Jean Grey. Recognized as such by people she’d grown up with. Which meant she was the leader of the remaining X-Men, not her.

He’s out. But he wasn’t coming home. “Some organisation?” Alex echoes. That sounded ominous, especially given that the prison wouldn’t 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 didn’t sit well. He could feel that pit of worry in his stomach.

“Have you heard from the other kids yet then?” he asks. This was getting to be too much. He couldn’t just sit here. “Any of them?” 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 Anna’s face the moment she threw Arlo from the facility and into Jean’s arms before being pulled back in. The look of horror on her face when she knew she’d never see her own kids again. 

She pushes it from her mind, though it’s clear in her eyes that she’d returned to the place Alex had rescued her from. In her mind, they were still there. They’d 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. “No, total silence. Not Rachel, or Olivier, or Ray.” She’s trying to keep her voice calm but it rises at the end of her sentences before she catches herself. “And Jean,” 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. “...she won’t talk to me.”

Alex was getting restless. As much as he tried, he couldn’t keep his family safe, and it was becoming increasingly clear that he couldn’t 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. 

He looks up when Jean speaks, his body tensing. She didn’t need to finish that sentence, he knows where. “And? What did they say?” Alex and his son didn’t always see eye to eye. In fact, the often fought. But no one could say Alex didn’t love all his children, his son included.

It didn’t 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 didn’t 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 couldn’t do it again, she couldn’t 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. “He’s out,” she says tentatively. “But he isn’t coming home. He... They wouldn’t tell me where he is going, just that some organization recruited him. Along with Olivier and some of the other kids.” She didn’t mention Rachel, not yet.

Jean stares at him, idly drying a plate that wasn’t 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. “I got a call,” she says quietly then clears her throat to speak loud enough for him to hear. “I got a call. From the warden at...” She sets the plate down finally, licking her lips.

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 he’s 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. He’d done everything to get it, and yet now it’s been taken away from him. Sinister pounds on the door again, shifting all of his broken pieces back into place with ease. “Why have you done this!” 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. “Let me in, damn it! Why won’t you let anyone help you! You won’t keep me out forever!”

Blood has trickled from both nostrils down his neck into the collar of his shirt, but he’s 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 hasn’t 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 it’ll be the last thing she does before she disappears. Whether it’s back into herself or back into the universe, he’s not sure. The only thing he knows is that there’s nothing he can do to change the mistakes he’s made in the past, and she was only caught by Sinister because of him.

He’ll bury that mistake deep within himself just like his many others.

Phoenix isn’t sure, for just a moment, that she can do it. That she can let her go. She’s so small, and despite the damage she’d done to the room using her mother as a proxy, she’s still defenseless. What if she missed entirely? Cradling her closer, trying to drone out the sound of Sinister’s rage on the other side of the door, she whispers to her squalling daughter. “No matter where you end up, and no matter where you go, your grandpa and your dad will find you.” Sniffling, she makes her aching body sit up straighter so that her curtain of red hair falls around them both. “You hear that, Hope?” Her fingertips brush the cloudy hair covering the baby’s head, her heart warmer than she ever thought possible. “No matter how far you are from them, from me, you are loved. You are so, so loved.”

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 baby’s 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 doesn’t 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 she’s gone. She’s alone.

The door slowly drifts open and her exhausted gaze meets Sinister’s. “You’ll never have her,” she says hoarsely, eyes shifting down to her fingertips as they appear to flicker out of focus. Out of reality. She smiles softly, she wasn’t disappearing per se no. She was just going home too. “He’ll find you, you know.” She’s confident of that, she knows it with all her heart even as it searches to reunite with Jean Grey. “My dad will find you, and he’ll make you wish you’d never taken a breath in your life,” she laughs when her body becomes so thin he can see through it. Like a ghost. “But that’s nothing compared to what Alex is going to do to you. Sucks to suck, I guess.” 

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 wouldn’t 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. You’ll save her.

Thinking he’s 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 shouldn’t 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 it’s stuck like it’s been bolted shut. His muscles grow bigger on the fly and he kicks the door expecting it to open. Instead, he breaks his foot. “Open the fucking door you bitch.” He doesn’t manage to hear her say Dad, he’s too angry and he thinks she’s talking to him. “She needs my help!”

Ignore him. Charles’ 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 isn’t 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 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 couldn’t. 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. You’ll need a level head to get that madman out.

Sinister can’t feel anything different, can’t get into her head because it wasn’t in his power. The smile on his face matches his namesake because he knows it can’t 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, “Yelling and throwing things at the doctor is not good for the baby.” 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. “Stand still, I don’t want to harm the child!” 

Phoenix has felt no hope, not a drip of it, throughout this entire ordeal. Until she heard her dad’s 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 Charles’ help... She takes that deep breath that he tells her to, trembling as she manages to evade Sinister’s grasp once more. But she makes a mistake, her back hits the wall and she realizes she has nowhere else to go.

“Ouch!” 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, “Sweet… innocent little bird.” Mr. Sinister cracks a wicked smile and continues, “Or should I call you… Jeannie? Isn’t our dear little girl in need of nourishment too?”

Sinister wasn’t 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. “We both know she’s ready to come out, but you…” his mouth twitches with annoyance, “you just won’t let her out yet.”

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 she’d 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. “Get. Out.” She speaks through gritted teeth, watching him closely for any small movement that would indicate he was trying to touch her again. She knows she’s getting to him, that he’s running out of patience. Soon he’d show her the monster underneath, the monster that wanted to hurt her baby. “Get out, get out, get out!” She yells it louder each time, throwing everything she can get her hands on at him.