X-MEN
ETERNITY
THE CROSSROADS
by
R. John Burke
(Note: X-Men is a copyright of Marvel comics. Just
fan fiction, no infringement intended.)
***************
FIVE: CUCKOOS
Phoebe Cuckoo was getting irritated; things had proceeded so well at first, and now they'd begun to drag. There were like a billion X-Men and they all had to have their little reunions and settle their grudges and meanwhile the Multiverse hung by a thread and nobody cared!
"Next time, we should just recruit Thor," she muttered.
Her companion glanced a question at her. She shrugged and dealt the cards. They barely fit in Barnabas Cole's huge hands, and he looked at them quizzically.
"One more time," she said. "We're trying to match, so if you want a card, you ask me for it, and if I don't have it, I'll say 'Go-- ARGH!!!!"
Barnabas frowned. "'Go argh?' That makes no sense."
Phoebe wasn't listening. She was on her knees, clawing at the sides of her head, trying to absorb the frantic shouting:
--HELP! HELP ME!!!--
"...Sophie?" she whispered. She'd feared Esme had killed the group-mind's leader. But it was definitely Sophie's sense. She searched harder...
--HELP NOW! It's almost too late! To me, girls! TO ME!!!--
FLASH. Like that, Phoebe found herself in the place between time where the 5-in-1 met. Sophie's sense was there, but faint. A moment later, Celeste was with them too, although even weaker. She, who had fought the Slayer directly (* in X-Force #5), was still very weak. But she had not left her sisters yet, as Phoebe feared.
She broke down, tears streaming from her eyes in real life and in the vision. "You're alive! I... I thought she had... oh, Sophie, I was so afraid..."
"So afraid, you kicked her butt," Sophie said. "I was there. (* in Uncanny #6)"
"I didn't mean--"
"*That* was cool," said Celeste.
"Mindee. Is Mindee... did she escape, too?"
"Don't speak of Mindee now. Too much to do. Listen carefully, Phoebe, we're almost out of time..."
A quick explanation later, Phoebe flashed back to the real world, knowing what she had to do. Barnabas was still with her, helping her into a chair, a concerned expression on his face.
"Little girl... Phoebe... are you...?"
"Call Scott," she whispered. "Call Scott NOW! We might be too late..."
****
Paige Guthrie sat on the bed in Xavier's Mansion that she'd never expected to use again, spilling her guts to the last person she would have expected to be telling her problems:
"I dunno what to make of any of it anymore. Bein' with Jono again, it felt... well, irritating, but it was... like what should've been. Like we should've gotten together a long time ago, but little things-- stupid things-- kept comin' between us. And I kept wantin' to know what it could've been like, y'know? I guess everybody wonders about their first love.
"An' then there's Warren, who was... everything I ever wanted. Everything *anybody* could want. It's almost like it was a dream. A wonderful dream, but... but if I can't trust him, maybe it's time to wake up, right? Okay, he was tryin' to protect me. But you protect a *child*. You *trust* your lover. So maybe that's all I'll ever be to him, is a--"
Her companion burst out laughing. Paige sent her a dangerous glare.
"I'm sorry," said Monet St. Croix, who sat beside the bed. "You were *serious?*"
"Yes, I was serious! Aw, I don't know why I'm talkin' to you anyway, except Jubes is all wound up an' Annie's too busy an' Sam had to talk to Wolfsbane about somethin' and... and we're old friends, aren't we? Theoretically? In a 'you-piss-me-off-but-we-still-hang-out-together' kinda way?"
"Of course we are, Paige. I'm very fond of you." Monet patted her hand. "So I'll give you some advice... listen carefully, and please don't think me too blunt: You... are... an... idiot."
"Thanks a lot!" Paige yanked the hand away, annoyed.
Monet lifted the picture of Warren off her bedside table. "I will always have a place in my heart for Jono, as should you. But look at this man: He's wealthy, he's distinguished, he knows how to behave at gatherings that do not involve throwing darts or raising barns... and he looks like *this*. He's Brad Pitt with wings, for goodness' sake! Somehow, Paige-- and the precise chain of events leaves me mystified to this day-- somehow you hit the jackpot! And you'd cast that aside over TRUST? What is the matter with you?"
"You don't know anything!" Paige said. "If you'd ever been with somebody you *really* cared about--"
"I cared about Ev," Monet said. "He's dead now. That's all trust will get you-- regrets. I advise grasping the brass ring and holding tight."
Paige frowned at the other young woman, wondering if she'd just seen genuine sentiment or merely a new layer of shallowness. She didn't have to guess-- the doorbell rang just then.
Monet answered it; speak of the Angel, it was Warren.
"I'll let myself out," she said. "I'm sure you two have a lot to discuss. And if it doesn't work out, well... X-Corporation has my number, Mr. Worthington. Call me anytime."
Then she was gone, and Warren frowned after her. "She didn't say anything too... inflammatory, I hope?"
"Actually, coming from Monet, that was subtlety." Paige offered a weak smile. "C'mon in."
Warren did so, arranging his wings somewhat awkwardly around the chair. He sat with his head in his hands for a few moments before managing: "I'm sorry."
"I know you are."
"I hope we can... I swear, Paige, I would never have hurt them on purpose. You know that, don't you?"
"I used to," she said.
"Do you..." Warren looked away. "Do you love Jono? Honestly?"
"Honestly? No, I don't think so." She frowned. "But right now, I don't know if I love you either. How can you love someone if it hurts to look at them?"
"I think that's how you know you *do* love them."
Paige almost smiled. "Still slick, huh, Mr. Angel? Is that all I was to you? A dumb country gal you could fast-talk into--"
"No! Never! Paige, you ought to know that isn't true!"
She grabbed both his hands and made him look at her. "Then why didn't you tell me the truth? Why, *really?*"
"Because I didn't want you to be ashamed of me. I wanted you to keep thinking I was better than I was." Warren squeezed his eyes shut. "You thought I was some kind of knight in shining armor... I know what I am. I am the *least* of the X-Men... even with a healing factor, what can I do? Flap my wings. Really impressive. I'm a hero by association.
"And then there's women... whatever you read in the papers, I've lost every woman I ever *really* wanted. I didn't deserve most of them. You're young and alive and I feel like a fossil compared to you. I'm a fraud, Paige. I'm money and pretense and not much underneath, and I *know* it."
"I don't," Paige said. "I don't know anything like that."
"He knew exactly which of us to pick on... the one without the guts to stand up to him." Warren stood up and turned. "When we get Jono back, you ought to see what happens with him. He's the one who deserves you."
He started to walk away; he didn't get very far. Paige almost knocked him off his feet with a desperate hug, followed by an even fiercer kiss.
"I never knew you felt like that," she said, and kissed him again. "I don't care about deserving... you don't *deserve* a human being. You just *want* them. I want you."
Warren held her close, her heart pounding against his, and then said in a quiet voice: "Do you want me enough to marry me?"
"I-- what?" Paige looked up at him, astonished. He wasn't kidding. "Wait. You-- what?"
"If there's one thing all of this has proved, it's that I've wasted a lot of time, and there's no way to know what will happen next. So..." Warren Worthington knelt on the ground in front of her and took her hand. "Please marry me, Paige Guthrie. I mean, assuming your mother approves. Because frankly... she frightens me."
Paige laughed. "Sam might have to approve, too. He's kinda upset with you."
"Is that a yes?"
"That's a--"
The intercom buzzed. Paige wondered who she'd ever offended in her life to acquire such rotten timing.
"Let it go," Warren said, "and answer my question."
"Warren, I..."
"X-Men emergency!" said Scott's voice, on the override. "Assemble in the Danger Room. Emergency means NOW, people!"
His tone of voice suggested he wasn't joking.
"Emergency means now," Paige said weakly, and hurried out the door.
****
Scott Summers had addressed teams of X-Men almost every day of his adult life, but he didn't think he'd ever seen quite so *many*. That was why he chose to hold the briefing in what was left of the Danger Room. There wasn't space anywhere else.
At least three generations of active X-Men stood before him, along with members of X-Factor, X-Force, X-everything. If Scott was going to war, at least he had no shortage of soldiers. One face which he had expected, however, was missing: A familiar scowl beneath an odd haircut, puffing a cigar. Even with the rivalry between them, it was a little disconcerting to be going into something like this without Wolverine-- almost like a toothache Scott had grown used to suddenly wasn't there anymore.
Nothing to be done about it. He raised his hands for attention. "Everyone please settle down! Phoebe, tell them what you told me."
The blonde girl cleared her throat. She was palpably nervous-- wanted no part of this-- and spoke in barely a squeak at first, but gained confidence with every breath:
"I know where the Scarlet Witch is," she said. "The Slayer's sent her to the Crossroads."
"Dr. Strange's Crossroads?" asked Bobby.
"That's right. It's a sort of second home to him. His first home-- his original vessel-- was destroyed by Mr. Summers, um, I mean the other Mr. Summers-- Havok-- when they fought."
"Nicely done, mon ami," said Gambit. "An' merci beaucoup, savin' a piece fo' the rest of us."
"I'm 'The other Mr. Summers?'" Alex wondered aloud.
"He's looking for a new body," Phoebe said.
"I thought he had lots of bodies?" James Proudstar asked.
"Selfish of him, askin' another," said Theresa Cassidy.
"Nah," said Jamie Madrox, "I do it all the time."
"There's a difference between a body and a vessel," Phoebe said. "He can absorb lots of people, but the vessel is like his home base in a reality. In his own timeline, it was Merlin. In the future, it was Storm. And here--"
"Here it was supposed to be me," Bobby said. "Until my friend Barnabas stopped it."
All eyes turned to the hulking newcomer in the back of the room. "I did?"
"You're a precog, aren't you?" said Scott. "In the timeline Bobby saw, Professor Xavier used you, Bobby, and Jubilee to set into motion a plan against it."
Emma said, "By keying a telepathic suggestion on a particular phrase of yours-- your conviction that our Mr. Proudstar was going to kill you-- as in fact he was, in their timeline-- they were able to send a message to Robert's past self. Your precognition became a conduit by which they sent him dreams, warning him, so their future would not come to pass."
"...Huh?" Barnabas said.
Metralla elbowed him in the ribs. "Just take a bow an' shut up, amigo. We'll get the Young Reader's version from somebody later."
"That thing called me its mother," Jubilee said. (* Uncanny #6) "What does that mean?"
"It means it thinks the visions are self-fulfilling," Phoebe said. "That it will get Mr. Drake *because* the dreams you sent from the future made him amp up his powers, becoming the perfect vessel. That's still very possible. No offense, but you maybe sorta killed us all."
Jubilee had been about to pop an impressive bubble; instead, she nearly swallowed her chewing gum. Monet helpfully pounded her back until she coughed it up.
"*Serious* buzzkill," she wheezed.
"You took a shot," Scott said. "It might still work. As of right now, we want to let it focus on Bobby as its new vessel..."
"Why's that?" Dazzler asked.
"Well, because we'll probably have to *kill* the vessel."
Echoes of "What?!" went up around the room. Lorna and Jubilee appeared particularly concerned. The Iceman shuffled his feet self-consciously.
"It's not like that, gang. He's got to be killed with metal. That's the deal. The hope is that after I'm destroyed, taking him with me, I'll be able to... reform. I am an Omega. Anything's possible."
"Yeah, but what if you can't?" Jubes said. "Scott, will ya tell this spaz we're not just gonna *whack* him?"
"Actually, Jubilee, we are," Scott replied. "He's got a chance to survive. Nobody else does. And as Field Leader, he signed off on the plan."
"Well, he's crazy! He thinks 'Resident Evil' is a date movie!"
"Hey!" said Bobby.
"It's really not," Lorna agreed.
"Are you gonna take your battle plans from a guy like that?"
Hank said, "You know, Bob, she has a point. There may be a less hazardous method--"
"THERE'S NO TIME!!!" Phoebe shouted, bouncing the warning off every mind in the room. Even Scott was stunned. Into the sudden but welcome quiet, she said: "That's what I'm trying to tell you. The timetable is: Right now, this instant, or never. Do you *get* that?"
"What's the rush?" Warren asked.
"Wanda," said Alex, understanding.
Scott nodded. "That's right. He's trying to replace Merlin with Wanda Maximoff. If he succeeds, well, the House of M might just be the beginning."
"That was Wanda's attempt at making a *perfect* world," Emma reminded the others. "Would anyone like to see her take a stab at Hell?"
"I will stop her," Quicksilver said, stepping to the front of the group. "Scott, just get me there. I know she'll listen."
"Alright," said a new voice, from the back. "You're on my team."
They all turned-- Jean Grey stood behind them, half-supporting Wolverine, who promptly shook her off and stood, a little shakily, under his own power. Jean addressed the group:
"I'm the only one who might stop Wanda by force, and Pietro's the only one who might get through to her. So that means--"
"There's one more," Dazzler said. She turned to the blue, elfin girl standing next to her. "Isn't that right, hon?"
Nocturne stepped up. "She's right. I should go."
Pietro glared at her. "Sorry-- who might you be?"
"Your niece, *Uncle* Pietro."
"Don't be absurd! You're-- an elf of some kind!"
"Yes, thanks for noticing. I'm also your niece."
"She's-- what-- the alternate-reality daughter of Wanda and Nightcrawler, right?" Bishop asked. "But what good is that? Our Wanda doesn't even know you."
"She's my mother," Nocturne said. "I would know her anytime, anyplace. You have to trust me, I can save her."
"Wanda has enough trouble without introducing this--" Pietro began.
"I had a daughter I never knew," Sean Cassidy said. "Meeting her changed my perspective on a lot o' things. I say, give her a chance."
Theresa squeezed his arm. Pietro still glared, as though he suspected Sean had taken the opposite side, simply because it was his.
Cable-- or rather, the alternate Cable who'd come back with Jean-- cleared his throat. "If alternate realities didn't count, half of us in this room would be screwed. The kid should go, and so should I. I can reinforce Jean with--"
"No, Nathan," Jean said. "I have another job for you."
"But--"
"Trust me."
Cable nodded and stepped back. Scott took a deep breath.
"When we fight it, metal will be a primary asset. That means Colossus, Sabretooth, and Husk. They'll have to--"
"And me," Wolverine said. "You weren't gonna leave me out, were ya, Slim?"
Scott frowned. "I didn't think you were ready for--"
"I'll pull my weight. You know I'm your man for this job."
The two locked gazes momentarily, and Cyclops nodded. "Logan leads the assault team. We'll begin when the last students have been evacuated. Until then, do whatever you do to make your peace before a fight. Emma will contact some of you with assignments; if you don't get one, remain alert and report anything unusual. If contacted by the Slayer, it's vitally important to remain focused, refusing to think about anything that might conjure strong emotions. Any other business?"
"Just mine," Phoebe said. "Wish us luck, all of you."
Nobody understood what she meant by that-- but by the time they turned to ask her, the girl had collapsed.
****
Nowhere
"What-- do I *do*, exactly?" Wanda Maximoff asked.
The shadows whirled and pulsated all around her. It was very confusing. A voice within them said: --Nothing. Simply open yourself to me.--
"I... I want to, but something keeps holding me back."
Esme made a face. With almost any other mind, the Slayer would have walked right in and taken control, but the Scarlet Witch's power had grown so strong that even he didn't wish to take his chances in a straight-out fight. Deceiving her was better, but if she would not be deceived...
"We'll talked about this, dear," Esme said. "It's the only way. I promise it won't hurt, not even a little."
"No. I can't think straight. I'm not ready."
--You must help us, Wanda Maximoff. Otherwise all will be lost-- innocents will suffer, as you and Pietro have. I know you will not allow that.--
"No, of course not, but..."
"Don't you remember?" Esme breathed. "You're the Scarlet Witch. You're an Avenger. These people have no right to treat you like a common enemy. You'll make them sorry they did."
"I-- yes, I am angry, but I shouldn't..."
--With your abilities and my will, Wanda Maximoff, there is nothing we cannot do. We can set all this right, correct all your mistakes. Isn't that what you *really* want?--
"I... yes," Wanda said, and closed her eyes. "I'm so tired. I can't argue anymore. Do it quickly."
"There's my good girl," Esme said, her eyes glowing bright.
"Well, I'm glad *someone's* been a good girl. You've been very naughty indeed, haven't you, Esme?"
She whirled. Phoebe stood on the road before her, with Celeste just behind her. Their senses simmered with anger-- and they took it out on the Slayer, hitting it dead-center with a bolt of telepathic energy. Caught off-guard while starting to absorb Wanda, it drew back, shrieking:
--GET THEM! Get those filthy beggars away from me, Esme! This is what you swore to do for me, now FINISH THE JOB!--
"Delighted," Esme said. Stepping forward, she replied to Phoebe's attack in kind, with a mindblast that would have reduced a non-telepath to a babbling idiot.
Phoebe fielded it in stride, with help from Celeste, and reflected it back at her. She'd never expected this one to be so strong, but Esme knew she was the stronger. If she could only get her bearings--
But she couldn't, and suddenly she knew why. Because she was sharing brain-space with an ungrateful brat of a sibling who fought her every step of the way. Screaming in frustration, she tried to obliterate the parasite as she should have done from the beginning--
But it was too much, fighting Sophie from within and the others from without. Esme felt herself weakening even before she heard her sister's voice:
--GET OUT OF MY MIND,-- Sophie cried, and pushed with all her telepathic might.
--Very well,-- Esme thought at her. --I will. Be right back...--
She fled from Sophie's body, all the way back to the future timeline where her body slept. She would return to herself, regroup, and--
FLASH. Suddenly she was in the room between time, facing all three of her remaining sisters.
"It's over, Esme," Phoebe said.
"You've betrayed us for the last time," said Celeste.
"I tried to warn you," said Sophie, looking away.
"Warn me? About what?"
They turned as one, and Sophie followed their gaze-- to where a fifth sister stepped into their midst. Mindee met her sister's eyes and smiled.
"Hello, Esme. Miss me?"
"But-- you're dead! I saw the Madrox kill you! (* eXcaliber #6)"
"Yes. That was no fun. For my *next* vacation, I want to go to Six Flags."
Esme seethed, ignoring the laughter that flooded her mind: "Lying brat! WHERE ARE YOU?! I'll destroy--"
"Don't you know?" Mindee said. "I'm inside you."
"You-- what?"
But Esme could already feel it, another presence in her own body, taking control, forcing her *out* even as she tried to gather herself...
"But... no! I don't understand! You couldn't--"
"Thank Miss Grey," Mindee said. "When your friend ruined *my* body, she simply helped me borrow yours. Oh-- but I'm afraid it's not a duplex. I hope that's not a problem for you."
Esme turned from her, to the others, feeling panic set in as her essence found nowhere in all the physical worlds to go.
"But-- sisters-- please! You can't-- you wouldn't--!"
"Mindee," said Sophie, "make a wish."
"But-- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Sophie pulled from one side and Mindee from the other. The effect was quite spectacular-- at least to Esme, who felt every agonizing moment of her soul being torn apart.
In her agony, she cried out to the Slayer-- to her only ally. She knew that with his power, she could fight back. She could punish them. She could be unique, as she deserved...
--This looks like a family dispute, my dear,-- he said. --Thank you for the diversion, though.--
*But you promised,* Esme thought desperately. *You said you loved me!*
--You are nothing to me,-- the Slayer replied, and that was the last thing she ever heard.
****
July
2032
Reality #502
The body of a small blonde girl gasped and sat straight up in the tent where Bishop had left her. Their ally Callisto, who had remained behind to care for her, rushed to her side.
"Esme! You okay, girl? You were out for--"
"Mindee, actually," said the teenager, taking her first breaths in her new body. "And yes. I'm just wonderful, thank you for asking."