8

Did she really think she could win a will contest with him? Did she know him at all?

Tired of waiting for Jean to get her bullshit in order, Bob stripped down to his undies (originally silk boxers, but he changed them with a thought to a bright orange speedo, just to piss her off - was there anything worse than a man in a florescent marble bag?) and went for a swim in the water. It was blood warm and not so much salty as coppery, which again brought blood to mind. It wouldn't have surprised him if it was just that, the plasma of some massive being. He sang to himself as he let himself float on the surface, not just to entertain himself, but because it would drown her out. “It’s your right and your ability, to become my perfect enemy …”

She had been bitching at him for some time, when he started stripping and when he dove in the lilac water, but finally, when he surfaced after a particularly long dive (how weird was it that there was nothing at the bottom of this "ocean"?), he found her glaring at him from the edge of the shore, hands placed firmly on her hips. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing? Do you think this is a vacation?"

He treaded water and stared back at her placidly, his headache receding. He would get his power back long before her, but that was the difference between being born "divine" and being born Human - the Human would always be at a disadvantage, simply because they had an actual physical form. "I think - no, I know - you're bullshitting me, so until you're in a mood to be honest, I'm having a swim. You should try it sometime. Very relaxing."

Her glare was unrelenting, but it only made him chuckle. Was that it? Did she think that was going to work? You didn't get to be as old as he was and not be able to take such a minor, inconsequential thing.

She turned away in disgust, but she paused on her way up the beach, shoulders sagging as she realized that she had no choice but to be honest with him sooner or later. "Osiris."

"What?"

"I think I pissed off Osiris."

At least she finally admitted it. "I know."

She looked back at him sharply, something like murder in her eyes. "You knew? Then why - "

"Honey, Xiuh was dead; he offed himself, or at least attempted to. For gods, it sometimes isn't nearly as permanent as they'd wish it to be. Sy, being not just a death god but a prissy, vindictive one, was probably the only one stupid enough to bring the crazy fire god back." He started to walk towards the shore, figuring his chance for a good swim was now over. "He knew that, being an avatar god, he would be able to pull Cammy's powers away from you. Of course, Xiuh probably underestimated the changes Cammy's already wrought in you."

Her eyes were wide, almost Human in their general surprise. "Did - did you just walk on water?"

He looked down. He was now on the shore again, the gentle tide lapping at his ankles. "Possibly. It's an alternate dimension, hon - we can do whatever we want." Of course, if she was in her right mind totally, she would have known he could master the realm of the physical in almost any dimension, because - and there it was again - he was technically energy. Energy didn't respond to gravity in the same way as the more corporeal.

She took that in, and he could see her clearly decide to just let this one go. "What do you mean the changes in me?"

He shrugged expansively, holding out his arms to encompass the beach and the whole wide world, then he started to get dressed. He willed himself dry before stepping into his trousers. "Seriously? Come on, Jean, it's just us. No need to play dumb."

"Don't you dare call me dumb!"

"I didn't; I said you were playin' it. Do you really think you're the same person you were before Cammy took you over?"

"Yes, of course I am."

He scoffed, pulling his shirt on. He changed the printing on the front to read "I spent all my money on beer and whores", mainly just to tick her off. "What's that Earth phrase? 'Absolute power corrupts absolutely'. You know, that's true in any dimension."

She crossed her arms over her chest, hips locked, anchoring her to the ground in a very stubborn posture. "Are you admitting to being corrupt?"

That made him snicker. He just knew she was going to say that. "Of course I'm corrupt. Think how worse I'd be if I actually had absolute power."

"Don't you?"

"Gods no. The Powers That Be neutered me, for lack of a better term. I'm powerful, but they can all kick my ass; they made sure of that, believe me. I'm gonna be on parole for ... well, hell, if it's up to them, until they destroy me."

"Is there any way to hasten that?"

Again, that made him laugh. He found her bile and hatred pretty funny, because while he deserved it from many people, he didn't deserve it from her. Well, not really. "You're out of control, Jean. And if even head up his ass Sy can see that, you're in real trouble."

Anger flared in her eyes, almost bringing the quiescent flames back to life. But she refused to take the bait. "Why were you kicked out of the PTB's, Bob? Couldn't they stand you either?"

Did she really think he was going to take the bait? Well, there was room for a lesson here. "You know what it means to be a god, sweetheart? It means you can't have any humanity. And please note, I didn't say don't - I said can't. You run in a different circle, you're on another level, and they are like pets to us. Loyal dogs and good cats we scratch on the head, ones we sometimes give a special treat to, or ones we kick for no reason at all except we're pissed off and we need to take it out on something. Generally we just ignore them; we hear the barking peripherally, but it's never loud enough to be worthy of our attention. We live on a different plane; they might as well be some primitive alien life forms."

She raised her chin slightly, as if trying to look down her nose at him in the most literal sense. "So maybe you're inhuman, but -"

"No, you've just driven past the point. You know what my weakness is? I'm too Human. I find the pleasures of the flesh far more intoxicating than the intangibility of the non-corporeal. It makes me primitive and offensive to most gods, a disgusting sort of mongrel, an embarrassment."

"I see their point."

"I bet you do. You're more like them than I've ever been."

At first she looked flattered, but then the confusion set in. "Wait - what's that supposed to mean?"

"Ask yourself this: would the old Jean have left Scott to die? Would she have fucked around with Logan's feelings because it was fun? Would she switch sides capriciously because she was bored and had absolutely nothing better to do? You had a dark side you repressed madly, but come on - this is ridiculous.”

Now she was furious. The anger was coming off her in waves, and he bet if she had her powers right now, she’d have tried to blow up his head. “You hypocritical piece of shit -”

“How am I a hypocrite? I’m done things I regret in my life - all of them - and I do my best to atone for them where I can. How do you atone to Scott when he’s dead? Have you told Logan yet that you really loved fucking around with him, but you’re never gonna feel the same way about him that he feels about you? You’ve done nothing but act like a perfect ass since you took up Cammy’s mantle; in other words, you’ve been acting like a perfect god. Maybe this was the big break you’ve been waiting for all your life.”

She actually started stalking towards him, but he materialized a beer bottle in his hand, and she stopped, clearly weighing the odds. He was re-acquiring his powers much faster now, and as far as he could tell, she was steady state with her miniscule amount. There’d be no fight here. It would be a joke, and she would have no hope of winning. But the hate still made her eyes burn like embers. “You dare to bring that up? How would you feel if I mentioned your son?”

Actually, he had more than one, but he knew exactly which one she was referring to, and he took a pull off his beer to hide his instinctive grimace. Well, everybody had to have at least one big, bad skeleton in their closet; this was doubly true when it came to families. “Mention him all you want. I did what I had to do to protect others. I’m sorry it came to that, but it did, and there was nothing else could be done. I don’t quite see this as equivalent to freeing Kali to kill me and take out Logan.”

“Killing Logan was never part of the deal!” She exploded, throwing her arms out violently to encompass their limited little world. “And I put that bitch away as soon as I realized that killing Logan was the only thing we could do to keep you off Earth for a while. So don’t you dare tell me I don’t care about my friends, because I do.”

“Tell that to Scott.”

“Why don’t you tell Logan how you’re conditioning him to kill me.”

That made him raise an eyebrow at her, in what he hoped was his most Spock like fashion. “Are you barmy? Wait, yes, you are. I’m not conditioning him to do shit.”

“I’ve seen many possible outcomes, Bob. And in slightly more than half, you kill me in Logan’s body … or try.”

He shook his head, belatedly remembering to dry his hair. “Don’t you know anything about quantum physics? Simply by observing the event, you change it. That’s why so called “prophecies” and foreseeing are so bloody unreliable.”

“I saw multiple possibilities, multiple branches off the chain.”

“Irrelevant. It’s all changed. Nothing is set in stone. It always bugs the piss out of me when people talk about destiny, ‘cause I know there’s no such thing. Most people make their own, whether they realize it or not.”

She could have been a statue for all she moved, a statue of a vengeful and alluring goddess, much like Kali herself. “Logan would never hurt me. Don’t you think I know him?”

He smirked and looked away, wiping the cool condensation of the beer bottle across his forehead. He wasn’t really warm, but it hid his face for a moment. When he looked back at her, his gimlet eyed stare matched hers. “If you knew him as you claimed, you’d know as much as he loves you, if you threatened harm to everyone, he would do what he had to do. Logan and I have that much in common. I loved my son, I still do, but someone had to the pull the trigger, and I was the only one who could do it. If push comes to shove, it’ll kill him, but he’ll shove back. And if you doubt that, you’ll deserve what you get.”

“Camaxtli made him believe he did it once. He’s convinced himself he can’t do it again.”

“He’s wrong.” He took another swig of his beer, never breaking his stare, before he told her, “You want something Jean, so spit it out already. We’re running out of time.”

Her look was so frosty he bet she was keeping his beer cold. “Fine. You want to cut to the chase? I want to get my powers back. And you’re going to do it for me.”

9

Awareness came with all the subtlety of a bullet train slamming through his forebrain, and he collapsed as he heard the sounds of ice breaking (?) and people’s voices, a nattering of crows as he tried to put together what had just happened to him.

Him? Wait a minute … she wasn’t a man.

(Was she?)

She grabbed her head and tried to make sense of the turmoil inside her own brain, vaguely aware of the other people’s voices. “… I don’t think he’s breathing …”

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“He told me to! You gonna tell him no?”

Then there was another voice, loud and clear: Get up.

Logan, deep inside her own head. Unless … was it her thoughts, just sounding like Logan? She didn’t know, and truth be told, it may have been the most minor of differences. Even when she forgot everything she had pulled from his mind (always a relief), every now and again she’d have these dark, cynical thoughts that sounded more like him than her. Or maybe that was just her excuse. Kid, get up now, head for the Northeastern shore, before this thing in your head reasserts control. Go. Go now.

The thing in her head …? What was he - or her; again, it was hard to tell the difference - saying? There was a pain deep inside her brain, like there was something trying to eat through the soft tissue, but she realized as an afterthought her body was responding to his (?) insistent thoughts already, standing up and using the trunk of a near by tree to haul herself up even before she opened her eyes.

The scene before her was odd, and yet comforting as she expected it. A dark forest, lit up periodically with the growing fire in the far distance, and Piotr, Bobby, Brendan and Kitty gathered around the fallen form of Logan, who was laying insensate on the ground, chunks of ice melting around him, scattered about like broken crystals. Piotr was on his knees beside him, head on his chest, clearly listening for a heartbeat, and she thought perhaps she should stay and make sure he wasn’t actually dead. How long had she absorbed him this time?

Fuck me, I’m always fine, the crabby voice that was either his or hers said. Go!

She obeyed, but mainly because she had to - her body had already made the decision for her, and she was plunging through the forest, headed back towards the ostensible shore. She had no idea where she was going, or what she was supposed to do when she got there, but Logan did; it was burned into his brain, a map in neon, and she had no choice but to follow.

The smell of burning wood, metal, and flesh was very nearly incapacitating, it felt like someone was stabbing her sinus cavities with knitting needles, but whatever she had pulled from Logan’s mind was so insistent she couldn’t stop. It’s just pain; master it or it masters you.

That sounded like something from an old Kung Fu episode, but far be it from her to question him about it. He was the one who got vivisected, after all. Pain was his domain, and if he learned to live with it, so could she. Still, the sensory explosions from all avenues was always disorienting, and one of the most annoying things about absorbing Logan. It was his enhanced senses that made her realize that smell of onions could actually be a deadly weapon, that most people had honestly piss poor eyesight, the modern day was just too fucking loud, and sometimes you could taste certain ingredients in fast food - hell, in all kinds of food - that made the experience singularly unpleasant. The worst thing was, it made milk chocolate far too sweet to stand, although it seemed to improve the flavor of dark chocolate, even that mostly bitter kind. And she learned the feeling of the wind on your skin could be undeniably sensual, but she never brought that up, and wouldn’t, but it could be kind of nice. One of the few benefits.

She broke through the trees and hit open rocky ground, the water of Alkali Lake a mirror reflecting the night sky, choppy only where the wake of the helicopter rotors disturbed it. She heard noise behind her, someone else coming through the underbrush, and she turned to see it was Brendan, who must have noticed she was gone and took off after her. He looked at her warily as he emerged from the forest, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t armed, but she couldn’t trust him. “Marie, we can’t let you -” he began, but she just had no time for this.

“Kid, stow it, okay? I have to do this, I have to get this thing outta my head, or this won’t work. So just stay back and give me a minute.”

His head rocked back slightly, and he smirked in disbelief. “Kid? Why the hell are you …” He trailed off, and then confusion and understanding seemed to cross his face at the same time. “Logan?”

“No, Santa Claus.” Convinced she could hear him before he could get close enough to do anything, she turned and ran off, towards the dark, faintly thrumming object just a few meters from the edge of the lake.

It looked ominous somehow, the base of the 2001 monolith, chopped down and rounded slightly ( … the 2001 what? She had just thought of a reference she didn’t understand at all …), with its low electric hum that probably wasn’t audible to the Human ear until they got very close. It was a generator of a sort, already powered up, and capable of giving off a lethal charge. She had never dealt with a generator before, and certainly not one like this, but Logan knew what to do, and his thoughts seemed to have already transferred completely to her muscle memory. She was reaching for right access cover before she knew it, and she still had no idea what she was going to do.

Then she knew, and she didn’t like it. It’s the only way, her inner voice insisted. We have to make sure it can’t come back.

She still didn’t get what “it” was, beyond a constant, growing ache in her head. But the cover was off, on the ground, revealing cables plugged into the bulk of the machine, and warning labels suggesting this was a dangerous as all hell, at least to stick figures. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to hurt.

Somehow that was less than comforting. But it didn’t stop her hands from reaching for the cables, and grabbing them with some unclear purpose. There was a sudden, hard pain, a donkey kick to the chest, and then everything jumped suddenly to black.

****

She was on the verge of semi-consciousness, not awake enough to qualify as even half conscious, but aware enough that she could feel the pain, the sensation like her skin was on fire from the inside, and she thought she could smell roasted flesh. Her own? That was so creepy on so many levels.

But in her own mind, a memory surfaced, slowly bobbing to the surface. A memory not her own.

Logan was staring into his bathroom, and talking to himself. Or, wait, no, only himself at the time. “Rogue, I’m sorry to do this to you, but it was the only way I could think to rescue you. I was at a loss as to how to rescue Saddiq, so I’m afraid I’m gonna have to dump that off on you. I have a half assed idea as to how to go about it, but there are some gaps in my tactical knowledge that you have the best shot at knowing, have been with the Organization this time and seeing how they plan to work this. I’m outta play for a while if this whole stupid scheme worked, so you’ve gotta cover for me, kid. I’m sorry to put it all on you, but I don’t have much choice.” He looked down at the sink, grimacing as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, and when he looked up again, he looked unusually contrite. “I’m really sorry I got you into this. I should have never let you come along with us. The Organization is a complete shower of bastards, and I should’ve known better than to expose you to them for even a second. But sometimes my own desire to hurt them blinds me to what I’m actually doing. I just want to destroy them and everything they stand for, but they keep coming back. The fuckers are like me. And maybe that bothers me more than anything else.” Again he looked away, as if he couldn’t stand to see himself in the mirror, and seemed to focus on a spot roundabout his reflection’s right ear, jaw going tight in grim resolve. “Here’s what you’re gonna have to do, Rogue. Alter it as you see fit, but remember, we have to get Saddiq home, alive and preferably in one piece.”

In a way, listening to him was good, because it distracted her from the pain.

****

Damn it, he knew it! Well, okay, no, he suspected it, and that was just as good.

He should have known Logan was preparing to do something suicidal and stupid. Did he not walk in on him having his last meal, for Christ’s sake?

Brendan watched in horror as Rogue apparently electrocuted herself, and once her body was thrown clear he went to check on her, but she was incredibly still breathing; smoking a bit, but otherwise pretty good. Then again, she had Logan’s healing factor, right? Which was why he had to be absorbed by her before this could work. But why electrocution? Did this mean he thought there was a physical implant or something?

Damn, he felt like an idiot. Why didn’t Logan tell them what he intended to do? Because they would try and stop him, probably.

There were crashing noises in the brush, people emerging rather inelegantly from the forest, but it was just the rest of the crew, Bobby and Kitty, with Piotr taking up the rear, an unconscious and not quite dead (but almost) Logan slung over his shoulder like a knapsack. Bobby looked at the scene with incomprehension, then asked, “What the hell happened?”

“My best guess?” Brendan offered. “Logan told me we probably couldn’t save both of them this time out, and I was so overwhelmed by the odds against us that I didn’t see that he was laying the groundwork for what he did here.” He considered using a Sophie’s Choice reference, but didn’t know if anyone would get what he meant, so he skipped it. “He chose the one to save: Rogue. He got himself absorbed by her, so she could electrocute herself on this doohickey.”

“Electrocute herself?” Bobby looked horrified, and went over to Rogue’s side, although warily, as if she might still be an org zombie or possibly still electrified.

“She has his healing factor. She’ll be fine. That’s why he gave it to her, so she could survive burning this stuff out.”

It was Piotr’s turn to look at him funny. “Burn what stuff out?”

He shrugged. “Hell if I know. I’m just assuming he thought Rogue was being controlled by something physical or mechanical, as opposed to purely telepathic.”

“That makes sense,” Piotr agreed. “If they were under psychic influence, the Professor would have been able to tell. Would electrocution kill Saddiq?”

They all shared confused glances, no one really sure, until a groggy, raspy voice said, “Yeah, it will, it’ll cook his organs from the inside out. Only his skin is impervious to harm.” It was Rogue who said it, but the information was Logan’s; he knew these Eden kids better than anyone else. He brought them in, didn’t he?

She rolled over onto her back, but didn’t even try and get up. “We gotta make it look like you captured me, like someone really put the hurt on me even as I took Logan out. We don’t want them to know I’m back to normal - in a manner of speaking - just yet.”

Bobby looked down at her like he wasn’t sure who he was talking to, which was fair enough. “Why?”

‘’Cause, I gotta plan. But they hafta remain in the dark about it, don’t they?” Her tone of voice was so brusque it almost altered pitch, almost sounded like Logan. It was really weird. There was just no getting used to that. “I’ll play dead. One of you’ll hafta carry me out.”

“What about getting their equipment..?” Kitty wondered.

“Bullshit. Sorry, but I had to - I mean he had to lie to you, distract you, so you wouldn’t figure out what he was trying to do. He didn’t think you’d approve.”

That was true enough. Brendan walked over and said, “I’ll carry you. Piotr’s hands are full.”

She nodded, looking up at him, and he noticed her eyes were now hazel-green, Logan’s eye color. If she started growing sideburns, he didn’t know who would be more horrified. “What about that … thing?” He gestured at the generator, which squatted on the shore like an overgrown toad, strangely menacing for all its utilitarianism.

“The chopper ‘ll come back for it,” she replied confidently. “I - he just borrowed it.”

“Who are these guys anyways?” He asked, hoping she’d give him an answer where Logan wouldn’t.

No dice; she was still as much Logan as she was herself. She even quirked her eyebrow up like he did, eyes stony with knowledge. There were no longer any signs she had been electrocuted surely fatally a couple of minutes ago. “Nice try, Bren.”

Oh, if only he didn’t find stubborn assholes so damn attractive.

He had to be very careful picking Rogue up, as she could still absorb him if he touched any exposed flesh, but luckily she didn’t have much, and by hefting her up in a fireman’s carry, he saved himself from any potential contact. And really, it was time for a retreat; the fire was getting closer to them now, the heat making him sweat, even though when the wind blew off the lake he shivered. Would anyone else survive this? (Well, Saddiq, sure - his skin couldn’t burn, right? But what about everyone else?)

Bobby’s ice bridge was melting rapidly from the heat, but he firmed it up as they crossed back over, only realizing how bad the air was over on the forested side when they were over the lake, and the air came in pure and cold. Some of them coughed just from the general shock of no longer breathing in wood smoke.

He could see the strong woman Bobby froze still floating on the lake, although she looked almost thawed by now. Would she ever realize she was lucky to have been frozen? She could be in the woods instead, getting roasted like a marshmallow on a camping trip. Which made him wonder again how the fire had spread so fast. Did these guys - whoever they were - also use incendiary devices? Was one of them packing a flamethrower? They were like vampires or ninjas or something like that; you knew they were there in the shadows, but you could never quite spot them. You could hear the gunshots, maybe a scream or two, some rustling, but nothing else. They were more than just mercenaries, they were like a professional death squad, and it made him wonder how on earth Logan knew them. He wasn’t joking about that whole “subpoena” thing, was he?

No one followed them across the path, and they seemed to be all alone , the lone survivors as the land across the lake seemed to be almost totally consumed by flames now, a beacon of light in the darkness. Was there even anyone left to observe the fact that they had “captured” Rogue?