Undercloak: Part Sixteen

by queenB

Outside the Main Hall of the Xavier's Institute, Jean Grey twists a lock of red hair impatiently around a slim finger as she paces back and forth on the sun-dappled lawn. She looks up at the cloudless, morning sky and wishes that life were as clear and smooth as its blue horizon. It is an impossible wish, she knows. Life is never easy for the X-Men. The recent events in all their lives, Onslaught, the Destruction of the Mansion, Psylocke's current crisis, have made that point abundantly clear. The X-Men are a magnet for drama. Though today as she stands fidgeting beside the mansion's large, oak doors, she hopes that not every story of the X-Men has a tragic ending.

"We don't have all day," she mutters to herself distractedly as she checks her wrist watch.

Behind her she hears Logan say as he closes the large double doors behind him, "And I wasn't plannin' on takin' all day, darlin'."

Jean jumps slightly as she says, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were there."

Pulling a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and putting them on, Logan says casually, "Sneakin' up on a world-class telepath? Boy, I'm good."

Grinning a bit in amusement, she responds, "I guess I had my mind elsewhere."

"I'd say."

She fidgets with a strap on her small, leather satchel as she says, "Okay, then. Let's get going."

"All right. Ya got the keys?"

Fishing Warren's abandoned keys out of the pocket of her khaki pants, she holds them in the air as they flash in the morning sun. "Right here."

"Then let's get to it."

The two walk to Warren's silver, E-Class Mercedes parked in the School's large, arcing driveway. After disengaging the alarm, Jean slides into the leather driver's seat. If she wasn't so worried about Betsy and Warren, she would actually enjoy this. She has always wanted to drive her friend's sleek luxury car. With Warren now living in the city all the time, she hasn't gotten the chance to... though she doubts he would let her under less extenuating circumstances. He has always been very protective of his toys.

She closes the door of the car and pulls an elastic band from her satchel before tossing it in the back seat. It is a beautiful day and she decides to make the most of it, regardless how dismal she feels. She plans to take full advantage of the large, custom sunroof and wants to keep her long hair from constantly whipping in her face. As she ties her hair up, she glances over at Logan, who is making himself comfortable in the passenger seat, and asks, "So what took you so long?"

"What do ya mean? I was five minutes early."

Jean peers at the dash board clock and says absently, "My watch must be fast."

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices her friend's disgruntled expression. So what if she is a bit absent minded today, she thinks to herself. Yesterday was jarring for everyone. She knows it is plain as day that she blames herself for Betsy's disappearance. She also knows that Logan plans on discussing it with her.

Releasing a sigh, Jean searches her pocket for her pair of sunglasses and groans as she realizes she left them on the kitchen table. She hasn't the patience to walk or drive to the boat house to retrieve them and the thought of using her powers seems excessive for something so trivial, so she reaches past Logan and grabs a pair from the glove compartment. The cats-eye shaped glasses fit perfectly. No doubt, they are Betsy's. She can't imagine Warren wearing them, not in any respectable sense, anyway.

She adjusts her seat and mirrors then starts the car, its new engine purring almost melodically. Shifting the car into gear, she pulls out of the drive, letting a few fallen leaves rustle and fly in their wake. They leave Greymalkin Lane behind and head out toward the highway in silence and Jean knows it will be a long ride. There is too much on both their minds for it not to be.

After a while, she turns on the car's CD player, hoping music will help relax both her and Wolverine. The CD spirals through to an album Jean knows well, one she is surprised Warren would have. She then realizes that music is something the two have never really discussed. Suddenly she thinks how odd it is to know someone for so many years without knowing his music tastes. It makes her feel as if she doesn't really know him anymore. It makes him feel very far away.

Rolling back the sun roof and putting the car into fifth gear as she merges onto the highway, she listens to the lyrics of the song playing over the top-of-the-line audio system. She'd never really paid attention to them before and they draw her deep into a reverie, making her think more and more about Betsy and her situation, about herself and all the millions of roles she is expected to play everyday.

"From the shadow she calls
and in the shadow she finds a way
finds a way
and in the shadow she crawls
clutching a faded photograph
my image under her thumb
yes with a message for my heart
yes with a message for my heart

She's been everybody else's girl
maybe one day she'll be her own
Everybody else's girl
maybe one day she'll be her own."

And then she is far away from it all: the car, the asphalt road in front of her, the man sitting right next to her. Her instincts take the wheel as she slips into herself, wondering how to make it all better, wondering how to make it work right this time. She hopes she can help her friend save herself. Friend? Yes. Through all the petty jealousies and arguing, through all the competition and comparison, she finally considers Betsy a friend. She hopes it is an epithet she returns.

As these thoughts weigh heavily on her mind, she doesn't notice the car drifting into the right lane until Logan reaches out and grabs the wheel. She snaps back into herself as suddenly as she left, shaking her head and concentrating fully on her driving.

"Wings would kill ya if ya totaled his baby."

Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, Jean retorts, "I imagine he has more important things on his mind right now."

She can hear him settle back into the leather seat next as he says, "I'd guess so... and from the looks of it, ya got something on yer mind, too."

Jean grips the wheel tightly in her hands as she retorts, "I think we both do. I know Betsy means a lot to you."

The electronically powered chair whirs and hums as he reclines the seat slightly and stretches his legs. "Don't go changin' the subject."

Staring straight ahead, her eyes unwavering from the road, she says, "I'm not."

"No. Ya just don't want to talk about yer feelings."

A low groan builds in her throat and eventually spills out of her lips as she sighs heavily and snaps, "And since when have you been so analytical? Lord. You sound like Charles."

"There's a lot to that."

Jean squints as her brow tightens and she purses her lips. No, he wasn't going to let it drop. She might as well get it out in the open and over with. Might as well get it off her chest before she had to play the strong-willed woman Warren and Betsy would need her to be. Yes, she'd give Logan what he needs to hear.

"I failed her, Logan. I wasn't there for her. We almost lost her because I wasn't strong enough, didn't hold her tight enough."

Her eyes follow the snaking lines of the highway as she waits for him to tell her that everything's okay, that it wasn't her fault, that she didn't fail Betsy. But the words never come and the two sit in silence, the music mocking the wall between them.

Finally, she sighs deeply and snaps the stereo off before she says, "Aren't you going to reassure me? Isn't that what this is all about? Isn't this what you want?"

His face turned away from her, Logan looks out the window as he says, "Nope. That's what ya want."

Gripping the wheel tightly, Jean sputters, "So... so you're saying it is my fault? That I let her down?"

Still refusing to look at her, he says dryly, "I'm not sayin' that."

"Then what are you saying, Logan?"

He takes off his glasses and looks her square in the face as he tries to place his words as delicately as possible, "What I'm sayin' is this ain't necessarily about ya, Jeannie."

Jean growls quietly and then composes herself before she says, "But I thought you wanted me to tell you how I felt? And when I do... you tell me they're the wrong feelings. I don't know why I even bother with you."

Squinting out of the window and rubbing his forehead, he says casually, "Because I'm such a charmer."

A small laugh escapes her lips and she drums her fingers lightly against the steering wheel as green trees blur past them. "You're right, you know. This isn't about me."

Next to her, Logan nods slowly as he listens to her continue. "I mean, what's done is done. I can't change it, can I?"

"No. Ya sure can't."

Relaxing into her seat, Jean breathes a deep sigh and asks, "So what's next?"

"I don't know, Jeannie."

As the words leave his mouth, Jean can feel strange emotions lingering in his stray thoughts. She has sensed ambient emotions from her friend before this day, but this sensation is different. It's not anger, or hate, or raw fury... emotions that dig into a telepath's consciousness like a sharp burr. No, this is a quiet, muffled emotion. It is opaque and as suffocating as a murky pond, yet it is as obvious as the sunrise. As dread pounds against his thoughts, the reality of it hits her like a ton of bricks.

Her jaw drops as she can't help but channel his thoughts and emotions. "You don't think she's going to make it, do you? I mean you said that you didn't yesterday, but I didn't think you believed it. But you do. You really do."

She watches him as he shuts his eyes tightly and turns his face away from her. Shaking her head in disbelief, she puts voice to the fears swimming in her mind. "You really don't think she can win. And... oh dear God."

Jean takes a breath before she continues, carefully weighing the importance of every word. "And you won't let her become a monster. You won't let her become a slave. You'll finish her yourself before you'll let that happen."

Wolverine tears his gaze from the passing scenery and looks at Jean. She can feel his eyes on her. He seems to be pleading with her to stop saying the words, to stop giving voice to the worst case scenario, to stop making him feel worse than he already does. She shakes her head again, as if she is trying to make the conflicting views struggling in her mind fit together and settle, as if she is trying to make the world make sense again. And then she turns to Logan and asks quietly, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Dropping his head in his hands, he lets out a low growl before he says, "Dammit, Jean. Don't push this. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Logan?"

She pulls her eyes from the road briefly and looks at him, anger and guilt obviously weighing heavily on his conscious thoughts. As she turns her attention back to the road, she says almost coldly, "Logan. It's not your fault."

She can feel his frustration lash out at her almost palpably as he fumes, "It is my fault. All of it! Can't ya see it?! Sabretooth never should've been in a position to do that to her in the first place. And I never shoulda gone to that damn wizard for help. I helped turn her life into a mockery of what she used to be. So the lord help me, Jeannie, if she don't make it out of this, I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure that whatever happens, it doesn't take the rest of her dignity. I'm gonna make sure this Tar creep doesn't take everything that's beautiful and good about her and twist it into some dark shadow of the woman she used to be. I won't let her be a mockery anymore. Even if it kills me. No matter what."

Jean lets his words settle in her mind as she sits quietly in the driver's seat. Letting his body fall back into his chair, though he is still rigid with anger and tension, he says quietly, "And that's all I'm gonna say on it."

Gripping the wheel tightly, she tightens her jaw and takes a deep breath. The air that penetrates her lungs feels as if it is tinged with strain and irritation. She blurts out, "How dare you? You bastard!"

He refuses to look at her. Head turned, he pretends to be fixated on the wild flowers scattered down the highway's embankment. Jean knows better and scowls again, "You selfish, hypocritical bastard."

Her comment once again gets his attention and he glares at her as she continues, "Maybe this isn't about you anymore. Maybe you've done enough damage. Maybe it's Betsy's turn to decide to do with her own life. Maybe it's her time to choose her own path... any of this sound familiar, Logan? God. I can't believe you're actually thinking about killing one of your dearest friends just because she might become something you don't think she should! Try as I might, I still don't understand your twisted sense of honor."

Taking a deep breath she sinks back into the drivers seat and glances over at her friend. He stares glassy-eyed out of the window and if she didn't know better, she could have sworn he was on the verge of a break down. She knows her words have cut him to the bone, yet she still felt she had to say them.

She whispers, "I won't let you do that to her. I owe her that much. I owe you that much."

The two sit silently for a few agonizing minutes, neither of them daring to say a word as the tires of the car roll almost soundlessly over the patched road. The chaotic rhythm the axles make as they pass over repaired potholes grinds into Jean's thoughts and the sound mocks her unbearably. She reaches out her hand with the intent of turning back on the stereo, when Logan says quietly, "I'll stop her if I have to, Jeannie. If she can't control herself or she leaves the side of the angels... I'll stop her."

Placing her hand back on the steering wheel, Jean says calmly, "As we all would. We'd make sure she was rehabilitated to the best of our abilities. But that's not going to happen. She's in control now. You should know that much from what you saw of her yesterday. I have faith she'll come through this one way or another. She's too strong to be used again. She'll do anything to keep that from happening."

He sits forward and takes a deep breath before he speaks. "I'm just saying that not everything ends up in a pretty little picture like us X-Men are used to. There ain't always a happy ending, no matter how hard we wish for it to happen. You've gotta understand that about the world, Jean. I know Betsy does."

She nods as she watches him settle back in his seat and even though his thoughts are still jumbled and angry, she knows this signals the end of their conversation. She hopes and prays he took her threats seriously, that he isn't still contemplating drastic solutions to a worst-case scenario. She is just as stubborn as Logan. If he chooses to cross her on this, she will contain him by any means possible.

Pulling his hat low over his eyes, Wolverine releases a breath and then says, "For her sake, I hope yer right, though. I really do."

Mustering up the most confident and cheerful expression she can manage, Jean says as she glances at her friend, "I know I am. I just know it. I have to be."

[next part]

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