Undercloak: Part Twenty Three

by queenB

"Words, they climb all over you
'Til they uncover you
From where you hide"

Peter Gabriel, "Love to Be Loved"

Outside the large living room of Warren and Betsy's SoHo apartment, Betsy tightens her hands into tense fists and takes a deep breath. She knows she has to do this, start this process in motion. She must finish what was started all those months ago. She must get past this obstacle one way or another. She sighs as she stands in the darkened hallway, the shadows licking longingly at her feet, calling out to her like little, lost pets... wanting so much to be with her, to become a part of her soul. She shuts out their whisperings as she becomes eerily aware of the ticking of time. The locus of the new moon is almost upon her and for the first time since Gomurr's protection began, she feels drawn to the Dawn's darkling energy. It becomes painfully clear to her that she hasn't much time until they try to claim her as their own.

Betsy runs her hands down her blue body armor, takes a deep breath and walks into the light of the living room. She pauses a moment to look deep into the eyes of each of her guests before she approaches the group as a whole. Jean sits on the couch, her mind full of light and anticipation as Scott stands behind her, on edge and ready for anything. Logan is pacing the room nervously, anxiously, eyeing her like a caged animal. And Warren? At the moment she can't bring herself to look at him, not without falling to pieces.

Taking one more calming breath, she walks toward the seating area, the focal point of the room. She stands a few awkward seconds as they all look at her expectantly, their attention completely on her. She resists the urge to wring her hands like a schoolgirl speaking in front of class for the first time and instead holds them neatly at her sides, calling on all the grace and poise she learned at finishing school. She closes her eyes as Warren stands by her side, attempting to offer support by proximity.

"First, let me just thank you three for coming... and for caring. I want to let you know that I trust you completely and sincerely and am glad to have people of your character and training behind me tonight. It means more than you can know."

Jean smiles brightly at Betsy, her green eyes glinting in the room's soft light. "We're just glad to be of help, Betsy."

Nodding her head and returning Jean's gesture with a slight smile, Betsy says, "Thank you."

Across the room, Logan clears his throat, obviously ready to get to business. "So what's the plan, Betts?"

As she feels his eyes burn into her, drinking in every movement she makes, she says quietly, her voice cracked and small, "The plan. Yes, the plan."

Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard, her words suddenly tiny and lost in her own throat, she looks over to Warren, his face as full of encouragement as he can manage at the moment. What is she doing? Why is there a lump forming in her throat, why is she struggling to breathe much less speak? She looks around the room once more into the faces of her teammates, her friends. They are here for her. For her. She should feel loved and empowered, not timid and weak. Taking a deep breath, she allows their reflections and impressions of her to fill her: Jean's kindred sympathy, Logan's admiration, Warren's unconditional love and Scott's respect. Though she is surprised by that last impression, she holds it and the others close to her heart as she sees herself as the people around her see her. She feels strong, resolute, and hopeful. She smiles at she looks to Logan and then once again to Warren. Finally, her words and thoughts come spilling from her mouth as uninhibited and free as the wind.

"Well, as you can no doubt tell, this is not your typical mission. There are no maps of our enemy's infrastructure, no inside leads besides the cryptic mutterings of a less than trustworthy sorcerer. In fact we have no idea if there even is an enemy waiting for us..." Betsy pauses as she corrects herself. "For me. I might not face anything more than that I take with me."

Betsy looks from face to face, assessing the thoughts of her teammates as Scott speaks up, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm a little lost here. What exactly is it you need from us?"

She smiles and nods. That's the Scott she's fought beside before... always cutting to the chase, always just the facts. She is glad Jean insisted on his presence. "Let me be blunt. Honestly, I don't know what to expect. But what I need from you all is your trust and your experience." She studies Logan as she continues, "Your instincts. My fate might hinge on a split-second judgment on your part, but I need you to trust me enough to give me the distance I need to accomplish my goals."

Logan crosses his arms over his chest as he asks gruffly, "And how're we supposed to know what those goals are?"

"I was just getting to that, Logan. First, when the time comes, when Tar sends for me, I want you all in another part of the house. I don't think the proctor will take kindly to a group of super-powered party-crashers. Warren will stay with me. His presence will most likely be expected, but just enough of a distraction to allow you to remain undetected. I will teleport you secretly with us."

Jean sits forward in her chair and asks quickly, "Do you think you're up to that, Betsy? Your powers are still so new to you."

She looks determinedly at Jean as she says confidently, "You were there with me the other day. You know I have the power. I just lack the focus."

Reaching out to squeeze Warren's hand, she steps away from her position at the front of the room and stands near Jean. "And that's where you come in."

Jean nods slowly, Psylocke's plan quickly becoming obvious to her. "Jean will be in constant telepathic contact with me..."

Phoenix finishes her thought before she can even utter it, "And I will make sure you remain focused when you teleport."

Betsy smiles at Jean. "As well as making sure Tar and his minions are not exerting any sort of influence over me."

Scott casts a ruby-shielded glance toward Logan. "And she can report to the rest of the team."

Pulling his Wolverine mask over his face, Logan says, "Yeah. Yeah. Got it. Now when do we leave?"

Warren places a hand on Betsy's shoulder. "We leave when they get here."

Folding his arms over his chest, obviously frustrated with the mysterious aura surrounding their mission and the Crimson Dawn, Scott asks, "And when is that?"

Betsy closes her eyes as she feels the shadows' song grow inside her. It's so beautiful, she thinks. So dark and pure. Nothing has ever felt so real in her life, nothing except... she feels Warren's hand on her shoulder, warm and pulsing with life. Her breath catches in her throat as the call of the Dawn pounds in her ears and her veins and she concentrates on the steady hand on her shoulder and the man it belongs to.

'Two are more solid than one,' Jean's words from earlier in the day ring clearly in her mind. 'You will be even stronger if he stands beside you.'

Letting her mind race along the thin tendrils of their rapport, Betsy probes Warren's psyche and clings to the familiar patterns of his thoughts and his affection for her. The brightness of the link between them chases away the shadows that clutter her mind and Betsy clings to her lover's soul as if it were a life preserver. Her eyes flutter open without her remembering she ever closed them and she wonders if she will have the strength to chase away the shadows when she is in their realm, pitted against their master.

Warren stands silent beside her, clinging just as tenaciously to their rapport, when Jean asks urgently, "Betsy?"

Shaking her head and bringing herself back into the moment, Betsy whispers, "Soon. They're coming soon."

Standing next to his wife, Scott says, "Then we should get into position."

Betsy looks to Warren who nods his head, his jaw tight and his muscles tense. Such a brave front, she thinks. Too bad she knows better, knows the fears gnawing at the back of his mind. She lightly squeezes his hand in reassurance and says quietly, "Let me show you to the guest room."

Reluctantly releasing his light grip on her, Warren stays behind as Betsy walks their three guests to another section of the loft in silence. As they walk along the darkened hall, the shadow-hung walls themselves seem to whisper her name and the ambient emotions of her teammates wash over her. The feelings she senses from Logan are especially turbulent, his regret barely hidden by an almost overwhelming amount of dread. 'I will not cry,' she thinks to herself. 'I must not.'

As they assemble in the room and prepare themselves for the coming challenge, securing the last few pieces of their uniforms and attending to last minute details, Betsy hangs her head and looks down at the finely carpeted floor. She knows she must leave them here, but somehow she can't find the strength to lift her feet and walk away. Finally, Jean breaks the silence. "You take care of yourself okay, Betsy?"

Psylocke nods and looks into Jean's face as she speaks, her countenance filled with concern and hope. "You will beat this thing. You're strong, you know that."

Smiling weakly, Betsy is glad to have someone close by who understands the multitude of emotions racing through her mind, who she can open up to without hurting... or scaring. "Yes, I am. I do know." Acting on impulse, she reaches out and hugs Jean tightly as she whispers, "Thank you, Jean. I won't forget this."

Jean returns her smile as she breaks their embrace, "I'll hold you to that."

Betsy releases a sigh as she thinks how lucky she is to have found a friend in Jean finally. She can't believe they never noticed how much they had in common, how much they could learn from one another. She pushes her regrets and her spent pettiness far into the back of her mind, knowing that she won't need either anymore, knowing that all wounds between them are mended. As she smiles at Jean, she sees Scott standing awkwardly, looking at the two of them in puzzlement. Betsy turns to look at him and almost laughs out loud at his social ineptitude.

After a few moments, he extends his hand with an uncomfortable grin on this face as he says, "We wish you well, Psylocke."

The fact that he's never been extremely gifted with conversation and social grace is perhaps one of the things that has always fascinated her about him, made him a little less intimidating and a little easier to manipulate when it struck her fancy to do so. Before she got to know Scott and Jean, she always thought of him as the rock of their relationship, the so-called 'strong' one. Now she knows how wrong she was, how for all his stoicism and bravery, he is just an insecure and often frightened man, doing his best to make the world a better place, making sure it is safe for the people he loves. She shakes his hand with a smile as she begins, "Cyclops..."

"Scott. Please call me Scott."

Betsy grins. "Scott. I'm sorry if there's any ill will left between us." She looks to Phoenix as she continues, "I hope it's all water under the bridge."

Looking back to Cyclops, she hears him say, "Ancient history." As he lets go of her hand, he nods, "Be careful tonight, Betsy."

"I will. I have a lot to come back to."

Betsy smiles as he drapes an arm around his wife and they whisper quietly to one to one another, moving to another part of the room, obviously giving her and Logan some distance. She wonders if they know how lucky they are, how delicate a path they stride together every day. How much easier life is when you are alone, she thinks, with no one to worry about but yourself... no one to hurt, no one else to wound. But life alone is empty and she knows it. Before she found love, the stars never shone as brightly and the dawn was never so promising. She wouldn't trade her love with Warren for all the riches in the world.

Out of the corner of her eye, Logan stirs uncomfortably. She turns her head to look at him as he stares at the floor, his mask hiding much of his face from her view. He should know better, he's never been able to hide from her, now or ever. She reaches out to take a gloved hand in her own and he flinches from the contact, a muscle twitching in his cheek as he clenches his jaw tightly as if he would never let any words escape his lips again. She stares fearlessly into his eyes as she says into his thoughts, *Words, they always seem to get in the way. They are fragile, false things.*

Finally he returns her gaze, his hand gripping hers tenaciously. The expression on his face cuts her to the bone, his eyes giving away every ounce of his remorse and longing. She had not wanted him to feel like this but she knows she can never take the weight from his shoulders. It is his sense of honor and loyalty that keeps him going, makes him human, saves his soul. She would not take that from him for the world. So instead she smiles weakly as she says, "Be well, my friend."

As his brown eyes cut into her, even though he is no telepath, she feels as if he can see straight into her soul as he says quietly, "I love ya, darlin'."

Betsy squeezes his hand once and then lets it go reluctantly. "I know, Logan. I know."

He looks at her a little longer before he averts his eyes and says quietly, "Now go. Let's get this over with."

Casting one more glance around the room, Betsy sighs quietly. She nods once as she turns her back on her three friends and leaves the room, resisting the urge to look back and catch one more glimpse before she rejoins Warren.

As she closes the door behind her and steps into the hall, she can hear the lilting of an old man's voice coming from the living room. Rounding the corner as she retrieves her sheathed katana from the a side-table and attaches it to her belt, she sees Warren with his arms crossed over his chest nodding impatiently as their guest prattles quickly away, obviously amused by his own story.

"So the doctor says... Oh goodness, this kills me! The doctor says, 'The man in the next bed wants to buy your slippers!' Get it? You get it?!"

Betsy enters the room and frowns at Gomurr the Ancient as she hears Warren say unenthusiastically, "Yes. I get it."

She watches the aged sorcerer chuckle to himself for a few moments, before she finally says, "I was wondering when you would show, Gomurr."

Smiling up at Psylocke, he levitates off the floor, exposing the few teeth he has remaining in his mouth and wiping away the remaining tears on his cheeks from his raucous laughter. "Right on time, Child. Gomurr is right on time. So, how are we holding up?"

Looking over to Warren as she answers, Betsy says, "Just fine, Gomurr... considering."

His expression quickly becoming sober, Gomurr says, "Yes. Trying such things are."

A few feet away, Warren sighs as he asks impatiently, "Not to overstep my bounds, but what can we expect tonight?"

Raising an eyebrow and floating closer to Warren, the magician says, "Oh. So it's we now, is it boy? We?"

Betsy sighs tiredly. "Yes, Gomurr. He is coming with me."

Letting himself down easily to the ground, Gomurr's expression turns contemplative as he pauses briefly before he speaks. "Yes. Him I expected. Him Tar will have no objection to. He is the one who is responsible for your debt to the Dawn in the first place."

Through their rapport, Betsy feels Warren wince at the sorcerer's accusation. But he lets the matter rest without an objection, accepting his role in the evening's events. Betsy fills his mind with reassuring thoughts as she listens to Gomurr continue. "But it's the other three he may have a problem with."

Reinforcing the telepathic mask Jean has erected around herself, Cylcops and Wolverine, Psylocke asks, "Whatever do you mean?"

Gomurr tisks as he wags a long, gnarled finger at her. "You should know better. Gomurr sees much and knows more. Silly child. And don't ask me to help you hide them from Tar. You must know he's been watching you. You must be able to feel it."

Betsy reaches out with her thoughts and calls quietly to the shadows, feeling for the cold being that stirs within them. She was being watched; she has been all evening. So that's what the calling from the shadows was, that's why their power was so strong. This entire time one of Tar's undercloaks lurked in her own home watching her silently, waiting to take her to its master.

Anger builds in her throat as she seethes, "They are coming with me."

Shaking his head, Gomurr says, "Fine. Fine. But Tar will make their arrival difficult. He will attempt to make you lose them in the shadows. Your focus must be clear to keep them from being lost in the darkness. Do they trust you enough to do this thing? Do you trust yourself?"

Opening up a link with Jean, Betsy pulls her fellow telepath's thoughts into her own, giving her access to her own mind and the conversation with Gomurr. She closes her eyes for a moment as Phoenix gets comfortable, her psychic energies filling her with light and strength. After a long silence, Betsy answers Gomurr, "Yes. We are ready."

Gomurr levitates once more in the air as he looks hard into Betsy's eyes. "I will speak to Tar about allowing them if they arrive safely. But he won't be pleased. They must be prepared to defend themselves."

She looks to Warren as he nods slowly and answers for them all, "We will be."

Casting a glance at Archangel, Gomurr squints his eyes and says, "Yes. You X-Men. Always ready for a fight." He sighs as he continues, "Children, all of you... even the old man, Logan. Children in the eyes of the Dawn."

Betsy stands next to Warren as she says confidently, "We are prepared for anything, Gomurr. Even what we cannot see."

She feels the air around her crackle with a strange, dark energy and her skin crawls in both dread and anticipation as Gomurr says solemnly, "I hope so, child, because here they come."

Her heart nearly leaps into her throat as one light bulb after another explode in a bright flash of sparks and two hooded figures rise from the shadows that pool on the floor. *This is it,* she hears Jean's voice ring in her mind as her world turns cold and completely devoid of light.

She senses Warren near her, panicked and afraid as a cold hands reach for them without preamble or ceremony. Fighting down her own terror, she concentrates on her rapport with Jean and Warren, instilling light and warmth into the dark recesses of her mind. She feels Jean turn off the lights of the adjacent room telekinetically and the bright spirits of her friends join her in the dark as she is pulled into the shadow realm of the Crimson Dawn. She holds onto them tightly, absorbing their fear and trepidation, then releasing it into the dark world beneath her. They float weightlessly behind her, their corporeal selves dimming as they are swallowed whole by the hungry shadows.

In her mind, she hears Warren call out to her. *I love you, Betsy.*

She steels herself as she sends one last determined thought through her rapport. *I won't let them win, Warren. I can't. For both our sakes, I will triumph.*

And then she becomes an empty vessel, channeling the darkling energy through her and her friends, keeping them safe and whole in the pitch-black world of the shadows, using every ounce of her concentration to hold them together.

[next part]

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