Age of Apocalypse: Strange Reunions

[x-eidolon.livejournal.com]

Haller, Remy, Molly, Sam, Wanda and Angelo land in Rachel’s version of Muir, finding Essex in charge in the face of a massive assault about to fall on them. Belatedly, Rachel explains herself and begs for their help. Plans are laid out.



As the visions fell away, they found themselves standing together on Muir Island – a sight that both alarmed and depressed, but was an almost familiar one given the memories they had all involuntarily born witness to.

The island was in an organised chaos. Dusk had fallen, but steady streams of people were still hurrying purposefully from point to point, barely giving their strange group more than a second glance. That fact was strange, in and of itself, and dread started to rise. There were charged tensions in the air, and a palpable feeling recognisable as that of waiting for something to happen – for that last straw on the camel’s back to fall, so to speak.

Worrying at her bottom lip, Rachel surveyed her newly formed team with a frown, struggling to come up with a reasonable enough but quick explanation for their sudden relocation. “I’m sorry for doing this,” she began earnestly, gaze shifting from Remy, to Angelo and to—“Rosie?!”

In the center of the group, wearing her viking hat, Molly poked her head out from behind Angelo. She was not quite sure how she got there but all these memories were in her head somehow. Bad ones. With blood and fire and dead people. And BOOM! And Wade. And old her. Like OLD her. Grown up her. Tall her. With a helmet. And she had boobs! But why?

She heard Rachel call someone's name but she looking at her, like she saw a ghost.

"Who?" Molly said, then squinted. Wait. "Oh! I was me? That was my name. Cause...secret identity. But...How..." She frowned.

"What's going on?" she added helpfully, glancing around at all the people running around. Cause Rachel looked like she knew.

"I... really have no idea", Angelo said slowly. "But I think I remember getting killed... somewhere not our world. Chistery? Care to explain?"

"What did you do, Rachel?" Remy's voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the danger underlining it. "I gave you de information to find Xorn, not- take us here." Unlike the others, Remy had heard the tale from the girl about her history, and with the memories and the smoke billowing out of the burnt and scarred Muir Island Research Facility, he had made the logical leap.

"Dear lord... I don't believe it. I don't-" The rain was coming down, ignored as always by the stoic scientist. There was more silver in his hair now, and the lines on his face had been deeply etched. "Rachel. My god, girl. You made it back." Essex stood in front of her and touched the side of her face gently.

Jim, still trying to process a sudden influx of unfamiliar memories, felt his blood run to ice at the familiar voice. Essex -- Genosha -- he'd kidnapped Betsy, perfected the mutate process, been willing to let a whole country burn to get what he wanted -- but his mind immediately slammed into a brick wall of conflicting information. He remembered the man's participation in strategy meetings with himself and the other field leaders, particularly as representative of the settlement's non-combativeness, and the protectiveness he'd shown towards Rachel after her parents' death -- a warmer side than Jim had known from the man during his own experience with him on Muir. This was someone he respected. An ally.

Wait . . . wait, Rachel?

The enormity of the situation was overwhelming, and the questions and confused looks only made it worse. How could she explain to these people what she had done? She had brought back a child for Christ’s sake. Rachel gripped Essex in a tight hug, head buried in his shoulder as she took the opportunity to just breathe, taking all the comfort she could get from his familiar presence. When she stepped back a moment later, she was visibly more composed as she mustered a wan smile for her teacher.

“Mission accomplished, Sir. Can we take a moment? Get ‘em out of the rain an’ do a briefing?” She glanced around at the scurrying figures, gaze sharper now. “Or is a shitstorm about to hit?”

"We still have twelve hours. Maybe even a few more." He touched the back of her head for a moment before releasing her; like a blessing. His face was more open than they were used to, more animated and aged. "Angelo, Wanda... Remy. Tremendous." His hands shook slightly, and he stuffed them deep into his jacket. "Come, get out of the rain. I think they've transhipped most of the food, but I know I can provide some coffee."

"Wait. Just wait a minute. How de hell are we here?" Remy said, holding up one hand.

"Because I asked her to find you and bring you. It was the only way. This is a dying world, Remy. I saw one, last desperate chance to save it, and I sent the only one who was strong enough to do it. It's my fault, I'm afraid." He blinked rapidly against the rain. "Please, come inside. We can talk there."

Wanda's hands were shoved deep into jeans pockets in order to hide the sudden shaking because, despite not even turning her powers on, the entire place felt wrong to her. She had no idea what Rachel had managed to do but wherever they were, it pressed down on her like a dull weight. "I have no idea what is going on here," she said quietly, "or where we are but I think ..." She choked down on his name, confused. "I think he is correct. Inside is better than being out here."

Much like Wanda, Sam had no idea what was going on either, exactly, but he liked the idea of discussing it elsewhere. "Agreed, let's get inside and figure this out." There were so many thoughts swirling around his head, from the events of Genosha, the aftermath of that, leading right up to now and whatever had happened to lead them there, and from the sounds of it he wasn't the only one experiencing that level of confusion. Sam was all for discussing things and formulating a plan before rushing into anything, and getting in out of the rain would be a nice bonus.

Inside, Muir looked very different. The bones of the old research lab were there, but they had long been retooled to provide makeshift barracks, armouries, technical readouts and emergency medical bays. Essex led them along, avoiding the refugees who streamed past. Occasionally, one would stop to point one of them out, but they were hustled back into motion.

"The last flights are leaving now. We've got a secondary shield wall now active on the north coast, running from the junction in northern Portugal all the way up and into the north of Norway. It's nowhere near as powerful as the Atlantic seawall, but it should buy some time. Unfortunately, it looked like China's military has finally collapsed. At least three nuclear detonations have taken place near populated centres. It's only a matter of time before it is down to Neramani's Guard and Vazhin's... whatever he'd got cooked up as our last line in the West."

“So we’re evacuating Muir… and going where?” They had their backs up against the wall again and were running out of places to run. Rachel had little doubt that neither Nermani nor Vazhin would last for much longer once Apocalypse trampled over them. Muir had been one of the last hidden strongholds. But. “Nevermind,” she interjected before Essex could reply. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”

They were led right to the CIC, which was strangely empty and Rachel briefly wondered where Kurt was as their group filed into the war room and around the table. The door had barely closed before she started speaking again, voice pitched low and earnest but in a flatly serious tone. “I am Rachel Dayspring and this is the world I grew up in. It’s a dying world. Apocalypse’s forces are in power. The Prof sent me to your world to seek your help.” She sought out Remy’s hard gaze. “I found Xorn. He made me choose the group to bring with me right there and then – I didn’t have the time to ask for permission and for that, I’m sorry. It was a chance I couldn’t turn down and I hope you can understand that. Prof has a plan. There’s still hope for this world and I will do all that is within my power to make sure you return back to yours, even if the plan fails.”

"You can't guarantee dat, Rachel. And now you've brought us into a broken seige wit-"

"Remy, please. She- we had no choice. And she's always followed your teaching; do what you must." Essex said quietly as he took a seat at the table. A nervous looking girl brought a carafe of coffee, before being shooed off to her flight. "Rachel is correct. And not. Apocalypse will break Muir in a matter of hours, which represents the largest of the defenses against his men. Once they were able to bring the Atlantic Seawall down, the choice became saving the United Kingdom or the rest of mainland Europe. The remaining teams of X-Men have to be relocated to European bases, to help coordinate the last defenses. However, it has become clear to the surviving human states that Apocalypse cannot be beaten one on one. Our Remy made a last ditch effort to bring him down shortly before Rachel was sent across the Spiral. He took our best team with him on a one way mission. And he failed."

He sighed heavily, taking a sip from his mug. "The remaining UN leaders are in agreement. Taking Britain will stretch Apocalypse's strength temporarily. As he moves to consolidate it, they will attack the Americas with every nuclear weapon they can launch. At the same time, strongholds in occupied lands in Asia, Africa and Australia will be targeted with bioweapons and conventional munitions. The UN is willing to sacrifice two-thirds of life on this planet in the hopes of killing Apocalypse and shattering his empire."

"And what are we supposed to do about that?" Angelo demanded, standing protectively close to Molly. "Six extra people including a 15-year-old girl, powers or not... exactly what difference do you think we can make?"

Hands awkwardly stuck in her pockets, Molly kicked a pebble. She tried to listen but the memories in her head swam around with the others. It didn't feel real, like a movie. She remembered bad things, blood, and parts, and fights with people that used to be good and weren't good anymore and dead people, so many dead people. But her older self seemed to be able to handle it. She wasn't sure she could. What would her old self do?

"The bad guy doesn't know we're here? It's a surprise," she said, then made a face and immediately piped down, realizing she shouldn't talk while the adults were talking. She stared at the ground instead.

"Sorry."

This was almost too much to wrap her mind around. For everything Wanda had seen and done, this certainly topped the list of too much to believe. Leaning against the nearest wall she could, she attempted to put her brain back together. "Angelo has a point," she said slowly, arms crossed over her ribcage - she felt far too cold for comfort - as she turned towards Rachel and Essex. "In your world, this version of Apocalypse seems to have most of the world in his hand. Why us, Rachel? Some here you must know well, the rest of us not as much."

Leaning forward, she continued, "From the sounds of it, your world is burning. How are we supposed to tip the scales in your favor?"

“You were chosen based on your power skillsets – or, rather, the skillsets of your counterparts in this world. Granted, I was working with limited info, since I haven’t met most of you. Which is why… -- in this world, Rosie is in her twenties and an unstoppable force. But she’s right. We have the element of surprise right now.” Weary green eyes landed on Molly, an apologetic, half-fond look on her face. Then Rachel placed both palms on the table and leaned forward, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “Jellybean, you told me that you would he—“

Abruptly, the psion cut herself off mid-sentence and watched the door attentively, a wry half-smile quirking her lips upward. Three seconds later, it was thrown open.

"I hope our guests have had enough time to get acclimated to this god awful show." Commander Braddock entered the CIC, with a dour face. "Three-quarters of our people have managed to get off sight. Small mercies. We're hoping to have the remaining survivors and supplies out in the next ninety. Looks like we'll have most everyone evacuated in time." This woman was this world's version of Elisabeth Braddock, still tall, slender, and with her trademark purple hair but styled in a short militant bob. The telepath also had the most vibrant pair of blue eyes. She reached Essex, clasped his aging hand, kissed it, and sighed. "And you should be with them, my love."

"No. We talked about this, dear. I have to go. No one else can activate the system." He gave her a warm grasp, fingers sliding over the back of her hand. "My wife is coordinating the remaining X-Men forces. The last line of defense. Don't think we're not aware of the stakes here."

No, Jim thought as he stared at a public display of affection that unnerved him thirteen levels-deep. No, this was absolutely not enough time to get acclimated. They'd just been told the world was on the brink of annihilation, and now he was sitting here confronted with a version of his lover married to the man who'd twice violated her mind to further his own designs. But they didn't have a choice, did they? These people didn't have time to deal with whatever baggage they're dragged across from their own world. And -- he sensed no ingrained telepathic sensitivity to this Betsy, he realized. In all the years this world's versions had known one another, his borrowed memories turned up nothing more between them than a professional relationship.

That was something, at least.

"I'm guessing you didn't bring us here just to aid in the evacuation," Jim said, slowly dragging his gaze from the couple's entwined hands. "What do you want us to do?"

"As I mentioned, our LeBeau took our last powerful strike team on an attempt to eliminate Apocalypse directly. It was his choice of the two opinions remaining. Knowing him, he nearly succeeded. The other option is no less dangerous. Before I returned to Xavier's, I had been working in a private lab for USAMRIID. Following Apocalypse's first attack on New York, clean up crews located a finger severed from the man's hand during combat. Using the genetic materials, I was able to begin tailoring a genophage designed to target Apocalypse's genetic signature. More importantly, it also targets those who he has used his powers on. When Apocalypse amplifies the abilities of a mutant, there's a slight genetic exchange that takes place, marking them as his. This virus, if it works, could wipe out Apocalypse, his Horsemen, senior leadership, Prelates and the core of his forces in a matter of days."

"Why would I have opted a suicide assassination run instead of dat?" Remy said darkly.

"Because the virus is in my old lab, which is deep in the Hudson Valley, entirely controlled by Apocalypse and near his Citadel. It also remains close to the pens, where his experiments are conducted. LeBeau thought he had identified a time and place where he could catch Apocalypse without his security detail. Reaching him in that situation was far more likely than reaching the lab through the core of his forces. There's also a chance the virus doesn't work. It's never been tested, and I was cut off from my research when Apocalypse took New York the second time. It is my fault. I underestimated the severity of the threat. After all, he'd been thoroughly beaten once by the X-Men." His eyes skipped from Rachel's to Betsy's. "My hubris helped to damn us."

"And you could still save us," Betsy groused. "If your mind wasn't the proverbial tabula rosa, I'd pull the knowledge from it and do the mission myself." She regarded the motley crew and grimaced. Their jumbled thoughts, their disorientation, two minds merging into one. The telepath felt the dissonance and it was wrong. "Instead, here we are with our last ditch effort before the fall and surprisingly, I'm not overcome by a strong feeling of confidence."

She closed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the rising tide of anger. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I mean no disrespect but this is our last chance to save our world and we're handing off the charge to people who feel no real connection to it. How are we supposed to ask that of you? And why would you help?"

Working such long, countless hours, she knew her shields weren't as steady as she liked and the exhaustion didn't help. Betsy took a moment to reinforce them, to find center when....

Her eyes flew open and turned their gaze onto Haller. Despite his calm facade, he was a tumult of emotion, if she could articulate it, he was close to having a fit. And then, there were the voices, not two but more. Three more? Four? How could his mind handle it? "Christ..."

Jim felt his face warm as he realized what she was picking up; apparently they'd been familiar enough with each other that she knew what this world's version of him should feel like. He dropped his eyes and tried to find something interesting to examine on the surface of the table. Great. He hadn't been crazy in this world, either. Rachel was in for a surprise.

"We want to help because that's what we do. It's who we are." They were getting off topic, or so it seemed to Sam from what little he'd been able to gather from their conversations. He was still wrestling in the attempt to wrap his mind around everything but the least he could do was to try and keep them centered on what they could possibly do to help. "So this plan, what can we do to help?"

Wanda looked back at Rachel and added, "We also need to help because that might be the only way we can return to where you took us from, correct? This is not a one-way trip - is it?"

"No, it isn't. I told you I'll do anything in my powers to get you back. Even at the cost of my life." Impossibly green eyes slid from Wanda to Essex. The professor had not outlined a return home plan for them, but the redhead knew better than to reveal that fact - or the terms discussed with Xorn. Sending a group as large as this down the spiral would either strip her of the rest of her powers or kill her outright. But those were prices she was willing to pay. Rachel stared hard at her teacher. "Don't worry."

"There is a method to send you back. And Rachel is not incorrect. It could very well cost her life to do so. Hopefully this shows just how desperate we are." Essex said. "We have a ship - the very last of the SR-71 Blackbirds, equipped with the best stealth system Forge could make. If we're right, it should allow us to breach Apocalypse's radar, land near the lab, and then reach it before his men can organize a strike force large enough to overwhelm us. That is why I expect Rachel chose you in specific. Ms Hayes invulnerability and strength makes her a pivot on which forces can face incoming threats. Mr Guthrie and Ms Maximoff offer unparalleled ability to disrupt attacking waves and break unit cohesion. Mr Haller not only represents a powerful psionic countermeasure, but in this world, he and Rachel have worked in unison many times. Mr Espinosa is a powerful deterrent against armored countermeasures, being able to comprise their armor and shields without exposing himself to fire. And Remy - I dare say that there isn't anyone else she'd trust a last, desperate mission to, and the one who trained her can't be here. I can't imagine what you are in your world, but here - in this place, you are the team with the best chance of success."

It was strange seeing emotion from Essex; an earnestness in his pleading. Here was a man who's world hung in the balance begging for help with people who had no reason to give it. "But, we are not Apocalypse. We will not hold you here against your will. If you choose, we can attempt to return you to your world immediately."

Remy's eyes reflected darkly the overhead light. He was angry, but it wasn't the same as before. "If you could give us a few minutes." He said coldly, eyes flicking between Essex and Betsy, never Rachel. "Think dat we need some privacy to discuss... dis."

"Of course." Essex pushed himself away from the table.

"Yes, please," Betsy said as she joined her husband, turning her back on the assembled group. "Take all the time of what's left in our world to decide but do mind the cinder on your way out."

"Chis, we'll talk about this later", Angelo said as the two left, focusing directly on Rachel and ignoring the two older fighters. When the door closed behind them, he turned back to the others. "For now... it doesn't seem like they've given us a lot of choice."

"Dey've given us every choice." Remy said. "If everyone wants to leave now, we can. You heard him."
He could see Rachel's eyes darken. It had to be killing her that Essex had offered to send them back rather than force them to risk their lives. And that was something that had to be dealt with, now. "So, maybe den you want to talk to de rest of dem, Rachel. Tell dem why dey should stay?"

“I cannae,” she admitted softly, rubbing a hand down her face, leaving her expression open and vulnerable. “There is nae a thing I can offer, an’ nae a thing aside from desperate need to justify bringin’ you here to fight for a world tha’ is nae yours. All I can do is beg for yer help an’ try to appeal to yer sense of justice to fight wi’ us an’ stop monster who has already killed so many an’ destroyed so much. If that’s nae enough fer you…” Rachel shrugged, her young face looking wan and worn. “Then I will give you my life an’ send you safely home. ‘Cause t’least then you’d be safe in yer world and I wouldnae have to watch as this one dies.”

"What?" Molly said, her eyes widening. "You'd die? No! What? How? Why?" She didn't know what to say to that, or any of this. She didn't want anyone to die at all.

But people WERE dying and it was like an apocalypse movie, LITERALLY, and even though she knew why Rachel wanted her there cause of old her this was still bad and she wasn't old her she was young her and young her was confused. This was really bad.

Also, she wondered why she was talking funny all of a sudden but she didn't say anything about that.

"A cross-dimensional shift can't be easy. I'm guessing the power has to come from somewhere. Or someone." Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make himself think straight. When Rachel had appeared in their world months ago the professor had examined her mind to determine whether she was who she claimed to be before she'd left in search of a way back. Though he'd verified her claims no one had expected to see that world first-hand. The borrowed memories now made it clear that all attempts to describe it had been inadequate.

"We're here regardless," the telepath said slowly. "It's still a world, even if it's not ours. I don't know if I can walk away from that." He glanced at Angelo, but refrained from adding: Rachel's parents have already lost her in our world. I won't tell them she sacrificed herself in this one.

"I think you're right." Sam added, looking around at the others. "It might not be ours but if it needs protectin' and we're in a position to do so, then we do so." It was how he'd been raised, after all: to help those that couldn't help themselves. It was what they did, or tried to do at least, in their own dimension, so it only made sense to him that they do the same there.

"Dere's only one way dat we do dis, and dat's unanimously. Rachel, I can understand de sacrifice in bringing us here, but you Essex is right. No one is going to be forced to fight." He looked over at Molly. "Dis is important, petite. You got as much say as everybody here."

It took Molly a moment to realize the man meant her. He'd stopped talking and suddenly everyone was staring. They all had different looks on their faces, tired, sad, thoughtful, determined. And they were waiting on her.

"I--" Molly said, her eyelashes fluttering as she glanced around just to make sure. "Um. Really?" She didn't expect that. She kinda just went with what everyone else did. Cause she was the youngest. No one really asked her.

She fidgeted with her shirt, then straightened. Yep, they were still staring.

"Um...I...think if bad guys are hurting people and we can help then we should. Cause, that's what good guys do?"

Despite herself, Wanda smiled. "Our mission at its very essence," she said, glancing over at Rachel. "Even if this was not our only way home, I doubt I could walk away. I am in."

Angelo still looked less than pleased with the situation, but nodded. "I did say I'd help if I could. Can't say this is how I had in mind, but... we're here now. I'm in."

A warm feeling had blossomed in Rachel’s chest as each of them spoke in turn – a sensation of hope which she had not felt for a long time – and the teenager did not stop the grateful smile from lifting the corners of her lips. “Thank you, all of you,” she said, having never meant those words more in her life. Green eyes slid over to one brooding Cajun. “What say you, Remy?”

"Everybody should get a couple of hours of rest if dey can. We'll meet back here in two hours to brief on de mission and how we going to execute it. Rachel, dat gives you just under ninety minutes to put together all de information you can for me to review. You say dat Remy trained you? If dat's de case, you should know what I want to see in terms of intel. Wanda, Remy need a quiet word wit' you and David before you leave." Remy said, already switching into his professional voice. "We've got no time to practice being a team, so you going to have to trust me when I tell you what to do, and trust each other to do de same. Dat's de only way dat we make it out of dis alive. Questions? Non? Bein, let's get to work."