Great Attractors: Return

[x-legion.livejournal.com]

It was all a dream. A horrible, horrible dream. Or at least that's what we'll be telling ourselves from now on.



Meggan finally opened her eyes, and quickly checked around the room. Everything was normal in her brain, everything was normal outside, she was really awake this time, and Candyland Hell was no longer a thing. There were no bluebirds worshiping Emma Forst. There was no Martian Bambi stalking Meggan through licorice grass. This was great. This was much saner. She was grateful there weren’t lingering dripping emanations of some kind from the thing, like never being able to be anything but chipper and nothing else until the end of her day.

Or her head exploding, she realized a moment later, because there wouldn’t be a chipper to the end of her days kind of scenario if the parasite had won. That was the main thing to be thankful that all the psychics helped them avoid. She sat up, and then wondered if Topaz was okay. Topaz got the darker half. Meggan’s had been strange, so she could only imagine the mess that came from something worse. So she might have gotten something worse than she did. She swiftly got out of bed, gently closed the door behind her, and made her way through the halls.

She had a mild feeling of a sort of hangover, but it wasn’t enough to leave her stuck in bed. It could be the lateness of the hour, mixed with everything else. Aspirin might be welcome later.

She stopped outside the door, but didn’t want to knock. “Topaz,” Meggan whispered. Just loud enough to be heard, but not so loud that it would wake anyone else up that wasn’t already awake. “Are you up?”

Topaz's eyes snapped open - and immediately snapped shut again as her head pulsed angrily. She should have expected a headache from hell after everything that had happened, but there was no way to prepare one's self for this kind of pain.

She rolled over with a groan, pressing her face into the pillow and mumbling, "God I hate this place."

A knock at the door disrupted her plan to Never Get Out Of Bed Again, and for a moment she seriously considered just ignoring it. But the quiet voice was Meggan's, and she wouldn't feel right ignoring that. So instead she stumbled blindly out of bed, refusing to turn on any lights for her journey to the door. She squinted against the hallway lights as she opened the door, muttering, "Come in, come in," in a thickly accented voice.

Meggan hurried in, and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. She understood. She would try to avoid running into anything sharp, if it were at all possible. “It all almost feels like a hangover, or like you’ve been awake for many, many days longer than you should have, doesn’t it?” she said in a hushed voice. She didn’t want to hurt Topaz’ head more than it already was.

"Bit like both at the same time, honestly," Topaz mumbled. She'd been hungover. She'd had severe sleep deprivation. Neither of them alone were this bad. "You alright? Sounds like you lot had a bit of a rough time."

“I think so? Mostly. I was about to ask you that,” Meggan admitted. “Since I thought your side probably had the darker half, before all the fighting to get it out at the end.” As she’d said during everything, she just really wished bad things would stop funneling dreams into people. “Something worse than M&M dragonflies, six legged white chocolate strawberry cows, and a molasses river and sludge that just felt…off.” Even before anyone had fallen in, it had been unnerving.

"It wasn't too bad." Well it hadn't been for Topaz, at least. But considering the position she'd found Haller, Dr. Grey, and Rachel in, she had a feeling it'd been rough for them. She rubbed her temples, sucking in a deep breath. "Just a library with puddles." Downplay, downplay, downplay. Always downplay.

“And were the puddles filled with anything off, like my river? Did the books melt or bite?” If one side had something wrong, maybe the other did, too. Meggan wondered if the puddles would make people angry or sad. She was going on the logic that everything was the exact opposite of hers.

"Just water," Topaz murmured. "The books were just...memories." She closed her eyes at that, letting her shoulders fall. "Guess the others had it pretty good on my side all things considered."

“Bad memories?” Meggan really didn’t want to pry or upset her, but if something had stirred up bad things, it couldn’t be helped. If there was an area of memories in physical form on her side, she had probably just missed it. At the last comment, she didn’t think that anybody that was dragged into another’s brain had things that good.

"Bit of both from what I saw. I didn't ask what the others saw." She wanted to know what they saw - but at the same time she didn't. She couldn't shake off the slight feeling of violation. But it couldn't be helped now. She shook her head, taking a deep breath. The pain seemed to have ease a bit. "What about you? What happened?" She wanted to get the subject off herself.

Meggan wanted to ask, but at the same time wasn’t certain. “At first, there was perkiness, but it was heightened so much that everything over there was Candyland. And cartoons of animals. I kept running into things that just felt wrong. Like a big sign saying ‘do not touch.’ I want to say it was Candyland Hell, but I don’t know if that’s really right.” She tried to put it into words, but it was just so surreal. “Miss Frost was worshiped by the unicorn and bluebirds after she hurt herself trying to get out. The squirrels hated Quentin, even before he fell in the river, and had a—a temporary attack of perkiness.”

In Meggan’s opinion, there was perky, and then there was ‘Good God, what is that horror decked out like Mickey Mouse with angel wings and flowers sprouting from his face, while bouncing on the trampoline made of cotton candy.’ She was pretty sure the parasite had buried the needle on registering the latter in the whole situation. Well, before the extraction had begun. “Where I touched the molasses, it became water, though.” She paused. “What happened with you?”

"Even manifestations of a mind warped by a parasite don't like Quire," Topaz murmured dryly, rubbing the back of her head. "I...woke up in this caged area. Like you know, a special section in a library. It looked like a hurricane had gone through or somethin', water was drippin' from nowhere and there were puddles and..." She drifted off for a moment, remembering opening the books and seeing the memories of Alice and Luca...

She shook her head, trying to shake it all off. "I don't know. Somethin' happened when the others stepped in the puddles, I didn't ask though. They were pretty shaken up when I found them all."

“Oh. Sorry. I…don’t think there were more cages anywhere in mine,” Meggan whispered with worry for Topaz. Meggan was surprised, but if the parasite wanted to attempt to lull her with pleasant things, a lack of cages would be the way to go. “Mine was endless grassy meadows, before you hit the forest dripping with happy causing goo. The grass was licorice. Part of the forest might have been gingerbread under that stuff.” She wondered what happened with the others in the library, too, but if Topaz didn’t know, then she didn’t want to speculate.

She wanted to hug her--a normal, non-parasite possessed, non-overwhelming joy hug--but wasn’t sure Topaz would accept when both their heads were throbbing.

"Sounds like it could've been pleasant. Ya know, if not for the parasite makin' everythin' weird and dangerous." Topaz wondered if the library in her mind was ever pleasant. The water was probably because of the parasite, but was it always so dark and empty and lonely?

The thought was a bit depressing.

Topaz shook the thought off again, eyeing Meggan for a moment. The desire for normal, physical contact was rolling off of her pretty heavily, and after a moment Topaz held her arms out uncertainly - an offer.

“The whole time, I was scared that at some point I would look up…and the sun baby from Teletubbies would be looking back at me and giggling,” Meggan admitted after a moment's hesitation. It sounded weird, but given what she’d seen with the woodland creatures, that was always a distinct possibility. “Maybe without that niggling little confusion at whether or not I was possessed due to how strange it all was, yeah? Maybe? If there wasn’t stuff contaminating everything. And except for Anime Martian Bambi with the sad but adorable eyes.”

With a small smile that was probably lost in the darkness of the room, Meggan accepted the offer and moved to lean in.

Topaz wasn't really giving one for hugs, but she figured Meggan wouldn't mind if she was a little awkward and horrible about it. She needed this too, even if she wouldn't admit it to anyone. The whole experience had shaken her up something fierce.

"It's over," she said quietly after a moment, sighing lightly. The pain in her head eased a bit more. Thank god.

“And our heads didn’t explode like a popped balloon,” Meggan whispered with relief. That had been one scary possibility. It was worse than someone walking off with either of their bodies. The headache didn’t throb as much right now. She leaned closer and shifted over, so she wouldn’t be at an almost painful angle.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch." Hope muttered as she stumbled inside and caught sight of the other two young women. "Please tell me you also have the marching band going on inside your head?"

Topaz pulled away, smiling a bit blandly. "Hang on, I have aspirin," she said, heading for the bathroom.

“The marching band decided to bring too many cymbals and drums to the party, and not enough flutes,” Meggan agreed with a wince as she let go. That analogy didn’t completely make sense, but it was good enough. “Aspirin for everybody. Hope, you were next on my disorganized and throbbing mental checklist. You’re not hurt more than the headache?” She had worried.

"Stiff as hell and kinda dizzy, but okay." Hope replied shortly "Have we heard from any of the others we saw. Ms. Frost, Dr. Grey or Mr. Haller?" She sank into a chair, cradling her head.

“Not yet,” Meggan replied with a careful shake of her head. She was glad there wasn’t more than that for Hope. “We probably need to check in with everybody before we all fall over.” She wanted to see how they were physically...especially after the parasite had fought back.

Topaz returned with a nearly empty bottle of aspirin, staring at it blearily. "I just bought this," she grumbled as she dealt out the last of the pills to the other women. The recent spell of headaches and migraines suddenly made sense. Stupid parasite.

“I was having a no longer so mysterious perky attack that almost won against the parasite induced headaches earlier. Almost,” Meggan said as she gratefully took the offered pill. So she knew what Topaz must have felt. She thought for a second. The parasite would explain the strange need—which she had barely resisted—just prior to everything to go out and kidnap all the puppies and cuddle them forever and ever.

"Thanks Topaz." Hope said as she accepted the pill. "I wonder though... maybe we should head downstairs first... the docs might want to check us over before we start taking medication?"

“Or before we sleep,” Meggan quietly agreed after a second of looking at the aspirin. Would it hurt them after just getting out of one mess? Was there protocol for aspirin post infestations? It was confusing. She had never been infested before, just possessed. She wasn’t sure, and thought Hope was right. “So…I guess stick them in a pocket until we’re all cleared?”

Topaz weighed her options for a moment before popping the pills back and muttering, "I'll take my chances. Should we go now?"

"The sooner we get cleared, the sooner we can take something. I say we go now." Hope stood up slowly and started making her way to the door. "Hopefully the others will be there as well. One of you have your phones? We can send a ping we are coming..."

Topaz looked blearily back at her door and shuffled off to get her phone. She really just wanted to go back to bed.

“Mine’s back in the bedroom, I think,” Meggan realized. She hadn’t thought to grab it on the way out. She could pick it up later.





Working in an ER, you got used to the sound of an ambulance speeding its way into the hospital, its sirens blaring, wailing for attention, signaling to either get out of the way or come and help. But usually they weren't screaming in your ears.

Or at least, that was what Jean had thought when she heard the sound. She had already started to stir a little by the flash of light in front of her eyes, giving the illusion of morning, the events in Topaz and Meggan's mind having just passed, but still groggy and disoriented from sleep.

But something felt warm, too warm. Something smelled like smoke. And suddenly...it didn't feel warm at all as a faint hiss was heard over the alarms, sending out a stream of water from the sprinklers overhead.

Naturally, Jean screamed, and became tangled in the covers as she scrambled to climb out of bed, falling off with a heavy thud.

The shrilling of the fire alarm in Jean's room was loud enough to be heard in the bed that Doug and Laurie shared, even if their own alarm and sprinklers hadn't gone off. (With the number of fire-related powers and potential for mishap, having one room set off an entire wing's worth of alarms was a poor idea.) "The hell?" he murmured as he struggled toward full wakefulness, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

Laurie herself was already out of the bed and heading toward the door before her brain caught up with her movements, the perils of X-man training and Scott Summers making sure 'be up and in uniforms in under 5 minutes' was not just a goal but a reality.

"I think it's Jean's room," Laurie said, returning to pull Doug out of bed and over to the door. "We've got to make sure she's okay."

The urgency in Laurie's voice pulled Doug the rest of the way awake, and he had the presence of mind to snag one of his escrima sticks from near the door in case the noises and scream were the result of some kind of attack.

"Jean?" he called as they crossed the common area, coupled with a telepathic 'ping' directed at her room.

The only answer came from the shriek of the alarm.

Laurie took the door to Jean's room at a run, slamming it back as she took in salient details.

"Jean!?"

Stunned, Jean sat on the ground at the base of the bed. Reflex had been replaced by memory as everything that just happened came rushing back and she bore witness to the aftermath. Thick tendrils of smoke curled off of her, mingling with the spray of water. The blankets, sheets, and mattress showed evidence of light charring and billowed heavily with smoke as well.

Glancing up, she met Doug and Laurie’s gaze with a look like someone who had been caught playing with matches, except they were the match.

“Is…Is this real?”

It seemed like she would never stay dry.

"Well, I suppose we could get into a discussion on the nature of reality, and solipism and all that..." Doug joked, filling up the space with chatter as he crouched in front of Jean, a little more than an arm's reach away. "Do you know who you are?" he asked, one of the classic first questions to assess someone's mental state. His tone was calm and gentle without being patronizing or demeaning.

Jean blinked at him, thrown off by the question. “What?” she said, the bewilderment on her face not helping her answer.

“Um….Jean,” she added, brushing away wet strands of hair from her face.

“We…there was something…something…wrong on the astral plane. It’s fixed,” she said faintly, putting her hand to her temple.

“God, my head.”

Every pulse of the alarm was like someone turning a vise tighter around her skull.

Laurie had gone into Doctor mode as soon as she sighted Jean, and she now waved Doug away in order to get a better look at her eyes.

They seemed clear enough, if a little dazed but telepathic burn out was different to a physical ailment.

"Jean, I need you to come with me to the Medlab - do you think you can walk unassisted?"

Closing her eyes, Jean gave a non-committal cross between a shrug and a grunt.

"Maybe," she said as she peeled her way out of the covers and pulled herself up to her feet like a newborn colt. The sprinklers had finally turned off, and Jean glanced around. It was all ruined. She put her hand to her stomach, which was turning from everything that happened. She felt nauseated.

The motion as Jean stood made Doug belatedly realize that the sprinklers had soaked everything in the room - including Jean's sleep shirt. His eyes abruptly flicked away as he gave himself the mental equivalent of a thwap across the nose with a rolled up newspaper. ~Jeez, Ramsey, this is a small crisis, quit looking at her boobs and be helpful.~ He stood himself and looked around. "Do you want me to come with you two just in case?" he asked.

Jean blinked at Doug, quickly looking down and covering herself before realizing she'd heard that. She must have really been out of sorts if her usual defenses were off kilter.

"Sorry," she mumbled apologetically, then shook her head. "I'll be fine, but thanks."

She turned back to Laurie. "I think I should go to the Box when we're done," she said quietly.

"Of course," Laurie replied, and she placed a hand at the small of Jean's back - schooling her own thoughts to something soothing as she gave the other woman a small push. "Let's get you checked out and then I'll make sure you get to the box."





Emma normally woke quickly, but being ejected from Meggan's (or was it Topaz's?) mindscape made for a particularly abrupt transition from sleep to wakefulness.

Before she had time to think about it (or for the headache to hit), she reached out and confirmed the right number of psis and sensitives were in their rooms and in varying states of confused wakefulness. A quick scan let her know they were unharmed by the night's adventures, at the superficially obvious level at least.

Anything beyond superficially obvious could wait until morning, decided Emma. What couldn't wait was a truly ravenous sense of hunger that arose from using her powers for so long and so strenuously to remove the parasite.

Too tired to reach out with her mind, Emma hit Daniel Humm's number on her speed dial. The chef's voice was tired when he responded, but brightened considerably at the sound of his favourite private client's murmured apology for calling him so late.

"I need a feast," Emma purred at the Swiss chef. "You know what I like to eat. In twice the quantities I normally order." She stopped for a moment, a sudden memory of how many (so many) adoring eyes suddenly invading her memory. She thought for a moment and then sighed. "And Daniel, make it vegetarian, please."





In her rooms, all of 14 awoke with a start. Judging by the sounds coming from down the hall, everyone else was awake too. That had not been fun.

Irma and Esme slipped out of their room and into that of their sisters. Esme specifically still felt like death warmed over, and there was nothing that couldn't be taken care of in the morning.

Now if she could just stop her hands from shaking.





Everything fell apart, and Quentin felt himself falling down, as if he'd been pushed off a building. The wind rushed past his face and he flailed wildly, trying to slow himself down somehow. And then it stopped.

Quentin yelped and sat up in bed, fighting to catch his breath, his heart pounding loudly enough to be heard. The contaminated psiscapes were gone, he wasn't stuck in Topaz's house of horrors or Meggan's infantile cartoon world, and he wasn't sharing mind space with a dozen other psychics. For better or worse, he was back at Xavier's in his own room, alone save for the companion next to him under the covers.

The other body shot up at the yelp, scooting away from the scream. "What?" Gabriel stared at him, a little wide-eyed and confused. "Hey, hey," he shifted positions, casting the sheets aside in a split-second and grabbing Quentin's shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Nightmare," Quentin panted, reflexively leaning into the offer of comfort. He wiped his face with a trembling hand. "Something happened on the Astral Plane. These little psychic viruses or something. Grabbed all of the psis here. It was fucking Quebec all over again, except we were stuck between Topaz's and whatsherface's brain instead of some random body. What time is it?"

"Um..." Gabriel glanced around. "I dunno." Somewhat hesitantly, he released his grip on Quentin so he could reach over the younger man and grab his phone off the nearest nightstand. "2ish. 2 something." He looked back at Quentin, not bothering to hide the concern from his face. "Are you — I mean, shit, Q." He scooted back to his position on the bed but leaned up against the headboard. "Are you okay?"

It was still so early. Even though it felt like hours in the Astral Plane, barely any time had passed in the real world. That was a good thing, Quentin reasoned, certainly better than being in a coma for days while fighting to break free. Quentin fell back down onto his pillow, his breath steadying. "It's fine. I'll be fine. Frost and Jean and whatshisname, the guy with the hair, we all fixed most of it. It's just a shock to be back. Shit. It was just a bad fucking trip."

"Sounds like." Gabriel wasn't entirely sure what to say. But he knew that this last trip to the astral plane was hardly a vacation. He slid down until he was more or less prone. "You want to talk about it? Or you want to sleep? Or what?"

Quentin was quiet for a moment as he forced himself to return to calm. He was overreacting, part of him knew. He was safe, no harm done. Just stop thinking about it, focus on something else, and it'll all go away.

In one quick motion, Quentin rolled on top of Gabriel and kissed him, pinning Gabriel down to the bed. It was several seconds before Quentin slowly pulled away. "I choose 'what.'"





Rachel sat up on the floor of the lab she had effectively taken over without permission, groaned, and hauled herself to her feet. Tugging on the jacket she had been using as a pillow, she stumbled out and towards the residences, flying over steps she was sure she did not want to navigate.

“Open up, David,” she called, fists thudding against his door. Her previous knocks had gone unanswered, and patience was not a commodity she stored in abundance. “I will break down your door and make you pay for it."

Her demands were met with silence. Then, just before the point Rachel would have been justified in a little destruction of property, the knob turned.

The face through the gap in the door was blank, but his eyes still skimmed the redhead for assessment. "You made it back," Haller observed. "Good, that means the others probably did, too." Mechanically, he turned to head back into the depths of his room. "I'd better call Charles."

She swiftly circled around him to block his path, door banging shut with the lightest touch of her powers she was capable of. Arms crossed against her chest, Rachel peered up at him with an arched brow. "You're doing it again, David. Or should I say: You're still doing it, David."

"I'm doing my job." Haller raised his hand, and his cellphone flew off his bedside table and jumped into his palm. Completely ignoring Rachel, he unlocked it and began scrolling through his contacts. The screen light painted his face a sickly blue.

“Does taking care of yourself have to be part of your job before you will do it?” She demanded, resisting the urge to slap the phone of out Haller’s hands when he continued to ignore her. “I’m sorry I let this go on for so long without at least trying to help, and maybe I’m the last person in this place that has the right to lecture you about mental health. But I saw what happened with your powers. How are you going to do your all-important job if you can’t be relied on to use them? What if I wasn’t there? Would you have had Jean burn a hole through the girl’s--?”

Abruptly cutting herself off, Rachel swallowed, carding fingers roughly through messy hair. For a brief moment in time, the façade wavered, long-hidden weariness showing in the curve of her neck and slack shoulders, in plain sight for him to see – If he took enough care to look. With a deep breath, she collected herself and fixed a steely gaze on his phone in lieu of having to bear his dispassionate face. “Are you going to let that hole in your head consume you?”

Something wavered behind Haller's eyes. For just an instant it seemed like the dam would finally crumble. There, in the darkness of the early morning, the space between them teetered on the edge of denial and acceptance.

And then it passed.

The door behind Rachel opened, and the girl was suddenly lifted off her feet and pushed back -- carried by a wave of telekinesis as inexorably as a body being washed out by the tide. It set her down beyond the threshold, and as her feet returned to the floor the door swung closed and locked behind her with a solid, final click.

The last thing she saw was Haller, turning away.

"Oh, so now your powers work!" Rachel snarled, expression ugly and face flushed a mottled red as she raised a telekinetically charged fist at the door, ready to shatter the offending wood into pieces so that some sense could be throttled into her adopted brother.

It never connected.

The redhead dropped her arm limply to her side, destruction aborted as the violent rage left her in a rush as rapidly as it had come. Heartache welled up in its place, for both him and for herself. In the end, her own hurt won, too easily convinced that she was no longer wanted. Gathering fatigue and the physical pain in her chest to ward off tears, Rachel left, expression eerily blank. If Haller wanted to drown in himself, she was not going to stick around to watch it happen.

How funny it was that the people you loved and relied on the most could cut you to the quick the easiest and in the most painful ways.