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Chapter Text

Bouquet of Roses

(Companion and Sequel to Fate and Destiny)

By: Lalaith Quetzalli

'A Rose is a rose is a rose'... much poetry has been written about roses, about their scent and symbolism, but it's much more complex than those words might suggest. Because no two roses are identical, each one of them has their own meaning, their own significance, their own history, their own life.

White Rose

Pure and Beautiful Soul, a child is the picture of Innocence...

Born a 20th of March, I am a child of the Spring Equinox. 'Little elven child' my parents have called me. I have a complicated life, maybe other people have said it before, but none with as much reason as I, surely. After all, I doubt there are others out there with a reincarnated elven princess for a mother, an adopted Asgardian prince (born youngest prince of the frost-giants) for a father, the Queen of the Dead for a sister, and the youngest son of a king (of Jotunheim) for an adopted brother... and that's without taking in considering all my extended family. That's me. That's my life, or the bare bones of it at least.

I've always known I was different from any other child, 'special' my mother says, though that term is used to describe such a variety of individuals that I'm not quite sure if it's a comfort or no. In any case, I've never expected anything in my life to be normal, though it still took a while for me to realize how far removed from normal I actually am.

I was born on the vernal equinox, on the day of an ancient festival known as Ostara, which is regarded as a time of rebirth, of growth, it also celebrates fertility. Upon my birth I was given the name of Rose Alfdis; Rose because it's my mother's favorite flower, and partly because of an old story she knew 'The Nightingale and the Rose'... she's the Nightingale of course, it's the name my father gave her shortly after they first met, and while they don't use it often, it had a special significance for them. I'm also Alfdis, that one has several reasons and meanings; most people say it means simply 'spirit'; but it goes beyond that, because 'Alf' means 'elf', while '-dis' is 'a female guardian spirit', which would make me an she-elf guardian spirit... or simply an elven guardian-spirit... I personally like that last one the most. The greatest importance, though, is that the name is Norse, and as such a connection to my father's family and traditions.

When it comes to last-names it gets even more complicated. My parents are publicly known as Arianna and Luke Stark-Serrure... she's regarded as the little half-sister of millionaire, inventor, founder and CEO of Stark Industries: Howard Stark. My father is something of an inventor himself, he used to work for uncle Howard, helped him create a whole line or war-planes... They both participated in WWII, aiding the allies, Papa as an agent for the Strategic Scientific Reserve and Mama as a nurse and sometimes interpreter. They befriended great heroes like Agent Peggy Carter, Captain America and his Howling Commandos. My big-brother, Hakon, was there too, though he was a little kid then (I wasn't yet born).

The family was living in New York when I was born, it'd been almost four years since the end of the war. We moved to England soon afterwards, though; where Papa began working as a teacher while Mama and Hakon attended college, all in Oxford.

Now, as if that part weren't complicated enough, it doesn't actually end there. Because truth is, mama's not a Stark, not really. Uncle Howard claimed her as his sister to help protect her, to protect all of us, so no one would find out the truth (of which even he doesn't know all), the fact that my family... they're not humans, or from the 40's...

Mama was born Silbhé Arianna Kinross-Salani... on the 2nd of February of 1992... yeah, that is kind of insane. And it's just the beginning. She met papa when she was eleven, when he appeared out of thin air in the middle of the garden in Salani mansion; he took the alias of Luka Hvedrungr but couldn't hide the truth from her for long, the fact that he's Loki, son of Odin and Frigg, second prince of Asgard (born as the third and youngest son of Laufey, the insane former king of the Jotuns... though, with the years being what they are, that statement isn't quite true). They fell in love through the years and eventually married when she was nineteen. When she was twenty-one mama died for all intents and purposes, her bond to papa allowed her to give up her mortal life, yet go on living, as papa's equal. It was shortly after that that they adopted Hakon, when his father King Helblindi of Jotunheim (Laufey's second son) claimed to be unable to give a then three-year-old Hakon the life he deserved (because Hakon is a runt among giants, and that would make life very hard for him there).

Years after that, another discovery was made, the fact that mama was the reincarnation of Lalaith Mirloth, princess (and almost Queen) of Alfheim, better known as Tinúviel. She'd surrendered her throne out of love for papa, married him and given him a daughter: Helena (whom the universe knew better as Hel, Queen of the Dead). She'd died along with her unborn second child: Meril (a name which meant 'rose' in elvish). For reasons I couldn't fully comprehend, everyone had forgotten her after her death, even papa. It was until after he and mama found each other, fell in love all over again and got married that the truth was revealed.

In 2016 they had been doing a few missions here and there for SHIELD (the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division), when something happened. No one knew quite what; even after all the years that had passed since, the memory of that day remained elusive. Somehow they'd been transported from wherever they had all been that day in 2016, to the middle of nowhere, in Norway, in 1941!

Without papers, an actual legal identity, and in a couple of cases the very real risk of calling the wrong kind of attention (what if Asgard had found them?), it was probably fortunate when Uncle Howard found them and chose to do his best to help them, even without knowing everything about them all (a group that included not just papa and mama, but also little Hakon, and Aunt Sif, the goddess of war).

I was born in 1949, after the end of the war, at a time when WWII had ended; there was supposed to be peace in the world. Yet the truth wasn't quite so simple. The Cold War was beginning, the conflict between North and South Korea kept escalating and the creation of the first Soviet atomic bomb marked the start of a rather insane arms race that would continue for years to come (some might argue it'd never end).

We moved to England in the early 1950s. There papa worked as a teacher, while Hakon and mama went to college; mama also took time to home-school me (she'd experience on both sides of that, having home-schooled Hakon up to high-school level, and having been home-schooled herself by her aunt). Everything changed, rather abruptly in the summer of '54.

I always knew I wasn't normal, with a mother who carried the title of Goddess of Devotion and Compassion, and held powers like empathy, shadow-walking, channeling her match's magic and, most important of all, healing without herbs or tools, with nothing but her will; and a father who had been called God of Mischief and Lies, sometimes even Magic, who was known across the realms as Silvertongue, Sky-Treader, Trickster, Maverick, who had ice lurking beneath his alabaster skin, who knew all the Secret Paths, could shadow-walk and was probably the most powerful sorcerer in all the universe (having surpassed even the Lady Frigg, his adopted mother, my grandmother...). Yes, I always knew I wasn't exactly normal, though it was until I turned five that I learnt what that meant, exactly.

I opened my eyes to find myself in the middle of a small room. There was a small fireplace in a corner, which doubled as a stove, there was an old table with four mismatched chairs, an old, ratty couch, and on the opposite side a small area was curtained off, I knew instinctively it was what passed for a bedroom there, with an old, half-hard mattress and threadbare sheets. I ignored all that, instead walking to the window, to the figure standing there.

She was young, possibly even younger than me; though I wasn't sure if her small-size was due to youth or malnutrition. Still, her head was framed by beautiful bright-red ringlets, while her eyes were chocolate brown and full of life. She was wearing an obviously old pale-yellow dress (which actually looked like it might have been a man's shirt at one point, before being modified by someone with obvious talent with needle and thread. She was standing at the window, looking outside, at the crowd beginning to gather outside.

"Dai... Dadro..." She called to two of the people outside, in a language and accent I didn't really know, though I knew instinctively she was calling to her family.

Everything changed abruptly, like the flipping of a switch. The strong conversation outside turned into an argument, and soon there was shouting in a mix of two, probably three different languages. There was some kind of crash, a scream and then... fire.

Fire... the building was on fire... the room was on fire!

I wasn't sure if the place was catching on fire so fast because the whole building was made of wood, so old and dry... or if my perceptions were somehow altered. My thoughts were broken when the little girl's cries for her parents were suddenly interrupted by an entirely different kind of cry: one of pain.

The fire had reached the room, and it'd caught her, on her left shoulder and part of her face and neck. She was screaming, and crying, but it was as if no one could hear her...

I had to help her, I knew I had to help her but I didn't know how!

An explosion, it came out of nowhere, all windows seemed to shatter at the same time and then... and then the fire seemed to consume the room, and the girl... my horror was so great I couldn't help myself, I screamed...

When I woke up I was still screaming. In seconds my family was standing around my bed, illuminated by the light of several candles placed around the room (I wasn't sure why exactly, back then, but I'd always liked candles, of all kinds).

"Rosie?" Mama called, sitting on the bed beside me and reaching for me with both arms.

I didn't have to think about it. In my whole (if short) life I'd never known anyone who made me feel safer than my mama. I knew how much she loved me, all she was willing to do and to give for me, I knew her love for me was absolute and unconditional, same as with my papa and my brother. So I threw myself into her arms, crying almost hysterically as I couldn't help but remember my dream, the fire, and that little girl... just thinking about it hurt.

"Sweetheart?" She murmured very softly. "Are you alright?"

For the longest time I couldn't answer her, all I could do was cry. Though eventually I managed to half-control myself. If I expected to be able to do something about my dream, then my family needed to know, how else would they help me?

"We have to save her!" I told them. "We have to save her, or she's gonna die!"

"Who's gonna die?" It was so obvious my brother was still asleep, and yet my words were enough to put him on alert instantly. "Little sis..."

"Willow!" I had no idea where the name had even come from, I just knew it was right.

"Who's Willow?" Hakon asked next, approaching the opposite side of the bed slowly.

"She's my little sister... but she doesn't know it yet." Yet again something I knew without having proof of it, it was instinctive.

Mama looked at me for several seconds, confused. I had no idea what she was thinking, all I myself could think about was the need to save that girl... Willow... my sister...

"Where can we find Willow?" Mama asked me. "And how can we save her?"

"Her name's not Willow yet..." I admitted then, remembering my dream, told her one thing I could remember. "Her papa calls her chikni..."

Everyone turned to mama, knowing she was the one who knew the most languages (I decided right then that I too would make an effort to learn many, many languages... I wanted to be just like my mama...)

"That's Romany." She told us. "I remember some of the prisoners we rescued during the war speaking the language, it's what the gypsies speak. I think that word means: daughter..."

It made sense, it meant that the man the red-haired girl had been looking at was her papa... but why hadn't he saved her then? I didn't understand.

"So, we're supposed to rescue a girl?" My brother spoke up. "A girl who has a father too. From who or what exactly?"

"Fire!" I couldn't help myself, the memory made me cry out. Then I turned to mama, knowing she would understand me, she had to... "We need to save her Mama! We need to save Willow! She'll burn! We need to go! We need to go now!" I was losing it, why were none of them moving?! "Mama! Papa! Hakon! We need to save Willow!"

I didn't wait for any of them to say a word, instead running to my closet. I needed to get dressed. Thankfully they began moving too. I knew they didn't understand, they hadn't seen what I had; but they loved me, they would believe me... we would save Willow! And then she'd become my little sister...

Soon enough we were all in the car. Mama had even packed some food for the drive, and jackets in case we ended somewhere cold (I didn't think so, but couldn't be sure). Papa began driving, following my instructions whenever I told him to take a turn, change lanes, or anything else. I had no idea how I knew the way, or even where we were going exactly, I just knew we needed to hurry or Willow was going to die... I didn't want my sister to die! I had only seen her once, in a dream, and already I loved her dearly.

We drove for more than half a day, hardly ever stopping and never sleeping (I couldn't sleep, who would have told papa where to go if I fell asleep?).

"Daro (Stop)!" The word came from my mama so suddenly we were all shocked.

Papa stopped the car instantly though.

"What is it?" Papa asked her intently.

"I don't think it's a good idea to continue by car." She explained quietly. "There is a great power touching the earth beneath us... it might be safer for us all to continue on foot for now."

I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't care either. If mama said we couldn't continue by car, then we'd have to walk, to run. And that's exactly what I did.

"Phey!" Sister... I called to her as a I ran, even knowing she couldn't actually hear me yet, using a word I'd never studied, yet instinctively knew the meaning of, just like I knew what she was supposed to be to me.

No one tried to stop me, or tell me to slow down. If we were a normal family I would have probably gotten yelled at, maybe even grounded; but my family wasn't normal, and they believed in me. So we all ran.

We'd almost reached the end of the forested area when I heard my brother speak:

"Hey," He called. "Does anyone else smell smoke?"

"There's something burning up ahead." Papa agreed in a dark tone.

I just knew what was; which was why, even though I was very tired, I pushed myself to keep on running, crossing the tree-line and into the small town, and soon I could see the building. I knew it was the one from my dream, even though I'd never actually seen it from the outside; I could also see it was already on fire. That wasn't good. I ran faster.

I knew, in a corner of my head, that I was leaving my family behind, that they wouldn't like that; but getting to Willow was too important, I couldn't stop, couldn't slow down.

Even when I reached the back door of the hostel, I still didn't stop, just slammed the door open. Flames came out, as if jumping in my direction, but I ignored them, jumping straight in, only vaguely aware of the fire touching my skin, caressing but never burning. I think I might have heard my brother call to me, followed by a curse when he was unable to follow; I didn't look back, just looked for the stairs and began climbing as fast as I could.

The top floor was probably the most decrepit of the whole building (which was already pretty bad), I could see the fire expanding, eating up walls, the floors, the ceilings... I knew it wouldn't be long before the whole thing was lost.

I burst into the room in time to hear her call to her parents one more time, before crying out in pain instead.

"Willow!" I called, even as I took hold of her.

The moment we touched the flames that had begun to hurt her seemed to wash away. It didn't happen fast enough to prevent all injuries, but they were a lot less than what I'd seen in my dream. That gave me hope, I'd gotten there in time, I was changing things! All we needed then was to get out before the building collapsed with us inside.

"Willow..." I began.

"Anya." She corrected me, before saying something I couldn't quite understand, probably Romany, and finishing by repeating that name: "Anya..."

"I have to get you out of here." I told her, waving my hand in the direction of the door, as I knew she probably wouldn't be able to understand a word I said.

I also wasn't letting go of her. It seemed like us touching was allowing her to avoid getting burned. The fire swirled around her, without hurting, just like it was doing with me.

The wooden floorboards beneath our feet creaked, a second before an explosion was heard, windows throughout the whole floor seemed to explode. I didn't wait to see if the next part happened as I'd dreamed as well, I wouldn't let it. So instead I pulled on Will... Anya, and began running back the way we came.

It wasn't easy, the hostel was practically crumbling down all around us, and beneath our feet, but still we didn't stop, and somehow we managed to get to the door and outside without anything falling on us (or the floor falling from beneath us).

Mama was upon us before we could give more than a few steps.

"Oh Rosie!" She cried out.

"Mama!" I called in return. "Help Willow please! She's hurt!"

I knew she said her name was Anya, but my heart kept calling her Willow, I couldn't help her. Mama didn't say anything, not even to recriminate me for having gone into the burning building alone; instead she turned to Willow, to her burns (on the left side of her face, near her ear and hairline, and a more serious one down her neck and reaching to her shoulder, where the sleeve of her dress had almost burnt through). I could see in my mother's eyes the pain, the grief, she knew Willow was hurting, and probably also how bad it could have been. Mama had always been so full of love, I could almost feel it every time she held me, or even just spoke to me; I was sure she must be feeling protective over Willow too.

I've always known Mama was very special, more than any other mama in the world (and not just because she's mine), she'd told me the story, of the two lives she'd spent with Papa, how their love for each other was enough to bring her back, how it allowed them to have me when so many people believed it to be impossible (because she'd been terribly sick for many years). And not only that, she had a gift very few people in the whole wide universe possessed: she could heal. And that was exactly what she did for Willow.

When Willow flinched I did my best to console her in broken Romany. I'd spent the hours driving from the cottage where we'd been to that town reading through a dictionary, trying to memorize important words and phrases. I knew I wasn't any good at it, but I just wanted to be able to reassure Willow that everything would be alright.

In the end Mama couldn't undo everything, but a part of me had already been expecting that. Scars were left on the left side of Willow's face, on part of her neck and her shoulder; but that was alright, there was nothing wrong with scars, they were symbols of all a person had survived, of how brave they were... that's what Papa told me when I asked him about his.

It looked like Mama was about to say something else when she froze, we all did. There was something off, I knew it, but I had no idea what. Mama turned to look at Papa and I could tell she was saying something to him, in that special way where only he could hear her: and then Papa put a hand on my arm, and we were gone.

We reappeared beside the car, right on time to watch flocks of birds fly away in a hurry, as if fleeing from something. The very earth seemed to shift beneath our feet.

"That was no earthquake." Hakon commented, letting go of Papa.

"No, it wasn't." Mama agreed.

It was all she said, but I knew that wasn't all she was thinking. In any case, I just knew that whatever had happened, it was bad... really bad.

Papa drove us to the nearest city, where we immediately got a room and went to rest. He and big-bro when back to the little town. When they returned they went to speak to Mama privately, and while I don't know what they said, it wasn't good.

The following morning they told Willow... Anya, that they couldn't find her parents, and asked her if she wanted to stay with us.

"Can I?" She asked, in a very soft voice, and still in Romany (Mama was translating, and I was able to make out a few things). "Can I stay with you?"

"Yes." I told her immediately, then added for good measure. "Phei (sister)..."

Her eyes actually seemed to light up when I said that. I liked it, she'd been so sad ever since we'd gotten out of the burning building, and I didn't like it when my sister was sad.

"We need to get her papers." Papa said. "There's no way we'll make it across the borders to Istanbul... much less back to England, without those."

"What name would you like to have, little one?" Mama asked her softly.

"My name is Anya." She stated seriously, like one who's been learning to say her name. Then she looked at me and added. "Can I be Willow too?"

"Of course you can, darling." Mama assured her.

And so she became Willow Anya Stark Serrure... my little sister.

On the way back to the cottage I told my little sis all about our Mama. How amazing she was, and how she had the prettiest voice. That night, just before going to sleep, Mama sang to us, the song she'd told me her own Mama would sing when it was time for her to sleep. It was perfect.

xXx

It was easy for us, to become sisters, as if we'd been such all along. We'd a difference of three months in ages (Willow had been born the day before Midsummer, on June 20th...). Still, since Mama and Papa ha gotten her papers as their daughter, but nothing about an adoption, and they simply didn't want to have to explain how exactly Willow had become part of our family (how could we have explained what had happened in that little town? or how I'd known what would happen to Willow?). In the end it was simply easier to pass as twins; the people we truly cared about, our family and closest friends (like Charles and Raven) knew the truth, and that was enough for all of us.

We had our moments, of course. Like when Hakon left to join the army. Will's nightmares had gotten better, had lessened; but after he left they came back with a vengeance. She also dreamt about losing us, her new family, like she'd lost her first. At first I tried to be there for her, help her; but that wasn't enough. Then Mama helped us:

"Just like we all love you, my sprite." Mama kissed Willow's brow, then caressed my arm (as I was on Will's other side). "Just like we all love you and your sister both. You must know that we'll always do our best to stay with you." It wasn't what we might have wished to hear, but Mama would never lie to us, or make promises she couldn't keep, and we knew that. "However, if the day does come when we're forced to separate... that doesn't mean we don't love you, or that we don't want to be with you. The people we love... they never really leave us. They're always with us..." She touched sis's temple. "here," then her heart. "and here. Whatever the future might bring. Whether we're together physically or not, as long as we keep each other in our minds and hearts, we will always be together. Forever..."

Five years after Willow and I first became sisters we left England and moved back to New York, where I was born. It was supposed to be a vacation at first, but Papa was having fun with Uncle Howard, and Aunt Sia had been transferred already, and then Mama found a new job. Hakon was still away though. The move didn't make much difference for our studies, Mama was still the one to home-school us. I did miss Raven, though.

In late August of 1962 we saw Charles again. We were spending the summer break in Uncle Howard's penthouse in Chicago; he was traveling with a man called Erik Lehnsherr. I think he wanted Mama and Papa's help with something, but they told him no, Mama didn't want us to be in danger, and apparently we would have been, if they'd accepted.

In October the dreams began. They were violent, like nothing else I'd ever seen before, sleeping or awake. I saw fights between two teams of gifted individuals: a furry-blue man with super-strength and great agility, a red-skinned teleporter with a sword, a blonde young man that shot lasers from his chest, a black-haired Spaniard capable of conjuring cyclones, a redhead whose voice could shatter glass, a blonde woman with diamond-skin and telepathy, a dark-skinned young man who could adapt, a young latina with insect-like wings, a man with the power to control pure energy, a blue-skinned red-haired shapeshifted: Raven... a tall, steel-eyed man who can control magnetism: Erik Lehnsherr... and a blue-eyed telepath: Charles...

The dreams were bad from the very beginning, and they kept getting progressively worse: one of the young gifted being killed, one betraying the rest of the team, an insane man... a monster seeking to destroy the world...

The one I woke from on the 28th of October was especially bad. I saw the two teams of gifted facing each other, at moments on the beach, and at others on ships or even flying low over the blue sea... but the part that hit me the hardest was when I saw Charles crouching by the side of a half-destroyed jet, one hand pressed to his temple, the other on the hull and he was calling both with his mind and mouth. At first it was going alright, until everything changed unexpectedly, and then he was calling, to Erik, he was yelling, and pleading and...

I woke up screaming. I hadn't seen how things had ended with Charles, and didn't know if that was because I woke up too soon, or it simply had been decided yet. Still, I knew things were bad, and could still get worse. Charles needed our help, we needed to get there.

"Mama!" Hours later I kept insisting, yet nothing seemed to be enough. "Mama we need to go! Charles needs us! We need to go!"

"We cannot go, sweetheart." She tried to tell me. "It's too dangerous."

"There's going to be a fight and they need us!" I practically wailed.

I knew I was pretty much throwing a tantrum, like I never had before, but why couldn't they understand that I was right?!

"You're too young to get involved in fights, Rosie." Mama said in her tone of this-is-for-your-own-good-darling. "Charles and his friends are strong, they can handle this."

Usually that tone of voice would fill me with confidence, in that moment it just made me despair. I knew Mama and Papa couldn't see the things I did, couldn't know; but they'd trusted me about Willow, why couldn't they trust me again?

In the end we did not go. I woke up on the 29th of October sobbing hysterically, after having just witnessed the aftermath of that fight. Having watched Charles scream himself hoarse in the back of a half-destroyed jet, I could practically feel his pain, which wasn't actually physical, no, it was much worse. Then the stand-off in that beach, the way they kept arguing around each other, seemingly without actually listening to each other... I wished with all my heart that I could be there, could be there to yell at them, to make them see all they were missing, everything they were doing wrong. But I wasn't there, and no matter how hard I might wish, nothing I did or said would change what had already happened.

I'd never before seen the past in my dreams, only the future. I wasn't sure if it was better or worse than seeing the future. On the one hand, I knew there was nothing I could do to change it; on the other, I'd had that chance and let it pass... well no, I didn't let it pass, I tried to intervene, but wasn't allowed.

A part of me became really angry at my mama after that. So much that even though I hurt deeply over the next few days I wouldn't let her comfort me, I didn't let anyone except Willow anywhere close to me. All I could think was that it was her fault we hadn't been there to help Charles, to help everyone.

It'd take me years to understand why Mama made the choices she did and that they weren't wrong, or right. They were just her choices, as simple as that... and in the same manner, one day I'd get to make mine.

xXx

An unknown city, an unknown room... though it clearly belonged to a hospital. There was a man laying on the bed, and I actually had to do a double take before realizing who exactly it was: Charles Xavier. Charles Xavier was in a hospital bed!

Immediately I began spinning around, trying to understand what was going on. Where was Raven? Where was Erik Lehnsherr? I knew they'd argued on that beach, but an argument wasn't the end of the world, was it?

I could see Charles on that bed; and unlike me, he wasn't looking around, eyes kept straight on the ceiling. And then someone else entered:

"Charles, are you awake?" She asked softly, hesitantly.

"So you know then." He said, apropos of nothing... or perhaps of something he'd read in her mind, even though he didn't so much as turn to look at her.

"They told you!" She exclaimed in obvious shock.

"No, but then again, they don't need to." He said simply. "Their minds are loud enough."

"Oh Charles..." She began, sounding like she was about to cry.

"It's alright Moira, I've been expecting this since I was on that beach." He told her with a calm that didn't reach his eyes. "The moment I realized I couldn't feel my legs I knew it was unlikely I would ever walk again."

I didn't get the chance to scream. I hadn't known that, how could I not have known that?! When abruptly everything around me changed:

A convoy was driving down a street, lots of people around, which meant there must have been someone important in that convoy... it took me a bit to realize just how important, and who it was exactly: President John F. Kennedy...

The fateful shot came then. A commotion made me turn to a side, to where none other than Erik Lehnsherr was, on the ground, underneath several guys, probably Secret Service. For a moment I couldn't help but wonder if Aunt Sia might have been wrong, when she'd told us that Magneto was not the one to kill the president. All the people around certainly believed him to be guilty. And then I saw her, Aunt Sia, standing no more than a few feet from me, only she wasn't looking at Lehnsherr, or at the president... no, her eyes were fixed in a completely different direction. I followed her line of sight, and then I saw it, a figure moving away. I'd no idea who it was; in fact, if it weren't for Sia the figure would have meant nothing at all to me. Though it certainly meant something to her, as she immediately moved, running in the same direction. I was trying to decide who exactly I was supposed to focus on, when the world vanished all around me again.

It was a hallway in some mansion I'd never seen before, and Charles was there, on a wheelchair, pushing it and himself as fast as he could. He went down several halls and a half-concealed elevator before reaching a reinforced door and waiting outside, silently watching the red-light beside the door, waiting until it changed to green.

Right after it did the doors opened, and out stepped a blonde man, his hair looking almost wind-blown, and sweating as if he'd just run a marathon.

"Alex..." Charles began.

"You already know, right?" He asked.

"You know I try not to invade anyone's privacy..." Charles began, apologetically.

"But sometimes we scream our thoughts, I know, that's alright." Alex began babbling. "It's perfect actually, since I don't think I can say the words out-loud..." He dropped to his knees before Charles's wheelchair. "Why did this have to happen? Why does there have to be war?"

"I honestly don't know Alex." Charles told him softly, running a hand through the younger man's hair (he looked almost like a boy then, more than man). "I've asked myself the same question many times. I wish I could stop all wars... but even I don't have that kind of power."

It looked like he might want to say something else, but he didn't. Yet somehow I knew. Charles did not have the power to keep wars from happening; but he probably had enough power to keep Alex from being sent. If the blonde had asked him, Charles would have used his power, would have bent other people's wills, no matter how much against his own morals it might be. Because he loved the boy, like a little brother, like a son... and Charles would do anything for those he loved. That was probably why the blonde... Alex, did not ask. He knew, he understood, and he loved Charles enough not to ask him that.

In the second between my surroundings vanishing and something new appearing I couldn't help but pray that my brother might be able to help Alex, to help all like him who would find themselves in the war... somehow.

In the blink of an eye I suddenly found myself standing in what looked like a courthouse, except there was no jury, no public; less than half a dozen people in all, including the two lawyers, the judge and two heavily armed men standing behind the tightly restrained man (who was held by plastic restraints). It was Erik Lehnsherr again, eerily quiet as everyone around him argued the 'finer' points of his crimes. Most noticeable was the fact that no one, not even Lehnsherr's supposed lawyer was even trying to defend him.

Another blink and I was standing in the strangest room I'd ever seen in my life. It was vaguely cylindrical, and it actually took me several seconds to realize that in specific spot the wall could move to form an opening, a sort of door. It obviously couldn't be opened from the inside. I was in some sort of gray prison cell... an empty cell, seeing how I couldn't see anyone inside it... and then I looked down.

I had to blink my eyes several times and then dropped to my knees as I fully processed what I was looking at. Not all the ground beneath my feet was cement, some parts were glass, and beneath it was another, even smaller cell. With nothing but a cot in one corner, and on the cot a man in a grayish-white uniform lay. He was laying down, his eyes were closed tightly but his mouth was wide open... he was screaming, a single word:

"CHARLES!"

Elsewhere Charles was screaming as well, twisting the upper half of his body as he tried to press a hand to his lower back, while holding the side of his head with the other, but to no avail. He was obviously in pain, though it was hard to tell which one was worse: the physical, or the one that was caused by his mutation. I had no idea if he could actually hear Erik, feel him inside, or if he was hearing something else... I'd been too young when we were last truly in contact, and thus didn't understand how his telepathy really worked, aside from the fact that it pushed him to connecting with people, and thus he couldn't help but hearing their surface thoughts all the time.

A young man rushed into the room, slim and tall, he was calling to Charles in an evidently worried tone.

"Professor!" He called, kneeling beside the bed. "Professor you gotta let me help you!"

"You... you told me it would affect my DNA... that it... it might have side-effects you c-couldn't predict." Charles panted from the bed.

"Well... yes!" The younger man admitted grudgingly. "But you need it professor! You're only getting worse. Ever since that session with Cerebro..."

"Erik... he needs me." Charles moaned.

"We tried Professor." The other one was trying to be kind, but there was a hint of coldness in his words. "You did everything you could. We were too late. There's nothing else we can do. There's no way for us to get to where he is now..."

"I cannot abandon him..." Charles insisted. "I..."

"You cannot reach him where he is!" The 'student' finally snapped. "You've told me yourself. No matter how hard you try. Even with Cerebro... and you fried half of the circuits the last time you tried to use it to reach him!" His voice softened. "There's nothing we can do for Erik, Professor. You need to accept that... and you need to let me help you."

"One more day." Charles eventually gave up. "Give me one more day, one more chance... then we'll give your new serum a try."

A blink, and an untold amount of time later, there was Charles again, only he was no longer on a bed, or even on a wheelchair, he was on his feet, standing on the entrance of a study (his study, I realized belatedly); eyes fixed straight on an oak and polished-steel chess-set. The pieces were all over board, a game had been left unfinished.

From one moment to the next Charles stepped into the study, with slow, heavy footsteps, ignoring the dust covering almost everything, and with a sound that seemed half like a roar of fury, and half like a pained whine, he slapped the edge of the chessboard, sending it, and all the pieces, flying every which way. Then he dropped to his knees and began pounding the floor with his fist. It looked like he was screaming, and maybe he was, only he wasn't doing so out-loud. He was screaming his pain for the world to hear, yet no one was listening... or almost no one.

The same young man as before practically stumbled into the room, eyes wide in panic.

"Professor!" He cried out. "Are you alright?!"

"I... I need more serum Hank... I..." Charles groaned.

"You need... but the dose I gave is already quite high and..." The young man, Hank, began, in an obviously hesitant tone. "You told me it was affecting your telepathy..."

"Everything hurts Hank..." Charles practically moaned. "The voices... they're always there... and I can't get them to shut up!" He sat against a wall, still on the floor. "I don't know if I can do this Hank. I mean... really, what's the point? There's no more school, no more X-Men... no more anything... only the constant crying and wailing of people who want to be listened yet refuse to listen to everyone else. I'm forced to hear them all, and yet there's nothing I can do..." He let out a breath. "I had so many dreams... but I guess they're pointless now. And maybe when I'm gone you'll finally get to be free yourself, free of this... this poor excuse of a man I've become..."

Whatever else he might have been planning on saying, he never got to, suddenly Hank was crouched right in front of him, and he'd just slapped him.

"Don't you dare say that!" He yelled at Charles. "Don't you dare! Pro... Charles! You think I'm here out of pity? Or perhaps because I have nowhere else to go? You're wrong! You're my friend Charles. I've always been here for you, and I always will be, regardless of how insufferable you might become, because that's what friends do, they are there for each other. And maybe if you didn't insist on being so obsessed with Magneto you'd notice!"

For several seconds it looked like Hank had no idea what to say, or if he even should say anything at all.

"Oh Hank..." Was all he managed to say in the end, and then he pressed his forehead into his student... no, his friend's shoulder, and broke down crying.

I was already crying by that point, couldn't imagine anything that could possibly be any worse than what I'd just witnessed. In all fairness, just what I'd seen up until that point would probably have been enough to push me into doing something, anything to try and make things better, but, as it turned out, it didn't stop there... not by a long shot:

There were more stand-offs, more than a dozen of them, and fights, sometimes with the two of them leading their respective groups, others they were away (sometimes Magneto was in prison, or Charles was indisposed); in the end the Professor's X-Men and Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants were almost always on opposite sides of the battlefield. There were a few exceptions, of course; when some other force would appear, one strong enough to put mutant-kind as a whole in danger, making it necessary for both groups to ally, but it was never more than a temporary truce at best. Then there were the more personal meetings, in public places, cryptic exchanges of words, or in some random park, to play chess together, or in some hotel room in the middle of nowhere... and I so did not need to know that!

So many meetings, violent and peaceful, and sometimes even heartfelt, they marked the passage of time, years and years. And ever so slowly Magneto's hair turned silver, while the Professor lost all of his, and the skin of both wrinkled, but they never stopped fighting, never stopped trying, never gave up... except on one thing: it was as if Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr no longer existed, they were only the Professor and Magneto, all that was left of them was the leaders of their two groups, the two extremes in mutant society... (and yet again I wished I could be there, physically, so I could scream at them and tell them all they were doing wrong!).

Eventually it became insane, it was as if I were drowning in images, scenes of the future, so many I couldn't fully process all of them, though a few stood out:

A middle-aged Professor X, met Magneto as he got out of prison after many years (I couldn't be sure if he'd been freed or had escaped). Their conversation soon turned into a screaming match:

"You abandoned me!" For a moment it's not Professor X speaking, but Charles, full of the pain and heart-ache of so many years. "You took her away and you abandoned me!"

"And what of you Professor..." The reply comes not from Erik, but from Magneto, a name that is both weapon and armor, and which he wields with a lot more ease that the metal he was deprived of from so long. "What of all the people you left to their luck? All that were experimented on, butchered! We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding?!" He shook his head, loathing clear on his expression. "You abandoned us all!"

He had no idea, he couldn't know, how hard Charles tried, how much he suffered, and how awful it was when he finally gave up. He didn't know, and he never would...

Even more years later, the two men met on the foyer of an auditorium, probably in New York. Magneto, in casual clothes, was leaving when the Professor approached him. It didn't exactly go well, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been:

"Are you sneaking around in here Charles?" Erik Lehnsherr asked, tapping the side of his head. "Whatever are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for hope." Charles Xavier admitted.

"I will bring you hope, old friend, and I ask only one thing in return: don't get in my way..." Erik replied, already leaving. "We are the future, Charles, not them! They no longer matter!"

A little bit older, or perhaps even the same age physically, though there was something in their eyes that made them look actually old, in a way they hadn't really before... They were in a prison, made entirely of plastic, playing chess:

"Why do you come here Charles?" Erik asked him eventually.

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?" Charles inquired, calmly.

"Ah yes, your continuing search for hope." He made a gesture for a guard to take the other man away, even as he got closer to say something else: "You know this plastic prison of theirs won't hold me forever. The war's still coming Charles, and I intend to fight it, by any means necessary."

"And I will always be there, old friend."

Yes, he was always there, they were always there, both of them, always meeting but never truly in sync, not again, not like they'd been in 1962, before Cuba... not for the first time I wished we could have done something to change that disaster.

Things only got worse after that, as the images became more fractured, even fuzzy. I caught sight of a confrontation between the Professor, Magneto and a red-haired mutant of such power I felt goosebumps, and I could've almost sworn I saw the Professor disintegrate, followed by a flash of a funeral; but then he was there again. He and Magneto were standing side by side, no longer fighting... though that might have been because the world was going to hell all around them:

I caught one last thing, at the very end, in Magneto's voice... only I instinctively knew he wasn't just Magneto anymore, a part of him had gone back to being Erik, if perhaps too late:

"All those years wasted fighting each other Charles... to have a precious few of them back..."

Then it was all over, in darkness and a twirling ribbon of multi-colored light...

I woke up screaming, not for the first time. Every candle in my room was alight, the flames high and dancing, as if responding to my heightened state. Willow tried to comfort me, while my parents stood at the door, seemingly not quite knowing what to do.

"A friend needs us." I told my sister eventually. "We need to go."

My mind was made up, and no one would be changing it. I was taking destiny in my own hands...

Chapter Text

Purple Rose

Majestic Enchantment, the wonderful Splendor of the spirit...

It wasn't easy, not exactly, I knew Mama didn't like it, the fact that Willow and I would be putting ourselves in danger in an attempt to change something I'd seen (and to think I didn't tell her just how bad it was going to get)... and yet, she didn't try that hard to stop us. In the end she respected us, and the fact that we were grown and quite capable of making our own choices.

"Just promise me you'll take care of yourselves, and each other." She told us the last day.

"We promise Mama." Willow and I answered in unison.

"And remember," Papa added for good measure. "Whatever might happen elsewhere, this will always be your home, and we will always be your family. To both of you."

I knew he was especially worried about Willow, about making sure that she'd never feel any less his daughter. He'd explained it to us once, about his own history, his adopted family, and how badly things had gotten for a while, because of misunderstandings and lack of communication. That was something we tried not to let happen in our own family. Of course we had our moments, like when I pretty much refused to talk to my parents after they chose not to help Charles against Shaw... but eventually I'd accepted that they'd made their choice, that they were just trying to protect us; a part of me still believed that we could have made a difference, but there was nothing I could do to change that, I could only exert my will over my own decisions.

xXx

It took several days for us to sort out everything. Thankfully neither Willow nor I'd gone looking for a job just yet. The plan had been to enjoy a last summer break; and it's not like we actually 'needed' the job, being Starks and all (Uncle Howard had offered to finance a trip through Europe for the both of us as a graduation present, and we'd been thinking about it... until my vision changed everything abruptly).

By the end of the week (it was mid-July) we were packed and ready to go (Papa even bought us a new car), and after assuring us they'd always be there to help if we needed them, and insisting on us keeping in touch, we were off.

Getting to Xavier mansion was a bit like visiting a friend whose address you've got yet have never visited before (and we couldn't ask for directions, because doing so would mean calling unnecessary attention to the place and the people living there), and a bit like the time when we'd found Willow, because I knew when we needed to take a turn, to change lanes, even if I didn't actually know where we were going.

In the end it wasn't really that far away. Despite driving slowly and actually turning back a few times (I didn't think we were being followed, but it was better to be safe than sorry), we made it to the gates of the Xavier State in a little less than two hours. The gate was closed, and there was a sign forbidding entry, which we of course ignored and went in.

It actually took a while for someone to answer us on the front door. We could have gotten inside, while I wasn't a spell-weaver like Papa (and, to a slightly lesser degree, Mama), Hakon and Aunt Sia had taught both Willow and I all sorts of 'useful' tricks, including how to pick locks. Yet, I didn't want to break into the mansion, we were there to help, not to cause trouble, after all.

"Good morning?" I greeted the young man who answered the door.

I instantly knew who he was, he'd been in at least a few of the pieces of my vision: Dr. Henry McCoy, better known as Hank... or Beast.

"Good morning..." The young man replied, seemingly in automatic. "Excuse me, how did you get in? I thought the gate was closed."

"We're here to see Charles, Charles Xavier." I told him, choosing to ignore his question, then remembered something else. "Oh, right. I am Rose, and this is my sister Willow."

"What do you want with Charles?" Hank asked in a rather defensive tone.

"Like I said, we're here to visit." I repeated. "We're old family friends."

"Charles doesn't have family friends." Hank insisted. "The last deserted him years ago."

I wondered what that meant, exactly; I had a feeling it wasn't good.

"Can you tell him Ari's daughters are here?" I asked. "Please. Willow and I'd really like to see him, at least to say hello."

"I cannot promise you anything." He said eventually. "He hasn't been exactly up for visitors in a while... but I'll tell him you're here. What did you say your names were again?"

"I'm Rose and this is Willow." I repeated our introductions. "He knew our family in England, shared some classes with our mom, I think. He'll remember her."

I was fairly sure he'd remember us too, but chose not to focus on that.

A couple of hours passed and we still had seen neither hair nor hide of Charles. Hank approached us for the third time in that lapse, asking if we needed anything (and feeling more than a little chagrined at his friend's despondence, even when he'd probably been expecting such a thing to happen... he'd warned us after all).

"It's quite alright Hank." He'd insisted we call him that after the second time. "It's not like we expected this to be easy... in fact, if it were we wouldn't need to be here at all, I dare say."

"You still haven't told me what you're here for, exactly." Hank pointed out. "You're not former alumni of the Institute, and look too young to have children you might want to enroll..."

"Oh... but didn't you know? Appearances can be deceiving." I told him coyly, thinking about my mother, in her mid-fifties yet looking like she was hardly in her mid-twenties... if that. "In any case, I told you, we're friends of Charles. Thought we ought to drop by, see how he's doing. We... I thought we could help him with a few things..."

"I have no idea what you could possibly help him with." Hank said, almost despondently. "He doesn't need anything... it's not like he's doing anything he could need help with!"

I could hear it in that moment, the hint of despair as he said those words and I couldn't help but realize/remember that it wasn't just Charles that had suffered with everything that had happened over the last decade; I just hoped that by helping Charles we'd be able to help him too.

"If you would be so kind and do me one more favor." I said as something occurred to me. "Tell Charles that I've 'seen' him..."

He couldn't miss the emphasis I put on the word 'seen', but he didn't ask about it. He just went. Exactly two minutes later Charles Xavier was practically tripping down the stairs and into the little parlor where Willow and I'd been waiting. He looked unwashed and unkempt, in old pajama pants and a washed-out wrinkled robe only half on, feet bare.

"Rose?!" He called as he entered the room.

I smiled at him. He looked awful, he really did, but I reminded myself that it could be worse, and we were there to help. We'd make things better... somehow.

"What did you see?" He asked straight out, ignoring both Willow and Hank completely.

"Well..." I drawled with a half-smile. "Had I known that would be your reaction I'd have sent that particular message hours ago!"

"What did you see?" He demanded yet again.

"I saw the world going to hell." Quite literally... The mere memory of the vision made me shiver. "You were one of the people at the center of it all."

"And the other?" He asked, brow raised.

"That's not what matters, not right now." I shook my head. "I'm here for you."

It wasn't a lie, not at all, but it wasn't the complete truth either. Still, a time would come for us to talk about Erik Lehnsherr and the part he played in the world, in mutant society, and in Charles's life (a ribbon of multi-colored light...).

Charles stared at me for the longest time, I could almost hear the questions circling in his head; though I knew he didn't actually have his telepathy in that moment... he was walking after all... and even if he had it, he'd always had a hard time reaching into my mind, claimed it was too chaotic for him to get more than a few words and a lot of nonsense (which was probably a good thing, considering all that was in my head as a consequence of my most recent vision...).

xXx

At first things were relatively easy, though that was probably because we weren't really asking anything of Charles. He began joining Willow and I as we took long walks around the estate, followed by some tai-chi in the garden. At first he looked oddly at us as we went through the katas but eventually, either because he was curious or just bored, he began copying us.

He also joined us as we practiced other skills. We were both skilled at jujitsu, though Willow favored using her feet and tricky footwork, while I went for fast moves with my arms, twists and taking people down hard. I was also good at archery, and wielding short-knives (Mama had taught me both). Willow couldn't do archery, as the scar tissue in the back of her left shoulder bothered her when she tried it, and aside for defensive maneuvers she didn't much like knives either; however, as we'd found out during one of Hakon's breaks, she was awesome with guns, hardly ever failed a shot.

Truth be told, Will didn't really like fighting, she'd told me before, it went against her instincts; however, she knew that everyone in the family were warriors and, in her own words, she wasn't willing to be a liability, or worse, have us leave her behind in an attempt to protect her. So she learned to fight, and never regretted it. I just hoped it'd never become necessary.

Charles was also curious about my powers. So I showed him, over the past 18 years I'd gained almost complete mastery of my power over fire. My Sight would probably always do whatever it wanted to, beyond my control, but that was alright too.

Hank was the first to point out the obvious changes:

"Do you also have the power to create miracles?" He asked me early one morning (before I reached the garden for our morning exercises).

"What?" I didn't understand what he could possibly mean.

"Charles!" He said, as if that ought to be sufficient answer, and when it became obvious it wasn't, he elaborated. "He's getting out of that bedroom consistently, eating at least twice a day, he's doing some exercise! He even cut down his consumption of alcohol by more than half!"

"Yeah... it's a bad idea to try and do balance exercises when you're hungover." I deadpanned.

It was the truth, after falling for the umpteenth time when trying to stand on one foot, it'd become obvious to Charles that he wouldn't be getting anywhere in that state, and without his telepathy he couldn't simply fiddle with his own brain enough to make the effects disappear, so he was left to endure it like all baseline humans... He still drank, there was no stopping that, but apparently it was a lot less than it'd been before our arrival to the mansion.

That was only the start though. Will loved plants and gardens, and after getting permission from Charles she'd gone to town and bought a lot of seedlings and other small plants that could be easily transplanted into flowerbeds, most of which had either dried or been overrun by weeds due to the lack of a gardener in the last few years. Will didn't mind the hard work, she loved it in fact, seemed to almost delight in it. Watching the manor's grounds change ever so slowly under her tender and constant care. The rest of us could see the changes taking place as well; as ever so slowly the Xavier estate began looking more like a home again...

There was still much to be done, of course. I had no idea how to bring up the matter of the serum and Charles's powers; much less the school and the X-Men, but I knew they'd be necessary, all of them, sooner rather than later. And that was without considering the other side of the equation, which (despite Charles not having his powers) I was trying very hard not to think about: Erik Lehnsherr... it was a toss-up which one would be harder to sell to Charles: the reclaiming of his telepathy, or getting Erik Lehnsherr out of prison... Who was I kidding? The matter of Lehnsherr was gonna be much, much worse!

xXx

One particular morning, almost two months after first arriving to Westchester, I was in town buying some chocolate, as my stash was getting dangerously low (chocolate, in all its varieties was a very particular addiction that I inherited from my parents... according to the family, along with my stubbornness and a particular quirk in my temper that was rare but supposedly quite memorable to the few that had witnessed it); I ran into someone unexpected.

I didn't pay her much attention at first. She looked young, younger than me even (then again, there were times when my own mother looked younger than me!), with unblemished skin and shockingly white hair (it was probably the only reason I took a second look at her), eyes covered by dark glasses, and with the thin cane in her hand I could easily deduce they were meant less to protect her from the sun, and more to hide unseeing eyes.

I saw her right before going into the grocery store where, aside from my chocolates I also bought several fruits that were in season and the ingredients to make pancakes (another thing Mama had gotten me almost addicted to as a child), they were my preferred comfort food; and I knew that whenever I decided to finally bring up the matter of quitting the serum to Charles things would blow up and I'd end needing them, we probably all would.

I couldn't help but noticing her outside the store as my purchases were being rung, and it was then that an odd feeling began filling me, something was off. As discretely as I could I looked around, trying to find anyone suspicious, people who might be there to cause trouble, either for me or for Charles. I couldn't see anyone... though that didn't mean they weren't there. With that in mind I decide to cut my trip short; I'd probably have to take a roundabout way back to the manor, but needs must.

I stepped out of the store in enough of a hurry that it took me a fraction of a second to notice there was someone heading straight into my path: the white-haired woman... calling on instincts I'd never used outside of training I side-stepped neatly, evading her completely. I was about to walk completely past her, when I heard her call:

"Rose of Chaos..." It took me a second to realize she was the one calling, she was calling to me, and not in English, but in Romany.

I spun back towards her, and as I stared into her milky-white eyes (I'd no idea where her dark-glasses had gone) it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist. People were still walking past us, paying us no mind, and I ignored them in return, all my attention on the woman before me, as I abruptly came to a realization. She wasn't working for any government (or anti-government) organization, not at all; she was on her own, and she was like me...

"Destiny..." Her name crossed my lips before I was fully conscious of it.

It was also then that I fully processed the name she'd called me by: Rose of Chaos... it fit me perfectly, in ways I could have never imagined before hearing it out-loud, I liked it.

"Rose of Chaos..." She repeated. "You're heading down a dangerous, treacherous path."

"I have no idea what you speak of." I answered, only half-lying.

"What you intend to do, it's not meant to be done." She pressed. "We of the Sight are meant to be Witnesses, not Changers..."

"What's the point of seeing the future, of witnessing a possible tragedy when you do nothing at all to try and stop it?" I rebutted.

It was the same point I'd always argued with my mama, particularly after finding out that she literally came from the future. She knew so much... and was doing nothing to stop it, to change it, to make it better!

"It is not our place." Destiny insisted. "We of the Sight have been put in this world for a reason: to watch over the universe, to be the Keepers of Balance. Only when the universe is truly on the edge may we intervene, not before."

"And what if by the time the world reaches the edge it's too late already to change it?" I retorted. "What if, by changing things now, we can stop it from every getting that far, can keep things from ever being that bad?"

"What if your attempts only make things worse?" Destiny asked in return, completely serene. "Our powers are dangerous, even more so than your friend's. Yes, I know about Charles Xavier, I know his potential; he could hold the minds of half the world in his hands; with a little help, the whole world even, and while that's a lot of power, being able to touch so many minds, he couldn't control the whole world at the same time."

"But we could." I realized it, abruptly, blood running cold.

"We could." Destiny agreed, expression softening just a fraction. "By interfering we're effectively changing people's fates. It could be something small, or it could be something huge, and the bigger the change we make... we may end up invalidating their own choices. Humanity, and I include mutants in that, are meant to have free will, to make their own choices, no matter how right or wrong. We aren't supposed to take that from them..."

I almost bought it, almost surrendered to her wisdom, and then...

"And what about my choices?" I asked in return.

"You still don't understand." She shook her head. "You're young and impetuous, want to believe that you alone can save the world..." I didn't get the chance to defend myself, as she went on: "Your mother was much like you once. She believed that she alone, with no more weapons than her devotion and compassion, could transform the universe. Even death couldn't stop her, nor the pain her absence put all who loved her through... But she eventually learned her lesson. Much like you she believed that fate could be changed, that knowing about it could help her change things... such belief almost cost a member of your family, the one you call Sia, her life."

I knew what it was she spoke of. Mama had told me the story the day before we'd left Stark manor for Westchester, not in an attempt to stop us, because she knew nothing would, but so we'd be careful, not take unnecessary risks. She told us of knowing what would happen to Sgt. Barnes on the mission to capture Zola, about sharing the information with Sia, who was his lover; how Sia had done everything she could to save the man, nearly falling off the moving train herself in the process... yet in the end there was nothing she could do. James Barnes was still lost... That had taught me a lesson, certainly, though probably not the one Mama had intended:

"I know what the cost of my interference might be." I said in my most serious voice. "I am not blind, or naïve, and neither is my sister. We both came into this with eyes wide open, perfectly aware of the possible consequences of both our actions, and our in-actions." I let out a breath. "To be perfectly honest with you, I'm far more afraid of what might happen if I don't at least try this, than of what might happen to me for interfering."

It was the truth. Whatever might have happened beyond the darkness that prevailed in the last piece of my vision, whatever might have prompted Magneto to go back to being Erik Lehnsherr for just a moment, and to pronounce such words: "All those years wasted fighting each other Charles... to have a precious few of them back..." It couldn't be anything good.

"So you've made up your mind then." Destiny seemed to realize, finally, that her efforts were for naught, I wouldn't back down.

"What can I say? I'm stubborn like that." I shrugged carelessly, before adding in a more serious tone: "I may be a Seer, but I'm not just a seer, I am fire and I am chaos, a woman and a gifted... and I will not limit myself to existing on the edge of the world, to watching history pass me by. I've made my choice, and I'll stand by it against whoever and whatever might come."

"Very well." Destiny let out a breath. "On your head it be."

It would have been anyway. The world going to hell due to my in-actions would have actually hurt more than anything that might happen because of my choice to step in, to help.

No more words were said, they weren't needed. We each had made quite clear where we stood, only time would prove us right or wrong...

xXx

Xavier Mansion seemed oddly empty when I got back. It's not like there were a lot of people living there, just the four of us, but I still found it odd. It took no effort for me to track my sister, she was on the grounds, some distance away from the house, working on some new plants she'd just bought a couple of days earlier. Hank was in one of the sub-levels, probably in his lab. It was harder to find Charles, his essence felt wrong, with the effects of the serum.

Eventually I did find him, in a room that looked like it belonged to a despondent teenager, rather than a man in his late thirties and with a PhD (never-mind a former Professor). He was sitting, somewhat careless of his posture, with his back against the headboard. On the night table beside him rested a tumbler with at least three fingers of scotch (that he was no longer so bad didn't mean he'd stopped drinking altogether, we'd all known that); however, my eyes instantly went to the syringe in his hand, and the green-tinted liquid inside it.

"Is that really what you want to do?" I asked before I could think twice about it.

I'd been so careful, in the nearly eight weeks we'd been there, never to go into his room, never to approach him when I knew he'd need to inject himself (Hank had given me a rough estimate) never to so much as mention his lack of telepathy. But I just couldn't do it anymore. I didn't actually know if it was the talk I'd had with the other precog, Destiny, or something else entirely; maybe a part of me just knew it was time to stop playing games and get down to business.

"Excuse me?" He turned to look at me, though without putting down the syringe. "What are you doing here Rose?"

"I think we both know exactly what I'm doing here." I retorted, as calmly as I could.

"No." Charles shook his head, more to himself than to me. "You're never here for this... you stay away, give me the time I need, and then everything can go back to normal!"

"Whose version of normal?" I inquired, brow arched. "In case you haven't noticed Charles, none of us are exactly normal."

"Willow..." He began.

"Do not try and use my sister as an excuse." I shut him off. "Besides, Willow might be human, but she's no more normal than the rest of us."

It was true, with the lives we lead, with who our relatives were, it was kind of impossible for us to fit any version of normal... unless it was our own of course.

"We may continue playing house for as long as you want Charles." I went on. "It will change nothing in the end."

"Have you any idea, what will happen if I stop taking this?" He asked pointedly.

"I do." I admitted quietly. "I saw how this all began." I didn't dare be any more explicit than that, just remembering made me want to cry. "I know it will not be easy. But I'm here. I'm here and I'm not leaving Charles, I promise you that. I will help you through this, Willow and Hank too." I let out a breath, not knowing what else to say, but some of the truth I'd been keeping to myself. "I've seen the man you're meant to be Charles, and it's not this... this self-deprecating weak shell of a man who believed he'd nothing left to do but give up, who knows the world is falling to pieces, and yet cannot even think of a way to put it back together..."

"How can I put anything back together when I myself am broken inside?!" Charles's voice cracked at that.

"By putting yourself back together first." I answered softly. "You don't even have to do it alone. I told you already. I'm here. We all are. You're not alone..."

Charles actually staggered back, hard enough to nearly bang his head against the headboard at that, though I had no idea why. What could I have possibly said...?

Unbidden, the memory came:

I was on a Coast Guard ship, I was supposed to help the CIA team take Sebastian Shaw into custody. We knew him to be in the Caspartina, a yacht that had been reported to be off the coast of Florida. But there was a telepath with Shaw, she blocked me and there was nothing I could do to help the CIA. Agent Platt told Moira and I to go below deck after the fight began, it'd be safer (particularly from the cyclones being caused by another of Shaw's... associates. We followed him, only for something unexpected to stop me in my tracks. An essence, a mind, so strong I couldn't help but feel it, it attracted me in a way no mind ever had...

I was fascinated by his power, the way he pulled at the Caspartina's anchor and used it to tear at the yacht, though that was obviously not enough; particularly when a submarine disengaged from the ship. Then he (the bright, beautiful mind was a he, I could tell that much) turned his attention, his power towards the submarine... but instead of stopping it, the vessel pulled him. The realization hit me like a bucket of iced-water: the sub was too much for him, it was pulling him down, if he didn't let go he was going to drown...

I yelled at him, both out-loud and with my mind, but nothing seemed to work. And then I did something completely insane. I ran to the edge of the ship, kicked off my shoes, pulled off my coat, and jumped into the black ocean. It was absolutely insane. I didn't even know him! And yet there I was, braving the water in a way I hadn't since Cain had tried to drown me during our last trip to the beach (all as a joke of course...).

When I finally reached him I tried to pull at him, but he was just so strong, nothing I did was enough to move him, to even call his attention. So I did the only thing I'd left to do, I dove into his mind. There was so much darkness: violence and pain and grief, that I couldn't help but brace for the needles I expected to attack my psyche... only they never did. It was like falling through quicksand, or what I imagine falling through quicksand might feel like, I fell straight through all that darkness, taking in impressions and flashes of memory (each more horrific than the last, the most painful ones always seemed to include the same man: Sebastian Shaw... Klaus Schmidt...).

*You can't. You'll drown.* I did my best to get through to him, speaking directly into his mind. *You have to let go. I know what this means to you but you're going to die. Please Erik, calm your mind.*

I would never know if it was the words, or the fact that I'd spoken straight into his mind, but he listened to me. He let go of the submarine and soon we both broke the surface. I began calling for the people on the ship to help us, even as I tried to make sure he wouldn't just disappear...

"Get off me! Get off me!" He yelled at me.

"Calm down, just breathe." I tried to placate him before turning up. "We're here!"

"Who are you?" He demanded of me.

"My name is Charles Xavier." I answered promptly.

"You were in my head." He snapped, as if only then truly realizing it. "How did you do that?"

"You have your tricks I have mine." I told him, somewhat cryptically. "I'm like you, just calm your mind."

I couldn't help but feel that if he didn't I would get lose in it again, and that probably wouldn't be a good thing. I didn't want to scare him off. We'd only just met, and already I didn't know what I'd do if he were to disappear. The attraction he exercised upon me was like that of the earth upon the moon, or perhaps metal to a magnet... how perfectly poetic... and perhaps ironic.

"I thought I was alone." He half-panted, in a tone that stated he wouldn't normally reveal that much, but he was probably still a bit out-of-it, after using his powers as he had.

"You're not alone... Erik, you're not alone."

I was the one who snapped back then, as a part of me realized why exactly Charles had reacted as he had to my particular choice of words... at the same part another corner of my mind began to comprehend that that hadn't been a memory of mine, or a vision... No, it was Charles's memory, which he'd unwittingly projected. It was as expected: as the serum left his blood, he slowly lost control and sensation of his lower limbs, even as his telepathy began manifesting; and after so long he simply had no control.

"Do you realize now what you're asking of me, and the consequences?" Charles asked, voice somewhat hoarse.

"I'm here." Was all I said, I really didn't think anything else was needed.

xXx

I'm not sure what it was that convinced him in the end (I'd never been that good, if I was honest with myself). But in the end Charles agreed to at least try. We got Hank and Willow to leave the estate for a while, then I focused on settling my mind as much as I possibly could (it wasn't impossible, just a tad hard, and not the natural state for it to be in), allowing Charles a mind to connect to, and even to hide in, when the voices in his became too much.

It took three days for the serum to fully leave his blood. They were probably the hardest days of my entire life, as I sat beside Charles most of the time, chatting whenever he could focus long enough to keep a conversation, reading to him when he couldn't. At some point we moved to a different room, a music room, and I played the piano for him (I didn't have my mother's talent for the traversal flute, but I was quite good with the piano, if I said so myself).

There were times when his telepathy would act-up and he projected memories into my head (mostly of the last decade or so... though a few of his Oxford years, of the time he'd known my parents, and even a handful or so of his childhood); when it became too much I'd allow him into my head, into my own memories. I always tried my best to steer him into nice, happy ones, most of them of Willow and I growing up, having fun, being children; though I was quite sure I'd slipped a couple of times at least, and if he didn't yet know the truth about the family, he at least knew enough to realize we weren't humans... or even mutants.

Things got a little better on the third day. Charles agreed to sit on his wheelchair and I lead him on a stroll around the gardens, which looked absolutely stunning with all the work Will had been putting into them. With the serum almost fully gone, so had almost all sensation past his lower back vanished (there were slight exceptions, but those were details I really didn't need to know); his telepathy was also back, almost in full force, thankfully, all that also meant that his first shields were back, and he was beginning to get back his control. We'd managed to survive through the worst of it.

It would be a while before he was in full control once again, and it was unlikely he'd ever go back to how he'd been years earlier (and not only because of the loss of his legs); the events in Cuba, and the war in Vietnam had made him change in ways that simply couldn't be undone. Charles still was very much an optimist, still wanting to believe the best of people, still wishing for integration, rather than for a fight between species... but at the same time he knew not everyone would agree, and there would even be those who would fight for the exact opposite. I trusted one day he'd be willing to fight for what he believed in.

Hank and Willow returned to the manor after the three days had passed. Knowing full well that there was a chance things might slip past Charles's shield during the night, until his subconscious mind got fully used to his telepathy again. They were willing to risk it, it was proof of just how deeply they cared for Charles; and I knew he could sense that.

That night something unexpected happened. Oddly enough, I'd been quite able to sleep (if few hours at a time) with a barely in control telepath by my side, with dreams that would morph into memories (either his or mine) and sometimes a mix of both, without trouble. It was when I went back to sleeping alone, in my own bed, that something inside me seemed to snap:

I woke up sometime in the early hours of the morning, mind so chaotic I couldn't quite make out my own thoughts. As I sat up I could see the fire in the hearth and the candles all around the room alight, flames rising high. Yet unlike the previous occasions when such a thing had happened, no visions had been involved. Or at least no new ones, instead my mind was a chaotic mix of the visions that I'd had about Charles and Erik, as well as the things I'd seen in Charles's own mind over the previous three days, the whole thing was driving me crazy.

At some point a part of me became aware of the fact that I was no longer alone. There were people in the room with me, but I wasn't listening to them, I couldn't hear, not even really see anything past the mess inside my own head. I only vaguely felt it as a pair of small hands held mine, pulled me off the bed and made me walk slowly. A part of me knew, instinctively, that those were my sister's hands, but I couldn't focus enough to reply in any way, to do anything except follow where she lead. I trusted her completely.

Time passed, it might have been minutes, might have been hours. And then those hands lead me to sit on a padded bench, before placing my fingers over cold ivory keys... I was sitting at the piano. That realization was shocking enough that I could vaguely register the next words to reach my ears:

"Let it out, phei..." It was Willow's voice. "Just like Mama does..."

I did. I didn't even have to think about it. From a moment to the next my fingers began dancing over the keys, at the same time my voice rose in song (I didn't think it was quite as precious as my mother's, who was known across all the realms for possessing the most beautiful voice ... but it was still elven, soft and keen and well-tuned). I'd never actually sung before, not even for myself, and yet there was no effort needed, the words simply came from my lips as if I'd memorized them long ago, as if I'd known them, and their tune, all along:

"On the first page of our story
The future seemed so bright
Then this thing turned out so evil
I don't know why I'm still surprised
Even angels have their wicked schemes
And you take that to new extremes
But you'll always be my hero
Even though you've lost your mind"

No more than two lines were necessary to make it obvious that I wasn't myself in that moment. No, I was Charles... the Charles of the past, of 1962, who had connected to a mind in the black ocean, off the coast of Miami on a dark summer night and never looked back; who, in that single touch fell so much in love with a mind he was willing to do anything for its owner, whether that was jumping into the ocean, fighting a war, or even diving into the mind of the most evil being ever known and then become both victim and executioner at the same time, as he helped the bright mind destroy its torturer, even while fearing what might become of them all afterwards. The Charles of the remaining 1960s, who tried so hard to keep fighting the good fight, to remain optimistic against all odds... only to eventually lose the fight (and nearly his life).

"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's all right because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's all right because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie"

I was also the Charles of the present. The man who'd been so lost in his own grief and defeat and self-loathing that he could no longer see the world around himself; could no longer see how much it, how much everyone around truly needed him. Or maybe he'd known all along, and had just been too afraid to fail again, not realizing that he'd never failed; that one mistake, one defeat didn't mean it was the end. That they could stand back up, could still make things right... not until two girls arrived out of nowhere, ready to show him the way, to open the door to a better path for them all (and it was a bit of a novel concept, seeing my sister and myself, our arrival to the estate and everything our actions meant, through another's eyes, through Charles's eyes and mind).

"Now there's gravel in our voices
Glass is shattered from the fight
In this tug of war, you'll always win
Even when I'm right
'Cause you feed me fables from your hand
With violent words and empty threats
And it's sick that all these battles
Are what keeps me satisfied"

And then there was the Charles of the future, a future that would hopefully never come to be, except, perhaps, for the best parts of it. After all, Professor X was still needed, as much as he'd ever been. The mutant community, and the world in general, still needed him to lead them, guide them, to teach them to be all they could be, though only once he'd become all he himself could be (it was the whole point of my being there, after all, helping him, and through him, hopefully, the rest of the world). In the end it wasn't only about him, or even the Institute. The X-Men would be needed too one day (one might argue they already were, even if they didn't know it), to protect mutants and baseline humans both, to show the world they could be trusted to keep themselves in check, to do good with their gifts, to be guardians, protectors, warriors... the better men.

"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's all right because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's all right because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie"

And it wasn't even just about Charles, because the things I'd seen hadn't been just about him, from the very beginning, it had been about him and Erik, Professor X and Magneto... and the cord of multi-colored light that bound them together. It'd taken me a ridiculously long time to realize what that particular detail meant, but once I did it was all so painfully obvious I couldn't believe I hadn't realized it from the start. They weren't the first pair I'd met, connected by such a mystical ribbon, after all; my own parents were exactly the same. But then again, my parents had never been on opposite sides of a war, or of an ideological arena. Matter of fact, I'd never seen them be at odds about anything. Oh, I was quite sure they must have their disagreements, like any married couple, but I'd never seen them; and most importantly, I'd never seen them hold anything or anyone higher than the other; their love was that absolute, the love of a perfect match.

"So maybe I'm a masochist
I try to run but I don't wanna ever leave
Til the walls are goin' up
In smoke with all our memories"

As the song advanced, the images inside my head began settling down, creating two perfect lives, like two lines that wove together and apart in perfect harmony. It was obvious Charles had at some point obtained a number of memories from Erik, and they'd slipped into my head along with Charles's own over the previous three days; and in that moment, as I sought to find balance in myself (mind, heart and soul) once more, they created the perfect picture of two men destined for each other so perfectly... except for the part where they each lead one side of an ideological conflict that was likely to go on past the end of the world itself (literally)... it was absolutely ridiculous, and I simply didn't know how to fix it! Wasn't sure it could be fixed at all, and even if it could, it certainly wasn't by me, or by any other outsider. No, only Charles and Erik could fix what the two of them had broken, especially where it came to themselves and one another.

"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's all right because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's all right because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
Ohhh, I love the way you lie"

xXx

None of us went to sleep after my little episode. Instead, by some sort of silent agreement we all ended sitting around the small island in the kitchen, having strawberry pancakes with honey and some cold chocolate-milk for a sort-of breakfast (I'd been right about the comfort food...). No one said a word for the longest time, though eventually it was Hank who broke the silence.

"You have a beautiful voice." He commented quietly. "Almost..."

"Inhuman?" I offered, when he seemed to be unable to find the right word.

"A bit, yes." He admitted sheepishly. "Is that another power of yours?"

"Not quite..." I actually took a moment to think about it, before finally deciding that the truth was going to come out sooner or later. "I'm sure Charles either became aware of this through my memories, or at least suspects it. I'm not human, no one in my family is, not quite." I thought that over. "Well, for all intents and purposes, Mama was born human in this life..."

"This life...?!" Hank cried out in shock.

"It's a bit of a long story." I admitted, and when both he and Charles showed interest I dove straight into it. "Earth is not the only world with life, not by a long shot. If you're familiar with Norse mythology then you'll know what I'm talking about when I tell you there are Nine Realms, all connected, each with its own history, traditions, its own races... of course, those aren't even the only worlds, but they're the ones relevant to this tale..."

"Norse mythology?" Hank spoke up, confused. "You mean like Odin and Frigg and Thor...?"

"Yes, all of them." I nodded. "They aren't quite the gods the ancient Norse believed them to be, not immortal or invulnerable, but they do live very long lives, and have powers that surpass those of even the most powerful mutants you could imagine. Odin, Frigg, Thor, they all exist; as do many more... I call them family."

I told them the whole story then... or at least most of it. About my Papa, who was born the son of Laufey, the bloodthirsty King of the Jotun, a runt, taken and adopted by Odin and Frigg, King and Queen of Asgard, made into Thor's little brother. I told them about Princess Lalaith of Alfheim, the would-be-Queen who'd sacrificed everything she knew, the future she'd trained for, out of love. The life they'd had, their journeys through the realms, their daughter: Helena... the mess with the Enchantress Sisters that had ended with the loss of Princess Tinúviel (formerly Lalaith) to death, along with her unborn child. Only for her to be reborn nearly nine centuries later, as a human girl: Silbhé who, by some accident of fate, met a disguised Loki while sitting in her rose-garden at age eleven. An encounter that would change the lives of them both completely.

The whole story about them came out, though only that: nothing about the Avengers, or SHIELD, or the fact that most of that had actually happened fifty years in the future (it helped when the later part of my story went into the events of WWII).

"So you see, my voice is no mutation, it's nature, all elves have voices like that." I got back to the original point. "For all intents and purposes I am half-elf. Mama is known for having the most beautiful voice in all the realms." I shook my head. "She tends to play the flute or sing to express herself, it's cathartic to her..."

"Like what you did earlier..." Charles murmured thoughtfully.

"It was a beautiful song." Hank offered. "Beautiful yet so... bittersweet..."

"Heartbreaking." Willow offered for her part.

"Yes, that." Hank nodded, then went on, seemingly not thinking about it. "There was so much love and so much pain. I'd never seen you like that before. Though it was almost like..."

He broke off abruptly, looking at all three of us in turn, face going red as he looked at Charles before his mouth fell open in a mute 'o'.

"Rose wasn't singing about herself, Hank." Charles's explanation was probably unnecessary, but he still said it. "She was channeling me, my own emotions."

Hank nodded slowly. I could sense his chagrin; he felt bad for not having noticed before, when it was so obvious in retrospect; he'd seen Charles go through it, had been there for it all, he just had never expected to have it transformed into a song.

"It doesn't bother you then?" Charles asked unexpectedly. "That I love a man?"

"Love is love." Will said with a shrug. "There can be nothing wrong about it."

"That's not what most people believe." Hank stated. "I mean, even ignoring sodomy laws... if we get more technical, someone loving a murderer, or a criminal, or..."

"Some people might say that love pushed them into doing wrong things." Willow qualified. "But love itself will never be wrong. I know that some people believe the love of two men, or of two women to be wrong, a crime, a sin..." She snorted. "I believe that True Love, the love that exists between two souls, has no such limits. It exists beyond sexes, ages, races..."

She didn't say more, didn't need to. The message had been delivered.

"So, what's next?" Charles asked unexpectedly. "You got me to accept my past, my paralysis and my telepathy. I doubt you did all that without a reason."

"Maybe I just wanted to help a friend." I couldn't help the hint of petulance in my voice.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." He agreed good naturedly. "But it cannot be all, I'm sure of that. So, what's next?"

There was no point in lying. From the very beginning I'd known it would come up sooner or later. I couldn't be sure that was the right moment for it, but it had to be done, so I told him the truth:

"Erik Lehnsherr."

Chapter Text

Yellow Rose

New Friendships, 'Welcome Back's, a promise of a New Beginning...

A small room, with a small fireplace in a corner, which doubled as a stove, there was an old table with four mismatched chairs, an old, ratty couch, and on the opposite side a small area was curtained off, I knew instinctively it was what passed for a bedroom there, with an old, half-hard mattress and threadbare sheets. I ignored all that, instead walking to the window, to the figure standing there.

A five year old girl with warm chocolate brown eyes and ringlets of bright-red hair framing her oval face, in an old washed-out yellow dress (a re-purposed man's shirt); she was small for her age, probably due to malnutrition, standing by the window, watching the crowd forming at ground level, full of adults arguing with each other.

There is fire, flames that expand to take over most of the building much too quickly.

Outside, by the back of the building I'm running, I know I'm leaving my family behind and that they won't like that, but it's too important that I get to that building, that I get to her, my sister...I don't even think about it when I reach the back-door of the hostel, simply slamming the door open and, ignoring the flames jumping at me, I leap right in.

I'm only vaguely aware of the fact that, while there's fire all around me, flames dancing past my feet, licking my skin, none of it's hurting me. The fire feels more like the oddest caress than anything else. I don't focus on that, I just force my small legs (for I'm a child myself) to keep running, up several flights of stairs, until I reach the top floor. There's the little girl in the yellow dress, she's screaming and crying, and the fire is hurting her. I don't even think about it, just reach for her automatically.

I call her the wrong name. For me she's Willow (she's my sister), but she says her name's Anya. Even then, I know that's not important, what's important is getting her out, getting both of us out before it's too late (I don't know if my bit of luck with the fire will run out at some point, it's never happened to me before, I don't yet know what it means).

We managed to get back out, and my family was waiting for us. Mama immediately focused on helping Willow... Anya, as much as she could; even as, behind us, the fire went on, the building beginning to creak ominously, it'd collapse at any moment.

One moment I was with Mama, Papa, Willow/Anya and Hakon, feeling the start of some great power shifting the earth beneath our feet, and then abruptly everything changed. Suddenly I was laying on the ground, face against the dirt, screaming in a mix of languages: Romany, Russian, Yiddish, Polish, German (and when did I learn the latter three?!) There was a woman in my line of sight, with sun-burnt skin and wavy auburn hair, she was screaming, the same litany over and over again:

"Anya! My baby! Someone save my baby!"

It actually took several seconds for a corner of my mind to realize she was speaking in Romany. Her daughter was inside that building, she was dying... her daughter... my daughter. I could hear her screaming... and then I couldn't, not anymore, I couldn't hear her anymore, could see nothing through the broken windows except the flames.

Something inside me snapped then. There was a core of power inside me, it'd been there for years, enough that at times it felt it'd been there forever. I'd been holding it back, keeping it hidden for years, only using it when absolutely necessary, and never where others could see. But I'd gotten careless, made a mistake, and my family was made to pay for it. My wife... my daughter... my schatzi... I snapped.

An almost inhuman scream abandoned my lips at the same time the earth beneath me shifted, just a fraction of a second before a deafening groan announced the end. Then there was nothing but chaos, blood and death... and a woman wailing in disbelief, pain and horror...

I sat up abruptly in my bed, mouth snapping closed hard enough my teeth clicked painfully against each other. I didn't focus on that though, in that moment I could focus on nothing except trying to pull myself back to reality and to my own body.

By the time I managed to fully return to myself, I was no longer alone. Willow was sitting beside me on the bed, one of her hands rubbing soothing circles on the back of one of my hands. Charles was on the other side, body tense on his chair, as if he were debating whether to get closer or not. Hank stood at the door, looking nervously at me.

"Hey..." I called, voice hoarse.

"You were screaming." Charles answered the unasked question. "Physically and mentally."

He passed me a glass of water to help, while Willow kept comforting me.

"You terrified us, phei..." She whispered softly, cuddling into my side.

Her use of that word reminded me the woman outside the hostel in that dream, screaming for her daughter; the mother, the wife...

"Whose memory is this?" I asked Charles straight out, forcing a piece of it to the front of my mind (it wasn't exactly hard, seeing at it was already there; what was hard was not to flinch at it).

"Oh..." Charles let out a breath when picking it up. "I'm sorry dear, I didn't realize I'd passed that memory over as well."

"That doesn't answer my question Charles." I said, a bit harsher than intended.

"I actually got that memory completely by accident." The telepath went on, practically babbling. "He was having a nightmare one day, I tried to help him and ended inside it with him... he was furious when he realized I'd gotten into his head without permission, but there was just so much pain, and I wanted to help him... didn't realize it was too late and..."

"Charles!" I snapped at him.

"Erik." He finally answered, soberly. "The memory is Erik's."

I drew in a sharp breath. I'd suspected as much (though how I'd missed that particular memory when going through my very cathartic session the week before I'd no idea...). Even after the whole singing-episode I'd continued having dreams about the memories (and the visions), but they'd become more manageable. Until then...

"Oh stars..." I breathed out as the pieces finished fitting together inside my head.

"Rose..." He began, doubtful.

For all answer I brought up the whole of my dream, the mix of vision, and memories (both mine and Erik's), and passed it to him. It was done in a second, though it obviously took him several more to look over it, and fully process the implications of it all. I knew the instant it clicked, for her turned wide blue eyes straight at me. Then we both turned to look at Willow in unison.

"Oh lord..." Charles gasped in shock.

"Indeed." I agreed.

A full week talking it over, making plans, and we still had no idea how we were going to deal with the matter of Erik Lehnsherr; and with the new developments... I actually wasn't sure if it'd all make things better or worse. I wanted to believe that it would be good, for the two of them to find each other again... I wanted to believe it, but couldn't be sure. Only time would tell.

"Phei?" Willow's... Anya's voice brought me back to reality.

Erik Lehnsherr could wait, I decided, first I needed to explain to my beloved sister what I'd just discovered; that after eighteen years I'd finally found her 'Dadro'...

xXx

We tried to do things legally. I got in touch with all my contacts (they were actually my family's contacts, but that was good enough). In the next couple of weeks several packages were delivered to a number of postboxes in Manhattan, Stamford, Bridgeport, Danbury, and other smaller towns in the vicinity of Westchester (though none in Westchester itself). I got copies of every single photo there was of the day President Kennedy had been shot, even a few videos. I also got files from the policemen who'd taken Erik Lehnsherr in (some of whom had actually admitted that he'd turned himself in... rather than the fantastical tale the government had tried to spin at one point), statements from everyone who'd been involved in his original detainment, what his so-called lawyer had worked with (which wasn't much) and, finally, a copy of the transcript of the 'secret trial' that had taken place.

"How did you even get your hands on this?" Hank asked, shocked when seeing the last.

"My family has friends in very high places." I answered honestly. "I told you before, Mama is, at least legally, the youngest Stark, and even if she's not as well known as Uncle Howard... people knows about her, respect her. And it's not even just about her name. There are people who still remember what my parents and Aunt Sia did during WWII, and that's enough for them to agree to help me, no matter how odd my requests might be."

"They also probably don't know what you're actually planning on doing with all this information" Charles pointed out, signaling to all the pictures. "At most they might believe you a fan of Magneto, or simply a conspiracy-theorist..."

"Probably." I admitted with a shrug. "Doesn't matter."

It really didn't. The truth would come out eventually.

We got to work together. Picking through everything I'd gotten to find the evidence we needed, the evidence of Erik Lehnsherr's innocence in the matter of Kennedy's assassination. It wasn't easy. I knew we couldn't just go to the authorities and tell them the Winter Soldier had done it, and not only because no one outside the Intelligence community had so much as heard of the Soldier; but because even they believed him to be little more than a legend. We also had no idea what Erik Lehnsherr had been doing in Dallas, and particularly so close to the president, that day. What little would have been considered solid proof under normal circumstances (the lack of gun, the angle of the shot, etc.) simply wasn't enough, not when the man being accused was Magneto, and everyone knew he 'had a way with guns'.

Even then I wasn't giving up. Nothing would ever make me do that. Eventually, though, I was forced to accept that the four of us alone might not be enough. So, with that in mind, I sent a telegram to the one person I thought might be able to help me. I got a phone-call straight to the mansion just a week later.

"Rosie Rose..." A male voice called from the other end of the line.

"Hakon!" I couldn't help but exclaim in delight.

"My darling sister..." Hakon went on, his tone was odd, sounding almost amused, though with a hint of disapproval. "What kind of chaos have you been causing now?"

"Huh?" I wasn't expecting that one. "None at all! Not yet at least..."

"That's not what I've heard." Hakon replied. "Quite the opposite in fact. I believe you've kicked a veritable hornets' nest..."

"But I haven't done anything yet!" I couldn't fully keep myself from whining.

"You've done enough." His voice turned abruptly serious. "What's your interest with Kennedy's killer anyway?"

"You and I both know Erik Lehnsherr did not kill Kennedy." I pointed out evenly.

"Yeah well, unless Aunt Sia found the Winter Soldier at some point in the last few years and I'm not aware... you're going to have a hard time proving that." He replied.

"I know that!" I was sure I was sounding petulant as I said that. "That's why I sent you that message. I need a kickass lawyer to help us with this. Someone who's willing to believe that he's innocent... unlike the poor excuse for an attorney they saddled Erik with in the original trial..."

"Oh little sister..." I could almost see him shaking his head at me. "You know that I've never actually defended anyone. I may be a lawyer, but I went straight from college to the army... I have no experience..."

"I know that." I cut him off. "I know that Hakon, but who else could I go to? Less than a dozen people truly believe in Erik Lehnsherr's innocence, and from all of us you're the only one who has the slightest idea how to handle something like this! And you have the fancy degree too..."

"Rose..." His voice turned so somber I felt my blood go cold (something that should have been impossible, seeing how I'm fire). "Rosie... you need to realize, that fancy degree or not, and past experience notwithstanding... this will not work."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, a bit colder than entirely necessary.

"When I first arrived to Vietnam, a few years ago, I was assigned to a special unit." My brother began to explain. "Mostly because I was the new guy, and while I'd just been promoted to Mayor, most saw me as little more than an upstart, the kind who got promoted through nepotism."

"That's absolute ridiculous!" I couldn't help but speak in my brother's defense instantly.

"Yes, of course, but that's not the point." He waved it off easily. "The point is that I soon realized why all the other high-ranked soldiers refused to work with that unit... they're mutants."

I froze, almost literally. Memories of my visions came to me, the day when Alex had learnt he was being drafted; the thought I'd had back then, of how hopefully my brother would be able to do something for him...

"When I got promoted to Lieutenant Colonel last year I was offered a move, but I chose to stay." He went on. "Was put officially in charge of the unit. You have no idea how hard I've had to fight to keep those boys safe... we've taken loses in battle, but it's the dangers that they're in once we're off the field that worry me more. More than once I've received orders to have one or more of my men sent along with Mayor William Stryker... especially men who are injured, candidates for honorable discharge, or those who've finished their tours and chosen not to continue..."

"Hakon..." I didn't like how that sounded.

"I'm sure you're thinking the same thing I thought when I connected the dots." He agreed. "It's why I've refused every single order to that effect. It hasn't been easy, and I don't want to think what happened to the men who were in such situations before I assumed command of this unit. William Stryker is not a good man Rose, I don't need Mama's empathy to know that, it's written all over his face. He despises mutants and makes no secret of it. Sees all gifted as abominations." Which obviously meant he knew nothing of Hakon himself. "He also is said to be 'close' to the founder and CEO of Trask Industries, Bolivar Trask..."

"Trask Industries?" I repeated, remembering some things I'd heard our parents and Uncle Howard say in the past. "Isn't that company..."

"Uncle Howard's competition, yes." He finished for me. "There have also been rumors of some 'unethical' practices..."

I didn't need him to be any more explicit than that; and when put together with the orders for mutant soldiers looking for discharge to be sent with him... it didn't paint a pretty picture. Not at all. I almost felt sick just thinking about it.

"What's the point to all this Hakon?" Because I knew there had to be one, I also suspected I really wasn't going to like it. I was right.

"I've been dealing with Stryker like clockwork, every other week, for the last year." He explained quietly. "He missed our appointment last week. When I put that together with your little telegram I did some discreet digging... apparently a certain prisoner is being transferred next week... there are orders to have him finish his sentence in a private high-security prison..."

"What can possibly be more private and high-security than a cell at the bottom of the Pentagon?!" I couldn't help but cry out in shock.

"One created and controlled by Trask Industries..."

I was no fool, and was perfectly capable of reading between the lines. Erik Lehnsherr wasn't being sent to another prison, he was being handed over to Trask, in the place of the soldiers they weren't getting to, thanks to my brother. If that happened... he'd never be seen alive again, he'd probably be dead in less than a month.

"Tell me sis, how much do you want to save that man?" He inquired softly.

"The world needs Erik Lehnsherr." Was my answer.

I had no words to express everything that was running through my mind right then. All the things I'd seen, and all I simply knew... the world needed Erik Lehnsherr, both for himself, and for Charles Xavier, because whether my friend wanted to accept it or not, he needed Erik. The two mutants needed each other, and the world needed them (preferably together... but that was a matter for later).

"Then you must know you'll need to go off-book for this one." He murmured.

I didn't ask him what he meant by that, I didn't need to. I also realized it wouldn't be just a matter of going off-book; the actions we'd need to take would be downright illegal... then again, it would not be exactly the first time. While our family were warriors by birth, the 'good guys' that didn't mean we weren't ready to do what needed to be done, for the right reasons: Mama had stood by Papa when he was believed to be a villain, the leader of an army that intended to conquer our planet... and I didn't even want to think what Aunt Sia might be doing in her attempts to track down the Winter Soldier (though, on that front, I didn't actually know why she was so interested on that individual...).

"Very well." I nodded, even knowing he couldn't see me. "Thank you for everything Hakon."

"Of course little sister." I could hear his soft smile. "And remember, if you ever need help..."

"I'll call you." I finished.

I knew that if things went wrong he'd be there to bail me out, as would the rest of our family. Still, I hoped that wouldn't be necessary. The life of a man was at stake and if I failed... well, that was one prospect I didn't really want to contemplate.

"Thank you, big brother." I murmured. "Take care. Don't die out there."

"Never." He replied, almost cheerful. "And whatever chaos you unleash, take care."

"I will." I assured him. "Love ya."

"Love you too, Rosie Rose." He replied, and then he hung up.

We never said goodbye, there was no need, we'd be seeing each other again after all.

xXx

The following week passed a bit faster than any of us would have preferred. When the day came we didn't actually have a plan, we only knew the roads the convoy transporting Magneto was taking and that there was a very small window of opportunity for us to take him before he was in Trask's clutches. If such a thing ever happened... well, I knew I could call the cavalry (meaning my parents, and I would be able to convince them to help... but I didn't want to go that far).

The basic idea we had was to go after the convoy at a point where they'd be driving past a cliff-side, around the middle point between DC and Trask Industries HQs in Upstate New York; the kind of road where vehicles had to travel single-file. Charles would mess with their minds and perception just enough for Hank and I to get Erik out and away without any of them so much as suspecting foul play. Hopefully they wouldn't realize what had happened until they'd made it to TI, and would have no way of knowing what had happened, or where (I'd also sent an urgent telegram to Hakon, letting him know I was unleashing some chaos... just so he'd have a heads-up, because if we succeeded, Stryker and Trask would be furious, and they were liable to try and take it out on Hakon's unit).

Of course, things just couldn't go the way we'd planned (that probably would have been asking for too much...). First, there were more vehicles in the convoy than we'd originally anticipated, then there was the fact that a few of the people on the middle two trucks were actually wearing telepathy-blockers, a much cruder version of the helmet Magneto had taken from Shaw and had taken to wearing after Cuba.

"The plan isn't going to work." Willow muttered in all our ears.

She was at the top of the cliff, with military-grade binoculars and the communications array Hank had built to keep all of us in touch without over-working Charles's telepathy. Charles himself, limited in his motions due to the chair, had made us place him in a concealed groove a couple of feet bellow the edge of the cliff; where he'd be able to pick the thoughts of everyone passing easily (except for the whole 'blockers' thing).

"Well, we better think of a new plan then, because we won't be having another chance." I half-snapped, unable to help myself.

"Can we cause... I don't know, a minor accident or something?" Hank suggested. "Even if they realize Erik escaped, they'd still have no reason to think anyone helped him. All things metal are his specialty after all."

"Erik is incapacitated." Charles admitted grimly. "He's currently so drugged I cannot properly reached his mind... and that's without counting the cold."

"Cold?" Willow and I asked in sync, confused.

"They have him in a small, box-like cage, in the fourth vehicle." Charles clarified. "And it's very, very cold inside, almost like an ice-box..."

"The Meissner effect..." Hank breathed out in realization. "They expel the magnetic field from a superconductor, in this case Erik, by taking it below it's critical temperature and..."

"Hank, English!" Will practically snapped at him.

"They're using extreme cold to keep Erik from using his powers." He summarized. "The drugs are keeping him unconscious... and are probably helping keep him alive despite the extreme temperatures his body is being subjected to."

"How extreme?" Charles asked, suddenly very quiet.

"Below 200 °C, most likely." Hank admitted in the same tone. "Truth be told, even with the drugs, I just don't know how he'll be i... when we get him out."

I saw what was coming barely a handful of seconds before it did.

"Everyone beware!" I called loudly into my comm. "Shockwave coming!"

It did, the force hit the cliff-side with enough power to cause part of it to crumble (thankfully not anywhere that would hurt either Willow or Charles). There was a lot of screeching and cursing as half the vehicles of the convoy were forced to stop abruptly, some actually having to do some maneuvering so as not to end up buried by debris, or going off the cliff. Two actually did crash against some rocks, though there were no serious injuries.

"I really don't think we'll be getting a better chance than this." I pointed out.

I still had no idea what had caused the shockwave, but could sense a presence far up, farther than Willow, which shouldn't have been possible, but somehow was.

"Everyone get moving!" Charles ordered.

Two arrows landed almost simultaneously, past the fallen rocks (where most of the vehicles in the convoy were located). They had canisters connected, which released a gas that, while it cleared fast, it was enough to knock out at least half of the men present, most of them military. Hank and I got on the move then, knocking out as many of the others as we could. Beast (still on the meds that kept him from going blue... mainly because we'd decided he was less likely to be properly remembered like that, rather than blue and furry...) was the first to reach the main vehicle in the convoy, the one holding the cage.

Even in human form Hank was considerably stronger than humans, he forced the door to the back of the van open, and then proceeded to pull out the cage, which was actually more of a box. It was awful. He was looking around the locks, probably trying to decide how good or bad an idea it might be to simply force it open, when an instinct screamed inside of me:

"Beast beware!" I cried out, at the same time I spun around, looking for the threat I knew instinctively was there.

I was right, I turned just in time to see the soldiers who'd ended on the other side of the rocks, they'd managed to half climb them and were pointing weapons at us. I didn't even think about it, fire was suddenly at my finger tips and it rushed from my body to the truck closest to the rocks (and the soldiers) lighting it up. No one was killed, and very few were truly injured, but at least that was enough to get them off our backs.

I was about to turn back towards Hank and the box, when two successive visions took over me:

Hank had just said something but I wasn't paying attention, because all I could see was the grenade rolling across the ground. I was only half conscious of the warning I yelled before turning and leaping towards the nearest truck, seeking protection from the explosion (I might be fire, but I wasn't sure if that would be enough).

The explosion was loud enough to make my ears ring, and I was only half-aware of my sister calling to me through the comms; until the next cry made me freeze, it was Charles calling:

"Erik!"

I jumped to my feet abruptly, and from a second to the next the cement and gravel road beneath my feet disappeared, leaving instead grass and flowers. The very air seemed to be charged with tension, and I could feel it thrumming inside me as I stood on guard, protective (though I wasn't sure who I was protecting exactly). There were several people standing a number of yards away from me, lead by a man in a military uniform, whom I'd never seen before, though I instinctively knew he was a threat. His gun was aimed at me, and before I could fully understand what was going on, he fired.

I staggered, body caught in a rush of pain from a wound that wasn't actually real, from a bullet that hadn't hit me yet (and hopefully never would). It took me several seconds to pull myself back to reality, right on time to hear Hank speak:

"The box has electronic locks, but I'm afraid they might have been damaged in the crash." He was saying. "I don't know how safe it might be for Erik to just force the box open..."

"You'll have to take the risk." I snapped at him. "We're out of time."

I was observing all around, trying to find the origin of the grenade, yet when I saw the man that was pretty much dragging his own body out of the front of the main vehicle in the convoy, I couldn't help but freeze. It was the same man from my second vision, the one who had shot (would shoot) me... the moment he turned in my direction I suddenly realized he was the very man Hakon had warned me about:

"William Stryker..." I breathed out in absolute shock.

"Grenade!" Willow practically shrieked through the comms.

Hank leapt behind the closest vehicle, looking for shelter, but by the time I could move, there was nothing I could do. I also realized, a fraction of a second before the explosion actually reached me, that there was nothing to fear, because I not only had control over fire... I was fire. Heat and flames caused by the grenade rushed past me, never quite touching me. I got a few scrapes from the debris flying around (I wasn't immune to that) but nothing worst than that. I could see the shock in Stryker's eyes before Hank slipped behind him, knocking him out with a hit.

And then, the part I'd completely forgotten about came, Charles screaming:

"Erik!"

We all ran, all the while fearing it might be too late already. The grenade had exploded way too close to the box/cell, cracking it open and sending the pieces tumbling off the road and down the cliff... and that had included Erik himself.

Hank and I reached the edge of the road almost at the same time and peered down, more than a little afraid of what we might find (what had been the point of that vision if I'd only frozen when I should have been doing something to save Erik?!). We didn't find what we'd been expecting, not by long shot; instead we were met first by Charles's fallen chair in the middle of the small space where he'd been sitting, waiting. Charles himself was on the dirt-ground, a few feet away, right at the edge of the cliff, he was using one of his arms to hold himself in place, and the other... with the other he was holding onto an unconscious Erik Lehnsherr. He'd managed to catch him at the last possible moment.

*Thanks to you, Rose.* He whispered into my head. *I saw your vision...*

I couldn't help the smile, the mix of joy and relief. So there had been a point to that vision after all! Even if it wasn't meant for me.

It took little time for Hank to get down the slope and help Charles pull Erik to safety, then the three of them joined me on the road. Debris, unconscious men and vehicles (a number of them crashed and one overturned) were all around us; it was an absolute mess.

"So..." Hank murmured, looking all around us. "What now?"

"Now we all get out of here before the authorities find us." Charles offered.

"Don't forget to erase us from their minds." I told him. "The last thing we need is them coming after us... after the school."

Charles didn't bother pointing out there wasn't actually a school in that moment; he probably knew already that was the next step in my half-baked plan.

"I think I can do one better." Charles offered. "If you let me take what you saw..."

I nodded, beginning to realize what he was planning.

Stryker and his men would be waking up minutes later, convinced they'd just fought and won a battle against a group of rebel mutants, managing to kill them all. They wouldn't be reporting that officially, of course, the convoy was supposed to be there for the prisoner's 'safety' not to fight anyone; they weren't even supposed to be carrying any weapons, as Magneto had been kept drugged and locked up for the journey. The hard part would be explaining to his benefactor that Lehnsherr had not only died en-route, but his body had fallen off the cliff and there was no recovering it; Bolivar really wasn't going to like that...

xXx

I was the one in the room when Erik finally woke up. Mostly for convenience sake. I had no metal on me, except for the bracelet with the rose pendant around my left wrist. It was a gift from my parents (Willow had a similar one, only with a tree), and it carried enough spells to protect me from a great many things, though it needed to be recharged every once in a while... seeing how I wasn't a spellweaver). In any case, I knew instinctively Magneto wouldn't be able to use it against me, so I didn't even think about taking it off.

I knew the moment he woke, could sense the difference in him, but I said not a word. Allowing him to study his surroundings as long as he wanted before opening his eyes.

"Where am I?" He finally asked after a couple of minutes.

"Why ask a question to which you already know the answer?" I asked in return, giggling inside my head at my choice of words.

"Because I must be hallucinating, maybe the drugs that were forced into me." Erik replied sharply. "I cannot possibly be..."

"In Westchester? In Xavier Mansion?" I finished for him, when it didn't look like he would any time soon. "You are."

"I was en-route... somewhere." He murmured, thoughtfully.

"Trask Industries." I clarified. "Yes, we got to you just in time." I winced at the memory. "Things didn't exactly go as planned... but it could have been worse, all things told."

"Who..." His voice broke, until I offered him some ice-chips, then he went on. "Who saved me? Who are you?"

"To answer the second question first, I am Rose Serrure." I told him with a smile. "You might remember me. We met in 62, in Chicago, while you and Charles were recruiting mutants to go against Sebastian Shaw. Mama refused to get involved, for our family's safety."

"You were but a child..." He murmured, seemingly remembering that day.

"And now I'm not." I countered. "Now, as to your other question. You could say that the X-Men got you out... or what's left of them at least."

"X-Men..." He repeated, the shock quite clear on his expression. "Charles... Where's Charles?"

"Either in his office, or with Hank in the lab." I answered honestly. "The suits we wore were more damaged in the fight than expected, Hank's been working on them, seeing what worked and what didn't, in order to improve them."

"I don't remember anything..." Erik admitted, and it was obvious it cost him.

"You wouldn't." I shrugged. "You were quite heavily drugged, I'm afraid, not counting for the freaky ice-box-thing you were locked in. Hank insisted on keeping you unconscious until your system was clear of the drugs completely. Both the ones they gave you, and the ones he had to give you to counter the effects of the extremely low temperature on your body. The rescue actually took place five days ago."

"How did you know...?" He couldn't seem to find the right words to finish the question, but I got the idea anyway.

"You could say I have contacts in high places." I said simply, not wanting to give too much away, just in case. "The original idea was to go, get you out and leave without any of the humans knowing what had happened. That didn't exactly work out... but still, we got you, which is what matters." I thought it over before adding. "You should also probably know that you're dead. Legally, I mean. It was in the papers two days ago."

I passed a copy of the New York Times to him. There, near the bottom of the page was the announcement that Erik Lehnsherr, the mutant known as Magneto, one of those responsible for President Kennedy's assassination was dead. The official version was that he'd been in a tragic accident while being transported to a different prison (nevermind that he was the only loss...).

"I didn't kill Kennedy." He almost blurted out.

"I know." I nodded, probably more calmly than he was expecting.

"Where's Charles?" His focus did a complete 180° rather abruptly (not like I wasn't expecting it, but still). "Why are you here and not him?"

"He stayed with you for the last five days." I informed him softly. "It took a lot to make sure he ate, showered and slept regularly. When he realized you were approaching consciousness he decided to leave, give you your space. At the same time we didn't think it'd be a good idea for you to wake up completely alone, especially considering what you might have last experienced before becoming unconscious. So here I am."

"So what? You drew the short stick?"

A snort of laughter actually escaped me at that. I could see what looked like the beginning of a smile in a corner of his lips, and for a moment I picture the man he'd been, the man Charles had loved, still loved...

"Not at all." I assured him. "I volunteered. So, any questions you would like to ask? If it's about food and drink, you can have water once you're done with this chips and I'm sure you won't react negatively to it. You'll have to wait a little longer for the food I'm afraid. Doctor's orders... We can also call Charles if you prefer..."

"Does he even want to see me?" He answered, and there was a hint of... of grief, of loss, beneath the initial coldness of his words.

"Why wouldn't he?" I was honestly puzzled by his belief.

"I don't understand why he came at all!" He went on, voice getting harder and louder as he went on. "After almost a decade! He didn't care all those years! Why now?!"

The whole room was vibrating, a few metal objects flying every which way, but I ignored all that, standing beside his bed and looking straight into his eyes.

"If you think he doesn't care, you don't know Charles Xavier at all." I hissed at him, lacing my voice with what power I could.

Erik actually blinked at me in surprise.

"Your eyes..." He murmured in explanation. "They looked..."

"Freaky?" I asked with a half-smirk.

"Beautiful." He said in return.

I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes. I'd known beforehand that he seemed to have something of a fixation for the more visible mutations (I'd seen what he'd told Raven/Mystique at one point), and the first thing he'd told Hank after his own change...

"Yeah well, my eyes aren't what you should be focusing on." I retorted, dropping back onto my chair. "Do you honestly believe Charles doesn't care?"

"Why didn't he help before now?" He insisted.

"You obviously have no idea how hard it was to get to you when we did." I muttered. "I cannot even imagine how we could have ever gotten you out of the Pentagon..."

"So you did know where I was!" He sounded accusing as he said that. "You knew and you did nothing at all?!"

"Oh stars, are you listening to yourself?" I snapped. "Are you listening to me at all? There was nothing we could do before! We almost got killed as it was. Charles almost got killed saving your life five days ago and..."

"That's enough."

I broke off instantly, as Charles's voice rang through the room.

Both Erik and I turned towards the door instantly, to find him there, on his chair, looking at us both with a mix of disapproval and... grief.

"Charles..." I began, somewhat sheepish.

"It's alright darling." He assured me. "I know you're only trying to defend me. But I'm a big boy, I can fight my own battles."

"I've never doubted that." I assured him.

"If you would be so kind as to give us some privacy, my dear." Charles went on, turning his focus towards Erik. "I think Erik and I need to talk."

"Of course." I nodded immediately, picking my sweater and book from where they'd fallen off my lap and rushing to the door. "If you need me, just call."

"I will." He assured me.

I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. Whatever was coming between those two it most likely wouldn't be pretty, however, it was necessary... I just hoped the whole thing wouldn't end with Erik striding out the door in some righteous fury and the rest of us left to pick up the pieces... again. It was amazing how those two could be so perfect for each other, and yet they kept hurting each other over and over again... it was disheartening in a sense. I could only hope things would be better this time around. Otherwise I had no idea what we would do.

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

Not a word was said by either mutant as the brown-eyed, mahogany-haired twenty-three year old gifted left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. Even after she was gone, the two of them remained on their spots: Charles Xavier on his wheelchair, Erik Lehnsherr half-sitting, half-laying on the bed, looking at each other.

"Good to see you awake." Charles mumbled eventually. "We were beginning to worry."

"Is it?" Erik inquired in return, brow arched. "Wasn't sure, seeing how you weren't here when I woke; instead you left your student. Also, you could have woken me any time..."

"Rose isn't my student, she never has been." Charles clarified. "And considering how far you were willing to go in Cuba in order to keep me out of your head... I decided it was better not to try that. It's also why I wasn't here when you woke."

"What kind of explanation is that?" Erik demanded.

"The only there is!" Charles ran a hand through his hair, fighting to find the right words; it could be so hard, especially when he wasn't touching the minds of those he talked to. It made him feel... off, disconnected. "You might not be able to grasp this Erik, but I'm a telepath, I've been a telepath for most of my life! Touching other people's minds, reading surface thoughts... it's to me like any other sense, like you reaching for anything metal or magnetic. Holding back, keeping to myself, that's harder..." He shook his head. "Seeing how the last time I tried to connect to you you chose to put on Shaw's helmet, which feels like a void of death and nothingness to my telepathy, I decided it was better not to court temptation."

Erik seemed to have no words for that and the two mutants fell into a tense silence.

"I didn't kill Kennedy." Erik said, apropos of nothing.

"I know." Charles breathed out, closing his eyes briefly.

"If you know why did you let them put me in that hellhole!" Erik finally snapped. "I know you're mad at me, but I didn't think you would go so far as to let the humans imprison me for a crime you knew all along I didn't commit!"

"I didn't." Charles's words, quiet and so full of grief, took the wind out of Erik's sails.

"What...?" He asked, somewhat confused.

"I didn't know all along." The telepath clarified. "For years I believed, like the rest of the country, that you had killed Kennedy that day."

"What changed?" The master of magnetism couldn't help but be curious.

"Rose." Charles admitted quietly. "I don't know if I ever told you, but she doesn't only have a gift with fire, she's also cognitive."

"She can see the future!" Erik exclaimed, surprised.

"And the past." Charles added. "She saw some of what happened that day in Dallas. Enough to confirm rumors she'd received before. Obviously her word wouldn't be enough to release you, but we spent the last several weeks getting our hands on everything that might be considered proof: photos, grainy videos, official statements, anything... the plan was to contact a lawyer we could trust and file an appeal in your favor." He shook his head. "Of course all that was for naught once we learned that you were being moved out of the Pentagon and sent to Trask Industries. So we decided to go and get you before it was too late." And they'd almost failed. "And so here we are."

"I never actually knew who killed Kennedy." Erik admitted.

"A man known as the Winter Soldier. No one knows his real name, DOB, or anything at all. In fact, most of those who even know the name believe him to be nothing more than a legend. Sia Serrure, Rose's aunt has been trying to track him down for nearly a decade..."

"What for...?" Erik began, then shook his head, that was none of his business. "So you saved me from Trask. I suppose I should thank you for that. Yet I gotta ask, why save me when you couldn't be bothered to help anyone else?"

"What?" Charles wasn't expecting that.

"What of all the people you left to their luck? All that were taken by Trask first... you left them to fend for themselves, to die alone. Just like you left me to rot in the pentagon for nine years!"

"I wasn't the one who walked away!" The younger mutant simply couldn't hold himself back anymore, as all the pain in his heart came spilling out. "You abandoned me! You took her away and you abandoned me!"

"Angel, Azazel, Emma, Banshee..." Erik enlisted with a quiet and condemning tone. "Mutants brothers ans sisters. All dead! Countless others, experimented on, butchered! Where were you Charles?! We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding?!" He shook his head, loathing clear on his expression. "You abandoned us all!"

"Where was I?!" Charles snarled back. "I would ask where you were, but we both know the answer to that! As for where I was, I was right with them. Emma, Azazel, I was right with them as they died... and I don't even know why! They weren't my people, yet in their last hour, they reached for me. And I couldn't leave them alone, so I stayed with them, gave them what comfort I could. I died with them! Over and over again, until I couldn't do it anymore!"

What followed wasn't planned, not at all (if it had been up to Charles he'd have never done it), yet in the end it happened all the same. A rush of memories from Charles, so strong in that moment he simply couldn't hold it back, Erik witnessed it all as if he'd been right there:

He saw Charles talking to the air... except it wasn't the air, but Emma he was talking to, keeping her company psychically in her last moments; a meeting that ended with Charles panting and groaning in pain. He also realized Emma hadn't been the first, nor was she the last. Hank was worried about him, but Charles refused to give up. He watched Charles sitting on his chair, silent as he watched first Alex and then Sean leave, drafted; and then even more of his older students, and his teachers; until the last students left and the school officially closed. He witnessed Hank giving Charles the first serum to help with his legs, the effect it had on his telepathy; how hard it all was for him, yet the Professor refused to give up. He kept holding on, onto his hope, his ideals, onto Erik himself... until the effort made him nearly suicidal. Then a new serum was created, and Charles exchanged his telepathy for his legs.

He didn't get to see much of the years Charles had spent under the effects of the serum (and all the alcohol and various drugs he'd consumed too), instead the memories seemed to jump straight to the day Rose had appeared at the mansion. She hadn't been the only one, but she was the one that brought about the greatest change, as she prodded and pushed in turns until eventually Charles gave up the serum, accepted his paralysis and his telepathy back. And then the day came when they decided they needed to help Erik...

"Why...?" Erik's hoarse voice broke the spell caused by the rush of memories.

Charles just blinked at his old friend, not understanding the question.

"Why didn't you give up on me?" Erik practically demanded.

"Oh my friend..." Charles wasn't sure if it was the memories, Erik's tone, or the way he could feel their minds beginning to touch, a contact Erik was initiating, even if he hadn't realized it just yet. "I couldn't... I could never give up on you... You are... you are everything to me Erik... I..."

No more words were said, they weren't needed, from a moment to the next Erik had dropped to his knees, pulled the telepath into his arms and then proceeded to kiss them like he'd never kissed another person before... like Charles had never been kissed before.

It was an end and a beginning, it was a whole new world.

Of course a kiss (or a dozen) would never be enough to make everything right, but it was a start, a damn good start, as far as the two mutants were concerned.

Eventually they had to separate and make themselves at least somewhat decent, particularly when thoughts were directed Charles's way: dinner was ready. Neither of them said a word about it as Erik simply fell into step beside Charles, both of them moving down the hall in the direction of the kitchen (with their small numbers it was still possible for them all to eat there, and they all seemed to prefer it over the huge dinning hall).

They arrived to the sound of raucous laughter, which hit a too high pitch suddenly, followed by crystal breaking.

"Hey!" A female voice called, though still in good humor. "At this rate we won't have enough glasses for all of us!"

There were some muffled apologies, followed by the sound of glass being swept. Charles made to roll himself fully into the kitchen, only to stop when he realized his companion had frozen completely on the entrance. He needed only a second to realize what (or rather who) Erik was looking at, and thus the source of the shock.

"Ah, right..." He mumbled, half wanting to face-palm, in the rush of emotion he'd completely forgotten to warn Erik about that.

"Banshee..." Erik gasped, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"The one and only." Sean deadpanned with a half-smirk. "Though I do still prefer Sean. Banshee is more of a code-name..."

"But... you're dead." Erik half-babbled. "Emma said..." He broke off abruptly, turning towards Charles. "How? Is anyone else alive? Azazel..."

"Erik... Erik..." Charles called, trying to sooth him. "I'm afraid I cannot help you. Your people... I couldn't do anything for them. I didn't actually do anything for Sean either!"

"Then how...?" Erik insisted.

"Mayor Serrure." Sean informed him, then thought it over. "Well, I think it's actually Lt. Colonel nowadays..." He shook his head. "Anyway, he was my superior during my last few months in 'Nam. When that landmine went off a little too close to me and caused my injury... I know he received orders to have me shipped off with Stryker for some project concerning Trask Industries. He refused. Got into a hell of an argument over it, actually. Next thing I know I'm being put on a chopper and there's a man who tells me I'm being flown to France, then Britain, and that a group of Vets would be receiving me, making sure my recovery would go just fine... of course, no one thought to point out that the vets in question were none others than the Howling Commandos!"

"Did you know they never call themselves that?" Rose offered unexpectedly. "Only outsiders use that name. As far as they're concerned they're just soldiers..."

"Who fought side by side with Captain America!" Sean cried out.

It was until then, as Sean turned to look at the mahogany haired young woman, all the while gesturing wildly, the same girl who'd been there when Erik first woke up, that the master of magnetism actually noticed the way the redhead moved, how he favored one leg... it was the injury that had caused him to be discharged, that should have sent him straight into Trasks's claws, and yet instead... instead he'd had someone fight tooth and nail for him, someone with the backing of the Howling Commandos!

"Serrure?" He asked unexpectedly, suddenly connecting the surname.

"My older brother." Rose nodded at him. "He joined the army years ago, was shipped off to Vietnam at some point. He's spent the last five years doing everything in his power to make sure all mutant soldiers get back home, especially after being discharged."

"The Howling Commandos?" He still didn't see the connection.

"You know already my family served during WWII." Rose elaborated. "Mama as a nurse, Papa and Aunt Sia with the SSR. They refused to send Hakon to boarding-school or some refuge, so he was with them in the camps. He was seven or eight when the Commandos were formed; from what he's told me, they all treated him like a kid brother. It was there he got it into his head to one day join the army. He wanted to be a hero, just like them..."

And he was, in more ways than most would ever know. Not only was he fighting a war, with many other soldiers... but everything he'd been doing since making Mayor, to keep mutant soldiers safe... none of them would ever forget him, his dedication.

"I think Hakon knew he'd need help, keeping the soldiers off TIs hands, and the Commandos, being most of them too old to fight a war anymore, were probably a bit bored." And they were all heroes, every single one of them, the kind who didn't care what was in a person's genes, how different or alike to others they might look, they'd always help everyone equally.

"How many...?" Erik began, not quite able to finish the question.

No one truly needed him to. How many lives had been saved? How many brothers and sisters he'd believed dead actually lived still? Even if Hakon hadn't been able to save Erik's Brotherhood in the end, he'd saved so many others, for no special reason other than believing it was the right thing to do. Why was it that every time he thought he'd finally be proven right, the exact opposite happened? Charles hadn't given up on him, not really, not even when his own sanity, his very life had been at stake; and then to learn that a group of humans, of baselines, were working on keeping mutant soldiers safe from those who would turn them into lab-rats...

Then, as if they (particularly Erik) hadn't had enough shocks already, the last inhabitant of the mansion stepped into the kitchen right then. Chocolate brown eyes, bright auburn hair falling in waves, framing her oval face, peach skin, she was wearing a pale-yellow, somewhat gauzy top, light-blue jeans (the knees worn and marked with dirt and stains from her gardening) and boots.

Willow's eyes widened as she laid them on Erik, and those in the know (pretty much everyone except Sean) wondered if she recognized him; if some old memory deep inside her could connect the mutant before her to the man she knew in Ukraine so many years prior...

"Hello," She greeted him very softly. "I am Willow Serrure..."

"You..." Erik's mouth felt oddly dry as he spoke. "You look so much like... but it cannot be... it's like seeing a ghost..." He didn't notice he was pretty much babbling, nor did he realize he was actually talking in Romany, a language he'd believed forgotten for the longest time. "Magda..."

"My name is Willow." The young woman repeated as he went to stand before him. "It's the name my sister gave me, when she saved my life from the fire... when we became family..."

"Fire...?" Erik repeated, so low hardly anyone could truly hear him.

For all answer the girl took his hand and pressed it to her left temple, before dragging it down softly, letting his fingers trace each of her scars, all the way to the back of her shoulder-blade.

"Rose gave me the name Willow." She went on. "But before that I had a different one. One my Dai and Dadro gave me... they named me Anya, Anya Eisenhardt..."

She didn't get the chance to say more, suddenly there were arms around her, enfolding her like they hadn't in so long, and father and daughter were reduced to nonverbal expressions as they held on to what they believed to have lost a lifetime ago...

Chapter Text

Bright Pink Rose

Sometimes a 'Thank You' may mean more than any other hundred words...

It wasn't easy to explain to Erik how exactly his daughter had been alive all along, particularly how and why he hadn't known...

"It's not like it was our fault!" I snapped eventually.

"What?" Erik certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"Will and I, we barely got out of the hostel before it collapsed." I explained. "We could hear the yelling at the front, but didn't really understand much of what everyone was yelling. And then we could all sense the power rumbling beneath the earth. We had to flee. Papa and Hakon went back, after leaving us in a hotel in the closest town, they found nothing but ruins and dead bodies. We had no way of knowing if you or your wife had survived at all, if you were among the dead... who had even caused the destruction..." I shook my head at the memory. "By the end of the day my parents got papers for Willow, passed her as my twin, and then we went back home." A sigh escaped me. "It's not like we didn't try to find you... we just had no idea how to. Charles offered to see into her memories, to get an image of you, but Willow was just recovering from the trauma and Mama didn't want to risk making it worse."

"Charles..." Erik repeated, turning sharp eyes toward the telepath. "You never told me."

"Like Rose already told you, I didn't know." Charles explained. "I knew Rose and Willow when they were little girls, and while I knew they weren't really twins, and how Will had joined the Serrure family, it wasn't something I pondered much on. Then I met you, and while I did see some of your memories about Magda and your daughter... you never wanted to talk about them and I didn't want to intrude in what was obviously a painful part of your past. I didn't make a connection until... well, I never made it, really." He shrugged. "When Rose was helping me take back control over my telepathy we ended sharing a lot of memories; some of them happened to be yours. Her own mind connected the pieces, this was shortly after we began looking for a way to free you."

Erik seemed to have no words to say to that. I could only imagine what he must be thinking, how it almost seemed like the universe had conspired against him, keeping him from his daughter... then again, the daughter he believed to have died at five was alive, healthy, happy, what else could any parent ask for?

xXx

With some help from one of Hakon's contacts we got papers for Erik (and I wasn't sure what I was supposed to think about the fact that my brother, a military man with a degree in law, knew a forger... the kind who made good forgeries too). In any case, it was how Max Eisenhardt, German immigrant, came to be. Willow and I also got new papers, in the names of Anya and Alfdis Eisenhardt. This was done for a variety of reasons. First, I knew that as an X-Woman I would be involved in a lot of stuff, and it would be probably better for everyone if I wasn't connected to the Serrures, and especially the Starks. The last one became particularly important when I learnt what exactly had happened in the last meeting between Charles and Uncle Howard.

It seemed that Charles had gone to his old family friend looking for help in opening the school. He believed that with the backing of Howard, and everything his name implied, it would make things go faster, it might also make things safer for the students. Howard not only had refused to take part in the endeavor; according to Charles he'd also made some veiled negative comments regarding gifted people. He'd even mentioned Cuba in vague terms, and how dangerous it was for people with inhuman abilities to be out and about without 'proper supervision'.

I couldn't quite believe it when I heard, all that... it just didn't sound like the Uncle Howard I knew. The man who'd known from the very beginning how different everyone in our family was, who said those differences made us special. The man who'd ended with frostbite courtesy of Hakon more than once (always on accident, of course), and every single time laughed it up as an accident and kept reassuring Hakon that he was alright and everything was just fine...

"Maybe he's like that with you because you're family..." Hank offered.

"It's entirely possible that he used to believe that, but the whole thing with Shaw and the near start of WWIII made him nervous... afraid, of what might have happened, if he hadn't been stopped." Charles offered in a soothing tone.

"It's no excuse." Erik muttered. "When judging a man you must always look at how he treats those he sees as less, rather than the ones he might consider equals... if his words regarding strangers express what he truly feels... what happens when he no longer sees Rose as family? When he turns against her? Against anyone else?"

It hurt to even consider that, for me Howard Stark would always be my uncle, the man who'd make funny faces at me, who told me that if he could go from the poor boy growing on the lower east side of Manhattan to an industrial genius and millionaire, founder of his own company, I could do anything I set my mind to; it hurt to think that one day he might see me as a freak, as dangerous... as Other.

Still, it was partly because of that, partly because I wanted to keep our family out of whatever trouble we might get into (if the government ever found out that Max Eisenhardt was actually Erik Lehnsherr it really wouldn't be good...), and partly because Anya wanted to reclaim even a small part of her past and I refused to have her be anything but my sister... and so we became Anya and Alfdis Eisenhardt (Erik didn't mind suddenly having two daughters, rather than just one... we asked him).

He wasn't too parental towards us, in the end. He recognized the fact that both of us, even Anya, had had other parents growing up, and that they'd been good. Still, he wanted to be part of his child's life, and had recognized that that life included me. So there we were.

Christmas came, then New Year, and in early January we all began talking about the possibility of reopening the Institute. Charles didn't seem surprised at all...

"I think a part of me knew this was coming, ever since I found you and your sister sitting in my parlor, last July." He admitted at some point.

Sean signed up right away, as did Hank. Sean was also a great help, getting in touch with the other veterans whom Hakon and the Commandos had helped upon returning from Vietnam. Not all were interested in the Institute, but some agreed to consider, if not teaching formally, at least helping out here and there; and some had relatives they thought would benefit from enrolling in such a school.

Once we got a long enough list of prospective students we began working on new certifications and accreditation to make sure everything would be legal. It was a lot of work, long days and late nights... it also didn't help when, after one such late night, I woke everyone hours before dawn with my screams.

I came to slowly, ignoring the high-flames across the room, and eventually realizing that I wasn't alone. Everyone was there. Sean and Erik didn't seem to quite know what to think of it all, and even Hank kept his distance; but Anya was sitting on the bed on one side of me, with Charles on his chair, as close to the other side as he could.

"Rose?" While legally my name was Alfdis, he still called me that; Chaos-Rose, had become my code-name officially.

"We need to get to Paris." I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"What...?" Sean was confused by that.

"The Paris Peace Accords..." I began, trying to find the right words to express how important it all was, without losing myself in the awful memories.

"That's in two days," Hank began, then revised. "Well, tomorrow actually..."

"We need to get there." I nodded emphatically.

"Why?" Erik was the one to voice the question I was sure everyone must be thinking.

"We need to stop Raven." I tried to communicate an apology to Charles's silently even as I began explaining. "She will be there... to kill Bolivar Trask."

"Trask..." Erik parroted. "Bolivar Trask, of Trask Industries?!"

"Yes, that Trask." I nodded dismissively, that wasn't the point! "Stryker will be there too, along with a lot of other military from all over the world. If Mystique succeeds in killing Trask... it will not be good."

"What did you see, exactly?" Charles asked, somewhat pointedly.

"I saw her succeed." I stared straight into his blue eyes as I said that, though refusing to let him into my head, to see anything himself. "If she does... Stryker will take over the operation, He will use her to finish a project Trask Industries has been trying to finish for years... trying and failing. Machines, called Sentinels... they will use them to hunt down those who're different. First mutants, then other gifted... anyone they consider as a risk... it'll be the end of the world."

I finally had an idea of what exactly might have caused Magneto to go back to being Erik and pronounce those fateful words, at the end of my longest vision... a part of me wished I'd never known. I had a feeling I'd be getting nightmares for weeks, possibly months.

"We'll go to Paris." Anya agreed with me. "We'll stop Raven..."

"Why stop her?" Erik's question made us all freeze.

"Erik..." Charles began, a hint of warning in his voice.

Erik either didn't hear it, or just chose to ignore it as he went on.

"Trask and his company are a threat to Raven, to me, to your school, and to every single mutant in this world Charles." Erik pointed out seriously. "You know that as well as I. Why not let Raven do what she wishes and just be there to make sure they don't capture her?"

"And make ourselves into criminals for aiding and abetting a killer?" Hank demanded.

"It will not end with Trask." I said, tiredly. "You will let her kill him, and then what? You'll kill Stryker too?"

"If he becomes a threat, of course." Erik replied, unapologetically.

"He's already a threat." Sean pointed out. "He loathes anyone different."

"That's not my point." I pressed on. "You will kill Trask and then Stryker... and when someone else takes their place, you will want to kill them too. And so on and so forth, and it will never end! This trail of death, of blood will never end!"

"They're humans, they hate us, they will destroy us if they get the chance!" Erik almost snapped. "We need to look out for our own."

It looked like Charles was about to retort, it was the same argument they always had... yet before he could, someone else intervened.

"Dadro I'm human!"

That froze everyone, especially Erik. No one could begin to imagine what he was thinking in that moment, exactly. Had he truly forgotten that Anya was human rather than a mutant? Did he see her as some kind of exception? Or had he simply become so used to the whole 'humans vs. mutants' spiel that he only argued the point for the sake of it? What did he believe in anymore? Erik Lehnsherr/Max Eisenhardt was a mutant who'd been wronged by both humans and mutants, who'd been helped by both humans and mutants; who held onto a belief of 'Us and Them' and had for so long it was hard to tell if he remembered why he supported that anymore. Would Anya's return into his life make him change his beliefs? Or would he just choose to turn his back on her in the end? Or worse even, would he choose to continue the extreme ideology, while still holding onto her, making either set of beliefs completely pointless?

xXx

Thankfully, Charles had access to a private plane, because I have no idea how we'd have gotten to Paris in time otherwise.

The 'mission' seemed a tad anti-climatic actually, especially if we compared it to Erik's rescue a little over a month before. With some trickery and fast talking, Anya and I had managed to get her, Charles, Erik and myself in (Sean and Hank were staying in the car, as they were our backup). Then Charles made sure that no one who saw us would be able to identify us afterwards, even as he tracked down Raven's presence (being careful to not quite touch her mind). We found her, impersonating a Vietnamese high-ranking military man, on the way to a meeting. While we were trying to think of a way to lure her to where we were waiting Erik simply slipped out of the room, and pulled her inside (a hand of her his/her mouth to stop any calls for help).

Mystique fought like hell against the hold, until she laid eyes on Charles, the shock was great enough she dropped the disguise completely.

"Spirits!" Anya exclaimed the moment she saw her.

For a moment it looked like Raven would say something biting, probably thinking that Anya was either afraid or disgusted by her appearance; I realized then that Raven hadn't recognized us (then again, we hadn't seen each other in more than a decade...).

"Have you no shame Auntie Raven?" Anya finished right then.

The question threw the shape-shifter for a loop.

"Auntie...?" She repeated, not quite getting it.

"She's Willow, I'm Rose." I offered, raising a hand to call her attention to me. "Though we go by Anya and Alfdis nowadays..."

"Rosie?!" She was well and truly shocked by that point. "What the hell are all of you doing here?! No, never mind. I don't have time for this, I have things to do..."

"Like killing Bolivar Trask?" Erik finished for her.

"We cannot let you do that Raven." Charles added.

Erik and I both rolled our eyes at that; yeah, because Raven was just going to accept that...

"You cannot stop me Charles!" She practically snarled at her adoptive brother. "I've been hunting the bastard down for years! I've gotten this far, and I'm not stopping now. I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna make him pay! For Azazel, and Angel, and Emma, and all the others whose lives he's destroyed and..."

"And if you kill him you'll destroy yourself, and every other mutant on the planet." Erik told him rather bluntly.

"What?!" Raven wasn't expecting that.

"Much as I'd usually agree with you, not this time Mystique." Magneto stated in his most authoritative tone.

"Who are you to give me orders, Magneto?!" Raven retorted. "I do not follow you, not anymore. Ten years ago you left us, what few of us were left, to protect one man, one single mutant, just because he was the president. I told you it was a mistake, I told you that if you succeeded it would make no difference in the long run, and if you failed it would be the ruin of the Brotherhood. You didn't care. Well, guess what? I was right!"

"This isn't about orders." Anya intervened. "This is about safety, your own and that of every living being, mutant or not, on this planet." She stared straight at Mystique, unflinchingly even when golden eyes bore at her. "Rose has seen what will happen if you try to kill Trask today... it will not be good. Not for you, and not for the rest of the world."

"You lie!" Mystique hissed. "You're saying that just to make me stop."

"If it were a matter of making you stop, we'd have forced you already." Erik drawled.

"Raven, please..." Charles murmured. "Please, come home..."

"I don't have a home!" Raven almost screeched.

"Guys, we need to get out soon, before someone finds us here... it won't be pretty if they do." Anya said unexpectedly, after having gone to peek through the door, to make sure we hadn't been discovered just yet.

It looked like Charles was about to try and beg... when a metallic object, which looked like a paperweight or something, floated behind Raven, before hitting her on the back of the head, knocking her out.

"There, we can take her now." Erik announced.

"You do know she's gonna be furious with you when she wakes up, right?" I asked him, disbelief coloring my tone.

"What's new about that?" The master of magnetism shrugged. "At least she'll be alive and free to do so; and so will the rest of us."

In the end Charles either agreed with him or decided there simply was no point in arguing further. Erik hefted the unconscious Raven over his shoulder and we slipped out of the room as silently as we could. We were on our way to the stairs, when a voice coming from inside one of the rooms we were passing by, called my attention:

"Hello, thank you for coming." It was Bolivar Trask, he was inside that room. "Congratulations on winning this war..."

In that moment I fancied I could see the various paths the future could take, extending before me. I wasn't actually having any visions, it was just something that hit me right then and there. In most of them I did nothing, kept walking, following Charles, Erik and Anya; we left the Hotel Royal, Paris, went back to Westchester and prepared to open the school, ready to react to what might come our way... in the end I took the one path I couldn't begin to imagine where it might lead; because I knew that, insane as it might be, it was the right thing to do.

"...You'll need a new weapon for this war." Trask went on inside. "I call them Sentinels, named after the ancient guardians that stood at the gates of the Citadel..."

I blocked out his voice as he went on enlisting all the characteristics of the awful machines, all the while fighting to keep the memories of my own visions, what they'd look like, what they'd do, from overwhelming me. I tried to focus on something else, anything else, and then my eyes laid on the file on Charles's lap. Even without an actual vision, I suddenly knew what was inside it, and with that knowledge a plan solidified in my mind.

Before Charles could realize what I was doing and even begin to think about stopping me I picked the file from his lap, spun around, opened both of the white doors before me and strode inside the room like I owned the place.

Bolivar Trask broke off in the middle of saying something about the targeting system for the mutant x-gene and how there would be no civilian casualties... I could have snorted. He had no idea... in the end I didn't. I took a deep breath, forced myself to focus on exuding as much power and authority as I could (I remembered what Uncle Howard had told me once, the first time I'd had to give a lecture for credits in college, he'd told me that as long as I believed I had power, that I had authority... the people I was facing would believe it too... so I told myself to hold onto that); I sent a mental message to Charles for them all not to interfere (and to take off if something went wrong), I would be alright.

"Who are you?" William Stryker demanded.

"My name is Rose." I answered soft, but strong. "Some people call me Rose of Chaos..."

"That's a mutant name..." Stryker began.

"Is it?" I challenged, turning to look at the small device in Trask's hand. "I think your little piece of technology might disagree." I shook my head, before turning back to the others in the room, I switched to Vietnamese automatically (and wasn't that an amazing coincidence, me knowing the language at all... though to be perfectly honest, the only reason I did was because at some point during my studies I'd decided I wanted to learn a language my parents didn't already know, and Vietnamese was the first I saw). "Gentlemen, you have my most sincere apologies for barging into what I'm sure was meant to be a private meeting, without an invitation; but it is my belief that you should know the kind of man you're dealing with, before putting your nation at risk." That certainly called everyone's attention. "Mr. Trask would have you believe he's a man who's solely interested in the survival of humanity as a whole; nothing could be farther from the truth."

"You cannot tell these people that mutants don't exist!" Stryker snapped.

"I will not deny the existence of people who are different." I retorted calmly. "But then again, that's always been the case. After all, we're not all blonde, or blue eyed, or fair skinned, are we?" I ignored his attempts to interrupt me again. "I also won't deny that there are individuals around the world who are different in other ways, who hold gifts not many might be able to understand. However, it is untrue that they are the enemy, yours or mine, or anyone else's at all." As I got into the flow of things I couldn't help but relax, I believed in what I was speaking of, and that helped too. "There is both good and evil in this world, there always has been, and I dare say there always will be. And that's true for both humans and gifted. Most people with 'abilities' go on living normal lives, hardly using them at all, never hurting anyone. It is true some might try something, but then again, there are also humans who commit crimes, in the end it's exactly the same." I thought of something else then. "I know not if you're aware of this, but among the many brave soldiers, both American and Vietnamese, there are some who are indeed gifted; who over the war have used their gifts to survive themselves and help their comrades do the same, to bring honor to their respective countries... Humans and mutants are more alike than they're different, that is the truth. It's a truth that Bolivar Trask would deny you, in an attempt to further his own objectives."

"And what's that?" Someone asked abruptly.

Trask hadn't said anything at all, hadn't tried to interrupt me again, and I wasn't actually sure if that was because he didn't know Vietnamese, and as such had no idea what I was saying exactly; or if Charles had chosen to 'give me a hand' so-to-speak; I didn't stop to wonder about it.

"Research and experimentation..." With a flick of my wrist I sent the file flying, the contents going every which way across the table. "On mutants."

Gasps were soon heard all across the room as the Vietnamese contingent looked at the files, especially the pictures included, pictures of every mutant Trask and his company had captured and experimented on over the years. There were some gruesome pictures, which accounted for the reactions people were having; and while some certainly focused some on the fact that one of them had a tail, another wings, and other things; most of the whispers I heard around me were regarding the monstrous things that had been done to them.

"Are you sure of this Ma'am?" The one who looked like he might be the leader of the group asked, soberly.

"I'm afraid so, sir." I nodded, allowing the grief I myself felt at the tragedy to tint my voice. "Trask has captured, experimented on and killed more than a dozen mutants over the last five years (and that was only officially, since the company hadn't existed before then). And those are just the ones we know of. If you agree to support him, his plan for these Sentinels, it will only be a matter of time before some of your own citizens begin to disappear. And not just yours, but innocents from every country, every city in the world... Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, children; all innocent; all who've done nothing except being born different. Since when has that been a crime? I thought we'd gotten past all that, when WWII ended."

Perhaps bringing WWII up was a bit much, but I just couldn't help myself; I wasn't sure if it was Erik's influence or my parent's past, I just couldn't help but draw the parallels, it was staggering, and also worrying...

"What about those... mutants, that might wish humans harm?" One of the others called, worried.

"Like I said before, you already have gifted serving your country." I pointed out. "It's up to you that they continue doing it, with your blessing, and their own safety." I let out a breath. "I will not tell you how to lead your own country gentlemen. I only came in here to make sure you wouldn't be conned by this man, that you wouldn't make a mistake that would end up costing so many innocent lives... we just ended a war, shouldn't we be focusing on peace, rather than on starting yet another one?"

I hesitated for a second, not quite sure what I should do. I'd gotten through the whole thing almost solely on adrenaline, and as it ran its course I couldn't help but doubt myself. Had I done the right thing? Had I done enough? And how could I leave without making it seem like I was running away and therefore ruin everything I might have achieved...?

I didn't get the chance to think about it for long, the sound of a gun cocking echoed across the room. I reacted instinctively, spinning around and throwing up a hand, enveloped in fire. The nodes of the stun-gun hit the fire, never quite touching my skin, leaving me unscathed. It also had the effect of revealing one of my powers to everyone in the room, there were a few gasps, though I couldn't detect any serious fear, mostly... mostly I could sense fascination. (Also, revealing myself as gifted had the additional effect of making it seem like Trask's little device was faulty).

*Sorry.* Charles apologized in my head. *I let them go in order to talk to you, let you know that the American military is coming.*

*It's alright.* I assured him. *No harm, no foul.*

"Very well gentlemen, I think I've overstayed my welcome." I announced. "I'll leave you to decide what you do with what you've learned today. I trust you'll do what's best for all of your people." I decided against making any special emphasis on 'all'. "Congratulations on peace."

And with nothing further to say, I walked right out of the room. Trask and Stryker looked torn for a moment, though they were soon after me (probably deciding that the Vietnamese were a lost cause, and they'd rather know what exactly I'd told them...).

"You!" Trask yelled at me, furious.

"I have a name." I retorted, turning to face him. "Though that's neither here nor there." Behind them I could see the approaching Americans, and in the last moment decided to leave them with a parting shot. "Now gentlemen, I really need to take my leave."

"You won't be leaving until we've spoken to you." Stryker hissed.

"Oh, but I'm afraid there's no time for that, Mayor." I shook my head almost patronizingly, feeling a sense of satisfaction fill me. "See, you're about to be too busy to talk to me, or even to Mr. Trask there beside you. I'm sure your superiors are quite interested in knowing what you were doing in a meeting with the Communist leaders..."

With that I turned around the corner, right as some American military reached the two men, then I was running down the hall, only stopping when I heard Charles's call in my head, slipping through a door that lead down the stairs (Charles and the others had gone ahead, down the single elevator), they were waiting me just outside the side-door, the one closest to the car.

"What the hell was that?" Erik demanded the moment I reached them.

"I honestly have no idea." I admitted, unable to keep myself from sagging as my mind registered that it was over and I was safe.

"What she did was a good thing." Charles told him quietly. "The Communist leaders listened to her, truly. They also felt disgusted by what they saw in TIs files... right now they're more likely to support mutants than to turn against them."

"Even with all they've done, even knowing what could have happened, you still insist on that ridiculous dream of integration?" Erik practically hissed.

"It's not ridiculous!" Charles and Anya defended at the same time.

A look at his daughter seemed to be enough to shut Erik up. Though the fact that the argument had even come up at all made me feel like it wasn't over just yet; and there was quite a chance things would get worse before they could get better (if they ever got better).

In the end we knew we couldn't just stay on the street, there were too many civilians around, and the military inside... so we got inside the car and drove away.

xXx

We didn't actually leave Paris that day. Right as we were arriving to the airport, one of the men there informed Charles he had a message, from the CIA. While after Cuba Moira had made sure that there would be no information on him or the children (or Erik) left, and then Charles himself had made sure she would know nothing; they still had him on file as an 'expert on mutations', with notes regarding his thesis. Since we'd traveled legally (though Charles had cited it as a small vacation to those who asked), it was no secret that we were there. The CIA were hoping he'd agree to meet with the military already on Paris to discuss Trask and his 'projects', they were also hoping he might help them get in contact with the 'Rose of Chaos'...

"It'd seem that word travels fast around here." I said in a drawl.

"Is this a good idea?" Sea inquired, unsure.

"No idea." I shrugged. "But if this helps keep mutants safe, innocents safe... we need to do it."

"And what will you do if they try to take you in?" Erik demanded.

"The operative word there is 'try'." I pointed out evenly. "If you think I'm not capable and willing of fighting to protect me and mine, you don't know me at all 'Magneto'..."

That certainly seemed to shut him up. A meeting was arranged for early the next morning.

xXx

We spent the night in a hotel near the airport, Anya and I shared a room with Raven, same as Sean and Hank, and Charles and Erik.

"Why did you do it?" Raven asked, almost as soon as we were alone.

"Why did I do what?" For a moment I wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"Go into that room, go against Trask and Stryker." She insisted.

"Why shouldn't I?" I asked in return, before taking a deep breath and elaborating. "It was the right thing to do." I shook my head. "You know, I understand what it was you wanted to do, and why. What happened to your lover..."

"How do you know about Azazel?" The shape-shifted interrupted abruptly. "Charles said you had no time to go through what was in that file but..."

"I didn't." I shook my head. "I... I didn't see it, not exactly... I'm not sure how to explain it. Aside from my visions sometimes I simply... know things. I knew already that Azazel had been captured by Trask, same as Angel, Emma, and many others... the rest... well the rest I simply knew." A sigh escaped me. "I'll be honest with you. If it had been my lover... I don't know what I'd have done." If it had been my match... better not to think about that. "So, at least mentally, I understand why you wanted to kill Trask."

"And yet you stopped me." Mystique pointed out. "Why?"

"Because I saw what became of you, had you succeeded." I told her honestly. "I've seen what becomes of the world..."

"It cannot be that bad..." She began, then cut off at my shiver.

"Will you stay?" Anya asked unexpectedly. "When we leave Paris and go back to Westchester, when we re-open the Institute, will you go with us?"

"I... I don't know." She admitted softly. "So much has happened in the last decade. I've seen so much, done so much... I don't know if I can go back."

"Nor should you." I murmured.

"Why must you see it as going back?" Anya inquired.

Before Raven could give an answer (probably she could even think one), we were interrupted by the sound of something shattering into pieces in the room next to ours, followed by shouting:

"It's not meant to be easy, Erik." Charles sounded edgy. "It's a matter of having faith!"

"That faith is going to kill you one day Charles." Erik replied, voice dark. "And I refuse to watch that happen!"

The last statement was followed by the loud slam of a door.

Anya, Raven and I didn't say a word, we just looked at each other. It seemed like things had finally snapped between Erik and Charles, and I had no idea what was going to happen next... Would they be able to fix it before the meeting with the Americans? Could their troubles be fixed at all? And if they couldn't, what did that mean for Anya and I? For the school? And especially, what would that mean for Charles?

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

Erik was almost incandescent with rage as he stalked out of the hotel. He didn't have to walk far before reaching the closest bar. He'd every intention of getting drunk, and quite possibly picking up a fight, he was sure both would be easy enough, considering all the people around the city 'celebrating', getting drunk themselves and doing mayhem. A part of him knew Charles would disapprove of his plans, and that only seemed to make him even more determined to do it.

An hour later he wasn't quite drunk enough yet, though he was about ready to pummel something (or someone), when something completely unexpected happened: a gorgeous woman, with deep blue eyes and mussed raven black hair that barely reached her chin, wearing a black dress that most women would consider too scandalous (and few would be able to pull off) practically slid into the booth, right beside Erik. Waving at the barman while for a drink, while she moved her other hand almost too close to Erik, less than an inch from his leg.

She stopped when the drink was placed before her, and Erik decided to take the chance to leave. What he wasn't expecting was when the woman's hand shot out to hold him by his wrist. Erik could barely hold himself in check, lest he strangle the woman with the little chain around her neck, or push her earrings through her cranium...

"Take it easy." She muttered, so softly Erik was quite sure he was the only one to hear her, and in such a tone that made it obvious she wasn't drunk, at all. "It's all an act, to try and get the bastards two tables to our left off my back. I'm tired of having to turn them down. I came here to unwind, and at this pace I'm going to end up punching someone... which wouldn't be good, seeing as how I was planning on sticking around Paris for a couple more days..."

"Why me?" Erik inquired, honestly curious.

"From all the single men in this bar, you're the one who didn't look the slightest bit interested." She answered honestly. "Seeing how I'm not the slightest bit interested in you..." She shrugged. "Besides, you look menacing enough to keep the bastards away."

"I see..." Erik decided to ignore the whole thing and turned back to his own drink.

"So, why so angry?" She asked him unexpectedly.

Seeing how she'd expressed a desire for violence herself, he didn't ask where he'd gotten that idea; Erik also thought he might be drunk enough he couldn't think of why he usually wouldn't be interested in doing small talk with a complete stranger, regardless of how sexy she might be (she really wasn't his type, in the end).

"Stupid Charles and his stupid belief that faith will save us all!" He spat. "Like some kind of magic spell. That if we just have faith everything will be just fine..."

The woman seemed to actually think it over before replying:

"Well, I don't know about magic..." She said softly. "But I do know that faith can be a very powerful thing. Can motivate people to do things, to achieve objectives they would have believed impossible at some point."

"Really?" Erik snorted. "Next you're going to tell me that 'Love is all we need'... or some other hippie crap like that."

"When that love is the love of your match... yes, it's all you need." She nodded; then, before he could insult her intelligence or something like that she went on. "I know you think I'm crazy. But I know what I'm talking about."

"Really, where is your love then?" He challenged.

"That's what I'd like to know." She admitted. "Been tracking him for almost a decade, and every time I get close... he vanishes again. The closest I've gotten was in 69, I actually caught up with him, in Spain. I lost him the next day."

"Why keep searching for him?" Erik sounded honestly confused by that. "Most would say he simply doesn't wish to be found..."

"I'm not sure how much of what he's currently doing are his own wishes..." She muttered, mostly to herself, before adding: "It goes back to love, when it comes to a match, to soulmates, you do not give up, ever. No matter how hard it might, how many people and things might appear to be against you; you don't give up. It's like... like there's a force inside you that won't let you stop..."

"I don't like the idea of being manipulated..."

"No, it's not manipulation. It's all you! Because deep inside you know that it's all worth it. No matter how hard it might be, how long it might take, in the end it'll all be worth it just to be with that person..." She took a long drag out of her drink. "You're one soul in two bodies, and you know that, you can feel it..."

"We're like bookends of the same soul..." Charles had said that once...

They didn't talk anymore after that; eventually the woman took her leave, and Erik did the same, right as the bar was about to close. He never did get to pummel anything, somehow his fury had disappeared. As insane as he still thought the woman's beliefs to be (soulmates, bah!), he just couldn't stop thinking about Charles, back at the hotel, their argument, what he might be thinking after the way he'd left... would he finally decide Erik was hopeless and give up on him? Erik wasn't sure that was possible, if Charles hadn't given up on him even when he'd believed Erik to have killed Kennedy... at the same time, he knew they couldn't continue on the same path they'd been thus far. Sooner or later something would have to give, someone would have to compromise or give up on their partnership ever working (and, much as he might not want to accept it, that wasn't something the master of magnetism truly wanted).

He set to walking, letting the almost frigid temperatures sober him slowly. He didn't think he ever actually made a choice, yet somehow he found himself standing just outside the hotel not long after dawn. He bought a cup of coffee from a vendor on the street, and after thinking it over for a moment, bought a cup of tea as well.

It wasn't hard for him at all to get to the right floor, and into the bedroom. It wasn't even locked (he made a mental note to chastise Charles about that later). He was just placing the two paper cups on the bedside table, when Charles rolled out of the bathroom, half dressed, a towel around his neck. He froze in apparent shock as their eyes met.

"Erik...?" He murmured, and he sounded so lost that a part of Erik wanted to kneel before him, promise he'd never leave again, that he loved the telepath and they'd find a way to make their partnership work.

However, he still remembered all the things they kept fighting about, and while he was willing to talk it out, to find a compromise; he wouldn't just give up his side of the argument.

"Yes." Charles said suddenly.

Erik's head snapped up instantly, knowing there was only one reason why Charles would be answering unasked questions...

"I'm sorry!" The telepath cringed. "I'm truly sorry. I cannot help it. You're practically shouting your thoughts right now and..."

He remembered what Charles had explained to him about his telepathy over the last weeks. How easy it was for him to connect... and how hard to hold back; how he needed his connections, that without at least touching the surface of other people's minds they simply didn't seem real. He decided not to make a big deal of that part; they'd need to talk about it; he'd need to understand more about how Charles's telepathy worked exactly; they'd compromise... apparently they'd be compromising on a lot more than just their views about humans...

Charles didn't say anything, though Erik knew instinctively that he must have heard most of that; in the end the older mutant simply arched a brow, waiting.

"Yes, I..." Charles swallowed heavily. "I did hear most of that. I didn't mean to, I just..."

"I know." Erik interrupted him, more softly that he was planning to. "We'll have a long talk about that. But I'm willing to let it be for now."

Charles just nodded. There was so much he wanted to say, questions he wanted so much to ask; yet he was too afraid to say or do something wrong, something that might cause Erik to storm off again, the mere possibility of him not coming back the next time...

"I'm not leaving." Erik might not be a telepath, but he could read Charles well enough. "I might get angry at you sometimes. I might need time to vent, take a walk to calm down, maybe even hit something... but I won't leave you, I... I won't abandon you, not again."

"Oh Erik..." The telepath's voice broke into a near sob.

He wasn't sure how it happened, exactly, but Erik somehow found himself on his knees in front of Charles's wheelchair.

"I still think your faith in humans might kill you someday..." The master of magnetism added for good measure. "And I'll be here, to make sure you're safe..."

Charles couldn't help it, he just sort of fell into Erik's arms, embracing him and kissing him with everything he had.

When the two men finally stepped out of the bedroom and joined the rest for breakfast nearly an hour later no one said a thing (though Charles was quite sure that they'd all heard at least the tail end of their argument the previous night), perhaps it was better that way.

xXx Rose's POV xXx

Raven and Anya hadn't said a word about what we'd heard the night before, when Charles and Erik finally joined us for breakfast. I was so happy that he'd chosen to stay that I didn't say anything either. It was good to know that their bond was strong enough to pull them back together, regardless of how badly their fights might get... it gave me hope for the future.

The meeting with the Americans went nothing like the one with the Vietnamese; on the one hand because it wasn't only Americans, representatives of other governments, like the British and the French, were present as well; on the other, it was Charles who took the lead on that one. As Prof. Charles Francis Xavier, Dr. on Biology, Genetics and Psychology. The CIA remembered that he'd been consulted regarding the matter with Shaw and the Russians in 1962; though they didn't remember how that had ended exactly (and would never think to ask).

There was a slight disagreement in the ranks, right before we went in. The group as a whole seemed to disagree with the plan of Charles and I going in alone; when Erik had insisted on going in, Charles had tried to remind him of his own status, to which Erik had replied that if Charles had truly done what he claimed (blurring everyone's memory of Magneto just enough no one would be able to recognize him), then they'd nothing to worry about. As far as the world was concerned, Erik Lehnsherr was dead, he was Max Eisenhardt. Of course, once that point was made, the others insisted on accompanying us as well.

We probably painted an interesting picture as we went in, with Charles in the middle of the group, Erik/Max on his right and myself on his left, Anya, Hank, Sean and Raven behind us (I had no idea what Erik and Charles said to convince her to stay... and to not kill us for stopping her in her mission, but she was still there). To make a point we were all wearing X-Men suits, even Charles himself. Yes, I was sure we painted an interesting picture indeed.

Nothing could have ever prepared me for what I saw the moment we were inside the room. The Director of the CIA was present, along with a small retinue, the British Ambassador in Paris and some members of the French government; there was also a group of American Military, who seemed to have been pulled there directly from Vietnam... Hakon Serrure was in that group.

The moment our eyes met I nearly stumbled, probably would have if Charles hadn't discreetly pressed a hand to my hip; beside me I could sense Anya too stopping in shock.

*Rose...?* Charles began, questioningly.

*It's alright.* I half-lied. *I'll be fine. Stick to the plan.*

I could almost hear my brother whispering, with his usual half-concealed amusement: 'what chaos have you been causing now Rosie Rose?' Yet I knew that couldn't happen, because for my own good, and especially his, no one could know we were related.

"Ladies and gentlemen." Charles greeted the group, very formal. "I am Charles Xavier, Dr. in Biology and Genetics. I believe you were interested in a meeting."

"We were indeed interested in a meeting with yourself, and the lady who called herself the Rose of Chaos, earlier today." One of the military men said. "I however, do not know what the rest of them are doing here."

"You of course wouldn't expect us to come here on our own." Charles spoke before Erik could say something probably cutting. "You've brought your own team of trusted associates, we've only done the same. In fact, I believe some introductions might be in order."

There were some introductions, though mostly limited to the people in command. Hakon was named in passing as a Lt. Colonel in charge of a unit of 'gifted' soldiers.

"Well, you already know who I am, of course." Charles stated. "As for my companions. At my right is my colleague Max Eisenhardt, his daughter: Anya; and some of our X-Men: Mystique, Beast and Banshee."

He didn't signal to anyone when saying each name, and none of them called their attention particularly. It was better that way.

"As for the Rose..." Charles added, giving me the opening to handle that part however I wished.

I knew what I had to do, and still, it was hard...

"They call me the Rose of Chaos." I introduced myself. "I suppose, for meetings such as this, you may call me Alfdis Eisenhardt."

The obvious connection was made, and just like that, with a few words, I claimed Max and Anya as my family, and cut ties with all others...

The meeting went well-enough. Charles expressed his plans for reopening the Institute and, at Max's insistence persuaded the CIA and military to grant the school the status of haven, of refuge (with benefits close to those of a foreign embassy... almost but not quite), thankfully with no actual manipulation required. There was also talk about the X-Men, a team that would be expected to help deal with any rogue mutants that might pop up; Charles and Max both agreed to it, with the proviso that the government would oversee only, and would not try to force them to turn any mutants over (criminals or not); a secondary proviso was also made if the mutant in question happened to have killed humans intentionally rather than accidentally (in which case they were to be treated like any human killer).

By the end of the negotiations it was obvious that they hadn't all gotten exactly what they wanted, but they were unlikely to get a better deal, even Max could see that.

Hakon Serrure, of all people, was chosen to be the first military liaison with the X-Men; with Moira McTaggert backing him up with the CIA. They both promised to do what they could to help and not interfere in 'mutant affairs' unless it was a matter of life or death.

Charles and I silently agreed that Fate must be laughing at us both.

Once the meeting was over we each took our leave, though we soon ended up in a different room, where Hakon and Moira joined us. The first thing Charles did was apologize to her, pressing a hand to her face as he unsealed the memories from Westchester and Cuba... something that was followed by a resounding slap.

"Told you that would happen." Sean's deadpan broke the ensuing silence.

Moira, for her part, looked like she wasn't sure if she should be shrieking at Charles for violating her mind, or trying to see it all from his point of view... truth be told, regardless of how much she might get it, in the end he'd still violated her mind, her trust.

*Hey!* The telepath in question complained inside my head.

*Sorry Charles.* I replied, not sorry at all, and he knew it. *You know I have no trouble with you being in my head half the time... but there's a different between picking surface thoughts, those are pretty much a part of you... and actually diving into someone's mind, taking their memories, changing them... because if one cannot even trust themselves, what then can we trust?* I shook my head, mostly to myself. *It's not like I don't understand why you did it, you know I do. I'm quite aware of what could have happened if someone like Stryker had pressed her, possibly even tortured her while trying to get to you. But that doesn't change that you used your powers against her, without her consent, or even her knowledge. You pretty much did the very thing that most of those humans are afraid of mutants doing...*

Charles had no reply for that, I knew he wouldn't. And really, that I might be capable of some rather 'questionable' acts (like attacking a military convoy and freeing a convicted fellon... and nevermind that he didn't kill Kennedy, he still killed other people, a lot of other people), didn't mean I was in any way foolish or naïve enough not to realize why such things might be wrong. It just meant that I decided something else was more important. It probably meant that I wasn't exactly 'good', but it's not like I was striving to be a paragon of virtue or anything; I was quite aware of my own faults, always had been.

I left Charles to deal with things with Moira (while Erik laughed at him), and instead Anya and I approached our brother.

"Oh little sisters, what a chaos you've unleashed." He commented, and he sounded more amused than annoyed, which helped settle me; particularly when he focused on me. "Did you see this last year? Was that why you did it?"

"Not at all." I admitted softly. "I... I think I saw the end of the world. Not that there was much to see, in the end... but the point remains."

"You never said that." Hakon murmured quietly. "According to Mama all you said was that a friend needed help..."

"And he did." I nodded emphatically. "It's complicated."

"They're a match, are they not?" Hakon inquired, apropos of nothing.

I was so shocked by the question that for a moment I couldn't think how to answer.

"I may not be able to see bonds the way you, Mama and Papa can... but having met matches in the past, I can see it." Hakon went on. "In the way they look at each other, the way they stand, the way they move, always in each other's orbit..."

"Well, I hope it's not that obvious to the rest of the world, otherwise they'll be arrested for gross indecency or some other ridiculous charges." Anya huffed.

"I'm sure they're capable of discretion." Hakon nodded dismissively. "They'll have your support, the support of their family..."

And just like that, the reminder of what I'd done; of what both Anya and I'd done...

"You understand why I did it, don't you?" I asked him very quietly. "It's not that I don't love you, all of you. It's just..."

"Safer this way." He finished for me. "For all of us. Especially after what Uncle Howard did years ago..."

"Why did he do that?" Anya asked abruptly. "Why did he say those awful things? I mean, he never seemed to have a problem with us..."

"He still doesn't." Hakon assured us. "It's not that Uncle Howard hates mutants, he's just afraid. He knows that not everyone may be as accepting of those different. Mama and Papa have always done their best to protect us, and they taught us to do the same; but Charles... he's so much of a dreamer. I think Uncle Howard was afraid that if he got used to being accepted by people in power, he might end up sharing his secrets with the wrong person. Someone who might use that confidence against him, and against his charges..."

"So what, Uncle Howard was trying to teach him a lesson or something?" Anya didn't sound too convinced as he said it.

"Being cruel to be kind..." I murmured softly, understanding.

"Yes." Hakon nodded. "Awful as it might seem, Charles needed to learn to keep that sort of information private; for his own safety, and that of the students." He made a pause before adding. "He's hoping you'll allow him to make some 'anonymous donations' in the future, though."

"I understand why he did it." I nodded. "Much as I might wish it weren't necessary, that Charles could know his friend doesn't hate him... it might be better this way in the long run. Perhaps some day in the future..."

"Perhaps." Hakon nodded, though I could tell he didn't really believe it. Then he changed the topic. "So, you're off to be teachers, both of you."

"Something like that, yes." Anya nodded. "I like the idea."

"Me too." I agreed. "I think we'll be able to do some good."

"I think so too." He nodded. "Just, never forget that whatever names you might carry, you will always have more family who loves you."

"We know." Anya and I called in sync.

"Guys." Hank interrupted softly, sheepish. "We gotta go."

Quiet goodbyes were said, and soon we were all on our way. Erik and Raven were still with us when we boarded the plane back to New York, and while I had no idea what the future might have in store for us exactly, I believed it'd be good. I had faith in them, in all of us.

Chapter Text

Lavender Rose

There is such a thing as 'Love at First Sight', Impossible as it might seem.

There was a boy... and didn't that sound like the start of a soap-opera, or maybe a romantic musical that would probably end in tragedy... I was also, quite evidently, going crazy even in my dreams... because I knew I was dreaming, or perhaps I was having a vision. As the latter became more frequent, it became a tad harder to distinguish the two. Most of the time I wouldn't know for sure that what I'd dreamt had been a vision (either of the future, the past, or sometimes even the present, elsewhere) until something happened to make me see the truth. Thankfully most such visions didn't require me to do anything at all.

In that moment I was standing in an alley, an alley that was beginning to get filled by things, electronics, mostly television sets. It took me a while but eventually I realized that they weren't just appearing there, as if by some sort of magic, a boy was carrying them out of a store around the corner and half a block down street. Only he was moving so fast even I didn't seem him at first. He was young, tall, with hair that was somewhere between platinum blonde and actually silver, eyes like steel; in a dark band t-shirt, jeans and worn sneakers.

For a second I wondered what the point was of seeing a thief. Granted, he was a mutant, and he was young (probably young enough for the soon-to-open Institute), but he obviously had control of his power; and while stealing was illegal, it wasn't a serious enough crime to concern the X-Men. Then the alley around me disappeared, I was transported elsewhere, and actually got to see what it was he was doing with the TVs... It wasn't often that my world-view shifted, but that certainly did it. Especially when I saw him kneeling in front of a dark auburn-haired girl with the same eyes as him, she was laying sprawled on a pink couch, looking completely out of it (in a way my conscious mind refused to process).

As dreams began to give way to reality, another rush of visions passed me. Mostly I saw the same boy. As he grew into a man, one who proved he'd the potential to be a lot more than a thief. He was almost always with the redheaded girl from before, standing the two of them side of side; in some of those visions Anya was there too, sometimes even Erik, Charles and/or myself. It was obvious they went meant to be part of our team, of our family. The last scene was a bit strange, because he didn't look quite the same, his clothes were a lot different, but it wasn't even that, his hair was practically white, and his features didn't look quite the same (though that might have been the facial hair...), he was running, and there were gun-shots, and then it was all over.

I woke up, much less violently than the previous times I'd had strong visions. I still refused to focus too much on why the redheaded girl had seemed so off in the first scene I'd seen her, instead of that I began making a plan for getting new students.

Six months passed rather fast. The X-Men were reformed, a team consisting of: Magneto (field commander), Havok (2iC), Mystique, Beast, Banshee and myself (ChaosRose, or just Rose); with Professor X backing us up through Cerebro. We also had protocols, in case the Professor needed to be in person for some reason, Anya had trained to take charge of communications, using the code-name of Watchtower.

With some help from the mutant veterans, the Howling Commandos, and even Moira, we soon had a list of students (and a few more teachers too, thankfully), most of them teenagers, ready to begin attending the Xavier Institute in the fall. A few actually ended in the mansion sooner, those whose families didn't want them. Arrangements had been made through the CIA, for them to be considered wards of the Institute. A case-worker was assigned to supervise the situation, make sure the teenagers would be alright living in what was supposed to be a school; it took a little while to find the right person to handle the case, as the first few case-workers either didn't care for the children for being mutants, didn't like the idea of so many of us gathering in a single place, or simply didn't care for doing their job at all (it'd been quite the stressful few days).

Through those six months I kept having the same vision, centered around the silver-haired boy, the speedster. Some times with more scenes, others with less, but it was always essentially the same... and it always ended the same way too.

Also, our family had grown too. It'd taken us all by surprise when Raven disappeared without warning in early May, only for her to return two days later, a nine-year-old boy with blue skin, dark hair, only three fingers on each hand and a tail holding her hand. Raven introduced him as Kurt Darkholme... her son. Hers and Azazel's. Even Erik was floored by that. After some mental calculations he'd probably realized Mystique had been pregnant when Azazel was captured, and when he left for Dallas... and he hadn't known. She hadn't told him. And she had apparently abandoned her son before going on the hunt for Trask.

We eventually learned that Raven had left her baby son with some friend's of Azazel's in Munich. The family owned a circus, and a good number of the performers were actually mutants with visible mutations; though most of the public believed them to be makeup or disguises. They'd looked after Kurt, until she decided life in Westchester was good and safe enough for her to go get him. I could sense that Charles wasn't sure if he should be honored that she believed in him, in his dream for the school... or offended that it'd taken her almost four months to decide that.

Another development was the fact that Sean and Moira had begun dating at some point. Everyone who'd been part of the 'first class' as they sometimes called themselves, knew that Sean had had a huge crush on Moira back in '62, though he'd never tried anything. However, while a ten-year difference in age might seem an insurmountable obstacle when one is 18 and the other 28; it apparently wasn't such when one was 29, war veteran and senior X-Men, and the other 39, divorcee and senior agent in the CIA. According to Moira, she and Joe were actually supposed to give their marriage another try, she was to take a few days off to spend them just with him, when Paris happened. Joe hadn't been exactly understanding, he'd actually slapped her once, tried to do more; but thankfully Moira's partner had been just outside and intervened in time. The divorce had gone through while she was still working on making the X-Men official. We had no idea what Sean had said or done to convince her to go on a date with him... but we were very happy for the both of them nonetheless.

On August 1st we were practically finished with all the preparations to re-open the Institute. We were fully accredited, our students would be quite prepared to go on to college if they so chose, after graduating with us. We were even receiving requests for enrollment from rich families looking for a prep-school for their children (apparently the Xavier name called their attention). Erik refused to take human children, at least not until other schools were just as willing to take mutant children and treat them as equals; otherwise we'd just be giving humans places that ought to belong to mutants. None of us could really disagree with that. While at least Charles and I shared the dream that one day humans and mutants might go to school together, in the Institute, and all other schools; the time for that hadn't come just yet.

That day we had a meeting with another parent of prospective students. A divorced mother from DC wanted her two eldest children to attend the Institute. We didn't know how she'd found out about the school, or if her children were even mutants. Which was why Charles and I were at the door to receive them, while others like Raven, Kurt and Hank were staying away (Raven refused to take on a 'human' skin, unless it was absolutely necessary; and since we all agreed that inside the Institute it was to be 'mutant and proud' no one begrudged her that... though we'd put down our foot on the 'naked' issue, there would be impressionable children attending her classes!).

I couldn't help the tension as I stood beside Charles, watching the car going up the driveway. I didn't quite notice when I began playing with my necklace: a gold Star of David inside a triangle of polished sterling silver, hanging from a delicate silver chain. A gift from Erik, it'd belonged to his sister Ruth, and it was the only thing he managed to salvage after she'd died in Auschwitz. He had given it to me the same day he gave Anya a silver locket with the pictures of his parents inside; it was the last gift his own mother: Edie Lehnsherr (nee Eisenhardt) had given him, before the camps, before the ghetto. I treasured that pendant as much as I did my rose bracelet, they were both symbols that connected me to my family, each to one branch of it. It didn't matter if I wasn't a Jew, I didn't ascribe to any specific religion or faith, though there were pieces of each that called to me. Basically I believed in the existence of a Higher Being or Power, something that was beyond good and evil, light and dark, life and death; I believed in the afterlife, in souls, in eternity, and most of all, I believed in soulmates... so maybe most people wouldn't think it all fit together; I still held onto those beliefs.

Finally the car stopped, and before the motor was fully off, there was someone standing beside the back-door. It took me a fraction of a second to realize I knew that boy, he was the same boy I'd been dreaming of for the past six months: with silver hair and steel eyes, in a black t-shirt with a logo of some rock band, jeans and worn sneakers. Then he opened the car-door and a figure slowly unfolded from the backseat: almost as tall as him, with auburn hair, steel eyes, skin a tone too pale to be fully healthy, dressed in a pale pink summer dress with polka dots and red flats; and even though she wasn't sprawled but standing, I knew there was something definitely off about that girl... and I wasn't the only one.

It actually took me a few moments to realize why no one was moving, well, no one except the boy, though even his movements were sluggish.

"Hey man!" He exclaimed, voice a bit broken, like someone drunk, or sleepy. "What the hell?! What did you do to me?!"

"I froze you, all three of you." Charles admitted, cocking his head sideways. "It appears that your mutation gives you a degree of protection from that..."

"Yeah, I have no idea what the hell you just said, but I want you to stop it, now." He snapped. "Let Wendy go, now!"

"I'm not hurting her." Charles hurried to assure him. "Just... something's wrong with her, and I'm trying to understand what it is and how to help her, how to help you both..."

"Well, of course there's something wrong with her!" The boy snapped. "She's drugged!"

"What?!" I knew, of course I did, but I refused to acknowledge it because there was no way the girl could be drugged and her mother not know it, and her to be so calm... it left only one option, and it was so awful I'd been shying away from it all along.

"Mother refuses to go anywhere near Wendy when she has access to her magic." The boy explained through gritted teeth. "She's on some strong sedatives right now. Usually I wouldn't allow her to do that to my sister... but when I learned about you, what you seem to be doing here... I knew she'd be better off here, we probably both will, and it was the only way I could get mom to bring her, to even get into the car with her."

I couldn't process it. Whatever Wendy's gift might be, for her own mother to refuse to interact with her unless the girl was drugged into incoherence... stars!

"Yes, well I will not allow a student of mine, or prospective student to be treated like this." Charles stated, obviously as stricken by the whole situation as I. "So how about we get your sister and mother inside. I'll call Hank and he can give... Wendy, was it? He can give her something to flush out the sedatives and then, once she's awake, we can all have a conversation. Would that be alright with you...?"

"Peter." The boy introduced himself. "Peter Maximoff. Wendy's my twin sister. And that's just fine with me man. I hate seeing her like this..."

Charles was already turning back inside, and I imagined he must be getting in touch with Hank to get something for Wendy; when he looked over his shoulder:

"I promise you Peter, that barring a matter of life or death, your sister will never be subjected to something like that again." He reassured the boy.

The boy nodded repeatedly, so fast that I was sure anyone without his gift would be getting whiplash; but there was just so much gratitude coming off him... it was obvious he loved his twin sister very much.

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

Not even five minutes had passed when Max pretty much burst into the little sitting room where they were waiting. Peter and Wendy were on the biggest sofa, with the silver-haired boy running a hand through his twin-sister's hair every so often; their mother was half-sitting half-laying in another couch (honestly, no one had cared much about her after learning what she'd done to the mutant girl, whom Hank had already seen to).

"What's wrong liebling (darling)?" Max asked Charles, the German endearment falling off his lips with an ease that still surprised some.

It was shocking for all but Charles and the sisters, who'd known Max/Erik in the past, seen him at his worst, yet never closely enough to realize the depths he hid of his heart, the amount of love he was capable of... Only Charles truly knew about that; and Alfdis to a lesser degree (partly due to her visions, and partly due to the memories she and Charles had exchanged while he was recovering his powers the previous fall); Anya... she'd always believed in him.

"Huh?" Charles was taken completely by surprise by his partner's arrival.

"You're upset." Max explained. "I could sense it all the way to the edge of the estate..."

He'd been working on fixing and perhaps improving the fence marking the limits of the estate, to make sure the children would be safe inside. He and Hank were actually working on some safety measures, perhaps even a way for him to mount a defense in case it was ever necessary (it was all theoretical for the time being, but still).

"Didn't you have a visit?" Alex, who'd been with Max, and had practically dashed after him when seeing him run at such speeds, asked as he joined the group.

"I did... I do." Charles nodded. "It wasn't a good start." He ran a hand through his hair. "They'd barely gotten here when I realized that not only the two prospective students are, in fact, mutants, but the girl was drugged. Heavily sedated to be precise."

"What?!" The fury from everyone (as almost everyone else had joined them in the meantime) was quite obvious.

"Shush!" Alfdis shut them up abruptly. "Hank has already seen to her, gave her something to flush the drugs out, she's recovering, sleeping it off, so-to-speak."

"She's also not alone." Peter muttered from his spot beside Wendy. "If anyone thinks about taking advantage of Wendy's unconsciousness..."

"Never!" They all replied almost in unison.

Max, for his part went to kneel beside the sofa, to be more level with the boy and his sleeping sister, looking him straight in the eye.

"I promise you, this will never happen again." He assured the boy. "We'll keep both you and your sister safe."

If asked, Peter would have been unable to tell anyone why exactly he believed the words of a man he'd never seen before in his life; perhaps it was how similar they were to the ones the kind man in the wheelchair had told him, or the way everyone else seemed to fully agree with the sentiment; in the end Peter just couldn't help but believe him. The promise also helped him relax minutely, settling more comfortably beside Wendy as they all waited for her to wake up.

While still kneeling Max had been able to nudge his partner's mind just enough to silently convince him to tell him what had happened exactly; which was why, upon seeing Peter relax, if just a little, the master of magnetism got back on his feet, then turned his attention to the human woman laying on the other couch. The moment his eyes laid on her, he froze.

"I know her..." He was so shocked he didn't even notice when he answered the unasked question out-loud, instead of just through his bond with Charles.

"What?!" No one was expecting that.

"Magda..." He added quietly, before finding Anya in the group of people staring straight at him and adding, as if just for her: "Tut dai (Your mother)."

Anya swayed in her spot, while Alfdis and Charles, the two other people who'd understood what Max had just said (as he'd said it in Romany), could only stare at him.

"Are you sure?" Alfdis demanded, a hint of steel that only those who truly knew her and the strength of the bonds that tied her to her sister, and also to a Max, would understand.

"I may not have seen her in nineteen years... but yes, I'm sure." Max nodded, then added. "Just look at Anya, I saw the likeness from the start."

It was then that the rest caught on to what exactly Max had said before. The shock was great, and they all began talking practically over each other, trying to understand what was going on. Only one person, the most unlikely of all, seemed to have caught a tiny little detail, the fact that that woman, Magda, Max's wife, or ex-wife, whichever, Anya's birth-mother... had purposefully drugged her mutant daughter... Sean just knew that whatever might yet come, it wasn't going to be pretty, at all.

Somehow Charles managed to convince (no telepathic persuasion necessary, really) almost everyone else to vacate the sitting room, so as not to overwhelm Magda and Wendy when they woke up. Alfdis and Anya sat near the twins, studiously not looking at the people on the other side of the room; Charles was left sitting in his wheelchair, beside the sofa that held the older woman, Max half-hidden as he stood against a wall to a side.

Surprisingly enough, it was Wendy who woke up first.

"Shush sis, it's alright..." Peter cooed at her. "You're alright. We're safe."

They watched as Wendy pressed two fingers to Peter's temple, there was a red spark, very brief, and then he was talking again.

"We're at the special school, remember that's where I wanted us to go?" He murmured. "There are people here, who'll help us."

Another touch, another spark.

"No, they won't hurt you, they won't hurt either of us." He did his best to reassure her.

"May I?" Alfdis called softly.

That made both siblings turn to her, she was crouching in front of the sofa, though not quite so close as to be invading their space.

"You're Wendy, right?" She asked.

The auburn-haired girl nodded silently.

"Very well, Wendy, like we were telling Peter earlier, this is a special school." Alfdis told her softly, speaking like she would to a little girl. "We're all different. Most of the people in this school, teachers and students both, are mutants. That means we're gifted, we can do special things, like you and your brother can. This is one of the things I can do..." With a snap of her fingers she called the smallest of flames to her index finder, it was barely bigger than a candle flame. "I have control over fire." She proceeded to multiply the flames, so there was one on each finger, then closed her hand briefly, and when she opened it again, a slightly bigger flame was cupped in her palm. "See?"

Wendy sat up, looking at the flame closely, enthralled.

"Do you want to touch it?" Alfdis offered. "I promise you won't be burnt."

For some reason most probably would never be able to comprehend, Wendy believed her, and slowly extended a hand to the flame. She touched it once, twice, thrice; quick, hesitant touches, before gaining more confidence and placing her fingers inside the flame.

"Tickles!" She giggled out loud.

No one in the room could miss the way tears glistened in Peter's face, though only Charles could hear what he was thinking right then... how it was the first time his sister had laughed in so long... and also the first word she'd said out-loud in years!

No one knew what Wendy's powers were, exactly, not even Peter. Apparently she could move things with her mind, like making them float, if she got upset she'd sometimes crush them, there had been one particular time when she'd caused an explosion... and that had also been when Magda began fearing her, refused to be in the same room as her, and insisted that the teenager take sedatives if she was going to be anywhere close to Magda, or to the youngest Maximoff child: Nadya, eight years old and completely human (Magda had left her with a nanny, even under protest from Nadya herself).

The moment was almost perfect, with Alfdis making the flame dance around Wendy's hand, and even up her arm briefly, causing the girl to laugh like crazy (Peter, Anya, Charles and even Max couldn't help but smile themselves at the antics); and then Magda woke up.

At first it didn't seem like a big thing, not until she turned and saw Wendy, awake, and laughing...

"Why is she awake?!" She shrieked, completely hysterical. "She's gonna kill us all!"

It was as if a switch had been flipped, one moment Wendy was smiling brightly, the picture of a perfect, happy child... the next she was wailing.

"Shit!" Peter cried out himself. "Get back!"

Everyone did as told, everyone except Alfdis, who remained standing right before Wendy. She could see as the girl's eyes went from steel-gray to a sparkling crimson, and then an aura of the same color began enveloping her.

"She's gonna blow up!" Peter hissed, debating between trying to run her out, or running everyone out instead.

"She's gonna kill us all!" Magda cried out, hysterical.

Before Peter could make up his mind, Alfdis did, as she threw herself at Wendy, only she didn't attack the younger girl, instead she embraced her tightly. Then, the greatest shock: she began humming, and then singing, a lullaby... in Yiddish (one she'd picked up from Erik's memories):

"In dem beys hamikdash
In a vinkl kheyder
Zitzt di almone Bas Zion aleyn.
Ir ben yokhidl Yidele
Vigt zi keseyder
Un zingt im tzu shlofn a lidele sheyn:
ay-lilulilulilu..."

"Unter Yidele's vigele
Shteyt a klor vayse tzigele
Dos tzigele is geforn handlen
Dos vet zayn dayn baruf,
Rozhinkes mit mandlen
Shlof zhe Yidele,
Shlof zhe Yidele,
Shlof zhe Yidele, shlof."

"In dem lidl, mayn kind,
Ligt fil neviyes.
Az du vest amol zayn tzezeyt oyf der velt.
A soykher vestu zayn
Fun ale tvues.
Un vest in dem oykh fardinen fil gelt:
Ay-lilulilulilu..."

"Az du vest vern raykh, Idele,
Zolst zikh dermonen in dem lidele,
"Rozhinkes mit mandlen",
Dos vest zayn dayn baruf.
Yidele vet ale handlen.
Shlof zhe Yidele,
Shlof zhe Yidele,
Shlof zhe Yidele, shlof."

Three minutes passed, and then the lullaby came to an end. Through it all bright, almost violent red sparks clashed on the couch, the carpet, and both girls, and while the furniture didn't fare too well, not a single cry of pain left Alfdis.

At some point Magda opened her mouth, possibly to say something else, but before she could a hand covered her mouth.

"Wendy's not hurting anyone." She announced. "Now, stop shouting, least you undo my sister's work. Least you undo all the work Alfdis's done on your daughter..."

"She's a witch." Magda stated quietly. "And only my daughter by a curse of fate."

Magda couldn't have known it, but Anya felt like her heart died a little with every poisonous word that passed the woman's lips. So long wanting to see her birth-mother again, to dream of a chance to know her, to be family again. Meeting her dadro, getting to know him, to love him and be loved by him had filled her with so much joy; made her believe that her dreams weren't as impossible as they might have seemed. He'd only kind words to tell about his wife, despite the fact that they hadn't seen each other since the day they believed Anya to have died... and to see what her dai truly was... a part of Anya wondered if it was her fault, if losing her had turned the kind, loving woman she remembered from childish dreams into what she saw before her in that moment... or if she'd just built up on an illusion over the last nineteen years.

*It's not your fault sweetheart...* Charles whispered directly into her mind. *People make their own choices. Whether your mother has changed, or has always been as she's now... it will never be your fault. And you can be sure your dadro believes the same.*

While not completely convinced, Charles's words were at least enough to allow Anya to focus again. Whatever the truth might be, she'd not allow it to diminish her, she was still Anya Eisenhardt, and she had a family that loved her (technically two families).

"I'm alright." Alfdis announced right then, twisting to sit beside Wendy on the couch. "Though I'm afraid Charles that there's no salvaging the couch."

"That's just fine, love, it's just a couch." Charles shrugged his shoulder, a smile on his face.

"How's that possible?" Magda asked, absolutely shocked. "The things she can do."

"Are wonderful gifts, as is she." Alfdis stated strongly, an arm around Wendy's shoulders, then she turned to Charles and added. "I am chaos... and so is she..."

"Oh..." Charles breathed out in realization.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter demanded.

"Alfdis's gifts, both her Fire and her Sight... her very nature, it's all rooted in chaos." Anya explained as best she could. "Apparently so are Wendy's own abilities. It's why your sister could not hurt her. Whatever Wendy might be able to do, Rose is pretty much immune to it."

"Rose?" Magda asked. "Didn't you just say her name was Alfdis."

"My name is Alfdis... and it's also Rose, Chaos-Rose, it's the code-name I carry as part of the X-Men." The auburn-haired, chocolate eyed woman announced proudly.

"This is insanity, absolute insanity." Magda stated, getting on her feet in a rush. "I'm leaving this place, this... this nuthouse!"

"You may go wherever you wish, of course, that is your right." Charles nodded quite pleasantly. "But on that same course, Peter and Wendy are free to stay here, if that is their wish."

"We'll stay." Peter didn't even need to wait for Wendy to say anything.

"Peter!" Magda hissed.

"We're staying here mother." Peter announced, steel in his voice. "At least here they won't hold the absence of my father against me. At least here they won't try to drug Wendy into incoherence because they're terrified she'll blow the house up!"

"She could have killed Nadya, killed us all." Magda tried to defend herself.

"Because you were shrieking at her, chastising her, yelling at us both for things we couldn't help." Peter began ranting at her. "Like the color of our eyes, Nadya's father abandoning us, the fact that we're not human!"

"Nadya's father?" Charles parroted, an idea beginning to form in his head. "What about yours?"

"No idea." Peter deadpanned. "Mom refuses to talk about him except..."

"He's the devil!" Magda wailed. "An insane monster who will one day destroy the world!"

"Except for that." Peter finished, somewhat unnecessarily.

Charles couldn't help it, he picked the scene running through Magda's head in that moment; of a man standing, nearly incandescent with rage, in the middle of the ruins of what once must have been a quiet little village... Charles knew that man, would have known him no matter what...

"Erik..." He breathed out, not quite realizing he was doing so out-loud.

"You kept them from me!" Max practically roared. "You kept my children from me!"

Magda pretty much jumped in fright, her face going white as she turned to the man she hadn't noticed until that very moment.

"Max..." She gasped. "You're here... how...?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He drawled, purposefully using his powers to pull at the different pieces of jewelry on her, not too much, just enough to remind her of what he could do.

"You're our father?!" Peter cried out, jumping to his feet.

That froze Max, as he turned to look at the boy, and the girl sitting with Alfdis behind him.

"Where have you been our whole lives?!" Peter demanded hotly.

"I didn't know you existed." Max assured him. "If I'd known..." He turned back towards Magda. "Why did you keep them from me?! How could you...? I loved you Magda. And perhaps you did not love me, not after Ukraine, but to keep something like this from me, to keep them from me. I looked for you, I searched for a whole year!"

"Exactly!" Magda snapped at him. "I spent all that time living in fear. Running, petrified that you might find me one day. That you might kill me..."

"I would never hurt you..." Max was honestly hurt by the mere suggestion.

"You killed all those people!" Magda screamed at him. "You're a monster!"

"They were the monsters." Max insisted. "They turned on us first."

"Only because of you." Magda was hysterical by that point, beyond that even. "It was your fault that Anya died... you killed her."

Peter closed his eyes tight. He'd heard all about Anya; his older sister, who'd died when just being five, almost a year before he and Wendy were born.

Max opened and closed his mouth several times, as if not knowing quite what to say.

"Nothing to say?" Magda challenged him. "Might that be because you know I'm right? It's your fault our little one died..."

"No, it's not." The introduction of a new voice into the conversation froze everyone.

Yet again Max opened his mouth, yet not a word came out, he didn't dare say a thing, deciding it was better for her to decide how to proceed.

"It's not his fault..." The chocolate-eyed, red-haired young woman stated softly.

"Yes it is!" Magda cried out. "He killed my Anya!"

"No, he did not!" The young woman snapped in return. "I'm right here!"

Everyone's eyes snapped to her then.

"No one killed me, and especially not dadro..." She went on.

"What kind of sick games are you playing here...?!" She began.

"No games." The other interrupted her. "My name is Anya Eisenhardt, and as you can see, I'm perfectly alive."

"That's impossible." Magda muttered, giving a step back in shock.

"Not impossible." Anya smiled as she moved back a lock of her, enough to uncover the scars on her face. "Not when your sister can manipulate fire... and shield you from it."

"You kept her from me!" Magda yelled at Max. "You let me believe her dead!"

"No, I didn't..." Max began.

"Stop it!" Anya almost shrieked herself, before placing herself between her two birth-parents. "Stop blaming him for everything. It wasn't his fault. He didn't know. Not until six months ago. He believed me dead, just like you did..."

"Where have you been all this years then?" Magda insisted.

"With phei (sister)..." She made a pause when realizing she'd slipped into Romany without quite noticing, focused on speaking English. "My sister... she took me in, Mama and Papa adopted me. I grew up with them in England, where we met Charles, and Raven; moved to New York a few years later. I was home-schooled for most of my childhood, just like Alfdis and our brother... we went to college, Dartmouth..." No one missed just the kind of university she'd attended. "Then, last summer sis had a vision, things were coming, Charles needed help. So we came here. After that we just decided to stay..."

"Did you... did you ever try...?" Magda didn't seem to even be able to form the question.

"Did I ever try to find you?" Anya finish for her. "I won't lie to you. I didn't, I couldn't. Once the trauma of what happened passed, I remembered very little of you and dadro, more impressions than actual memories, and certainly nowhere near enough to find you. Mama and Papa did what they could, but they had next to nothing to go on. The village was gone, we didn't even know for sure if one or both of you might be among the dead!"

"It was all his fault." Magda insisted, viciously. "He destroyed everything."

"He believed he'd just seen his daughter die." Alfdis pointed out evenly. "While I cannot say I'd have done the same... I do understand why he acted as he did."

"Me too." Anya agreed wholeheartedly.

They also could imagine what their Papa would have done in Max's place... it would probably have been much, much worse.

"You cannot tell me..." Magda was shocked. "You take his side? He's a monster!"

"He's my father!" Anya snapped. "And I thought you were my mother..."

"But I am..." Magda began.

"With the way you treat my sister?" Anya challenged. "Like she's a monster, a... a..." She couldn't even say the words running through her mind. "She's my baby sister, and because of you she's terrified of herself, of what she can do..."

"What she can do isn't natural!" Magda replied.

"Oh, but what is more natural than evolution?" Max drawled from behind Anya.

"I've waited almost twenty years to see you again..." Anya began, only to dash Magda's hopes as she added. "But if you cannot accept who and what we are..."

"Are you... are you really like them?" Magda asked, very quietly.

"A mutant?" Anya clarified, then shrugged, before standing straighter as she added, very clearly: "I am

my father's daughter, and proud of it."

It seemed like Magda simply couldn't take it anymore after that, she turned around and made to walk away.

"I'm going back to DC." She announced, not quite turning to look at the twins. "You are each other's problem now. You certainly deserve one another."

And then she was gone.

For the longest time no one said a word, no one moved, and then Max approached his daughter and, placing a supportive hand in the middle of her back, he spoke, very quietly.

"You didn't have to do that, you know?" He murmured. "You could have told her the truth. You can still do that, if you wish. There's still time..."

"The truth?" Peter piped up, confused.

"That I'm no mutant at all." Anya answered honestly. "I'm completely human, no gift, no mutation. As baseline as she is..." She let out a sigh and shook her head slowly as she turned back to her father. "I could have told her the truth, yes. And have her accept me simply because I am human? No, I refuse to allow that. And I didn't lie, not really, I am my father's daughter, and proud of it. The lack of a small gene doesn't change that fact. She... she couldn't take what you are, and I couldn't have taken her attitude with regards to you. If Mama and Papa taught me something, it's that there's nothing more important than family in the universe. I know they'd do anything at all for each other, for Rose, for Hakon, for me... and the same is true for us with regards to them, and to you. If she cannot see that... that's her loss."

Max embraced her, mumbling quietly in a mix of German and Yiddish. While German was the language of his past, of his youth, both the good and the bad, and that was why he'd sometimes slip into that particular language, particularly with the few endearments he used to refer to those he cared for... Yiddish was the language of his heart and soul. It was his mother's tongue, the words he only spoke when sentiment overwhelmed him, and only to those he loved most (Charles, Anya and Alfdis were the only ones in the list in that moment, though it might yet grow in the future).

Max knew things weren't as simple as Anya would like to make it seem, would like to believe herself. Even if she honestly believed everything she'd said, about Magda and about Max... that did not change that she hurt. Magda was her birth-mother, and to learn what the woman was like... it had broken a dream the eldest Eisenhardt child had had for her whole life. Still, she knew she wasn't alone, she still had her sister, and her dadro, her brother, mama and papa... no, she wasn't alone at all, and she'd never be.

xXx Rose's POV xXx

"She wasn't always like that, you know?"

The comment took me so completely by surprise I actually had to do a double-take.

Magda Maximoff really had left, just barely remembering to take the two suitcases in her trunk out of the car before leaving the mansion. Raven re-entered the sitting room but seconds after she was gone and an argument had begun between the two Xavier siblings, and Max regarding what had happened, and how safe they really were if Magda knew where they were, and considering her attitude regarding mutants. Anya had offered to show the twins around the mansion, and help them choose room for themselves (connected rooms, Peter had insisted, as it would take some time for Wendy to feel safe in a new place). Usually I'd be right by my sister's side, but I didn't want to to intrude on them. They'd just discovered they were family by blood after all... even if the situation with Magda had pulled our attention enough no one seemed to be exactly focused on that part just yet.

I'd decided to take a walk to try and clear my head, trying and failing to push away all sort of what-ifs... What if I'd convinced Mama to let Charles look into Will... Anya's head when we first got to England, when her memories were still fresh? What if I'd insisted we kept looking for her birth-parents, instead of agreeing with the likelihood of us never finding them? What if I'd let Erik get close to my sister back in 1962, instead of being all over-protective? Perhaps he'd have recognized her then. Perhaps they'd have reunited before, and he wouldn't have had to spend nearly twenty years of his life believing his daughter was dead, and that it was his fault... I knew that was what Max thought, and I didn't need any telepathy for it; while I wasn't exactly an empath, I was still a Ljósálfar in many ways, picking up on emotions was as natural to me as breathing; it was part of my nature.

It was awful, like last fall all over again. When I kept wondering if I could have somehow done more to help Charles, convinced Mama to do something in '62; or even if not change something in Cuba, maybe we could have done something in the aftermath, anything... A dark corner of my mind had also pointed out that the whole reason Mama had refused to join the group was because she wanted us girls safe; reminded me that if I had been older, or hadn't been born yet, there wouldn't have been such an issue. Except, I couldn't have been older, because there's no way Mama would have had a child during the war, on in the first years after it, when so much was still up in the air; and if I hadn't existed... then who would have saved Willow? Perhaps, in the end, things were just the way they had to be, the only way they could be, and no other.

In any case, I'd been lost enough in my dark contemplation I hadn't sensed Peter before he was suddenly standing right next to me, talking.

"Excuse me?" I couldn't help but ask, not having truly registered his first words.

"My mom." He clarified. "I know that the way she acted, and the things she said... they were awful. But she wasn't always like that."

"Only since she learned you were a mutant?" I couldn't help but drawl.

"No, not really." He shook his head. "At first... at first I think it was a shock to her, but she didn't act like it was something bad. She worried about me, made me leave the track team... I was furious with her about that. But eventually I understood, I didn't have full control of my speed just yet, I'd use it without meaning to, whenever I got excited. And that was dangerous, if others had found out... it'd have been more than just me in danger." He let out a breath. "I love my sisters, you know? Both of them. And Nadya? She's human; so sweet, and kind, and she loves Wendy and me, and she doesn't care that we're different, not at all, she loves us; but she's human, she's vulnerable. If something ever happened to her..."

I understood what he felt, of course I did. It was pretty much how I felt about my own sister. So human, so fragile when compared to the rest of the family... and yet at the same time so strong. In ways that couldn't be truly measured.

"So, where are Wendy and Anya?" I asked softly.

"Getting Wendy installed." Peter answered quickly, then added. "They were having some girl-talk." He exaggerated a shiver. "I decided to run around a bit, see the place. Come meet my big sister's sister..."

It sounded almost like a play with words... though he was quite right, of course. I was his sister's sister. Wouldn't that make me his sister too? Technically... I wasn't sure why he hadn't just said that, but decided not to say anything about it. We were quite lucky he'd taken to Anya so easily, I didn't want to jinx it.

"So, where was I?" Peter asked rhetorically. "Right, mom... So at first she worried about us, and it was really that, she feared for us, rather than fearing us... Even when Wendy's powers began... at first she just made things float a bit, and Nadya would always laugh when they eventually fell. All Mom did then was put away the breakables, and tell Wendy to be careful, least she hurt herself. We somehow managed to keep it all from Rick, Nadya's father... until the day Nadya fell and broke a tooth. We didn't have money to take her to the dentist, Rick had lost his job, and there was hardly enough money for groceries..."

"It's when you began stealing." I couldn't help but say.

"Yeah? How did you know that?" He sounded honestly curious.

"Fire is one of my gifts, but not the only one I have." I admitted quietly. "I also have the Sight."

"What does that mean?" He didn't understand.

"It means I sometimes see things others don't." I explained. "I have dreams of the past, the future, or even of the present, things happening elsewhere."

I didn't explain about sometimes just knowing things, and always being able to tell when anyone tried to lie to me, or when they were hiding things from me... there was no need to go into such details, and I doubted he actually cared.

"Oh..." He nodded, then went back to his own story. "So, Wendy I were trying to distract Nadya, so she wouldn't think about the pain. When Rick went in, shocking us all. Wendy dropped everything instantly, and one of the objects fell on Rick's foot. He was furious. I don't think he actually meant to hit Wendy, not really, he began yelling at us, and she moved to pull Nadya away from him, just in case, and suddenly he hit her... Wendy just snapped. An explosion happened. Rick was the one hurt the worst, he literally went flying down the hall and down half the stairs. I crashed against a wall, while Nadya was pushed back too... though she was close enough to Wendy's bed it wasn't so bad for her." He let out a breath. "Rick left the next day, muttering about us being the devil's children and who-knows-what-else. Mom tried to demand explanations only once, but when she got too close, Wendy got spooked, and there was another explosion. It was very small, hardly anything dangerous, though it made Mom realize she'd been the one to cause the other one too. And it was then she began fearing Wendy..."

I nodded, I had to admit it wasn't exactly an unreasonable reaction (though that still didn't justify Magda, or anyone at all, purposefully drugging their own child...).

"How did your parents react, when you first got your powers?" Peter asked, intrigued.

"It was a bit of a shock, I think." I admitted, thoughtfully. "I had my first precognitive dream when I was five... it was about the fire in the hostel, where Anya would have died..." I shook my head. "I managed to convince them to drive all the way there, from where we were staying for our vacation. We got there just in time."

"Your first vision, was about her?" Peter asked in shock.

"Yes." I nodded.

"And you went to save her." He murmured. "You went into a burning building."

"Pretty much." I agreed, not seeing the point in lying.

"What about fire?" He asked suddenly. "Did you know you could control it?"

"Not at all." I admitted quietly. "I'd always been fascinated by it, of course. I had candles on every surface in my room... but no, I didn't know I had any power over it until I went into that building and the flames did nothing to me."

I could see Peter fighting to process that. The fact that I'd willingly gone into a burning building, for Anya, not knowing if I'd even survive... and at age five too! Of course, on hindsight it was absolute insanity, I could see why Mama had been nearly hysterical when we got out. But in that moment I'd been unable to think about anything that weren't my would-be-sister, saving her. She'd been my entire focus.

"And then you got her out, and your parents adopted her, just like that." Peter went on.

"Just like that." I nodded. "They have friends in high places. Which helped a lot, especially if you consider that they couldn't tell anyone where exactly they'd found Anya, we'd have never been able to explain what had happened in that village, or how she didn't die in that fire..."

"I still think it's insane." Peter shook his head. "And your folks just accepted it all..."

"To be fair, Mama and Papa are pretty used to freaky things happening." I admitted with a light shrug. "They're both gifted themselves. Mama is empathic and Papa can manipulate ice." I gave him the basic gifts, the ones Charles knew about. "They always knew it was highly probable that I'd have a gift of some sort."

"Wait." He said suddenly. "So your father is ice, and you're fire? How does that even work?"

"No idea." I deadpanned.

I really didn't. Mama herself had a hard time calling on fire-magic, and earth wasn't exactly easy either. Papa was Jotun, which meant that he not only could manipulate ice, it pretty much was in his very blood... bottom line, I hadn't the slightest idea where the fire came from. Most of the time I didn't actually think about it. Things were what they were, and I didn't achieve anything questioning them. Still, no one could deny it was insane.

xXx

The students arrived the next month. Everything was ready. Wendy had become used enough to the Institute by then, and while she still spoke very little, and for actual conversations she still preferred to use her powers to talk into other people's minds, she was happy there. Also, she, Peter and the students who were considered wards of the Institute took it upon themselves to show everyone else around. It gave them all a sense of achievement.

We were as ready as we were ever likely to be. Hank taught Physics and Chemistry (and kept inventing new things on his -little- free time); Raven had Philosophy and Literature (she was incredibly good at both, and the youngest students loved it when she did voices); a woman called Petra Kristinsin (former foster-child and geokinetic) taught Mathematics and Home Economics; Suzanne Chan (chronokinetic and with the gift of post-cognition) taught History; Sean handled Geography (as well as entertained the children sometimes with all his knowledge about comics); Max dealt with languages (he was good at them, able to sound like a native with little effort) and mechanics to the older students who might be interested; Anya gave Art classes, covered the Psychology requirement for High-school level students, and was the Psychologist on campus; I taught some Music classes, as part of the requirements for High-School, and to the younger students who might be interested, and was also the nurse in charge; Charles handled Biology as well as Ethics; finally, Alex and a newly returned (reformed) Darwin were in charge of Phys-Ed and basic training for the children just beginning to manifest (we all took turns dealing with more specialized training, depending on the child's ability, and our own).

It wasn't all perfect. A few of the students saw their abilities as a curse rather than a gift, there were even some who insisted on wanting to be 'cured', and it hurt me whenever I saw a child's skin marked, evidence of the violence visited on them, for things they hadn't chosen, for being born different... I knew it wasn't easy for Charles or Anya either, the ones who ended listening to those children the most. But we kept trying, doing our best to help them, we refused to give up. A few more children ended in the custody of the Institute in the following months, and we also made arrangements to keep a close eye on those families who might have been violent at first, but showed sings of being willing to accept their children.

It didn't take long for the X-Men to be needed either. As it turned out, Bolivar Trask was in prison, but William Stryker had gotten away with little more than a slap on his wrist (there were rumors that his father had called in a lot of favors for that); supposedly he'd just been 'following orders'... Max had growled at that, I could only wince.

We didn't actually know for sure, if Stryker had anything to do with it, but the CIA had picked up on chatter about a place where 'enhanced' were being kept 'secured'. Following the agreements made in Paris, the X-Men had immediately been notified.

"Why can't I go?" Peter wanted to know as were getting ready to leave.

"You ask why 'you' can't go?" I wanted to clarify. "What about your sister?"

"No way!" He cried out immediately. "She's too young for that!"

I just arched a brow at him, waiting for him to process exactly what he'd just said... they were twins after all.

"No fair! Using my words against me." He pouted, making me laugh.

"Doesn't make it any less true." I pointed out calmly. "We're all adults and... yes, I know you're eighteen, that wasn't actually my point." I didn't let him interrupt me. "We have experience with this sort of thing. We have training none of you do. Even if you've pretty much mastered your ability. It's very different to run around just because you want to, than when you are evading bullets, explosions, and a lot of other stuff... never mind the actual mission."

"How do you do it?" He asked, suddenly very serious. "Face danger, face death, like it's nothing at all. Like you're not afraid."

"Oh but it is something, certainly." I replied, honestly. "And I'm very much afraid, but... I think I'm more afraid of what might happen if I don't try..." I shook my head. "Now, since Charles is coming along with us in this one, and Anya will be on comms; you and Wendy, as the oldest of the children, will be in charge."

It was a big place we were going into, so much Petra and Suzanne had agreed to assist us on the mission, even though they hadn't technically signed up to be X-Men (they had amazing powers, but Petra didn't trust her own in the kind of missions we might have, most of the time; while Suzanne claimed she'd seen enough death and needed no more).

It was a mess, in more ways than we could have ever imagined possible. There were no humans in the facility, not even guards, which actually made us grow complacent... we should have known better. We split: Havok, Darwin, Petra and Banshee in one, Mystique, Beast and Sway (Suzanne) in another, and finally Professor X, Magneto and myself. The second team were the first to find anything, they got the files... they were bad. It only got worse when the first team found the cages (because they couldn't be called anything other than that). Half of those inside were dead already, and most hadn't actually died due to any sorts of experiments... no, they'd died of thirst, and hunger. The base was pretty much abandoned, and the mutants had been left there to die... I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it, had had no clue, no visions, nothing at all.

And then there was a loud crash, a warning scream from Charles that came almost too late, and a huge behemoth burst from beneath our feet.

"*Sentinel!*" He practically roared, both inside our minds and out-loud.

"This place is a trap!" It was impossible to tell who exactly said it, though we could all see it was the truth. The whole facility was a trap.

Soon we were all running. It only got worse when Petra, using her powers to try and stop one of the Sentinels, destroyed the ground beneath our feet enough that Charles could no longer move his chair across it. I could almost hear Max cursing the moment he'd agreed to bring the telepath along; we'd known something like that could happen. But the prospect of Stryker, or someone else like him, being in the base had made us decide to risk it.

"Take him!" I ordered suddenly. "I'll cover your backs!"

He didn't hesitate. In an instant, and ignoring Charles protests, Max had scooped him out of the chair, before sending it flying against the nearest Sentinel almost as an after thought; I followed after them, lighting all I found on my path on fire; it wasn't enough to take down the huge machines, but it was giving us some time.

We were the ones deepest into the facility, and while the fact that we weren't meeting any of the others meant at least that they were closer to getting out, it also meant that we had to deal with the consequences of their fights, the destruction caused mostly by Havok and Petra, though the others weren't exactly pushovers either.

"The rest are out." Charles announced at some point. "Moira and Lt. Serrure are helping them with the rescued hostages..."

Because, with it being the first mission the X-Men had, while allied with the government, they'd insisted on tagging along, even if they stayed in the jet while we went in. It still sounded odd to me, to hear others calling Hakon with such words: Lieutenant Serrure... yet it was necessary, and we all knew it. Also, Charles didn't know Hakon as well as he knew Anya and I, or even our Mama and Papa; hadn't been as close to him.

Charles was so focused on whatever it was the others were telling him, and Max's full attention was on the ground just before him, as he placed his feet carefully, not wanting to risk falling, or worse, dropping Charles. It was enough that neither of them noticed the huge rock falling their way. It was partially my fault, one of my bursts of fire had apparently caught something a lot more flammable than paper, wood and random debris; explosions had been rocking the facility for the last seconds, each one bigger than the last. One was enough to dislodge the piece of cement from the ceiling, and straight in the direction of Max and Charles.

There wasn't even time to scream, all I could do was jump and use all my strength to push them as far as possible. I knew they'd fall, Charles would probably be hurt, but at least they wouldn't be crushed... it was in the fraction of a second before impact, that I sensed the fire coming our way, the worst explosion of all was going to swallow everything... and I wasn't going to be able to stop that fire, not with what was already coming my way.

"HAKON!" I screamed my brother's name at the top of my lungs.

xXx

I woke up to the mother of all headaches... then again, that wasn't exactly surprising, considering that the last thing I could remember was a veritable boulder hitting the back of my head. In fact, if I was completely honest, I was surprised it hadn't been worse.

"Worse?!" I heard a voice from my bedside. "You nearly died! You would have if... if..."

Charles broke off abruptly, spinning his chair around and rolling away. Leaving me blinking at his back, not quite understanding what had just happened.

"You really scared him." Max informed me, and I couldn't believe I hadn't seen him standing right then. "You scared all of us. When we saw you laying there, and with the fire coming..."

The reminder made me startle, which only exacerbated the pounding in my head, forcing a groan to escape me.

"You're really lucky, you know?" He murmured, offering me some pills and a glass of water. "I think anyone else would have died."

Which, as far as I was concerned, only proved I'd been right to do what I did. And while Max might not have been a telepath, it was obvious he could read my thoughts on my face.

"No, that doesn't make your actions right." He retorted. "You think I don't know who that rock would have hit if you hadn't intervened? Why would you think your life's worth any less than Charles's or my own?"

I just shrugged. Couldn't exactly tell him what I was thinking. How the world didn't need me, not in the way it needed him and Charles... the things I'd seen.

"You might not be my child by birth, but by God that you've become as good as in the last months." He went on, his voice turning almost watery. "Do you know what it'd have done to me if you had died? And protecting me? What it would have done to Charles? To Anya?!"

That hit a sore spot in my soul. I couldn't begin to imagine what she must have felt, just like I refused to contemplate how it might feel if I were to ever lose her...

"You need to take better care of yourself, kleyn-blum (little-flower)..." He murmured, running a hand down my cheek. "Now rest, recover. I'll let the others know you're alright."

"Thank you, tate (pops)." I murmured back, not quite noticing when the word slipped.

Still, I didn't regret it. Papa was still my Papa, but just like I could have several siblings, I could also believe I could have more than two parents; there need not be a limit on the number of people I got to call family. And why should there be one? I loved them all the same.

xXx

Several hours (at least) had passed when I next woke up. A light mental touch from Charles told me that it was morning, he was teaching a class (as was pretty much everyone else), he wasn't exactly happy with me, but neither was he as upset as he'd been when I'd first woken. Much as he might not like it, he'd come to accept that I'd the right to choose what I did with my own life (even if I happened to make choices he didn't like).

Knowing I'd most likely be left alone at least until the end of the class, I took my time getting off the bed. I was much better than the previous time I'd woken, my head still hurt, but only a little. Touching the back of my head I found a small scar and nothing more.

I took a bath, and then found my way to the cushioned bench beneath my main window, it had a perfect view of the gardens my sister had restored (hence why I'd chosen that room, and to have the bench placed right there). I was brushing my hair when I heard my door open quietly. I half turned, never stopping the motions with the brush, expecting to find Anya, or perhaps Max or Charles at the door. It was neither of them, it was one person I hadn't expected to see there:

"Peter?" I inquired, curious about his presence there. "Como to visit your sister?"

I said it in jest. He was looking at me oddly, so intensely, as if he were trying to read something in my face or my body, to divine an answer to a question he hadn't yet asked. I didn't understand, no one had ever looked at me like that.

"You're not my sister." He said, words precise and hard. "You'll never be my sister."

He was gone in the next second, and I was left sitting there, brush in hand, looking at the spot where he'd stood. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. So, he didn't see me as a sister, there was nothing wrong with that, not like I was trying to force him or anything. In fact, if I was quite honest with myself (which I tried my best to be), while I cared greatly for Wendy, saw her like a little sister... I couldn't see him as a brother. I wasn't sure why, I wasn't sure, until I saw him again in my mind's eye, the way he'd been looking at me, and then it dawned on me, with the flash of a multicolor ribbon spinning around... I was in love with him. Had been from the very first time I'd laid eyes on him, in my dreams... Hell...

Chapter Text

Red Rose

Love is Desire, it's Respect, it's Courage and Passion... it's Everything.

Eventually I learned what had happened after my loss of consciousness during our mission to that facility in Colorado. How Hakon had outed himself as gifted, calling on ice to push back the fire that would have killed us all otherwise. Moira had agreed to keep the information to herself, and at Charles's and Max's insistence no one had pressed him to explain why he'd kept his status hidden, or why he wouldn't join the X-Men.

I also realized that I owed my quick recovery (and quite possibly my survival) to a certain blessed bracelet... the spells Papa and Mama had placed on it, to keep me safe had intervened in the exact moment. I had a feeling I'd also pretty much drained said spells, but had no way of knowing for sure, since I wasn't a spell-weaver myself, I had very little time to go looking for my parents (and even if I'd had the time, the last thing I wanted was to explain to them why exactly the spells had been drained... or why I thought they might have... they already feared for me, no need to make things worse). So I decided to put it off, just for a while.

Music classes resumed on Monday, and I got an influx of students approaching me, telling me how happy they were that I was alright. There was one child in particular, a little girl with bird-wings instead of arms, and what looked like feathers mixed in with her honey-colored hair. She had trouble speaking, since her vocal chords had been damaged by 'doctors' in the facility; as one of her abilities was to sing, and through her song, whoever heard her would forget everything, (first what they were doing at the time, and later on more and more, until they eventually forgot themselves and died). Curiously, according to what some of the other children who'd been rescued, her song only ever affected humans, not mutants. Mutants were soothed and comforted by her songs instead. And she could no longer sing...

I wouldn't know why I took to her precisely. I gave her the name of Sirin, since her abilities reminded me so much of the creatures of Russian legends (and the implications were less dark than with the Greek sirens). It took months but eventually she was capable of moving carefully and with enough dexterity to use the end of her wings almost as one would hands (she could hold things and feed herself). Anya got her a dizi, made of bamboo (probably remembering Mama and her love of Nightingales), and while it wasn't singing, creating music seemed to bring her great joy. She would never be who she had been, could have been, without Stryker and his ilk, but she would survive, and thrive...

With regards to Peter... nothing happened. I got along with Wendy far better than I did with him, partly because she couldn't hurt me, therefore I was her tutor when it came to training her gifts (Peter didn't need anyone, not really). She had quickly accepted both Anya and I as family, and Max as her dad. It was quite obvious she was love-starved, and it hurt, especially when she acted much younger than her age, like a child needed her daddy... Still, none of us ever commented on it, just giving her what she needed.

I thought about my realization regarding Peter every now and again, the fact that in ever vision I had of him, I seemed to be looking at him through a multi-color lens, and then there was the chord, in a mix of every color of the rainbow. I couldn't believe it was possible... in fact, the most logical part of my mind kept insisting it couldn't be, I couldn't love a boy five years my junior, and most of all, someone whom I didn't even know! I especially couldn't have fallen in love with him before actually meeting him, when seeing him just through dreams. It was insane!

The only example I had to compare it to, was Mama and Papa, and they'd known each other for years before knowing they were in love, that they were a match... then again, they'd met when Mama was just eleven, and there was just no way that a child that age would have been able to comprehend what a match even was... and seeing how she was a reincarnation, they'd technically been a match even before she was born in her current life... so maybe that one shouldn't count. I'd no idea how long Charles and Erik had known each other before becoming a match. Bottom line, I'd no idea what was going on, except that I had to be insane, there was simply no other possible explanation for my situation.

The first year of the re-opened Institute went quite well (not without a hitch, but nothing serious), and by the time the majority of the students went back home for their Summer Break in '74, we had a waiting list for many more who would be joining us in the Fall (which also made necessary to get more teachers, soon one person per topic just wasn't going to be enough... especially when students in such varying age groups).

Then, the one thing I could have never expected to happen: Destiny arrived to the mansion. I was there when she arrived, and began noticing things I'd somehow missed during our first meeting. Like the fact that she was young, younger than I even (and I was just 25... she couldn't have been more than 20-21. And though her face looked young, there was something in her eyes, like she'd witnessed enough pain and tragedy to age her, like she was an old soul (and knowing she was like me, one with the Sight, it didn't really surprise me).

She told Charles and Max that she was tired of living on the fringes, of 'watching' life pass her by, she wanted to live. She was also quite interested in teaching History, and possibly Philosophy. Our two leaders believed her, they'd no reason not to, and soon Destiny, whose birth-name was actually Irene Adler, had joined our growing community. I though, knew that while she might not have lied, what she'd told Charles and Max couldn't have possibly been the whole truth. I was proven right when she went looking for me.

We met on a bench, in the farthest corner of the garden, beneath a jacaranda tree, in order to have some semblance of privacy. I'd explicitly asked Charles to stay away for a while, he thought that as two women with the same gift we wanted to talk about something we might have seen, and he'd enough respect for me to abide to my wishes.

"So, why did you decide to really come?" I asked Destiny with no preamble.

"It feels odd, you know?" She commented, apropos of nothing. "To be surrounded by people, to be part of the ripples that alter the tide, rather than just observing from the riverside."

I rolled my eyes at her metaphor but didn't interrupt her, letting her explain things her own way; I'd enough experience with having trouble finding the right words to say something...

"I know most mutants nowadays are born with a potential for gifts, though those don't manifest until they're in puberty or later even..." She explained quietly. "Like how Charles Xavier gained his telepathy when he was nine, Erik Lehnsherr when he was thirteen, though it was nothing considerable until he was fourteen and his desire to stay with his parents pushed him to his limits for the first time... even you, different as you might be in many ways to us, you were not born with your abilities, did not develop them until you were five. Me... I cannot remember a time when I couldn't see... or when I wasn't blind to the physical world. I know things to be a certain way, shapes and colors... and yet I've never seen them. I don't know what a square really looks like, or the color blue... I understand things in different ways..."

I nodded. Even if she couldn't see me, I knew she'd realize what I'd done, it was part of being what we were. The gift we shared...

"You know what a match is." She said suddenly.

I tensed automatically, unable to help myself.

"All my life I've known who my match was meant to be." She went on. "I've seen her grow up, face trials that would have taken down lesser individuals, have seen her become so amazing, so beautiful... so perfect. And through it all, I always knew it'd never be. That our potential would never be realized. Through all the possible paths the future could take, there was never one where we might meet... at least not before many years, by which I'd have already been quite old."

For several seconds she said nothing, but I could sense it, the way the emotions rushed through her, when she went from nostalgic to full of so much hope and... love.

"And then everything changed." She added, very quietly. "You changed everything. You, and Charles and Max... you've turned the future into something I'd never seen, something I could have never imagined. And now, for the first time I have a chance... you did that. You gave me that. Gave me the chance to be with my One True Love, in this life, rather than whatever might come after." She threw herself at me unexpectedly, embracing me tightly. "Thank you..."

She'd never mentioned Peter, but what she'd said in the end was enough, I could read between the lines just fine. Having the Sight had enabled her to see her match, to know her, long before ever meeting her. She'd just known they were meant for each other. Seeing things from that point of view, perhaps it wasn't that surprising to find myself in love with Peter, to realize I'd loved him from the very first vision I'd had of him. It was like love at first sight, only it was so much more than that at the same time. My Sight had allowed me to see something I probably wouldn't have until much later, otherwise... I still wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing...

Even then I didn't do anything to change things, not really. I might have accepted the potential the two of us had, but that didn't mean anything to anyone else. Also, Peter was six years younger than me, barely nineteen, he probably wasn't ready to face such a prospect. So I said nothing about it, and just tried to be a friend to him (at least I knew he'd never see me as a sister... that was a step in the right direction, all things considered).

xXx

There was another event of great importance that took place in that year. My sister: Willow Anya Serrure Eisenhardt, got married. The groom was Johann Reynolds, veteran from the Vietnam War and a friend of both Alex and Hakon... he was also the son of one of the Howling Commandos, and completely human. Even then, he was no stranger to mutants, as his little sister was one herself, with the power to force-bloom plants, she was called Vera, though most mutants referred to her as Spring. He was a good man and even Max approved of him (a great shock, considering his status as a human... but then again, Max was not the man Erik had been, much as he might be the same person, accepting the fact that his daughter was human had helped him also accept the fact that not all humans were evil, just like not all mutants were good).

The wedding was also the first time either of us had seen Mama and Papa since leaving for the Institute three years earlier. There had been phone-calls, many of them, but it just wasn't the same. The hard part, was not being able to acknowledge them as family, aside from a private meeting Charles arranged for us before the actual ceremony. Papa used most of that time to warn Johann (quite creatively) of what exactly would happen to him if he ever hurt my sister... of course, considering who Johann's other father-in-law was, Papa wasn't able to scare him quite as much as he'd have liked (after managing to survive the first serious talk with Max, Johann was unlikely to be easily scared).

1976 was another eventful year. First Hakon retired from the military. He'd held the rank of Colonel for the previous two years, and had served a total of twenty, but he just couldn't do it anymore. Not because he didn't want to, because he all knew he did, he actually liked being a military man... but he just wasn't aging anymore. He was forty years old and still looked like he was in his late twenties to early thirties. He might have been able to pull a few more years, five at most. But that was it, and when his superiors had given him an out he'd decided to take it, rather than risk someone finding out the truth.

In the Fall, Anya gave birth to her first-born. A boy whom she and Johann chose to name Django Maximilian, in honor of Anya's Romani heritage, and a bit for Max as well. He was a beautiful boy, with light-brown hair with the slightest hint of auburn (only noticed under the sun) and green eyes with the slightest hint of steel-gray... he was also 100% human. While, granted, both his parents had been, there had been the chance of the mutant gene skipping a generation (Anya) or something, such hadn't been the case. No one minded, everyone in the family (and the Institute as a whole) loved the little boy to pieces.

I was perhaps the only one not surprised in the slightest when Irene and Raven 'came out' as a couple. It was completely accidental, it'd started with something Kurt had said about Anya and I having more than one father, and him having two moms... I knew from the start what he'd meant, but the rest didn't realize until weeks later, when Peter and I had agreed to play hide and seek with Kurt and some of the other younger students. Peter took it personal when Kurt kept using his teleportation to evade him, and in his rush to catch the boy before he could 'skip' again, went into a room without knocking first, not realizing the two women were inside, pretty much making out.

I was happy for Irene, for both of them really. Everyone deserved to have their match. Much as I might not acknowledge it, their relationship gave me hope, that one day Peter and I might get to that point. We were very good friends, had been almost from the start... yet nothing more.

We actually did go on several dates, on the later half of the decade, but they were never anything serious. I didn't know if Peter simply wasn't ready for a serious commitment, or if it was me he wasn't interested in (and while a part of me insisted that such wasn't possible, he was my match, after all, I just couldn't be sure).

Years kept passing, and life was good. Johann and Anya loved each other dearly, and he helped around at the school both as a handyman, and assisting with security measures when it was necessary. He got along great with all the kids. He and Anya also helped whenever one of the students began to think humans would never understand them, especially those who had been abused by their human families. Johann had said more than once that if they weren't all already living in the Institute he'd no idea how he'd be able to deal with it, because there was just no way he would have been able to let those kids go!

xXx

Meeting Tony Stark was an interesting experience. I'd known him as a baby, of course, but with Uncle Howard choosing to move to Malibu, California permanently, and us staying in New York (well, at least when Willow and I weren't in Dartmouth), we hadn't seen each other much. Then, of course, we'd left for Westchester, changed our names... an the most contact I'd had with Uncle Howard were letters every six months, keeping up with his donations to the Institute (which I handled personally) and a private call once or twice a year.

The first time I saw Tony as more than an infant was in 1980, he'd just turned ten, and already he was obviously a genius. It was obvious soon enough that he'd found something in his father's office, papers of some kind, that had pointed him in the direction of the Institute, made him curious enough to decide to visit (the family was spending the summer in the NY mansion, it seemed. Though only Jarvis knew where he'd gone.

He didn't recognize me when we met, nor did he know Willow. I had to remind myself that that was a good thing. I didn't want to imagine how I'd ever be able to explain to a child why he could not tell anyone that we were technically cousins... besides, how do you explain a child that you denying him, your connection, isn't his fault? So yes, definitely better that way.

"I'm here to see Uncle Charles." The boy announced with a seriousness that looked... off, in someone so young.

I lead him to the study, all the while wondering when exactly those two had met...

*I met Tony shortly after he was born.* Charles informed me telepathically. *Howard worked with my father, back in the late 30s... Howard was just beginning, in fact. He was a bit of an uncle to me, when I was a child, before Oxford, before...*

*Before Uncle Howard became obsessed with finding Captain America.* I finished for him.

I could feel the nod inside our minds.

*It's tradition in certain circles, to send out announcements when the heir of the family is born.* Charles elaborated. *My parents did it for me, as dis Tony's... I actually wish I could have done more for him... it's quite obvious that Tony is a brilliant boy, but he's so lonely...*

It was true, I could sense it in Tony the moment I laid eyes on him. I had no idea what was going on with Uncle Howard and Aunt Maria, and it made me sad (I also had no idea, where the hell were Mama and Papa?! Hadn't they seen Tony?!).

We reached the study and I left Tony to talk privately with Charles and Max. I never knew what was said exactly, though according to Max, Tony knew exactly who he was, and had promised not to say anything about it, he'd also been there to offer his help to Charles, with anything he might need. The boy understood about mutants, had suspected about the school even before arriving, and was willing to do anything to aid us... Max also believed that the boy had wanted to ask to be allowed to attend, but didn't dare to, either he feared rejection, or he just didn't want to risk his father getting too close to the school, knowing as he did Howard's very public opinion regarding those not-quite-human (and he obviously didn't know about our secret letters, or the anonymous donations... and much as it might pain me, it'd have to stay that way).

Tony stayed in contact with Charles and Max afterwards, though he didn't visit again for years. And regardless of how much Charles might want to help him, he knew the risks of calling the attention of Howard to the school (or he thought he did, at least), and so he stayed away, Tony's uncle, and nothing more. Perhaps in the future that might change, or at least that I told myself. That a day would come when mutants would be known publicly, and accepted, when Howard would no longer have to keep his true opinions a secret and Charles would find out the truth behind his old 'uncle's' comments; when Tony would no longer be a lonely child. I wanted to believe that, I really did, yet deep down I knew, instinctively, most of that would never be...

xXx

Tragedy struck in 1982, while he was on his way back from buying some supplies in Salem, Johann's car was hit by another. Drunk driver, the police told us when they arrived to notify us of what had happened. Johann was dead, he'd been declared DOS... Anya was devastated, less than a decade together, and already she'd lost Johann.

"You don't understand Rose..." She told me (she was the only one to still call me that, for anyone else I was Miss Alfdis, or Chaos... "I know you care about Peter. I know you believe he's your match and everything... but you're not together. So you cannot possibly know what it feels like to lose that person. The love of your existence... I feel like I can't breathe!"

I knew she was in pain, so much pain I couldn't fully comprehend, even with my Ljósálfar gifts; so I didn't take her comments about Peter personally... also, I knew she was right. I cared for Peter, but I couldn't really say I loved him, we weren't together. We'd kissed a couple of times, yeah, but nothing serious. And we certainly weren't in a relationship. My sister was right that I'd no idea what it was like to lose the love of my life... even then, that wouldn't stop me from doing my very best to help her.

"I know I cannot possibly understand what you're going through, not really." I told her softly. "Though I do know you're in pain, because I can feel it inside. I cannot make you to stop hurting, and even if I could, I probably wouldn't. It wouldn't be right. Because even pain exists for a reason." I let out a breath. "You need to know, that it's alright for you to feel this pain, to mourn him. But you must never forget, that you're not alone. You have me, and Max, and Charles, and the twins, and Raven... and even Hakon, Mama and Papa, I know they will come if you really need them. We're all here for you, and for Django as well. Never forget that." I made a pause before adding. "Also, you need to remember, that as hard as it might be to see beyond it, death isn't the end. You and Johann will meet each other again."

"Do you really believe that?" She asked me, so very softly.

"With all my heart, I do." I agreed.

They were words I would have to remind myself of, one day...

Anya did mourn and did manage to move on, something that was made both easier and harder when eight months later: Nina Raisa Eisenhardt-Reynolds was born. The name Nina had been Johann's choice, in case they ever had a girl, and Raisa... that was the Yiddish word for 'rose'... I loved that little girl from the day she born, my dear niece. I promised myself to love her with all my heart, something I intended to do, though it wasn't easy.

The Winter of 1983 hit us all hard, harder than any before in Westchester. Anya, who hadn't yet fully recovered from Nina's birth, months earlier, fell sick. At first it seemed to just be a cold, only she kept getting worse, when she should have gotten better. No matter how many days passed, all the things we tried, nothing seemed to work. And even the things that seemed to work, making her a bit better for a few days, they didn't last long. A doctor in New York eventually told us why it was so bad... apparently Anya had more long term effects from the fire that had almost claimed her life at age five than any of us ever knew; her face, shoulder and arm weren't the only parts of her that carried the scars... so did her lungs.

As a last resource we called Mama. Papa drove her straight to Westchester from wherever they might have been at the time (there were whispers, about agencies like the SSR, the believed-to-be-defunct Division X, and other sub-divisions of certain government agencies banding together to create a new one... though nothing had actually happened just yet). There was nothing Mama could do in the end...

"I'm no doctor." She tried to explain to the family. "This kind of delicate work... it's the same reason why I could have never healed Charles's spine."

That part, at least, caught everyone by surprise, it'd never occurred to them (it had occurred to me, and I knew about delicate work... but I'd still hoped).

"Also, it's been so long." Mama went on.

"But you can heal!" Max insisted, voice tinted with despair.

"I can, but it's not perfect, it's not absolute." Mama tried to explain, even through her own tears. "What I do is heal, not cure. I cannot undo damage. I can coax the tissue into getting better faster, and even that is hard sometimes, and can be dangerous. If I do too much, too fast, I risk having the person go into shock. Their bodies unable to deal with the change... But in Willow's case... I healed everything I could when we found her. I truly went to the limit of what my gift could do, and what she could take."

"And couldn't you have done more, later on?" Peter demanded, testily.

"I honestly don't know." Mama admitted. "I've never been in that kind of situation. And also... I cannot heal something I don't know is there. None of us knew her lungs had suffered such damage. So even if I'd used my powers on her more later on, enough to erase the scars on her body, it wouldn't have changed anything for her lungs. I... I cannot work miracles, and I especially cannot heal what I don't know is wrong!"

She burst into tears fully then. I couldn't believe I had forgotten, that as much as Anya might be my sister, she was still Mama's daughter. I might have been the one to bring Willow into our family, but it was Mama who pulled the little girl into her arms and offered her an official, permanent place into our family. She'd said, more than once, that she loved Will like she was of her own flesh and blood, and that would never change... it wasn't just I losing her (not even just I, Max, Charles and the twins...), we all were. We were all hurting just the same.

A part of me had always known I would lose Anya one day. Or perhaps not always, a child has hardly a concept of death, unless they've been forced to live through it, they're blessedly innocent. But still, I'd known for many years that I couldn't keep my sister forever, she was human in every way, in ways I would never be. She was mortal, she would die. At some point (during my teenage years) I'd actually entertained the thought of finding a way to get her one of Idunn's apples, so she would be immortal (or as good as), just like me, like our parents. I pushed aside that idea when I grew up and realized that immortality wasn't as simple as stories made it seem. Not anyone was capable of living such an existence, and not just because they were mortal, most people simply couldn't process the idea of eternity, of living it; of living thousands of years... I actually understood it after reading the 'Lord of the Rings'. The author called death 'the gift of men', their chance to be done with life, with its challenges and pain, to rest, to move on to something better, to true peace. And while some souls might be reincarnated, particularly those whose souls called to something they couldn't find on the other side, truth was that most didn't return. Which meant that whatever was on the Other Side, it couldn't be that bad, right? Peace sounded alright, and it was definitely something my sister deserved. She'd earned it.

So we did our best to make her comfortable, promised her time and again to look after her children, both Django and Nina, to do our best for them. There were days when I couldn't help but think that she was comforting us even more than we did her.

"I'm not afraid of death, Rosie." She finally told me one day. "Why would I be? I'm gonna see my Johann again. And there, we'll both get the chance to watch over you all, wait for you to join us." Her eyes narrowed at me. "Which better not happen in a very, very long time, you hear me?"

"I hear you." I answered automatically, a part of me still processing what she'd just said. My sister was such a brave woman...

Then, near the end of the summer of 1984, just three weeks after Nina's first birthday (and a week after Tony's visit, when we'd all celebrated his getting into MIT), my sister, Willow Anya Serrure-Eisenhardt-Reynolds, died...

xXx

I slept with Peter exactly once. It had been a busy year; Django was nine, Nina was two, and while we all did our best to be there for the children, it hadn't been easy. I'd heard before people saying how children could be cruel, and that was no less true for mutant children. Django had gotten into a few fights when other children had said tactless things, about him, about his parents, even about his little sister. Kurt had actually had to get him out of a couple of them, when the other children began using their gifts (something we were all quite upset about, and they'd been punished for). Kurt was 21, and while he still had his mom (and someone who was as good as a second mother), and he couldn't actually remember his dad (except for when his mom would shift into him, so he'd know what he'd looked like), he still had lost a parent, he still remembered how her mom had been, the years after losing him. Raven might love Irene dearly, but that didn't mean she hadn't cared about Azazel, even if they hadn't been a match, they'd been good together.

So, Kurt understood that it wasn't easy for Django to deal with things, having both of his parents gone. It didn't matter how much his aunts and uncles and his grandfather might love him, the boy was always going to miss his parents.

The one thing Kurt missed, was how much Django hated that his cousin had had to 'save' him twice, how much being human put him at a disadvantage. It wasn't like he'd anything against mutants, and not just because practically every single member of his remaining family was counted among their numbers, but it still made him feel utterly useless, if he wasn't even able to take care of himself... how was he supposed to take care of his little sister? And what kind of big brother was he if he couldn't even do that?!

Yarzheit (Anniversary of death) hit us all hard. While I wasn't Jewish, and Max didn't exactly practice the religion (neither had Anya, for the most part), Johann had been a devote Jewish; and there were some aspects of it we all tried to hold onto, if mostly for the memories it brought (like the lighting of the menorah...). Yarzheit had seemed important, somehow; especially since Anya had done it for Johann, and Django had insisted on continuing that even with her gone. So we got the candle and gathered the night before the anniversary.

No one interrupted us through the day (it wouldn't have surprised me if the whole school had known what was going on). We were all there: Max, Charles, Django, Nina, Peter, Wendy, even Magda and Nadya had dropped by exclusively for that.

We ended the event with a family dinner, after barely eating anything for the 24 hours of the Yarzheit (not the full fast some might do, but still). Even the dinner was no party, just something private and quiet. Even Magda held back from making any disparaging remarks to or about her former husband, in deference to Anya's memory.

It hard to deal with it, the fact that, in the end, my sister had died, and there was nothing I could do. No monster to fight, no evil to defeat. And yet, I would never regret having met her, having saved her, the twenty five years I got to have her as my sister. We'd all remember her for as long as we lived, and both Django and Nina would carry a part of her into the future, same for their father. Anya's legacy would live on. And perhaps... perhaps one day, whether it was in a few years, or several millennia, perhaps we might meet again, on the Other Side...

After the 24-hour long vigil it'd probably come as no surprise how almost everyone slept until quite late the following morning. I wasn't one such person. Even on the best of days I could be an insomniac, and that was definitely not one of the best days.

I had no classes to teach that particular day, so I took to wandering through the mostly empty halls. Eventually I found Peter. Sitting morosely in a corner of the Eisenhardt's favorite sitting room on the second floor (and I included the twins on that number). He had a bottle of what I had to guess was expensive scotch, and was drinking straight from it. He was more than halfway through, and yet didn't look drunk at all... no, he looked frustrated actually. After thinking it over for a minute or so I backtracked to my room, going deep into my closet and eventually managing to find what I was looking for: Asgardian mead, a gift from Aunt Sia for my graduation. I hadn't the slightest idea how she'd gotten her hands on it, exactly, seeing how they were in the past, and thus couldn't contact anyone from Asgard, or any other world where they might be recognized. Still, I'd decided not to ask.

"Damn it all!" Peter was on his way to cursing up a storm by the time I got back.

"Peter...?" I asked quietly.

"Did you know I cannot sleep?" He asked, apropos of nothing. "Most nights I only get an hour or so, and that's if I'm lucky, there are days when I don't sleep more than twenty or thirty minutes, at most. I just cannot help it, it's like my body refuses to shut down. I know I should be exhausted, should be resting, but I can't..."

"Your body is always at top speed." I murmured in understanding. "You even rest fast."

"Sort of." He shrugged.

I got it. It was pretty much how my body ran at a temperature that was one or two degrees above normal human, how I could feel even the smallest flame around me, could sense the temperature around me, how the hot didn't touch me, and neither did cold, up to a point... past a certain point it not only touched me, it hit me, hard.

"All the same, I cannot get drunk." He finished, taking another swig from his bottle for good measure (he didn't seem to even feel the burn of the alcohol).

"Would you like to try something a little stronger?" I offered, holding the bottle up.

"I doubt it'll be any different." He muttered, but extended a hand nonetheless.

I dropped to the floor beside him, uncorked the bottle and took a drink, hissing low in my throat at the burn it caused. Aside from a celebratory toast Anya and I'd had together the day after receiving our degrees, I hadn't had any. I'd decided it was just too strong (Anya hadn't liked the taste either...). Still, it seemed right to drink it in that moment. So I passed the bottle to Peter. He took a swig with the same nonchalance he'd used with the scotch, then had to put the bottle down abruptly as he began coughing.

"Strong enough?" I asked him with a smirk.

He actually grinned at me. He reminded me of Max then, with the way he seemed to have too many teeth in his mouth (I'd never seen him grin with his mouth open).

"What the hell is this?" He asked, sounding actually fascinated.

"Mead... a special recipe." I answered vaguely.

"It's awesome!" He decided, taking another swig.

We were almost halfway through the bottle, when I notice Peter's reaction time decreasing. He was finally getting drunk. So, deciding that was enough, I put the cork back and got comfortable beside him, waiting.

He babbled for a while, at times speaking at normal speeds, at times too fast to fully comprehend him. I knew he was talking about his family though, and not only Anya, but Wendy, Nadya, Max and even Magda too.

I didn't quite notice when he turned my way, yet suddenly he was kissing me. I couldn't process it, not really, and yet I didn't need to. I just let my instinct guide me and began kissing back.

Clothes were shed, and faster than it seemed possible there was nothing between us, we were skin on skin and it was absolutely perfect. It was everything I'd ever dreamed of, and more.

"I love you..." The words escaped my lips before I was fully conscious of having thought them.

I fell asleep right there, in our favorite sitting room, on the carpeted floor, behind a couch and with our clothes strewn around us, Peter's arms loosely around my body.

I woke up still naked, with my clothes carefully folded beside me... alone. I wasn't sure what was going on. I'd dreamt about Peter, again; mostly the same scenes I'd been seeing from the very beginning, still ending in the same shoot-out, with him dashing past me, and the feeling that something had just gone terribly wrong... Perhaps not the best dream to have had after what had happened earlier. And waking up alone hadn't made things any better.

In minutes I was dressed and on the look-out for my wayward lover... and just thinking about it that way made me want to flush and chuckle at myself at the same time.

It turned out that it was already afternoon, close to dinner time. By the time I found Peter there was no way to get close enough to talk to him in private. A situation that kept repeating for the rest of the week. To my confusion. I thought we'd finally... connected. I had no idea what could have possibly gone wrong.

It took me almost a full fortnight, but eventually I managed to catch him alone, taking hold of his arm before he could run away on me.

"Peter!" I called loudly. "We need to talk."

"I need to be... elsewhere." He muttered vaguely.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" I couldn't help the demanding tone, I just didn't understand what the hell was going on!

"I haven't..." He began.

"Don't lie to me!" I snapped. "What's going on Peter? I thought... that day..."

I couldn't even find the right words for it.

"It was a mistake."

And with those words, he did what nothing else could have, my blood froze in my veins.

He might have said something else, but I wasn't listening anymore, I couldn't, my mind was lost in memories. The first night I'd seen him in my dreams, the same which had visited me almost every day for the following six months, the day I'd finally met him, hearing him say he'd never see me as a sister, the realization that I was somehow, impossibly, in love with him; talking with Irene and learning that, because I had the sight, I could see my match and know him, even before having met; the playful 'dates' we'd gone on through the years, the few kisses (a couple on dares, and others as a game, or while teasing); the night in the parlor...

Suddenly it was all too much, far more than I could truly deal with. I didn't even notice when I left him standing there. Or when I made it to the music room. By the time I was back to myself (mostly) my fingers were already on the ivory keys of the huge concert piano and a melody was beginning to form, first through the piano, and then my voice added to the harmony (or chaos):

"Let's start at the end
Becoming strangers once again
Or maybe that's all we ever were
Do you know how it feels
To crave a body made of steel
To give your all for no return"

I didn't quite notice at first what it was I was saying... singing. My heart was screaming inside me, my soul was wailing, and I couldn't believe that Charles hadn't heard me yet, that he hadn't rushed to me, trying to find out what was wrong... trying to help. But perhaps the chaos inside me was simply too much for him to see through... or he knew there was nothing he could do. The pain I was feeling wasn't physical, it wasn't even mental, it was in my heart and soul, and I was the only one who could truly feel it, who could do anything about it. And so I played, and I sang:

"'Cause I've been running marathons
While you're still standing still
And I'd be anything for you
But I'll never fit the bill"

"'Cause I'm irrelevant
You'll be fine without me
And it's evident, it shows
And in your excellence
I forgot I used to have my own
You won't even notice that I'm gone"

A part of me couldn't help but remember the last time I'd been in such a state, only back then it had been easier, to a point, because they hadn't been my feelings, my pain, not really. It'd been all Charles, I'd pretty much channeled him, his memories, his feelings, as I played and sang that time. Not like in that moment, right then it was all me, my memories, my feelings, my pain...

"You consume my thoughts
I'm not sure that I'm in yours at all
Your mind is too far gone to see
The worst part of it all
Is that I desperately still want
Someone who never wanted me"

A part of me really wished Anya was there, that I had my sister to hold my hand, to hug me tight, to tell me everything was going to be alright (even if in that very second I couldn't begin to imagine how it ever could...). Another part of me, though, couldn't help but be glad, glad that she wasn't there, that she didn't have to see me like that that, suffering, crying; that she didn't have to deal with me in such a state, especially knowing her little brother of all people was the cause of my breakdown. That would have probably been too much, and I could have never put her through such a thing, pushing her to choose, between Peter and I. I probably would never know what it was I'd done wrong... was it even my fault? Was it because I told him I loved him? I'd thought we were on the same page! But maybe that had just been wishful thinking on my part... a dream I'd wished and prayed so hard for, I'd convinced something was there, even though it never was.

"'Cause you've been burning bridges while
I've been building homes
And I'm only your everything
When you feel alone"

"'Cause I'm irrelevant
You'll be fine without me
And it's evident, it shows
And in your excellence
I forgot I used to have my own
You won't even notice that I'm gone"

Or perhaps it wasn't my fault at all. Perhaps it was his. Maybe he just wasn't ready for such a commitment. He was young still... granted, I wasn't that much older than him, but I'd grown seeing bright examples of matches, mainly my parents... and then there were the stories of other couples: like Peggy and Steve, Thor and Jane, Ylva and Fenrir, and of course I'd seen Charles and Erik. But Peter... yes, he had Charles and Erik as an example too, but the one most prevalent in his mind were his parents, and his mother with Nadya's father, neither of which had worked... so maybe he didn't believe in matches, in One True Love as strongly as I did. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, and certainly not something I'd ever hold against him... I still would like to know. Not knowing, that's what was truly driving me crazy. I felt like I'd die if I didn't...

"Are the days that I'll cling to you
Throw me to the lions and start anew
And who the hell are you
For the hell you've put me through"

"But I'm irrelevant
You'll be fine without me
And it's evident, it shows
And in your excellence
I forgot I used to have my own
You won't even notice that I'm...
... gone"

I opened my eyes, not quite sure when I'd closed them, exactly, to find that I was no longer alone. Max was sitting on the piano bench, beside me. I didn't turn at him, didn't want him to see into my eyes and somehow realize what had happened, and if he didn't, I didn't want to see how he might react to the tears falling down my cheeks. Max was such a strong man, the last thing I wanted was his pity... or worse, his contempt (Deep down I knew he wouldn't do that, not to me. We were family, even if not by blood, and if Max took one thing very seriously, it was family. It was why he was there, after all).

In the end I didn't need to turn around, a nudge was all it took and suddenly I was in his arms, crying my eyes out. Everything that my song had forced me to face yet I hadn't yet expressed. He held me through it all, never saying a word; no false pleasantries, no sweet-nothings, there was no need, he just held me tight, running a hand through my hair. I never did tell him what had happened, what made me break down like that, and he didn't ask (it was probably better that way, for both of us).

xXx

Sooner than I could have expected, the time came for a new school-year to begin. We'd continued as we had back in 1973, receiving students through the first week of September, before beginning classes on the second; it gave time, for the families who were ready and willing to make the trip to do it, and allowed the students time to get settled before they had to get to work.

The eighth of September was the last day before classes began. The last student had arrived shortly after breakfast and, knowing they had the rest of the day off, the children (they were mostly teenagers, actually, but still), were quick to take the chance to play some basketball, or swim in the pond. There was laughter all around the estate, it was absolute perfect... which, of course, meant something just had to happen to ruin it.

Charles and Max were inside, having some 'private time'. It being the last day of the summer break, also meant it was the last day they had mostly to themselves (since the mansion was never truly empty, they were never completely alone, but still, they would have duties to fulfill from the next day on, and that took a lot of time, from both of them). So, by silent agreement, we tended to leave them alone for the whole day. Only taking trays of food when necessary and leaving them outside Charles's personal study (he had a public one, on the ground floor, where he saw students and families, and whoever else might have need of him; the one that connected to his bedroom held his private library, his stash of alcohol, and the chess game...).

In any case, his distraction was probably why no one realized right away that something was going on... something bad. Not at least until Gina, one of the youngest children, with the gift of psychometry rushed to where we (adults, the staff...) were drinking some lemonade, and offering glasses, as well as finger-foods that Mrs. Jenkins, the cook, had prepared, to those that approached us looking for lunch) were sitting.

"Mimmi's gone!" She cried out, near tears. "The bad men took her!"

None of us had the slightest idea of who the 'bad men' might be, but we all knew we had to act, and fast... somehow, they all turned to look at me. It probably wasn't that surprising, with Alex and Raven often gone on missions, Sean no longer living on campus (he'd moved out when he'd married Moira), and Hank always holed up in his lab, I was effectively the senior staff present.

"Kurt, Peter!" I called, forcing myself to be completely professional. "Go to where the girls were playing, see if you can find Mimmi before whoever grabbed her gets too far." With two nods, they were gone in an instant. "Suzanne, go with Gina, see if you can find out what happened exactly, who was involved; we need to know. The rest of you gather the students, do a head-count, see if anyone else is missing. The first priority will always be their safety." After making sure they were moving, I turned my focus into the house. *Charles!*

It, fortunately, didn't take long for him to respond, I forced my mind to keep things in order so he could go into it and see what had happened in the last couple of minutes. I could sense the moment his focus left me and blanketed the estate.

*Kurt and Peter succeeded.* He informed me telepathically. *Gina's the only girl they managed to grab. They tried to take Nina, weren't expecting it when Django fought back so fiercely... It took them by surprise, gave Kurt and Peter the opening to get them all.* He made a pause before adding. *Wendy apparently decided to tag along with her brother... she's taken down the helicopter they arrived in. Leaving them with no way out, at least not the one they came in...* He let out a sigh (mentally, and possibly out-loud). *I cannot believe I was so distracted I didn't realize there were intruders in the estate...*

*You were having fun Charles, we all were.* I tried to reassure him. *No one blames you. None of us saw this coming...* I shook my head, mostly to myself. *They didn't get anyone... everything is alright... or at least it will be.*

*Yes, it will.* He agreed, a hint of steel in his voice. *Be ready, they're heading your way.*

I didn't ask who he was talking about, it was quite obvious, without the chopper there was only one way out of the mansion. We'd all made sure of that... well, there were the tunnels, but no one outside those in the Institute knew about them (it was probably a good thing that the mansion had been built during a time when secret passages through homes of rich families, and to escape were common, and never on the official blue-prints... it was safer that way).

*They're lead by Stryker...* He added, almost as an afterthought.

That part did freeze me, though thankfully not for long.

Things happened very fast in the next minute or so. The teachers managed to herd the students close to the mansion. Regretfully we were nowhere close to the doors... and the soldiers were coming out of the trees, and onto the very path that would have taken us to where we needed to go, so we had no way to get the children inside (even with Peter and Kurt's help, it'd have been next to impossible).

Still, I did my best. At my order the teachers took formation around the students, with the older ones herding the younger ones to the middle (I didn't even need to tell them to do that, they did it all on their own).

Charles and Max were soon hurrying in our direction, with Max practically flying himself and Charles (in his chair) down the path to reach us faster. Everyone stopped at the sound of a gun cocking... or more like half a dozen.

*They don't yet know you're here.* I told Charles suddenly. *Don't let them see you.*

*Alfdis...* He murmured, and I wasn't sure if the tone was supposed to be a warning, or if he was just worried.

*I can handle this.* I assured him, not quite sure where I was getting my confidence from. *If they start shooting things will get real dicey, real fast.*

I knew that, deep down, he agreed with me, and while whatever he did, had no effect on me, I could tell when he used his powers to make him and Max invisible.

"Who of you freaks is in charge here?" Stryker demanded.

I could see Suzanne, another who was technically senior staff, about to take the responsibility, but I didn't let her do it. Even if she was older than me, I felt responsible...

"That would be me." I announced, taking a step forward.

His eyes instantly focused on me, and by the way they narrowed, I could tell he was trying to place me, he knew he'd seen me before.

"I am the Rose of Chaos." I announced in a deliberately even tone. "And I'm afraid to say, it's not a pleasure to see you, Mayor Stryker..."

I could hear him grit his teeth, and I'd no doubt what the reason would be. He'd just recently re-earned the rank, as he'd been demoted (by several ranks) when his connection to Trask and his crimes had been discovered; and of course he held me responsible for that.

No one could possibly miss the moment he pointed his gun straight at me. I thought I might have heard someone cry out behind me or something, but I wasn't paying attention, too focused on the memory suddenly on the forefront of my mind, of an old vision I'd had years ago, back when we'd been on a mission to rescue Erik before he was delivered to Trask:

Standing surrounded by grass and flowers. The very air seemingly charged with tension, and I could feel it thrumming inside me as I stood on guard, protective (the children needed to be safe). There were several people standing a number of yards away from me, lead by a man in a military uniform, whom I'd never seen before (I knew, he was William Stryker), he was a threat. His gun was aimed at me, and before I could fully understand what was going on, he fired.

I reacted instinctively, calling on fire. Small flames surrounded me, forming a ring in the air around me; not quite touching anything, not yet, though ready to follow my commands.

"Do you really think you alone can take all of us on?" Stryker challenged cockily. "You know, as well as I, we're too many for you alone; and if anyone so much as moves a muscle, my men will open fire... I don't think you'll want the death of children on your conscience..."

"What do you know about conscience?" I spat back at him. "You have none at all!"

"I am a patriot..." He began.

"You're nothing more than a monster, who thinks there's nothing wrong with hurting others, who justifies his depravity with the excuse that they weren't human." I hissed at him.

"They're nothing more than abominations..." He began.

"You're the abomination!" Someone cried out.

One of the guns held by the other men was instantly pointed in that direction; in seconds all guns were aimed, some at teachers, some at children; Stryker was the only one aiming at me, but he wasn't the one that worried me, not really. I knew I had to do something, and it had to be fast; because if I didn't, Max would, and if Stryker realized there was a 'master of magnetism' in the Institute... well, he wasn't stupid not to realize what that probably meant.

It was instinctive, as the flames flew away from me, growing as they did. In a handful of seconds I was surrounded by fire, and not just me, but everyone. Flames enveloping the backyard... but they were no normal flames, they weren't burning the children, not even the flowers or the grass. They were perfectly harmless... though that could change at my command easily enough.

The reaction was mostly like I was expecting, as most of the men with Stryker flinched back in shock and fear, some guns were dropped, others were put away; and even those who did neither, they were no longer truly aiming anywhere. Unable to focus on that. Also unsurprisingly, Stryker wasn't one of those affected, he was still looking straight at me, gun ready.

My ears vaguely caught the sound of wind breaking and I knew Peter had moved closer to me. He'd been at the back, holding the unconscious Gina (while Kurt had Django and Nina). I knew his intentions were good, but I also realized what Stryker was going to do next; his own move was small, but I could see it. Like a flash, the memory of another vision came to me, that one all sound: a fast dash, bullets flying, and something else I couldn't (didn't want to) name...

I had a fraction of a second to react, and I did, I moved just slightly, angling myself differently, but it was enough. Stryker fired, and the bullet hit me, instead of Peter...

For the first few seconds or so I didn't really feel anything. And then, in a rush, it came to me. Hurt... it hurt so much. Perhaps like burning (though I obviously couldn't know what that felt like, since fire would never burn me). In any case, it hurt, a lot, and I couldn't even scream, I was in too much pain to manage even that. My legs folded beneath me, and I was aware of three things in quick succession: the humans dropping to the ground simultaneously, like puppets with their strings cut; Charles and Max running towards me, the fire vanishing as they went through where my flames had been (I let them down when the humans fell, knowing it was finally safe to do so); Peter's voice in my ear, his arms around my body, his face before me, just for a fraction of a second, before black swallowed everything (thankfully I also stopped feeling the pain at that point... unconsciousness was a blessing then).

xXx

It was somewhat of a surprise to not find myself in a hell of a lot of pain when I woke up. I remembered being shot, remembered the deep, searing pain of the bullet in my flank (missing my stomach by less than an inch, I was sure). Still, when I woke up, there was no pain at all... the why became quite obvious just a few seconds later, when I woke up to find none other than my Mama, sitting by my bed.

"I've never been so... so absolutely terrified." She admitted quietly, full of intent. "As I was when I got that phone-call. When Raven told me that you'd been shot... that there was nothing the doctors here at the Institute could do..." She let out a strangled sob. "Why didn't you tell us that your bracelet had no more power? What even happened to you to make it run out of power?!"

In that moment I felt really, really bad, though not because of the bullet (though, on hindsight, if Mama had healed me that would explain why I didn't feel any physical pain... there probably would be no scarring either). No, in that moment I hurt because of the pain I'd obviously put Mama through (and I was sure Papa would be no better).

It took a while, but eventually Mama did calm down, reassuring herself that I was alright. Papa visited too, slipping my rose bracelet back on my wrist, fully re-charged (and, without a doubt, with at least a few more spells on it).

"I checked over Willow's too..." He murmured quietly. "Added the same spell I used on yours, to know in case something ever happened."

I nodded quietly. Even though Willow was gone, her bracelet remained. She'd placed it around Nina's wrist the day before passing on (Papa had added a resizing spell to allow that). He'd also offered to make something for Django, but he refused, he'd inherited Anya's locket, but never wore it, instead keeping it inside a pocket of his favorite leather jacket (a gift from his dad, leftover from his army days).

"I think he resents it." Mama murmured thoughtfully as he sat beside me, running a hand through my hair soothingly.

"Resents what?" I didn't understand.

"All of it." She shrugged a bit. "Magic, power... we have so much, yet it still wasn't enough to save his mother..."

Yeah, and the fact that he was completely human probably didn't help. I had a feeling we hadn't seen the last of Django's discontent with his situation...

xXx

I had to spend two days in bed, waiting for my body to finish healing what Mama's power hadn't (couldn't), and that was aside from the near 24 hours I'd spent unconscious initially (between the time it'd taken for Raven to reach Mama, she and Papa to get to Westchester, and then until I truly healed (it had been a while since my body had processed Mama's magic). When I was finally allowed to join the rest of the school for lunch, the children pretty much turned the meal into a party. Everyone was thanking me, cheering me; Siring hardly let go of me (even though she was getting a bit big for it). She loved me, and I knew that, I didn't complain.

There was also the fact that apparently I was a hero. And not for what I'd done in Paris (which was the reason why some of the staff treated me with deference, after learning I was the Rose of Chaos... while nothing had been made public about the meetings with the Americans, and much less with the Vietnamese, there were, of course, rumors); no, the children all loved me because of what I'd done to protect them. There some comments about how I was cool (to which someone pointed out that fire was in no way 'cool' it was hot...), and awesome, and badass, and a lot of other adjectives. Charles and Max didn't even try to make them stop; in fact, Max seemed to take an almost perverse delight in egging them on, Charles just laughed at the whole thing, and how I kept blushing at the compliments.

Somehow, it wasn't until near the end of lunch, when most of the children had finally quieted down and we were mostly finished with all the food (Mrs. Jenkins had filled my plate personally and warned about what would happen if I didn't eat it all, adding something about me needing to get my strength back or something) that I finally realized why something had felt off all along. There were people missing from the table, two, to be precise... I turned towards Charles and Max instantly, and the way they refused to meet my eyes told me they knew what was going on, had known from the start (had probably been hoping I'd take longer to bring it up... tough luck).

"Where are Wendy and Peter?" I asked Charles, urgency slipping into my voice.

"Gone." Charles admitted quietly.

Whatever else he might have said, any explanations and the like, I didn't hear him. I simply got up and walked out of the dinning room, began running the moment I reached the hallway, completely ignoring everyone around me. Those who might be trying to call me back, to make me stop, I was listening to them anymore. All I could hear was the echo of Charles's words, and the beating of my own heart, so loud I felt like I was gonna be sick. I ran until I couldn't anymore.

Surprisingly enough, it was Max who found me, sitting on the edge of the roof (I'd purposefully gone to the one place where I knew Charles and the children wouldn't follow, my parents knew better than to try... I'd forgotten how much of a stubborn bastard Max could be, though).

"It's not your fault they're gone." He said with no preamble.

"Yeah," I snorted. "Sure doesn't feel that way."

It was only after the words came out that I remembered I'd never told anyone about the night Peter and I'd shared... or how I felt about him.

"Think we're stupid, do you?" He drawled, sitting beside me. "Or perhaps just blind. You might have never said a word, but you didn't need to, sussling (sweetie). It's been quite clear to both Charles and myself for a while that you were in love with the brat."

"Why doesn't he love me?" I couldn't help the question as it slipped through my lips, nor the lost-girl tone I said it in... it was how I felt in that moment.

It was strange, because even once I looked back on it, I didn't think I could have talked to my own mother about it. But then again, she had the perfect love story, Papa had loved her all along, through two lifetimes (of hers) even! How could I ever talk to her about the fact that my own love, my match, did not feel the same way about me? That he'd gone as far as leaving his home, most of his family, to get away from me?

"He does love you." Max said with a shrug.

I really wasn't expecting that, couldn't help but look at him with absolute disbelief.

"It's the truth." He insisted. "I would know. That boy's too much like me..." He shook his head. "The kind of love Charles has for me... and I imagine you have for him. I cannot understand it, and it's not because I don't feel the same way, I just don't see how anyone, especially someone as good as Charles, could possibly love someone like me..."

"He doesn't see you the way you see yourself." I murmured. "He sees more, the parts you've become blind too... and he loves it all."

"As do you, when it comes to Peter." Max agreed. "He'll come to accept it, eventually. You'll just need to be patient with him."

"Well, Charles waited a decade for you... I think I could do the same." I decided after a while, then added, more quietly. "If he gives me a chance, gives us a chance, I could wait a many years for him... a lifetime even..."

I had no idea...

Chapter Text

Black Rose

Even in Death, sometimes it's just impossible to say Goodbye...

It began with a rush of images: Ancient Egypt, a huge pyramid illuminated by the sun... Modern Egypt and a group of men with black tattoos on their necks, praying to some long-lost god... a big, blue-skinned man in elaborate metallic armor... a teen-aged girl with shockingly white hair and sparks on the tips of her fingers... a blonde boy with markings on his face and metallic wings on his back... a dark-haired woman in provocative clothing, a sword made of light in her hand...

They all coalesced into one scene: Peter and Wendy were walking through some unknown place in comfortable silence, when a portal unexpectedly materialized several yards before them. The blue man emerged from the portal, followed by the white-haired girl, the winged-boy and the dark-haired woman. All four of them seemed to be staring at the twins...but when the blue-man, obviously the leader of the group, stepped forward, it was Wendy that he addressed.

I couldn't hear what they were saying, exactly, but I didn't need to either. Whatever it was, it was obvious Wendy didn't like it. The negative to whatever was being offered was clear in the witch's face (Scarlet Witch, it was the code-name she'd chosen, and a part of me had always wondered if her mother's words on that particular day had influenced the decision somehow... Peter, for his part, had chosen the name of Quicksilver).

It all happened in a second. The blue man got close to Wendy... too close, too fast. She tried to fight him off, but before she could his hand was piercing her, her chest. Peter screamed his denial, his fury, as a violent red aura began enveloping his twin; she yelled at him to run, to go home... before blowing up.

Peter did run, though it was obvious in every line of his face, his body, how much it cost him. Wendy's death did not kill the blue-man... monster, though it did leave deep scars on him, which even his powers (which I somehow knew he'd been collecting over thousands of years) couldn't erase completely; also, one of his arms was rendered useless.

A shift, and suddenly there was the Institute, Peter arriving, still in the same clothes he'd been wearing when he was with Wendy. I (another me, the me of that time), was there to receive him, and he collapsed into her arms, crying and raving.

Max nearly went nuts when hearing about his youngest child's death. And it only got worse when the blue man arrived to the mansion, his target: Charles Xavier. Enough mutants around the world had heard about him, and the creature saw Charles as both an opponent... and a vessel. The Institute was ready to go against him, but it was pointless, because Charles had already made his choice, he willingly surrendered himself, to keep the children safe. Max would probably never forgive him for knocking him out, to stop him from interfering.

Though that would not be the end, not at all. There would be battle, and bloodshed, and the world as a whole would resent it. Thousands upon thousands of dead, and even more injured... though in the end the X-Men would prevail. The false god would be defeated.

A final image took shape, even as part of my consciousness began to awaken. It was Peter and I, in a far corner of the Xavier estate, the area that served as a cemetery. There, beside Anya's and Johann's graves, a new one had been placed. There was no body buried, but it was significant all the same, the top read: "Wendy Maximoff... a light that went off too soon, a magic that will never be forgotten...", followed by two years: the first, the one of her birth: 1955; the second I could not make out...

For the longest time neither Peter nor I said a thing, just stood there, before the grave, which was already covered in many different flowers, and a single rose: black, for mourning.

"I don't know how to live without her." He said eventually, voice watery with tears and somewhat hoarse after all the recent crying.

"You will find the way." I murmured, as soothing as I knew how. "We all will." I let out a breath. "Just remember, moving on doesn't mean forgetting. You will never forget her, will never stop loving her. And that's alright. I'm sure she's watching you, watching us all from the Other Side."

"You truly believe that?" He sounded skeptical himself.

"I do." At times believing that was all that helped me keep going myself.

I suspected he probably needed time on his own, he'd always been so close to his twin; so I made to leave him alone. What I could have never expected was the moment when he pulled on my arm; a single, calculated motion that made me stumble a bit, only to fall straight into his arms and then... and then his lips were on mine...

I woke up with the taste of his kiss on my lips, the salt of the tears almost drowning the flavor I could still remember of our single day together. The dream brought me hope, hope that one day Peter would come back to me; but at the same time horror, because Wendy did not deserve to die, not like that, not to madman. I had to do something... Though, if I was honest with myself, I had no idea what, or even how...

xXx

The same dream, the same vision, the same nightmare, would come back to me, night after night, for years; every night I would wake up with the same mixed feelings, every day would be spent wondering if that was the day the monster, Apocalypse, would be awakened, the day Wendy would die, the day Peter would return... I wasn't sure what part of it all terrified me the most, exactly, perhaps it was a mix of it all. And the fact that regardless of how many times I saw it, I could never catch any breaking point, anything I might do or stop doing that might change things. It was extremely frustrating.

By the summer of 1986 I had pretty much become used to the awful dream, had almost become immune to the fear and horror it'd once caused; then, one night changed the terrible pattern. Instead of seeing Egypt and some forest in Northern Europe, I saw what looked like a random street in the suburbs. Two girls, one a redhead and the other a brunette, were playing on the front-yard of a house that seemed like the stereotypical perfect home... Then everything changed abruptly, the ball they were playing with hit a stone, or something and rolled away from them. The redhead offered to go get it, but the brunette was faster. She took a quick look at the street, on both sides, just like her parents had taught her, before crossing to get the ball. Soon she had it in hand and was on her way back, when everything went abruptly wrong. A car turned the corner at high speeds, the girl never got a chance to run, its likely she didn't quite see it before it reached her. Then all that could be heard was screaming, only it wasn't the brunette, but the redhead, she was screaming at the top of her lungs...

I sat up in bed abruptly, fighting to breathe past the tragedy in the dream, I knew (in that way I sometimes just knew things), that there was no point in trying to find the street, the suburb, the girls, the tragedy had already happened... and then I noticed something else, the scream was still ringing in my ears... I also realized something else: I wasn't in my bedroom, but in the infirmary.

"What the...?!" I began, twisting to put my feet on the ground, all the while trying to remember how I'd ended there exactly.

It came back to me soon enough. I'd been with Charles, going through the papers of some of our students, children who'd been wards of the Institute, and yet family had come out, looking to take charge of them. We had to make sure that those families would truly look after the kids, accept them as mutants, and certainly not treat them like the other relatives we'd already taken them all from (thankfully, it truly seemed like they were all sincere, it gave me hope, gave us both hope that, with time, humans would come to accept mutants, perhaps not as normal, but as part of society, and of their families). In any case, we'd been doing that, and as was normal for us when working together, our minds had been connected (it was more efficient that way). Neither of us had been expecting it when the unexpected force slammed into us, mentally. A scream...

"It'd appear that we were knocked out by that scream." Charles announced.

It was until then that I noticed him sitting on the bed beside mine, Max beside him.

"You still haven't told me what happened." Max complained quietly.

For several seconds Charles didn't say anything, instead he looked at me.

"You saw it." He said, it wasn't a question.

"She died." I blurted out, unable to help myself.

"They both did." Charles corrected softly, sadly. "Granted, one of them in a much more permanent manner than the other."

"Charles..." Max muttered in a warning tone.

"A telepath just manifested." He finally announced. "Quite powerful it seems. She was connected to her friend when she died. Alfdis and I both heard the scream, felt the backlash of the death... it's what knocked us both out."

Max didn't say a word, but he went as white as chalk, and I could almost read in his expression the word he was holding back from saying: Shaw...

Of course I knew what had happened in Cuba. What Erik had done, murdering Shaw, and the consequences that act had had on Charles... even Erik hadn't known, not at first, not for a long time. But right then he knew. The thought of Charles repeating such a terrible experience... but worst even, the thought of a child going through that... that was making him blanch.

"We need to find her." I stated what I was sure we were all thinking.

"Yes, we do." Charles agreed.

xXx

We made it to Annandale, in Upstate New York relatively quickly. There, Charles was able to read people's minds enough to tell that an ambulance had just taken both girls (they were barely ten years old!) to the closest hospital. Andrea Matthews had been declared dead, but Jean Grey was unconscious, and no one knew exactly why, so the paramedics had taken her too.

"How are we handling this?" Max asked us.

"I suppose it depends on how much we're willing to tell the Greys... and how serious Jean's condition might be." Charles offered the consideration.

"You and Max should talk to Mr. and Mrs. Grey, test the waters, so-to-speak." I instructed.

"What will you do?" Max inquired, curious.

"I'm still a nurse." I reminded him with a small smile. "I can get into the hospital."

I didn't say anything else, instead choosing to take a cab and go to the hospital. I always carried my IDs with me. There was enough going on in the hospital that not many questions were asked when I offered to help as a volunteer, people accepting easily enough that I was a new nurse that had just had an interview, but would like to make herself useful meanwhile (a certified nurse helping them with no pay? They were hardly going to say no).

It took a week, but eventually Charles and Max appeared as well. By that point I was almost officially working in the hospital (kept giving vague answers when the chief nurse asked when my papers would finally go through; I knew I wouldn't be able to continue the sham for much longer). My friends didn't arrive alone, the Greys were with them.

*So?* I asked Charles simply.

*They know the truth.* Charles informed me, then his mouth twisted a bit.

*Let me guess, Max doesn't agree with that.* I murmured, mentally rolling my eyes.

*Not quite.* Charles agreed with a sigh. *Still, John and Elaine Grey were quite understanding of it all. Sara Grey, Jean's older sister, was especially vocal about how being a mutant didn't change the fact that Jean's her sister. And we better remember that.*

I actually smiled at that, briefly reminded of Anya and her own reassurances to all of us, how her genome had never changed the fact that she was, indeed, family.

*We'll see how understanding they are when they realize everything Jean will be capable of.* Max's mental voice surprised me, though just for a moment.

*It will be alright.* I honestly believed that.

I made to move away as Charles got closer to Jean, intending to use his own telepathy to bring her out of the coma her friend's death had put her in. I didn't realize where I was moving my hand until I touched Jean, and then the vision swallowed me:

A teen-aged girl with long, bright-red hair in a ponytail was kneeling on what looked like a half-destroyed house, in a city that seemed to have been almost razed to the ground. She was wearing a dark-leather body-suit and thick-soled boots. She was looking at something behind me (and I couldn't turn to see), and she looked nervous, scared even. Then something seemed to change, from a moment to the next, she rose to her feet and began walking, slow, purposeful steps; she reached the point where the floor ended, but didn't stop, instead began walking on thin air. Her expression was tense, as if she were holding herself back from shaking in fear or... or as if she were getting ready for something... and then it happened, her eyes snapped open (and they were shining, red and gold, with what looked like fire) at the same time she extended her arms abruptly; and then the fire in her eyes seemed to expand, enveloping her, first just giving her a bright aura, and then more and more, taking shape, a winged figure...

"Phoenix..." I breathed out as I came out of my vision.

"Alfdis...?" Charles called, unsure.

I realized then, he'd seen the vision in my head, though he couldn't understand it, he hadn't sensed what I had, in that last moment, the power, the control, and...

"She's going to be magnificent." I whispered softly, running a hand through Jean's hair. "The most powerful mutant to ever live."

Behind us, Max scoffed in disbelief. I just smiled to myself, he'd see the truth one day, he'd see...

xXx

Shortly after arriving to the Institute, Jean manifested a second gift: telekinesis, which was much easier to control than her telepathy. Almost three years later, not long after Jean's thirteenth birthday, she woke us all up after a nightmare, as she made the whole mansion rumble. The youngest students were terrified, while among the older ones, some were curious, others afraid. Charles had a talk with Jean, and it wasn't good. She knew what she'd done, knew she shouldn't have, but she simply couldn't control it. There was something inside her, she explained, that wanted out, and it kept getting harder and harder to stop it...

"You're not blocking her power!"

I slipped into Charles's private study to hear those words come out of Max's mouth in a tone that was closer to a growl than anything else; he was furious. Charles just looked exhausted.

I didn't need to ask what, or who, they were talking about; didn't even need my gift to know it, it was obvious enough.

"You really shouldn't do that..." I murmured quietly as I went to seat beside Max.

"Her power is growing and she cannot control it!" Charles hissed, annoyed (he was probably expecting me to take his side... I often did; but not then).

"Blocking her power will not help her control it, Charles." I pointed out calmly. "It will just help push down a matter that should not, cannot, be ignored."

"What do you suggest then?" He asked, a bit petulantly.

"I phoned Papa, he will help me locate Hakon." I announced, to their surprise.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Max asked, rolling his eyes. "The boy's powers have nothing to do with Jean's..."

"Perhaps not in essence but..." I paused, trying to find the right words to explain my reasoning. "Did you know that, when he was little, my brother would give frostbite to anyone who touched him? Well, anyone not our parents, of course; but then again, they had an unfair advantage."

"What?!" It was obvious they didn't understand.

"Hakon... you know he's gifted too, you've seen he can manipulate ice." I elaborated. "But it goes beyond that, far beyond... I cannot explain it all, it's not my secret to tell. But I can tell you this, Hakon was born... different, and not just in his gift. He cannot just manipulate ice, it is a part of him, in his very blood... His natural form... it looks very little like the Hakon Serrure most of the world knows."

"He's a shape-shifter?" Charles inquired, confused.

"Not quite." I shook my head. "He cannot change into anyone at will, not like Raven can. He can just shift between two forms, the one that looks human, and his original one. The point I'm trying to make is, in his original form, he's ice; he truly is, in ways you couldn't possibly begin to comprehend, because it's something that goes beyond whatever power a mutant might have."

"Like your fire." Max interrupted. "Like how you can call on fire that doesn't burn... I met a pyrokinetic, years ago, before Kennedy... he could manipulate fire, but he couldn't create it out of nothing, and while the fire never hurt him, he couldn't keep it from hurting others that were touched by it."

"More or less, yes." I nodded. "In his natural form Hakon is ice, which means that whoever touches him, gets frostbite."

"Except for your parents." Charles murmured in remembrance.

"Except them, yes." I nodded. "Papa... well, he's pretty much like Hakon, and Mama... she's bound to him: body, heart and soul, that gives her immunity."

"What's the point of all this tale?" Max demanded abruptly.

"You think that Hakon can teach Jean to reign in her power, just like he learned to reign in his ice." Charles realized.

"Yes." I nodded. "It's... in essence it's the same. The power inside Jean, it's so great... probably greater than any other mutant that exists today; Hakon's power surpasses that of any mutant as well. In the end, their gifts are a part of them, they can learn to control them. They just need to believe... and we need to believe in them."

Hakon arrived a week later. He'd been in Australia or something, helping gifted who were too far away from the reach of the X-Men to be aided by us.

It wasn't easy. While my brother immediately agreed to help Jean, she was already terrified of her own power, and what she might one day end up doing with it. She was convinced it would only ever be a force of destruction. I wished I could convince her otherwise, thought that it might help if she knew her power wasn't a bad thing, wasn't a curse; but I had nothing to give her. Nothing except my faith... I hoped it would somehow be enough.

xXx

My plan worked, better than I could have imagined, even. We still didn't know the limits of Jean's power, but she'd gained control over what she could do, had learned to reign her power in even when in the throes of a nightmare, and that gave her a confidence she'd lacked before.

"How can this training truly be working if she's still holding back?" Max asked one day, about a year after the new training began. "She doesn't even know what she's capable of exactly!"

"No, she doesn't." Hakon nodded congenially. "Then again, neither do I."

That threw the master of magnetism for a loop.

"I doubt you yourself know all you're capable of, all you could do if you were truly pushed to the edge, beyond what you believe to be your limits." Hakon went on, a glint in his eye.

"You don't know me at all." Max hissed, all the metal of the room beginning to vibrate, a clear threat to the man before him.

"Oh, but I do." Hakon retorted. "Perhaps not as well as my sister does, and certainly nowhere near as well as your partner. But I know what you've done. Not just in Cuba, but on other occasions... I know what you did in Ukraine all those years ago, saw the results of that first-hand. In fact, I felt it as you began to lash out, before Papa got us out of there... And that's precisely my point." He was staring straight as Max spoke. "What you did that day... you weren't just pulling at the magnetic elements in the buildings around you, or in the town itself. You touched the very core of the Earth itself... it might just have been for a moment, but you did. Tell me, have you done that again since?"

Max hadn't, and he knew that as well as the rest of us. Max stood contemplatively at him, while Charles simply smiled.

"I did tell you that when you could access all that's inside you, all that makes you you, you would have power no one could match, not even me..." The telepath told him softly.

I couldn't help myself, I snorted. Charles turned to look at me in affront immediately, while Max just chuckled.

"What?!" He demanded, a bit petulantly.

"Oh Charles..." Max murmured, shaking his head, an endearing tone to his voice.

"You just don't see yourself very clearly, that's all." I told him simply, though mentally I said more, a message just for him. *It's always been you, you know? The whole reason I'm here, that I came, that I chose to take fate into my own hands... The world needs you, I knew that from the start.* I shushed him mentally when he tried to interrupt. *The world needs you, and you need him... therefore, the world needed him too. The two of you... you will leave a mark on this world, a legacy that will be remembered for many years, possibly forever.*

Charles didn't respond, though I could feel him swallow hard (and half-absently reassure his match he was alright), as he tried to deal with that revelation. I might have hinted at things before, but he hadn't taken it very seriously, not until right then.

"There's nothing wrong with not knowing our limits." Hakon commented, going back to the original topic of conversation. "It simply means we've never been desperate enough to feel we need to risk it all... Which, once again, not a bad thing in my book." He let out a breath, then elaborated. "Our father told us that one time could freeze a man without killing him, and in one particular battle he half-froze several miles of desert, without straining himself too bad..."

The first when half-insane with the revelation that he was adopted (both Hakon and I knew most of the story), the second had been the very battle that had claimed Mama's mortal life... those had been, most definitely, desperate times.

"I've done neither, I've had no need to." Hakon went on. "Will I have the same level of power he does? Who knows? It's quite possible that he could do even more by now. He's had many years to grow in power, after all. We all have. It's only natural. The course of life, for as long as we live we shall grow, not just physically, like in height, hair, nails, that sort of thing... but our minds, and our gifts. It's true Jean does not know her limits, but even if she did, that wouldn't change a thing in the end. Her limits today won't necessarily be her limits tomorrow, next week, years from now. What's important is that now she has control, and she has confidence. That's what our training was all about, in the end."

Eventually Max seemed to be satisfied and our impromptu meeting was dismissed. We were on our way out of the mansion (having decided to take a walk, enjoy the sun), when Nina rushed to us, a bright smile on her face:

"Auntie Rosie, Uncle Hakon come." She called brightly to us. "Come quickly! I want you to meet my new friends!"

We dutifully followed her. Soon enough reaching the edge of the tree line, where Nina (all of seven years old), agilely climbed the lower branches, to a nook where a bird-nest lay.

"They were just born yesterday." She explained, carefully settling herself beside the nest, before fixing her eyes on the baby birds.

No sound came from her, but soon enough the birds on the nest were making noise, and they were all looking in her direction, seemingly replying to something she'd done or said... because, wonder of all wonders, she had.

Nina was a mutant. None of us had known. Unlike Django (who registered as human), or Kevin (Moira's and Sean's son, who registered as a passive mutant, or a mutant without an active gift), we hadn't tested Nina after she'd turned one. At the time we'd all been fixed on Anya, and how she was dying; and later on it just hadn't seemed important. Not until the day when Django had gone to us, two years earlier, quietly informing us that he thought his sister was talking to the pet-rabbit another of the students had...

It wasn't like none of us had ever seen Nina with animals. She liked to get close to any creature she found in the estate; and the animals never seemed to run away from them. We'd all thought it was simply the fact that she was a child, and so sweet and kind (so much like her mother...) it never occurred to us that she was really communicating with them. It was Django who first noticed the truth and let us know.

Eventually Charles said that he believed it to be some kind of telepathy. She couldn't hear other people's thoughts, but she could touch her mind to that of animals, and adapt her thought processes to theirs, which allowed them to communicate.

Two years later her power was still developing, we didn't know if she'd only ever be able to communicate with animals, or if something else might come up later, but there was no rush. She was so happy with her gift...

So Hakon and I went and met the newborn birds, watching how she carefully signaled at them yet never touched them... she knew better than that. Nina truly seemed to have inherited all the very best of her mother, it reminded me so much of Anya that there were times when I wanted to cry, and others when I just wanted to hold her tight and never let her go... It saddened me that she'd never get to truly know the amazing woman that had brought her to the world. At the same time, at least she'd never be alone, she'd always have family willing to do anything for her, myself included. That had to count for something, right?

xXx

In October of '91 I got a most strange call, from none other than Moira MacTaggert (even after marrying Sean she'd chosen to keep her maiden name, claiming it was easier with her job). Technically she'd called the Institute, but Charles and Max had taken off for the weekend (it was the anniversary of Cuba, and they tended to spend it away from the school, alone). Hank was... somewhere, helping the CIA with some project or another (part of the deal we had). Alex, Darwin and Raven had long since joined the X-Men traveling around the world, doing their best to help gifted who were too far way, or simply didn't have the means to get to us (or for us to get to them); it was the same thing Peter and Wendy were doing, and Hakon had gone back to that after deciding he'd helped Jean as much as he could, and the rest was up to her. So, bottom line, I was the eldest among those left (and the most powerful), so I was the one to handle things.

Which was how I found myself on a private plane the following morning; after explaining to Raven and Irene where I was going, why, and reassuring them that no, I didn't need anyone else to accompany me, if things turned out to be too much for me I'd call reinforcements, but I did not expect there to be a need.

I slept for most of the trip (I'd read somewhere that it helped when dealing with jetlag... and I was bored). It didn't help when yet again I had the same vision I'd had for the last several years.

Moira eyed me doubtfully when I snapped awake (and to full attention) rather abruptly. It'd been worse than other times, the vision of the fight against Apocalypse, Wendy's death and Peter's return somehow mixing up with an old one: the one about Stryker, the stand-down, shooting, a speedster passing by and the sound of bullets hitting their mark and a body hitting the floor. The rush of feelings was so great that my eyes actually flashed with fire as I woke; though I thankfully managed to keep myself from calling on fire... not a good idea considering we were on a plane, several thousand feet off the ground...

"Is everything alright?" She asked me, hesitant.

"Perfect." I answered, with no little sarcasm.

The doubtful look she directed at me made it obvious that she didn't believe me.

"Sean told me once that you have another gift, besides the pyrokinesis." She said quietly. "That you can sometimes... 'see' things." She made a pause before adding. "Is something bad coming?"

"Something bad's been coming for the last four, five years..." In that moment I couldn't remember how long I'd been having the damned vision. "I don't know when it'll come, how it'll happen, how to stop it, nothing at all."

"You've changed things before, yes?" She half-asked. "You've had visions and changed the things you saw. Maybe you're just missing something in this one, some small piece that isn't yet there, or that you're not seeing yet and it'll come to you eventually..."

"Perhaps." I was skeptical, it sounded too easy, particularly considering how badly I'd been sleeping, for years!

For several minutes not a word was said, though I could tell Moira was fighting with herself on whether she should ask a particular question or not... in the end she did.

"How bad will it be if you cannot find a way to stop it?" She inquired barely above a whisper.

"Thousands upon thousands will die..." I answered, trying very hard not to think about it. "Possibly more... beginning with Wendy."

"Wendy...?" Moira repeated, not getting it for a second. "Wendy Maximoff? Scarlet Witch?"

I just nodded. Peter's scream echoing in the back of my head.

xXx

It was until we got off the plane that I realized exactly where we were. I froze.

"Is this Egypt?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes." Moira nodded. "Come on."

We rushed out of the plane and into a private office in the small airport where we'd landed. There we were given black veils by Moira's contact and instructions of how to get... wherever it was we were going (I still didn't know).

"Moira, what's going on exactly?" I demanded as the contact left us. "This whole cloak and dagger thing might have been intriguing for a while, but you got me halfway around the world, and I want to know why."

The only reason I'd even accepted to get on that plane without knowing where the hell we were going was because I knew Charles trusted her (and Sean) and she was a good woman, and a good CIA Agent (also, because if something went wrong, if we, or I, got double-crossed, I knew I could handle it).

"I know you've been very patient." Moira nodded. "Charles and Max would have demanded explanations a lot sooner than this." She pulled a file from a briefcase and opened it over the closest table. "As I'm sure you're aware, the number of mutants in the world have been growing in the last decade. And while no government ever made your meetings with them in Paris in 73 exactly official, you're not exactly a secret anymore. Every day more people around the world learn that we humans aren't alone. You're also aware that some have taken it badly..."

Neither of us said Stryker's name, there was no need, it was obvious enough.

"Others... have reacted differently." She went on. "Cults have been created, particularly in the last few years, which worship mutants in one way or another. Some go as far as seeing you all as a second-coming, a sign of God... perhaps even as gods yourselves."

I wanted to snort, I really wanted to, if Moira only knew... but no, it wasn't yet time for her, for anyone, to know about the Aesir.

"One such cult is based here in Egypt." She continued. "I've been trying to track them down for a while. They call themselves Ashir En Sabah Nur. Named after an ancient being they believe to have been the world's first."

"The first mutant?" I blinked, trying to process that.

From the start I'd known that Charles's original theory that mutants had only appeared in the last century was wrong, there had been gifted people in various places around the world long before; though they'd been rare, scattered, and many times seen as deities, demi-gods, blessed, or witches of some kind. Mama and Papa had told me they got to meet a few, many years ago, back when she was still Tinúviel.

"Yes." Moira nodded. "These guys believe that the first mutant was born tens of thousands of years ago, and they believe he will rise again. They've been searching ancient sites all around the world for clues." She pointed to some specific pictures, and notes with translations. "These hieroglyphs describe the specific set of powers greater than any man can possess."

"So what, he's lived all that time?" I asked, trying to get my mind around that.

Was the guy Aesir or something? I wasn't sure even mutants were supposed to live so long... for that matter, even Aesir didn't live for more than five millennia or so!

"Yes and no." The CIA Agent responded. "They believe that he had the ability to transfer his consciousness from body to body and whenever he was close to death, he would just take on a new body. Some of these made with the bodies of mutants, enabling him to take their powers amassing various abilities over the years."

"An all-powerful mutant?" It sounded like the worst nightmare... like my kind of nightmare...

"Exactly." She nodded. "And wherever this being was, he always had four principle followers, disciples, protectors he would imbue with powers."

She said something else, about the bible or something, but I wasn't paying attention, images running through my head: a blue man in armor, a white-haired girl with sparks, a boy with metallic wings and a woman with a sword made of light... all of them going after Charles... I had to swallow the bile that rose in the back of my throat at that.

"...and wherever he ruled," I tuned in Moira again. "Eventually it would end in disaster, cataclysm, some kind of..."

"Apocalypse." I finished for her, unable to hide my breathlessness.

"Alfdis...?" She questioned, worried.

"Remember how you said I was probably just missing something? About my vision?"

She nodded, I could see a part of her got it, but she was refusing to acknowledge it.

"This is it." I stated, pressing a finger against her file. "This is the piece I was missing."

"Does that mean..." She didn't dare finish.

"Apocalypse is coming." I murmured grimly.

Yes it was, and we needed to stop it, before it was too late.

xXx

Moira lead me directly to the area where her research stated the group gathered. We waited for a while, playing the part of women out to buy groceries, until two cars arrived and a group of men got out, each of them bearing the same black tattoo on a side of their neck.

"Come on." Moira whispered nudging me.

She was the one who knew enough of the local language to get us inside the property where the men had gone. Though while she tried to distract the man that had just placed a heavy drape over the secret entrance into some kind of tunnel I went straight at him, knocking him out hard and fast (there was no time to lose).

Moira took advantage of the moment, while I dragged the man to a side, to push the drape and reveal the entrance into what looked quite obviously like a man-made tunnel. I couldn't help but freeze again when I saw it, images from my vision rushing through my head. I barely managed to move in time to stop Moira from going down.

"No." I almost snapped at her.

"Alfdis..." She began, not understanding. "We need to go down. We need to know..."

"This is the place." I cut her off. "I know it. I know because I've seen it every night for the last several years... That 'original mutant' as you called him, the bringer of Apocalypse, he's down there; and he'll be waking up soon."

"Then we need to stop him." Moira stated, no questions asked.

"We will... I will." I corrected myself. "I need you to listen to me very carefully Moira."

"Alfdis... Chaos-Rose..." She too corrected herself, instinctively knowing I was no longer there just as an associate.

"I need you to get out of here." I told her, not allowing for any questioning on her part. "I need you to get out, get as far away from here as you can. Also, if you can make sure the rest of the people get away too."

"What are you going to do?" She asked me, very quietly.

"Make sure that En Sabah Nur doesn't get out." I answered honestly.

She didn't question me, didn't try to change my mind; something in my eyes told her I was very serious. So she just put her veil back on, turned around and made to run; only in the lack second turning to look at me over her shoulder.

"Will you be alright?" She asked softly.

"I'll be just fine." I told her, with as much confidence as I could.

Truth is, I couldn't know, it wasn't like I'd ever tried before what I was about to attempt... but it needed to be done. For years I'd been praying for a chance to stop that vision from happening, and there it was. I wasn't going to allow fear to stop me. Especially not fear for myself; what I'd told Irene so long ago, about being willing to do anything, to risk anything, about being more afraid of what might happen if I didn't act, than if I did... it was all still true.

I knew that if I succeeded, if I changed things... that would probably also mean that Peter would not be returning to Westchester, to me; and while that hurt something inside me, I'd already decided that to spare him the pain of losing his sister (another sister) I was willing to take on the pain of not having him.

Taking a deep breath I pulled off the black veil, the additional cloth only hindering my motions. Set myself with feet shoulder-width apart, hands straight before me. And then, taking a deep breath, I reached into the very core of my power, the essence of what made me... me, and pulled. Harder and longer than ever before.

For an amazing, incredible, glorious second... I was fire. It wasn't just an energy rushing through my blood, bubbling beneath my skin, no, it was in all of me, every cell... and then, as fast as it filled me up, it went out. Fire that went from red, to reddish gold, and eventually white, it shot from my palms, into the tunnel and straight down it.

I vaguely thought I could hear screaming, though it lasted barely a fraction of a second. I took a moment to pray to the heavens for forgiveness, for the men I'd just murdered in cold blood, and also for any others that might yet die because of my actions, my choices. And yet, deep down I knew that I was saving so many more than I was condemning. Maybe that didn't make me exactly good (who was I to choose who lived and who died?), but it was a choice I was willing to live with, unlike the other option.

I kept sending out fire, draining up to the last drop of my power, not allowing anything to stop me. Not the cries of the people in the street, shrieking when they realized something was wrong (or perhaps the cause was Moira, and whatever she might have done to make people get away); not the change as the air all around me heated up, like I was inside an oven of some kind; not the rumbling of the earth beneath my feet as whatever was beneath me was affected by the fire... I kept going, until I could do it no more, and then unconsciousness claimed me.

xXx

I never knew exactly how many people died due to my actions that day. According to the reports I managed to get my hands on there had been a half-collapsed system of caves beneath several blocks, and it all went down after the fire melted the remains of a pyramid buried down there. There were several deaths and disappearances (believed-to-be-dead) reported, though the exact numbers never came back (though that might have been because it truly wasn't known, as at least a few of the bodies were burnt to the point where there weren't even ashes left). It's something that will stay with me for the rest of my life...

I woke up a week later, in the infirmary of the American embassy in Cairo, weak as a newborn kitten. The first person I saw was Moira, who informed me very quietly that the official version of events was that the members of the cult she'd been investigating had done something to cause the explosion, I'd been in the area to assist her, sent her out with a warning when I realized what was happening, and stayed behind to try and control the damage. A part of me didn't like it, not only not being made to pay for what I'd done, but being thanked for something I hadn't even tried. Still, it was necessary, for all of us, so I agreed to hold on to that.

The next person I saw, was Mama.

"You need to stop giving us these scares Rosie..." She whispered as she kissed my brow. "I thought your Papa was gonna go berserk this time."

"You know I cannot make such promises, Mama." I told her softly but dead-honestly. "Not when my taking the risks might make a difference between others living or dying."

"I told your Adar (Father) you would say that." She nodded with a sigh. "Cannot say I'm really surprised, we're very much alike, you and I; and not just in looks. There are times when I wonder if it's a consequence of your soul coming into being when I was Ljósálfar myself..."

I knew the story. Princess Tinúviel (Mama's past life) had been pregnant with her second baby when the Enchantress attacked her, an attack that resulted in the death of both unborn child and the princess herself. The baby had even had a name already: Meril (elvish for Rose)... Mama and Papa were both convinced that just like she had returned, so had I... I, of course, had no way of knowing. But it might explain why I was so much like the elves (even if I looked human, I was light, and agile, and then there was my voice...). I'd never cared much, one way or another, it simply didn't seem that important in the grand scheme of things.

"Where were you this time?" I asked, to change the topic.

"China." She informed me with a smile. "The Hunan Province. There's a small village there, they have limited resources. A man I knew, he left his practice in Wisconsin to join Doctors Without Borders. It was supposed to just be a few weeks, but then he apparently realized that there were villages far away from the main cities, they didn't have doctors. So he went to one and built a clinic there. I knew him briefly years ago, when I sought to re-qualify as a nurse. He invited us to join him." She let out a breath. "We knew all along we wouldn't be able to stay where we were forever. People would eventually begin noticing that we don't age. So we waited just long enough to make sure things were alright with Howard and his family, with Marge and hers, and with the newly formed SHIELD, then we packed our bags and left. It wasn't originally the plan to go to China, but there just came a time when we felt like we could no longer stay in America, the risks were too great (and not just of someone suspecting something about us, but of us changing things we shouldn't). So we left."

I nodded. I'd known the day would come. In fact, if I was honest with myself, they had stayed a lot longer than I ever expected them to. Even if they'd left New York a good number of years before, they'd still remained in the country for quite a while.

"That's related to something else we need to talk to you about." She added right then.

"You're leaving." I said.

I hadn't had any visions, but I didn't need them either, I just knew, with absolute conviction, that it was coming; a part of me had probably known it for a while.

"Yes." She nodded. "I will be born next year... or the girl I used to be will... the point is the same. It'll be too risky for us to stay after that."

"I don't understand." I admitted, confused. "I though you didn't meet Papa until you were 11."

"That's true." She nodded with a small smile. "But even before that, Loki took to traveling to this world. We don't know if my birth was somehow connected, or if it was entirely coincidental, but from the summer of next year on, the Loki of this time will begin traveling more often to this world. Eventually meeting me, or the eleven-year-old me. Your Papa and I cannot be here when that happens, it'd be too risky."

"So you're leaving this realm." I'd caught on to her comments about the world. "Where are you going then? I know you cannot go to Asgard, or Jotunheim, or even Alfheim."

"No, none of those." She admitted. "Not Helheim either. Much as I'd love to spend time with your sister, it's not time yet. We're going to Vanaheim. Few enough people there knew us, even during my past-life, and the way the realm exists, in separate sectors rather than a single Kingdom, it'll allow us to live there without being bothered, or bothering others."

"When are you coming back?" She asked next.

"2012, most likely." She answered.

It was obvious they'd thought long and hard about it. Even if I didn't know why that year, why exactly twenty years. I didn't ask, the decision wasn't mine to make, in the end.

My parents stayed until I recovered enough to move around on my own, while Raven and Kurt (who'd arrived at some point too) stuck by my side until we all went back home; even Hakon had dropped by for a visit. I knew everyone in the Institute was awaiting my return, and I'd gotten a call from Max telling me very explicitly what would happen the next time I forewent calling on backup, even knowing how dangerous the situation truly was (I'd endured it all happily, though, feeling joy at the thought that he'd never have to live through what I'd seen in my vision; that he, Charles, Peter, Wendy and so many others would be spared that awful reality. Even if it meant that Jean wouldn't get to find out what she could truly achieve with her powers, how much good she could do as the Phoenix (the day would come for that, I was sure of it, just not yet).

xXx

My parents dropped by for a last visit on the 3rd of July of 1992. Their friend's daughter had been born the day before; they'd stayed in China just long enough to help with the delivery and be sure they would be okay, then it was time to leave. They'd already visited Hakon, and phoned Howard, Marge and Shannon briefly (they couldn't go see them, surrounded as they were with people who shouldn't see them... a list that, regretfully, included Tony). They spent the day visiting, having fun with us all. Mama had previously explained to Charles and Max that the students weren't to know their real names, our connection, and why (in a much more detailed manner than I ever expected her to, in fact). So instead they were given new names: Mama was Canary (the youngest children loved it when she sang them to sleep), and Papa was Trickster.

A couple of weeks later, Mystique was on a mission in Eastern Europe with Kurt (basically, they were smuggling several mutants out of what, until recently, had been the URSS). Charles and Max were in Manhattan, for a public forum on evolution; ever so slowly the existence of mutants was beginning to leak to the public; and while it was still mostly treated as theory rather than truth, Charles took every opportunity to speak on the topic, holding onto the belief that humans could come to accept mutants, if they were able to understand they weren't quite so different deep inside. Hank and I were in charge of the Institute (and I'd been told, very explicitly, what would happen if I so much as thought of going on a mission without taking back-up...).

Still, I had no such plans. The temperature was nice, and most of the children were either playing in the pond, or just running around the grounds. I was sitting with Nina and several other girls her age, on a blanket. We were having something that was half-picnic, half-tea-party. I also half-absently began humming a song quietly, not quite paying attention to it.

"Something isn't right..."

Even as I heard those words, it took me a moment to realize the voice hadn't come from any of the students, or the teachers; that I was no longer hearing with my ears... My surroundings began vanishing from around me, as another reality took hold of my senses.

"Django!" I cried out the first name that came to mind. "Keep the girls away from me!"

I used what control over my body I had left to force myself to my feet and practically stumble away from the children. I wasn't sure how many steps I managed to give but, as the vision finally swallowed me, I could only pray it'd been enough.

The place look like a cave, or perhaps a tunnel dug deep into the mountains. I knew instinctively it was somewhere in South America, but nothing more specific than that.

"Something isn't right..." The same voice murmured once again, it was Peter.

"I heard you the first time." Wendy muttered quietly. "We have to get out of here."

Here, I suddenly knew instinctively, was a secret military facility somewhere in the Andes. I had no idea how they'd gotten there; though the why became quite obvious as I noticed the children and teenagers huddled behind them, trying to stay as close to the twins as they could. They were mutants, each and everyone of them; at least a dozen, possibly more. Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch were executing a rescue.

Peter opened his mouth and looked like he was about to say something else, when a shot rang, children screamed, and there was a flash of red-light. Soon there was a man, armed, unconscious laying against a wall... but the damage had been done by then. Quicksilver was on the ground, a bullet having shattered his right leg just above his ankle. He couldn't walk... he couldn't run.

"Told you something wasn't right." He spat through the pain.

"We need to get you something for that leg..." Wendy fought to keep her fear down.

They'd been doing missions together for years, neither of them had ever been injured so badly...

"We need to get these kids out of here." Peter corrected, signaling to the man briefly. "Before his pals find us."

Wendy had to admit he was right, so with some help from her powers she got her brother back up and they went back to leading the group down the twisting halls.

Trouble found them eventually, in the form of even more armed men.

"Run!" Scarlet Witch yelled at the mutants they'd rescued. "There is an opening just a few yards ahead. Run, get out, don't look back."

The children hesitated just for a second, but soon they were doing as ordered. Leaving their saviors to keep their pursuers (who looked more like mercenaries than actual soldiers) back. The last of the group, a golden-skinned, white haired teen-aged girl, turned back for a moment.

"What are we supposed to do?" She asked the twins in accented English.

"How good is your memory?" Wendy inquired suddenly.

"Perfect." The other girl replied honestly.

"If we don't get out in the next five minutes, you take the children and get to the nearest city. Find a phone and ask to make a collect call to this number." She rattled off a list of digits. "You got that? Tell them where you are and that you need the X-Men."

The number was that of the CIA office that aided them, rather than the Xavier Institute (just in case something went wrong). She knew they would get help.

Soon the children were gone and more mercenaries kept arriving. Though Peter's leg injury had been aggravated in the confrontation. Also, it was quite obvious that Wendy's magic wasn't being as effective anymore, she was exhausted, and close to drained...

Then, it happened, another mercenary attacked, and there was no red-spark coming... the grenade landed at the twins' feet.

"Wendy run!" Peter yelled at his sister.

"No!" She yelled at him. "Not without you."

At the last possible second Peter turned his eyes to a side, straight at me... it was almost as if he could suddenly see me...

"Rose..." He really was calling to me. "I'm sorry."

"Tell Dad we tried our best." Wendy added for good measure.

"I love you..." Peter whispered, almost too quietly to be heard.

Then the grenade went off...

...and deep inside me, in a corner of my heart and soul, something snapped.

I screamed, at the top of my lungs, was still screaming when the vision vanished from around me. A corner of my mind reminded me of the fire, the power in my blood was rushing out, enveloping me, trying to protect me from a devastation I couldn't be shielded from.

It took a while (though I'd completely lost the ability to perceive time, and thus had no idea just how long exactly), but eventually a voice broke through to me.

*Rose of Chaos...* She was calling to me in my head. *Rose of Chaos you need to wake up...*

Wake up? I didn't understand. I wasn't asleep, was I? No, no I wasn't asleep, but I wasn't fully awake either. I'd been lost in a vision... one not of the future. I knew that even without even having to think about it, what I'd seen... it wasn't something to come, something that I could fight to stop. No, it had already happened, it'd been happening even as I saw it. There was nothing I could do, nothing I could have done. I wasn't sure what was worse, having witnessed such a tragedy, or the pain... the absolute agony of the bond that had snapped inside me.

It didn't matter that he'd never truly loved me in return (not until the last moment), that we'd never formally acknowledged that bond. I knew it existed; he was mine and I was his... and I'd lost him. Whatever dreams I might have had, they would never be... because he was gone.

*Rose... please...* The voice insisted.

*Phoenix...* The name came to me without having to think about it.

I saw her when I opened my eyes, standing in front of me, green eyes adorned with a ring of reddish gold, her scarlet hair floating around her, looking as if it were part of her aura... or of the fire enveloping us. For a moment I thought I would be sick, until I realized that Jean wasn't being burnt; though it wasn't my doing. It was all her, she was keeping the fire from burning her, from so much as touching her skin; all with her telekinesis. She truly was the Phoenix...

*I like the name.* She said with a small smile. *Thank you.*

As I grew more self-aware, I realized how dangerous what I was doing was, yet I couldn't really stop, no matter how hard I tried.

*You're in pain.* Phoenix pointed out. *It's a natural instinct for your power to protect you.*

*Perhaps, but that natural instinct is going to get everyone killed unless I'm stopped, soon.* I pointed out grimly. *I know you're doing your best Phoenix, and it's wonderful, but you won't be able to hold my fire back forever.*

*I know...* She murmured very softly.

I knew there was something else going on, her tone... she was waiting for something. But by the time my conscious mind fully processed that, it was too late, another mind had latched onto mine.

*That's not a good idea Professor!* Phoenix called loudly (and possibly out-loud as well).

She hadn't know what Charles was going to do; but then it was too late. My mind, rather than push him out, pulled him in, straight into the vision playing in a loop inside my head. And it wasn't just him; Charles and Max had a permanent bond... the older mutant saw everything as well... He saw his children fight their last battle, heard their goodbyes... saw them die.

I screamed... we probably all did. Then Phoenix's power sharpened somehow, and I was finally allowed to fall into blissful unconsciousness.

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

It wasn't quite time for dinner just yet, when Moira arrived to the mansion. Sean was with her that day, though he hadn't climbed off the second van just yet. It was her idea, she'd asked to handle things on her own, even though a part of her really didn't want to, (she hadn't wanted to do it, but it hadn't felt fair to push the task onto another agent... or to leave Sean to handle it alone).

Charles was at the door before she even had the chance to knock.

"Charles..." She began, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Come in Moira..." He began himself, then looked over my shoulder. "We should get everyone inside, then we can talk." He took a look at her and added: "We knew you were coming."

"You knew..." She repeated. "But how?"

"Alfdis..." Was all he said, a shadow covering his eyes as he said the name.

"She 'saw' it?!" Moira was shocked. "But then why...?"

She didn't dare finish the question, but she didn't need to, Charles heard it all the same.

"She didn't see it until it was too late." He told her quietly. "Irene thinks she probably wasn't supposed to see it at all, but he called to her."

"He..." Moira's mouth went dry as she processed the implications.

"Peter." Charles clarified. "He called to her in the end... to apologize, and to say goodbye."

Moira had no idea why Peter would need to apologize exactly, but that was probably none of her business anyway. So instead she focused on the other part; the part where Alfdis Eisenhardt had seen the death of two dear friends, knowing there was nothing she could do about it. In that moment Moira was really, truly grateful to be only human.

"Where is she?" The CIA Agent asked before she could think better about it.

"Her room, asleep." Charles answered, then revised. "Well, I suppose it's more catatonia than actual sleep. She's refused to even move off that bed since that day..."

"Catatonia...?" Moira was suddenly really worried. "Shouldn't she go to a hospital?"

"Her health isn't at risk, not from this at least." The telepath assured her.

Also, it was better to let her be, at least she was no longer lighting everything on fire whenever she woke, as she had for the first day or so. Still, it was quite obvious she wasn't processing what had happened. As hurt as Max might have been (and Charles would never stop cursing himself for diving into Alfdis's mind, pulling his love with him, and not realizing how bad it could be). Even then, Max was grieving, he'd accepted the loss, the pain, and was doing his best to get through it; Alfdis refused to so much as process the thought.

It wasn't healthy, it couldn't be; and yet Charles remembered how badly off he'd been at one point, and his friends had never given up on him, they'd stood steadfast by him, especially her; he wouldn't give up on her.

Sean stepped off the van right then, slowly helping the group of children and young teens get off both vehicles. They had nothing except the clothes on their backs; and even those had been provided for them by the CIA when a group had gone to pick them up.

"So... you know everything then?" Sean murmured as he reached them.

"Not quite." The Professor admitted with a sigh. "We know what happened that day, in the caves, but not what lead to that..."

"The Maximoff's were helping local law enforcement dismantle a trafficking ring." Moira began the explanation. "They dealt with everything: drugs, weapons, jewels, women, children... and mutants. They did a wonderful job; and then they discovered that the majority of the mutants had been sold just the day before."

"To whom?" No one noticed when Max approached, he was just suddenly there.

"We don't know." Moira admitted grimly. "It was someone foreign, that much was obvious. But everything was lost when the tunnels blew up." She bit her tongue at the reminder of what had happened, exactly. "In any case, the CIA left once the matter of trafficking was dealt with."

Max scoffed and Charles could hear his thoughts about that; how they obviously hadn't cared about the children, since they weren't human...

"The twins insisted on staying, claiming they would find the missing mutants." Moira went on. "And they did. A team was sent to aid them, but bad weather delayed them. The Maximoffs refused to wait, no matter what anyone said. They found the cave, got to the children... and then something went wrong." She shook her head. "I'm sure you know that part already."

"We do." Charles nodded.

"I..." Moira took a deep breath before focusing straight on Max. "Wendy and Peter were heroes. And while I know that's probably no comfort, having lost them, they were. And there are fifteen young mutants that are now alive and free thanks to them. You should be proud of that."

"I've always been proud of them." Was all Max said in the end, nothing more was really needed.

There was no more talking after that. They got the children installed and then it was time for dinner. Moira and Sean only stayed long enough to make sure the new mutants would be alright. Things were a bit tense at first, especially when the new children found out that one of the heads of the Institute was the father of their rescuers; and two other inhabitants were their niece and nephew... and then there were the whispers about the Rose of Chaos...

Every mutant around the word had heard that title, even those who hadn't heard the rumors of the meetings in Paris in '73. But it went beyond that, the idea that she'd seen what had happened, and the rumors that she'd been very close to one of the twins... No one aside from the Professor, Magneto and Phoenix could get anywhere close to her bedroom, as her grief seemed to be an almost physical barrier, hitting them the moment they got too close.

And so they left her alone.

xXx

Charles woke up early even for him the following morning. There were times when he felt shocked at himself, remembering how much he used to hate mornings; how he'd take any and every excuse possible to stay in bed longer. Not anymore, not when the Institute needed him. Though, in that moment it wasn't the Institute that needed him.

He didn't realize what was going on until he reached the room... the sitting room on the second floor, the one that had been the favorite of Max's children (their children). Rose Alfdis was there, standing in the middle of the room, almost as if in a trance, and she was singing:

"All my friends tell me I should move on
I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahh
That's how you sang it"

"Loving you forever, can't be wrong
Even though you're not here, won't move on
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahh
That's how we played it"

"And there's no remedy
For memory
Your face is like a melody,
It won't leave my head
Your soul is haunting me
And telling me
That everything is fine
But I wish I was dead"

"Every time I close my eyes
It's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you
Won't be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes
It's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you
Won't be waiting on the other side"

"All my friends ask me why I stay strong
Tell 'em when you find true love it lives on
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ahh
That's why I stay here"

"And there's no remedy
For memory
Your face is like a melody,
It won't leave my head
Your soul is haunting me
And telling me
That everything is fine
But I wish I was dead"

"Every time I close my eyes
It's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you
Won't be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes
It's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
But there's no you,
Except in my dreams tonight,"

"Oh-oh-oh-oh-hah-hah-hah-hah
I don't wanna wake up from this tonight
Oh-oh-oh-oh-hah-hah-hah-hah
I don't wanna wake up from this tonight"

"There's no relief,
I see you in my sleep
And everybody's rushing me,
But I can feel you touching me
There's no release,
I feel you in my dreams
Telling me I'm fine"

"Every time I close my eyes
It's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I'm scared that you
Won't be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes
It's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
But there's no you,
Except in my dreams tonight,"

"Oh-oh-oh-oh-hah-hah-hah-hah
I don't wanna wake up from this tonight
Oh-oh-oh-oh-hah-hah-hah-hah
I don't wanna wake up from this tonight"

Alfdis turned around as the song ended. Charles could see the emptiness in her eyes, it was awful. She'd finally let her feelings out in a song... and yet it was nowhere near enough to help her move on; in that moment Charles seriously doubted if she even could. Silent seconds passed, the telepath didn't need her to say a word, he suddenly knew what she was planning.

"You're leaving..." He murmured in realization.

"I am." She nodded, then added. "I'm leaving on a 1st of August... rather poetic, don't you think?"

Charles didn't ask her what she thought was so poetic about it. It eventually took Max picking up on his memory of the conversation to point out what he'd missed.

"The day Magda brought the twins, the day Rose and Peter met... it was a 1st of August." He reminded Charles softly.

Rather poetic indeed...

Rose Alfdis left the Institute before sunrise... no one would see her for many years...

Chapter Text

Withered Rose

All things in the world die, even roses... and even love...

When we graduated from Dartmouth, Uncle Howard made us the most outrageous present ever; it wasn't alcohol (there had been a bottle of very old, very expensive scotch on our 21st birthdays... but that was another matter entirely), it wasn't even a house, it was beyond that. It was a whole property, a ranch, smack out in the middle of nowhere (in Luna County, New Mexico, to be more precise), in the Chihuahuan desert. The few properties around were other ranches, used for cattle, and the two closest towns were each over an hour away, by car. Finally, there was the tiny little fact that the property effectively didn't exist, it wasn't on any registries (Uncle Howard made sure of that) did not appear on any maps, you could only get there if you knew the way (or completely by accident... possibly).

"The kind of people you and your sister are, the kind of lives you're likely to lead... you might need a place to hole up sooner or later." Uncle Howard explained to us after he had us sign all the paperwork. "A place where you can be sure no one will be able to find you, if you don't want to be found. A safe place... that's what this place is supposed to be. Once all papers are finalized they will be buried under so much red tape no one will ever be able to find them. Not even me."

Later on I learnt he'd given a property to my parents too, years before. A house in the outskirts of London, where Peggy Carter slept most of the time. He himself had a number of safe houses as well, but in and out of the country, and we had access to more than half of them. However, the ranch was only ours...

When Willow passed away she left me the property in her will. She explained that her children would inherit the house that had belonged to Johann and her in New Jersey, as well as the money from his insurance and the military pension. The ranch was meant to be mine. Even then, it didn't feel exactly right, I knew it wouldn't be right to just give Django and Nina the value of half the ranch, but I did add a good amount of money to their respective accounts, enough so I wouldn't feel like I was taking their inheritance.

In 1992, after deciding I just couldn't stay in the Institute, that I couldn't remain an X-Man, hold onto that life after everything that had happened (after I lost him... for good), I took off. I could not say I planned it (am not sure I planned anything at all), but somehow, eventually I found my way to the ranch. Made arrangements over the phone with a market in Deming to have groceries delivered every couple of weeks, and activated a post-office box in Columbus, then I pretty much locked myself into the farm-house and hardly came out for years.

It was probably a good thing that I wasn't hurting for money (all the years in the Institute, Charles had insisted on paying me the same as the rest of the staff, even though I hardly ever had to buy anything... it had been Max's idea to invest half of it, instead of just having it sit in the bank, simple, low-risk investments, they'd helped make the money grow. And even before that, with the account Uncle Howard had set up for me when I was born; and finally, with what he'd left me in his will (in secret, so as not to call attention onto me). I wasn't exactly 'filthy rich', but I had no need to worry about it either.

The first year I barely did enough to keep myself alive, and certainly nowhere near what most people would qualify as 'in good health'. I was depressed, beyond that even; it's likely that the only reason I never got suicidal was because I knew exactly what Peter would say if I ever did something that stupid. Also, that would have made him feel guilty, like it was his fault that I died, and it really wasn't, it wasn't his fault the way I felt, or that he couldn't feel the same. Even with the words he'd pronounced just before the grenade went off... I wasn't sure if I could believe them, not when I'd spent so long believing the exact opposite. Maybe he just hadn't been ready before, maybe he'd been waiting for the right time to return, maybe he really didn't love me and just wanted to give me some kind of illusion to hold onto... I would never know. Also, I knew it wasn't exactly normal, to feel so strongly about his loss, to feel like my soul had been torn in two by his absence, like I was missing a piece of me, a piece I'd never get back. Even if I loved him (and that part wasn't in doubt), our bond had never been finalized, no ancient vows pronounced, so why then was I walking the edge of insanity at the loss of him?!

In 1993 I forced myself to go to Columbus myself, buy a honey-wax candle and just enough things to prepare a proper meal for myself. Then, on the evening, I called on fire for the first time in a year, to light up the Yarzheit candle, recited the prayers from memory and forced myself to stay away and fast until it was fully consumed, then cooked myself the first real meal in a year and ate it fully.

I knew I couldn't remain in mourning forever, or at least not the kind of mourning I had been doing for almost a year. It just might end up killing me in the end, and that wasn't right. So I forced myself to move. I went to Deming, bought everything I needed for gardening, and set to creating a garden, with all the flowers I could find. It was quite insane, seeing how the ranch was in the middle of the desert. But there was a subterranean river running beneath the property (there was actually a well and everything). With some help from a number of workers I got a system for gardening installed, and then got to work.

Creating a garden reminded me of my mother, the rose garden she'd always tell us about, in Salani manor (a garden that, technically, didn't exist yet); it also reminded me of my sister, all the work she'd put into restoring the grounds in the Xavier estate; reminded me of Vera, Johann's younger sister, and her gift to force-bloom flowers... and ever so slowly, as the flowers grew, as the garden took shape, I began to heal.

I did cheat some, in the creation of the garden. There was a ward around the whole estate (part of which made it so safe... according to Papa it was the same kind of ward he'd placed... would place on Mama's home), it was mostly to prevent people with ill will towards the inhabitants to act on it; though it also had the side effect of preventing the worst of the extreme temperatures that could usually be expected from a desert. It made things... perhaps not easier, but at least less hard than they might have been otherwise. The wards were tied to my energy, taking some of me daily to stay up (actual energy and not magic, since I wasn't a spellweaver), it also meant that the ward would exist as long as I lived).

It took four more years for me to fully snap out of the daze that had become my life. It happened completely by surprise too. I woke up in the middle of the night, after yet another nightmare, a mix of every single vision and memory I had that concerned Peter, ending with the events in that cave in Los Andes... I thought I'd go crazy for sure. Got to work on looking after my desert roses as a way to try and keep myself busy. But nothing worked, whenever I closed my eyes, whenever I so much as blinked for a fraction of a second too long I'd see his face, his lips as they shaped those last words, his eyes as he surrender to the inevitability of death, the fire that had claimed his life, fire that I could have stopped if I had just been there! If I had known! If...!

I didn't even notice when I moved, but suddenly I was kneeling on the floor of an empty room. What was once supposed to be my music room, but there was nothing there, nothing except a small keyboard, nothing like the concert piano I'd play in Xavier mansion, or the one in Stark mansion in NY. Still, in that moment it was enough and I knelt there, my fingers dancing over the keys, slowly, then faster and faster, until my own voice joined the twisting melody:

"I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone"

"These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase"

"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me"

"You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face—it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice—it chased away all of the sanity in me"

"These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase"

"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have all of me"

"I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along"

"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have... all of me"

I noticed that at some point the song had become more a reflection of a dream than of reality, an expression of everything I'd wanted to, had wanted to be for Peter, yet never had the chance. It was like what Mama had said once, how when her father died she didn't grieve the person he'd been, but the one he hadn't, the father he never was to her. I realized then that I wasn't just mourning Peter himself, but the love that never got a chance to be... And that was why it haunted me still, why it was so hard to deal with. It is said that it is better to have known love and lost it, than to never have known love at all... I wonder where 'knowing love and never being able to live it' stands exactly.

In the end the song did help. It wasn't a magical cure, but it helped me come to terms with what had happened, with what was real and what wasn't; all the hopes that would never be realized. And then... then I could admit to myself that it was time to really move on. To begin living again. If an Afterlife existed, and if those on the Other Side really did watch over us... Peter probably wouldn't be very happy with me, with what I was doing of my life. Whether he loved me or not, he'd been a friend, and I'd not continue to dishonor his memory by hiding away and watching life pass me by. Hadn't I once told Irene that wasn't what I wanted?

"I may be a Seer, but I'm not just a seer, I am fire and I am chaos, a woman and a gifted... and I will not limit myself to existing on the edge of the world, to watching history pass me by. I've made my choice, and I'll stand by it against whoever and whatever might come."

Yes, I'd said that. And it was as real in that moment, in 1997, as it had been in 1972; perhaps more so. And it was time I acted like it. It was time I began to truly live again.

I left the ranch then, not permanently, that place still felt safe, it was still home in a way few places were anymore. Still, I rented an apartment in Las Cruces, New Mexico, where I enrolled in the College of Health and Social Services of the New Mexico State University. I wanted to be a nurse again, and knew that I couldn't do it as Alfdis Eisenhardt, not when I wasn't really aging and hadn't since I was in my twenties. So I took a new name, that of Rosalie Nova, dyed my hair black and straightened it, and began a new life (still visiting the ranch every other weekend).

xXx

In three years I'd finished all my theoretical subjects and was only missing some of the practicals, most of which would be done as I began working. I had a contract for a year in the local hospital. I'd never actually worked in a hospital before, though my previous experience at the Institute helped me, I knew how to deal with kids, much better than any of the other new nurses.

In six months I'd become well known for my ability to handle even the hardest of children. Those who were absolutely terrified because they were in the hospital, or those who were so quiet, not daring to talk and explain why they were there exactly. I was also known for being able to tell when a kid was there because of an accident... and when they were being abused.

"You're going to be a wonderful pediatric nurse." Kristin, the Head nurse, told me one day.

"I don't know if that's what I want." I admitted.

"What are you saying girl?!" Alex, the pediatrician who I ended working closely with called, fake scandalized. "You're a natural with the brats!"

I chuckled, I knew he only called them that as a joke, he loved children so much... it was no wonder he had chosen to study pediatrics.

"I don't know if I could handle it." I admitted. "Seeing sick and hurt children every day, and those we cannot help..."

"You cannot save everyone." Kristin said softly. "Even God cannot do that..."

She'd been there for me the first time I lost a child. It hadn't been my fault, the little girl had had cancer, an advanced stage, there was nothing anyone could do except try and alleviate her pain. The worst part was that she only had her father, and he couldn't be there all the time, because he had to work, in order to keep paying the hospital. So I'd tried to be there for little Melanie whenever her dad couldn't be. Also, Mr. Stewart didn't know it, but several of us had pitched in to help pay for a few extra things that had popped up, so he wouldn't have to worry about it.

The day Melanie passed away, about four months after I began to work there had been absolutely heart-breaking. On the one hand, the little girl was finally free, free of pain, of grief, of the sickness, she was at peace... on the other, a little angel was gone from this earth, and, of course, Mr. Stewart was left to grieve.

"You need to believe that she's in a better place." I told Mr. Stewart when I saw him for the last time. "Whatever your religion, whatever your personal beliefs. You need to believe that there is a place better than this, and that Melanie is there now. She's not in pain anymore, she's at peace, and happy, and one day... hopefully many years from now, the two of you will meet again."

"Do you really believe that?" He asked, a watery voice through the tears.

"I do." I nodded. "I have to." I could see the question in his eyes, and answered it before he could bring himself to ask it. "My twin sister, she got sick and died years ago, there was nothing any doctor could do for her either."

"Oh..." He breathed out. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"I'll see her again, some day." I was telling myself that, as much as I was telling him, and not only about Willow, but Peter too. "And you will see Melanie."

"Someday." He agreed.

I could only hope my words had helped give him some kind of comfort, however small it might be. Sometimes they were all that kept me going...

So, really, I didn't know if I could keep doing that for the rest of... however many years I got to continue living as Rosalie Nova.

Near the end of January I was working the night shift on the emergency room when I was paged. A new patient had come, a young girl, about six or seven years old, she had a dislocated arm and a number of contusions on her small body. I needed but one look at her and I was immediately calling my boss.

"Someone needs to call Child Services." I told her grimly.

"What? Why?" He asked me, confused.

"That girl that just came in?" I said, signaling to where she was quietly sitting.

"I see her." He nodded. "Paramedics brought her in for a dislocated arm and some bruises. From what they were told she apparently got off bed for a glass of water or milk or whatever, tripped on something and ended going down the stairs."

"I may not know what happened exactly, but I can tell you a few things right now." I replied. "Half of those bruises aren't from a few minutes ago, they're old, set in." I began enlisting. "She has scars, scars that aren't the kind children, even clumsy children, get. And have you looked at her? She must be in a hell of a lot of pain, yet she's not crying, she's not even sobbing. She didn't cry when Arizona set her arm. A girl that age should be wailing for her parents right about now. An unknown place, in pain, and the middle of the night? Can you tell me you don't see it?"

"I didn't, not until just now." He admitted soberly. "But I'm seeing it now. I guess that's why they say you are so good with children. You see things no one else would."

That had nothing to do with being a nurse... it might have something to do with my gift, having the Sight... though I hadn't had a single vision since leaving the Institute... but that didn't matter right then. What mattered was getting that little girl away from her abusers.

So Social Services were called in. At first there seemed to be nothing wrong. The girl: Mary Sue Poots, wasn't talking, neither were either foster parent, or the other foster child; and then the only biological child of the couple: a fifteen year old boy called Ryan, stepped forth. He told the Social Worker all about his father, the violent alcoholic, who was always looking for an excuse to hit someone; and his mother, the recovering drug-addict who excused everything by saying it was 'god's will'... The couple ended in jail, Ryan was sent to live with an aunt, while the two children were left in the hospital while they found somewhere else for them.

The other girl: Helen, had a new foster family by the end of the week, she was a little thing, not even three yet, still with good chances to get adopted. Mary was another matter entirely. As I soon learned, she was soon to turn seven, and she'd never been with any foster family more than four months (most of the time she didn't last more than three). The worst part was that the girl seemed to be used to it, accepting it all quietly.

No one knew quite what to do with her. St. Agnes was at full capacity and they couldn't take her in, and Social Services was having trouble finding her another foster family so quickly; she'd just been placed with the last one a month prior...

"I'll take her in." I didn't even realize what I was saying until the words were out of my mouth.

"What?" No one was expecting that.

"I can do it." I assured them all, gaining confidence as I spoke. "I am a nurse. And I've been told I'm good with children."

"That may be true, but do you have the resources to look after her and yourself?" The Social Worker asked me seriously. "In my experience recent graduates have little money."

Behind us, several people snorted (I had made my offer so completely by surprise we hadn't even had the chance to go into an office to talk).

"Sally's rich!" One of the orderlies called from a side.

Sally... it was what they called me. Because there was already a doctor in the hospital whom they called Rosie (her name being Rosa Torres); and he'd stated I needed another nickname, and so I became Sally...

"I received an inheritance." I explained to the social worker. "From my mother's older brother, when he died. I am a nurse because I enjoy the job, not because I need it." Thinking that that might sound a bit too pedantic I added, more softly. "I might not have gone through any of your usual screenings Miss Matthews, and may not be a mother myself yet. But believe me when I tell you I will do my best to look after Mary."

"You can at least be sure she'll never do what the last bastard did." Kristin deadpanned. "Rosalie would never so much as raise her voice to a child, much less a hand."

Eventually the social worker was convinced. We were warned it would probably be a temporary arrangement only, as I still wasn't what most people would prefer for a foster mother: single, recently graduated, and supposedly 20 (and to think I'd made myself so young when getting my papers in order to be able to keep the identity longer... it'd backfired spectacularly...).

We managed to work it out. I moved out from my simple one room apartment into a two bedroom one, that was further away from the hospital, but closer to the elementary school where Mary would be attending. I went a bit nuts and got her a whole new wardrobe and a few extra things (like books and a few dolls, though she seemed to be more interested in the former than the latter, to be honest).

I had a habit of wearing mostly denim, plaid and boots whenever I wasn't working, and it was something she took to as well, though I wasn't sure if she was trying to imitate me, if she was doing it because she liked it, or she thought of it as a way of fitting in. I didn't ask, letting her make her own choices, it was important.

We got through the first two months just fine, and then a third, at which point the social worker brought me a bunch of paperwork to fill and sign so I'd officially be Mary's foster mother. She didn't see any point to keep looking for a new family when I was doing a good job all on my own (all my coworkers were quick to insist on that, whenever they got the chance).

The day after the papers were signed I packed the two of us into the car and we took off on a little weekend vacation. I hadn't been to the ranch since Mary had come into my life, and I wanted to share the place with her. Let her know I... she... we had a home, beyond the little apartment where we spent most of the time.

"This place is awesome!" She stated, looking in wonder all around. "How do you even grow all these flowers here? We're in the middle of the freaking desert!"

"Magic." I deadpanned, not quite joking (though she didn't know that, of course).

In that moment, and just for a few seconds, I wondered what it'd be like for her to truly be my daughter. To be able to give her my name, to call her my own, to share all my secrets with her. Would she understand? About the fact that, despite looking in my twenties, I was actually past fifty? That I was gifted? The daughter of a reincarnated elven princess and a jotun-turned prince of Asgard? That I was daughter of the god of lies and mischief? That I was the Rose of Chaos...? I knew that, aside from those who were part of that 'weird world', not many people knew what or who the Rose of Chaos was. Most humans either had never heard such a title, or considered it (her... me) to be little more than a legend. I wasn't sure which might shock her most, but a part of me couldn't help but wonder how she would react. Would she accept it? If she knew, would she still want to be my family, my daughter?

We had a wonderful weekend. I taught her everything Willow had once taught me, about caring for all kinds of flowers, and everything I'd later learned on my own. I even told her about little Nina and about Django.

My nephew, I'd learned at some point was no longer living in Westchester. Days after reaching his majority he'd taken his inheritance and left the Institute, and the country as a whole (Charles had tried to find him, but he was out of his range), leaving behind a letter of goodbye, citing his reasons as no longer being able to stay in a place where he just didn't fit. It grieved me. I'd always known there would be trouble, with Django being a human, living among mutants, with all his family being mutants. He wasn't like his parents, who were content with their lives, who didn't care about being different and were confident of what they could give, what they were... Django had always resented his differences, they'd always made him feel less, no matter how much we tried to make him understand. It especially hadn't helped when he couldn't protect Nina from those who might wish her harm. I could only hope he'd find a place to belong, a place to call home... perhaps one day we might see him again.

I knew that telling Mary so much about my family could be dangerous. She'd obviously realize, sooner or later, that for my sister to have had a husband and children before dying, she had to have been past a certain age, and if she'd been my twin... I never said it outright, but she was a bright child, I knew she could read between the lines (I'd no idea what I'd say if she ever asked, but I'd decided to cross that bridge when we got to it).

I was living a dream... we both were. One that came to an abrupt, and rather unexpected end just a few months later, in the last days of July. Kristin had approached me just a few days earlier to tell me that due to the economic situation the hospital would have to 'let go' some of its workers. Most of them would be janitors, a few orderlies and nurses, those who could be considered non-essential personnel. We both agreed that nurses were anything but non-essential... yet there was little either she or I could do about it. I knew just fine what her approaching me meant. My contract was coming to an end in August, and I wouldn't be offered a new one.

It didn't exactly hurt. While I liked Kristin, Alex and the rest of my co-workers just fine, it wasn't like I needed them, or that particular hospital to survive. So Mary and I sat down together in the living room and began brainstorming, trying to decide where we wanted to go. She had all sort of plans, a desire to travel everywhere, see the country... possibly even the world. I tried to convince her she was too young for that, but she could do it, someday. Meanwhile we needed to find a new place to work and live. She really wanted to go to California, thought it would be like in the movies; and while I knew better, I loved her enthusiasm and agreed we would give it a shot. We also began talking about changing her name (she hated her name with a passion...), but put it off until she'd decided one she truly liked.

The day we tentatively finalized our plans was also the first time Mary called me Mom (before that I'd always been Sally...

Then, less than a week later, Miss Matthews went to see me at the hospital. I didn't even need her to say a word. I knew why she was there...

Mary threw a tantrum, the likes of which she'd never done before. On the one hand, a part of me couldn't help but think that it was a good thing, if one compared her to the girl who'd sat on a gurney, the ER, with a dislocated arm and bruises all over and refused to so much as shed a tear; in that moment she knew what she wanted, and she wasn't afraid to let people know it... At the same time, we were in a situation we couldn't change. I still wasn't certified as a foster mother, wasn't what social services preferred, and the fact that I was losing my job, and would have to move to another city, another estate to have a hope at finding a job didn't make things any better. Things simply were beyond my power. Beyond any of us, and Mary needed to understand that.

"Mary..." I tried to call her several times, but she just wasn't listening. "Mary! Mary listen to me, look at me please!"

"I don't wanna go with her!" She practically wailed. "I wanna go with you! I wanna go home, please... I want us to go home..."

I felt like I was about to cry. I knew the place she was talking about; it wasn't our apartment in Las Cruces, not even the places we'd seen announced in Los Angeles... no, she was talking about the ranch in the desert, about my garden...

"Listen to me Mary, please..." I was on my knees, in front of her, holding her by the shoulders, making her look at me. "Listen to me. We cannot change that. No matter how much we might hate it. Truth is, the government is trying to look after you, and they think you need more than what I can offer you..."

"Well, they're wrong!" She said petulantly.

"Maybe they are, maybe they aren't." I murmured quietly. "Truth is, there are things I definitely cannot offer you, little one. I cannot give you a dad, or a family bigger than me. My parents are gone, as is my sister, and her children are busy..." I shook my head, forcing my mind to focus. "I know you want to cry and scream and demand that things be different. I want too. But I know that wouldn't change anything. So you shouldn't do it either. Show Miss Matthews and everyone else what a good girl you are. Can you do that?"

"Yes..." She murmured quietly.

It was obvious she still didn't like it, but a part of Mary was beginning to realize that her acting like a spoilt brat wasn't helping; all the opposite, it might make others think that I wasn't teaching her manners or something. So she calmed down. She still wasn't happy, but she wasn't throwing a tantrum anymore either.

"Now." I went on. "You have to go with Miss Matthews, who will take you to another place. Where you'll have another family who will love you..."

"They won't love me as much as you do..." She muttered.

"Maybe they will, maybe they won't." I whispered back to her. "But you know what? That doesn't change the fact that I love you, I will always love you. And you can do the same. Getting a new family doesn't mean you have to lose the old one. You remember I told you that?"

"Yes..." She admitted. "Like you love your Mama, and your Papa, and your Tate (Pops), and everyone else..."

"Exactly." I agreed with her. "You can have more than two parents, you can have as many as you want, and you can love them all. The heart is a wonderful thing, darling. The more people you love, the more love you have for all of them. It never runs out..."

"But I wanna be with you..." She whined, very quietly.

"I know you do, and I do too, but this we cannot change. Perhaps one day things might be different, but for now you need to be a big girl and go with Miss Matthews."

Eventually she nodded. She didn't like it, I could actually sense how much she hated it, but she was willing to do as I asked (I wondered if she could see the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes... I was fighting so hard to keep them from falling...)

"You will remember me, right?" She asked me, a hint of insecurity in her voice.

I hated that, hated whoever had decided I wasn't fit to be her foster mother for putting it there; I'd fought so hard to help her be confident, push aside her insecurities... and there they were again.

"Forever and ever." I assured her. "Whatever may happen, I will always remember you."

"I will remember you too." She assured me.

"I know you will." I nodded. "And I want you to remember something else. Whatever might happen, know that you will always have a home, okay? My home will always be yours too. And if you ever need me, I will always be there for you. No matter what happens, of how much time passes. You're my family Mary, and you always will be. Okay?"

"Okay." She nodded.

I embraced her tightly, and she held me back with all the strength she had, then she whispered in my ear, very softly:

"Skye... that will be my name one day. Skye Nova..."

"It's a beautiful name." I assured her, voice turning watery with the tears. "I love you, my Skye..."

"I love you Mom..." She kissed both my cheeks quickly.

I took a moment to kiss both her cheeks and then her brow, whispering quietly an old prayer in Yiddish, asking God to protect my little girl when I couldn't be there for her.

Abruptly she began tugging at the necklace she wore. The only piece of jewelry she never took off; she'd once told me she'd had it for as long as she could remember, and a part of her often dreamt that it was a special necklace, maybe an heirloom her birth-parents left her when they had to leave her for whatever the reason...). I stopped her before she could take it off.

"But I want you to have it..." She murmured.

"I know, I know you do. But I want you to keep it." It was important she did, I knew that instinctively, even if I had no idea why. "I promise I don't need a necklace to remember you by. You will always be in my mind."

"Okay." She nodded.

Miss Matthews, who'd been standing right there all along, finally stepped forward to touch Mary's shoulder. It was time for them to leave. Nothing more was said. My little girl (because, no matter what happened, she would always be my little girl), refused to take the social worker's hand, instead she took her suitcase, with everything I'd bought her, then she put on a long-sleeved plaid button down in shades of grey and a hint of dark blue... it was actually mine (and never mind that it was actually hot outside). No one said a word about it, just let her go.

Five minutes later I had packed all my things I was leaving the apartment, keys in the mailbox and an note of apology to my landlord. I was already on the road by the time I remembered to phone Kristin. I just told her I wasn't going back to the hospital, I still had two weeks on my contract but I just couldn't do it, I couldn't think about staying in that apartment, trying to go on with the same life, without my little girl. Nevermind that she hadn't been in my life for more than six months, she'd become so important to me in that time... Kristin promised she had my back, to take all the time I needed... She probably didn't believe me that I wasn't going back.

She did come through for me, in fact. I have no idea what she did, or how she did it, but I still got my last paycheck and several letters of recommendation to take wherever I might end up going. I had no idea where it would be, though I knew one thing for sure: it wouldn't be California, I couldn't even think about going there, not without Mary... no, not Mary. Skye, her name for me would always be Skye; Skye Nova, my daughter.

xXx

It would be impossible to know for sure how exactly I ended in Kansas of all places. And not just Kansas, but Smallville, Kansas. I'd been driving around, going from one city to the next. At times actively looking for a job, others acting like a tourist. There was something about Smallville that almost 'called' to me. It was a small town, smaller than Las Cruces, than Deming even, and yet I liked the feeling I got when I was there.

When I went to the hospital they told me they had no openings, though I wasn't too put out by that. Truth was, I wasn't sure I wanted to work in a hospital again, or not just yet in any case. And I wasn't sure I wanted to go through the bother of creating a new identity so I might go to college again (nor was I in a mood to even go through college again so soon). And then one of the nurses told me that there was an opening at the local High School. The pay was less than it'd have been in a hospital, and the job would probably be boring, mostly dealing with sports' injuries, clumsy students and perhaps some vaccinations. I didn't mind, it was something to do (and it reminded me just a bit of the Institute... the memory of which didn't hurt as much as it once had).

I found no apartments, though there were a number of houses for sale. It seemed to me like a number of people would rather leave Smallville than live in it. I suppose most people found big cities better... having lived in such, I wouldn't agree, but that was just me. In the end I found a house I liked, it had three bedrooms, a living area that served as both dining-room and sitting-room, and a kitchen with an island where I'd probably be eating most of the time. The agent who sold it to me probably expected me to tell him that family would be joining me soon, I let him make his assumptions. I went to Metropolis to buy what I was missing (the house already came with a fair amount of furniture).

It took me a weekend to settle. I had my bedroom, with all my favorite things. The second one I fixed with the few things Skye hadn't taken. If the day ever came (unlikely as it might seem), I wanted to be able to tell her that she'd always had a room wherever I lived. The third bedroom I made into a study; though I bought a sofa-bed and put it on one side so it could be turned into a guest-bedroom if there was ever the need.

The last thing I bought was a scooter. A nice little red Vespa (my favorite color). Everything seemed to be fairly close in Smallville, and I'd never really liked driving a car, the scooter was much easier to deal with. Still, I kept my car, left it in the driveway for whenever I needed to travel to Metropolis, or elsewhere (which, I hoped, wouldn't be often).

I started my job the following Monday and managed to call attention straight out, quite possibly due to my method of transportation. I didn't care, it'd been many years indeed since I'd worried about what people might think about me. I settled what paperwork was necessary, and then went to make myself comfortable in the infirmary.

The first month on the job was fairly easy, my patients were mostly teen-aged boys who'd gotten hurt in various ways during football tryouts or pranks. I'd always thought some people took sports way too seriously; again that was probably just me. Still, I treated them professionally and then sent them off. There were a handful who went to me with stories about tooth-ache, stomach-ache and whatever other ache they could think of; though I knew straight out they were lying; they were only there out of curiosity about the new nurse. By the end of September I was quite sure everyone knew what I looked like, how old I was (supposedly 21), that I was probably single (since I had no ring on my finger, most likely), and that it was a very bad idea for students to try and lie to me about being sick, because I could smell a lie a mile away!

I was pretty much laughing to myself as I made my way back home that afternoon, in October, when a sharp emotion hit me abruptly. It was fear... no, not fear, it was more than that, closer to panic in fact (either that of the origin of the emotion felt more strongly than anyone I'd known...).

I didn't even think about it, just took a sharp turn and pressed my scooter as fast as it would go in the direction where I could sense the emotion. The first thing I saw was a bridge, the railing on one side was broken, showing a car had gone off it. That wasn't good. I pushed my Vespa past the bridge, vaguely noticing the metal coil on the road, I didn't actually pay attention (aside from taking a second to kick it off the road, just in case), though a part of my mind connected it with the car that had obviously gone off the bridge. I stopped the vespa after getting off the bridge (and the road, the last thing I needed was to cause another accident), and half-ran, half-slid down to the riverbank, where a young man in light-blue jeans and a tanned jacket was bent over an unconscious man in dark clothes... who seemed to not be breathing at all... and that definitely wasn't good at all!

My instincts kicked in, and in seconds I was kneeling beside the younger man (though his size was big, bigger than me, bigger than Hakon even!), I helped him give the other male, with alabaster skin (even paler than Papa's, and I didn't even know that was possible), with not a single hair on his head, and dark clothes, CPR. It took a while, longer than I was entirely comfortable with, but eventually he responded, began breathing, and coughing out water. I wasn't the first one he saw, his eyes went straight to the younger man (he was probably just a teenager, I realized as I looked closer at him).

"I could have sworn I hit you." Were first words I heard from the older male, his eyes fixed straight on his savior.

"If you did, I'd be... I'd be dead." The teenager tried to make it sound like a joke or something, but I could sense his hesitation, his fear.

There was something going on, I had no idea what it was, but it was there.

The operator on the 911 service finally picked up then, and as I began speaking, explaining where I was (to the best of my knowledge) and what I believed had happened, both young men turned to look at me.

"Are you alright?" I asked the older man once I finished the call. "That was a hell of a lot of water you managed to take in."

"I'm fine." He answered, turning to look over his shoulder, then back at me. "Thanks to the both of you, I think."

"He did all the hard work." I said with a light shrug. "I just happened to arrive at the end of it. Not like I was really needed." I remembered something else and added immediately: "Rosalie Nova, pleasure to meet you."

"Lex Luthor, the pleasure is all mine." He answered, seemingly in automatic.

"Clark Kent." The younger man offered, before turning to look at me. "You're the new nurse!"

"That I am." I nodded with a small smile, before focusing on Luthor. "Would you mind if I check you over a bit? I still think you took too long to answer to the CPR..."

"I'm just fine, you have nothing to worry about..." He began, then, seeing something on my face he added. "If it'll put you at ease, go right ahead..."

I didn't have any equipment on me, but that was alright, I could do enough on my own. And he was right. His breathing sounded alright, his pulse and heartbeat were a bit fast, but that was only to be expected, after what he'd just gone through. He was a tad cold, but that would be fixed as soon as the ambulance arrived and someone gave both him and Kent blankets. I couldn't be sure that there was no water left in his lungs, but all in all, it seemed Luthor really was alright.

I was just finishing my check-out when the ambulance arrived, the paramedics rushing towards us. I gave them my name, explained what I'd done, though I imagined they'd probably insist on doing everything themselves. Meanwhile I chose to approach Kent, who'd managed to convince the paramedics he was alright, and had been given a blanket, as he stood beside the river.

"Are you alright?" I asked him quietly.

"Fine, I wasn't the one who nearly drowned." He answered, and I could almost pick up the hint of... 'something' there; he was trying to avoid saying, possibly even thinking about something, though I had no idea what exactly.

"No, you weren't." I agreed, choosing to push other things aside for the time being. "But saving a life can be as shocking as needing to be saved, sometimes. Especially when you'd never been in such a situation before..."

"I just... I did what anyone would do." He murmured, sounding a bit lost.

"Oh Kent, you'd be surprised." I admitted with a low chuckle.

"You wouldn't have done it?" He asked, eyes narrowing just a bit.

"Of course I would have!" I replied instantly. "But not everyone in this world is like you and me. Not even everyone in this town. Not everyone is... good."

I could think of quite a few people who weren't good: Stryker was the first name that came to mind; really if I never saw that man again I would be very happy... though I didn't think I'd be getting that particular wish.

Kent shook his head silently, and I wasn't sure if he didn't agree with my assessment, or if he just didn't want to think about it anymore. I chose to let the matter rest.

The paramedics were just finishing when a blonde man in his late forties or possibly early fifties arrived, he didn't look happy. Of course, when that man turned out to be Johnathan Kent, the father of the teenager who'd 'almost' been hit by Luthor's car... yeah, he definitely wasn't happy.

xXx

The next afternoon, when I got back home from work I found a bouquet of dark pink roses in full bloom on my porch, and a laptop computer, the best on the market. At first I couldn't help but laugh, really, I didn't need a card to know who had left those things there, or why; once that passed I had one thought: If I got sent flowers and a computer just for helping with the CPR, what had Kent been sent exactly? Whatever it was, it probably wouldn't be good.

I didn't send the gifts back. A part of me wanted to, the part that thought it wasn't right, to accept gifts for saving a life (or helping save a life), I hadn't rushed there for payment, or for any kind of reward. Just to help. But I knew the kind of person Lex Luthor was, even without having truly met him. He was the kind of man who didn't quite understand why some people might do things, might give of themselves to others, without expecting something in exchange. Exchange was, in the end, all he really understood. And so I responded to that.

I took two of the flowers, before they began wilting at all, bought the necessary materials, and preserved them in resin. Using identical molds. Then I drove to Luthor mansion and left one of the projects with the butler, along with a short letter. It didn't really surprise me when Luthor approached me the next day after I exited the market, groceries in hand.

"Would you like a ride, Miss Nova?" He offered, stopping beside me.

I had a feeling I knew why he was there, and that he'd keep pushing if I said no, so I decided to make things easier for both of us.

"Why not?" I asked in return.

He stopped the car completely then. Stepping out and going around, taking the bags from my hands and placing them on the back-seat of the car, before opening the front door so I could get into the passenger seat; then he closed the door and went back to the wheel.

"What a gentleman..." I quipped with a small smile. "Thank you Mr. Luthor."

"Lex, please." He asked of me. "My father is Mr. Luthor."

"Then I must insist you call me Rosalie." I replied, still smiling. "It's only fair after all."

"Of course, Rosalie." He agreed.

For several seconds there was silence inside the car, I didn't tell him where to go, I knew I didn't need to. Though eventually it was I who broke the silence.

"Now, what did you want to ask me?" I asked him.

"What makes you think I want to ask you anything?" He inquired in return.

"You offered to take me home." I began enlisting. "I haven't told you were to go, you haven't asked me, yet you obviously know where you're going. I also don't think you usually drive by the supermarket on Saturday afternoons..."

"I don't." He admitted, then added. "You know, most people would be uneasy at the thought that I know where they live, without them having told me."

"To be fair, this is Smallville." I pointed out. "Practically everyone knows where everyone lives."

"True." He agreed. "But I'm not really from Smallville... and neither are you."

"So you did investigate me then." I nodded, mostly to myself, having expected that. "Did you find anything interesting?"

"You studied Nursing for three years in New Mexico State University, then worked for a year in the local hospital, only to leave two weeks before the end of your contract." He commented. "With no explanation why..."

"I knew I wouldn't be getting another contract and simply didn't see the point of staying around." I answered with a careless shrug.

"However, the most interesting part was how you seem to appear out of nowhere in 1997, the same year when you started studying Nursing... aside from a birth-certificate and social security number, Rosalie Nova doesn't seem to have existed before then..."

"And why do you think that is?" I asked in return.

"I have no idea." Lex deadpanned. "I suppose you could be a criminal mastermind trying to hide away in a small town; or perhaps you're in witness protection... though if you are I have to tell you, your records aren't exactly safe..."

I couldn't help myself, I laughed at that.

"You know, most people would be upset at the fact that a total stranger is investigating them." He pointed out, with a half smile. "You...? You just laugh."

"What would the point be in getting upset?" I asked him, shaking my head. "It wouldn't change anything. You already investigated me... Though it would seem that you found less than you would have wished..."

"Why do you not exist before going to college Rosalie?" He asked, finally, straight out.

"I do exist, of course I do." I told him, still smiling. "It's not like I appeared out of the blue..." I made a pause, considering the best way to tell the truth, without giving away too much. "Rosalie Nova isn't the name I was born with, as you probably know, or at least suspect already. I will not tell you what my name used to be. I left it, and that life, behind, and I want nothing to do with it, not right now." I pondered over it for a moment. "Perhaps one day I shall go back, but not now. I'm not ready."

"You know, you're being incredibly honest with me, considering I'm a complete stranger..."

"People only lie when they cannot accept the truth, or they're afraid of it. At leas that's my philosophy. I'm not afraid of who I am, or who I was. That doesn't give you a right to the information, mind you. You may ask questions I choose not to answer. But in such occasions I'd rather tell, straight out, when I wish not to answer, than lie. It's not that I cannot do it, I just find it too tedious. Having to remember the lies I've told... it's a waste of time, memory, and effort."

"You're such an interesting person!"

"Thank you. I myself don't consider I'm anything special." I shrugged my shoulders. "Now that we've cleared that part out, will you tell me what you wanted to ask me, exactly? Or was my name your only interest?"

"Not at all. I was curious about the flower you sent back... Well, I suppose it wouldn't be exactly right to call it that, considering what you did to it. What did you do to it, by the way?"

"You may call it resin preservation. It's a technique some collectors use... I prefer it above drying flowers, it allows the blossoms to retain a truer, more natural beauty."

"Indeed. Why did you send it to me?"

"I thought it was only fair. I kept another for myself, you see, so we both might have a reminder of the day we met. So you might have a reminder of how fortunate you are, to be alive..."

"Fortunate I am indeed... even if some do not seem to appreciate my thanks as much as you do."

"So Kent did return whatever it was you sent him."

"You know about that?!" He obviously wasn't expecting that.

"Not really. It's more an educated guess. I saw his father that day, the way he reacted... he didn't seem like the kind of man who would accept a reward... or allow his son to accept it. And really, people who have the will to help others, do not do it for some sort of payment."

"You accepted my gifts just fine."

"I did. But I had an unfair advantage, I think. I understand why you did it, in a way Mr. Kent perhaps does not."

"According to Clark, he doesn't like my father."

"And that makes him predisposed against you. Sadly, that's not uncommon. Cannot say I've ever met Lionel Luthor myself..."

"You have no idea how lucky you've been then."

"But I've known men like him. Men, and women, who believe themselves entitled to things, and perhaps even to people, simply because they have money." I shook my head slowly. "It's a sad reality of this world, that the ones with the money, many times are the ones to make the rules... or break them, to their convenience."

"Interesting philosophy. And are you one of those people, Rosalie?"

"I have money, I will not deny it. Perhaps not in the amounts your family, or some others do... but I don't need it. I'm quite aware that money cannot, in fact, buy everything."

"What has money not bought for you...?"

The conversation had turned so solemn, and the way we were leaning towards each other... I hadn't even noticed it when we arrived to my place. I was drawn to him, there was something about him... it wasn't like with Peter, not at all. It wasn't sexual, but there was something about Lex Luthor that called to me, to a part of me. A part of me wanted to know what it was, what made him so special my senses were tingling at his presence; another part was afraid; the last time I'd felt that way was when I'd had that long, terrifying, vision about Charles and Erik...

"The lives of people I loved..." I answered, very quietly.

I slipped out of the car before he could fully process what I'd just said. I knew he wouldn't understand it. There were no records of anything happening to the parents of Rosalie Nova, and there were no siblings, no significant other... it had been easier that way. Then again, he knew Rosalie Nova wasn't real. Perhaps that might keep him busy for a while. In any case, I knew it wouldn't be the last time I saw Lex Luthor, not by a long shot.

xXx

Of course, from all the towns I could end up living in, it had to be the one where freaky stuff happened. It was like the Norns were laughing at me or something. Because really, Lana Lang having visions of a psycho trying to kill Chloe Sullivan, a telekinetic seeking revenge from the people who hurt him, a queen bee (literally), a mind-reader, guys who could go through walls, people who could make themselves invisible, a cryokinetic, a pyrokinetic?! I took especial offense to that last one, fire was my element, and I hated the idea that someone had used it to kill innocents. Then there had been the supposedly extinct Nicodemus flower, since two of those affected had been high-school students: Lana Lang and Pete Ross, I had been one of those seeing to them (also, there were those who refused to get close, fearing their condition might be contagious or something). Thankfully Lex's people had found a cure in time (I'd never wished so much for my mother as I did that day... even if I have no idea how I could have ever explained her gift, had she been there in time to help).

Some of the 'meteor freaks' (Sullivan's term for them, not mine) weren't so bad. I suspected that they either had psychological issues, and the sudden manifestation of abilities pushed them over the edge; or somehow the gift itself was causing an imbalance of some kind. However, I wasn't a psychologist (or a psychiatrist), and being a nurse only got me so far, so while I shared my theories with others, I knew there wasn't much that could be done about them. In the end, the lives of those kids weren't in my hands.

It was during the spring formal, during the second half of the school year, that things truly got beyond insane. I was attending, as one of the chaperons, dressed in a simple knee-length pale-pink dress with roses of a darker pink on the hem, and a light shawl the same shade of those roses, as well as dark-pink low-heels. Then the alarms began blaring.

It was a Tornado! A bloody tornado! (And like Max would say, my British was showing...). It was a good thing that I was well trained on how to act under stress, because otherwise I probably would have just stood there and stared... Instead I managed to help get the students to the safest place possible (vaguely noticing that very few homes had storm-shelters). I also noticed that Clark (he'd insisted on me calling him by his first name at some point) was nowhere to be found, and while Chloe looked somewhat frantic, I just couldn't focus on that. (Really, considered all the freaky things that always seemed to happen, and how Clark seemed to end up at least indirectly involved, I was almost ready to bet that he would be in the middle of that mess too!)

Once the worst had passed I hurried to the hospital, where I offered myself as a volunteer. By that point people knew I was good at my job, so I was accepted immediately.

I was there when Lana was brought in, apparently she'd been in the middle of it all and somehow she'd managed to get away with nothing more than light scrapes and bruises... I also watched as Lionel Luthor arrived (though he, at least, wouldn't be staying long before being moved to Metropolis or some other -supposedly better- hospital); it was said that he'd hit his head, though it would be a while before we knew for sure how that affected him.

All in all, things weren't as bad as I expected them to (it had been a tornado after all!). The town spent most of the summer rebuilding, and I helped where I could, everyone did. It was one of the things I'd grown to like about small towns, the way everyone seemed always so willing to help their neighbors, they were all a community (well, with some obvious exceptions, but still).

Someone had an idea at some point, about a first-aid course, mostly so people would know what to do in case of an emergency, so they might be able to help others. I was one of the people involved in teaching it (mostly since, with it being the summer break, I didn't really have much to do, other than my volunteer work in the hospital). It was nice, yet something else that reminded me of the Institute...

My second year in Smallville... well, I didn't exactly expect it to be better than the first, though I think it somehow managed to be even worse. At the same time, I was beginning to grow used to the whole thing. And not just the metas that seemed to pop up at least once a month, but also the fact that aside of a few people in town (most of them Smallville High students) no one seemed to notice that what was going on wasn't normal! And then when people did notice... it didn't end well, not for anyone.

And it wasn't even just the metas, or the day Clark went all 'bad boy' on us (which was quite bizarre, actually), or Lionel with his blindness, Lex with his anger issues (which caused him trouble, yet at the same time seemed to lead him to a good woman, who appeared to love him, and whom he came to love... so it probably balanced somewhat), but then there was a woman claiming to be Clark's birth-mother (and that his father was none other than Lionel Luthor!), who went all psycho when proven wrong; or Lex's actual half-brother, who was eventually found and caused all sorts of trouble himself; Lionel and Martha Kent being taken hostage in Metropolis, an attempt by someone to assassinate Lionel, and parasitic worms that turned people into daredevils (that one was an absolute mess, really).

And then Martha Kent fell sick...

Actually, the problem wasn't Martha Kent falling sick, though that was bad enough. Infected with irradiated spores, the people from the DCA called it... No, the real trouble was when Clark got infected as well.

I will never know what exactly made Lana decide to call me, instead of Dr. Helen Bryce (who happened to be Martha's doctor, as well as Lex's girlfriend). In the end, it was probably a good thing she did.

Between Mr. Kent and I we managed to get Clark into the house and on a sofa... and then things got interesting. I was trying to get his vitals, when Johnathan sent Lana out and began talking very quietly to me:

"Clark was exposed to the same toxin his mother was." The man blurted out with no warning.

"What...?" My response was automatic, though if I was honest with myself, I wasn't really that surprised by the revelation. "I suppose there must be a very good reason why you haven't called an ambulance already?"

"I have a very good reason." He nodded.

"The kind that you'd rather not talk about, I bet." I went on.

"You don't seem that surprised." The man narrowed his eyes at me. "What do you know?"

"Precisely? Nothing at all." I answered with absolute honesty. "But I can make a few educated guesses. You must know Mr. Kent, that I'm neither blind nor stupid. Most of the people in this town might choose to turn a blind eye to all the oddities that happen in this town, but I'm not one of them. I cannot be, especially when the students under my care keep ending in my infirmary, or the hospital, due to the things that are going on." I took a deep breath before adding, more softly. "I know that your son is one of the gifted. I have no idea what kind of gifted he is, and I care not to find out. That is your business, not mine. I understand that his status might make it so you'd rather he not go to a hospital, and while I can promise to do my best to help him... you need to understand that I am a nurse, not a doctor. There's a limit to what I can do to help him... then again, considering that he's never been among those that end up in my infirmary, or the hospital, I'm not sure even a doctor would be able to do more."

"So you will keep this private?" He was just interested about that.

"I will keep this private." I nodded. "I won't even take blood, though I should. I can guess that he's been affected by the same thing Martha has, and it'd be too dangerous to take his blood. Even if I did try to do all tests myself... that's not a risk I want to take."

"Thank you." There was so much relief on the man's voice, I could hardly swallow. "Thank you Miss Nova, truly."

"Call me Rosalie." I told him with a small smile. "I'll have to get to the hospital, try and find what they're giving your wife, see if I can get some of it for Clark. It might help, it might not, it certainly won't hurt him. However, if he doesn't get better... we'll need to call someone else, someone better able to help."

"No hospitals." Johnathan insisted.

"No." I shook my head. "Someone else."

I really hoped Charles knew someone. I wasn't going to call him just yet, not unless there was no other choice; but if he couldn't help, I had no idea who might...

"Someone else..." The Kent patriarch repeated. "Wait a second, a few minutes ago, did you say Clark was one of 'the gifted'. And kinds of gifted? Whatever are you talking about?!"

"You've heard, I suppose, about the theory Chloe Sullivan has, that the people here in Smallville who are different, they were affected by the meteors?"

"I've heard of it. Can't say I'm convinced." I could tell there was something about that theory that really bothered him, though I had no idea what it was exactly.

"It's not exactly impossible." I offered. "There are people in this world who are born perfectly normal, only to be... changed, by an event. Usually something big, something that allows them to survive... And that's only one kind of gifted." I smiled softly. "Your son's not alone, Mr. Kent, not by a long shot."

"I... I had no idea." He admitted quietly. "And Rosalie, please call me Johnathan."

xXx

In the end, there was very little I could actually do for Clark. At least I could stay with him, keep watch over him, for most of the day (I was taking some days off the school), allowing Johnathan to spend that time in the hospital, by Martha's bedside. I was there when Chloe dropped by, wanting to see Clark... when she pulled out a letter and confessed her deepest feelings to a man so far gone he couldn't hear a word she said, only to whisper a single word afterwards, a name that wasn't hers...

I caught up with Chloe as she was about to leave:

"Chloe..." I called to her quietly.

"Ah!" She exclaimed, she'd apparently forgotten I was there. "Nurse Nova!"

"Call me Rosalie." I told her softly. "If I may offer a piece of advice..."

"You... ah... you heard me?" She seemed so flustered, almost ashamed.

"Yes." I didn't see the point in lying to her. "Never, never be ashamed of your feelings Chloe."

"I don't think that's what you wanted to say." She muttered.

"No, it isn't." I admitted. "But I'll say this first. I will never tell anyone what you said today, not even Clark. Though I do believe he deserves to hear you say it." I shook my head, it wasn't my choice to make. "I will keep your secret. I'm a good secret keeper, you know?"

"You keep many secrets then?" She asked, somewhat curious.

"More than you could possibly imagine." I admitted. "Some my own, though most aren't. People know they can trust me, that I'll never betray them, no matter what."

"I wish Clark could trust me." She admitted softly. "Though with recent events..."

"You made a mistake Chloe, everyone makes those every once in a while. It's not the end of the world. Clark will trust you again, just show him that you're deserving of that trust." I let out a sigh. "Anyway, that wasn't what I wanted to say. I know you might not be ready to hear this but, don't give up on Clark just yet. I know what you said, and I heard what he said... but you must know that while Lana might be Clark's first love... that doesn't mean she'll be his last, and that's what truly counts. Not the girl he might love today, or tomorrow, or a year from now, but the one he'll choose to stay with for the rest of his life."

I couldn't be sure if it was my words, something in my tone, my expression, or what exactly, but a light seemed to come back on in Chloe's eyes as I said that. I could almost see, almost feel, the hope rekindling in her soul.

"Thank you Mi... Rosalie." She smiled at me, before turning to leave.

And in the fraction of a second before the door closed behind her I saw it, a thin, delicate thread of colorful light began unfurling... the beginnings of a bond...

A couple of days later I woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, to a rush of power going straight through me. Power like I'd never felt before, and I knew something had happened. The next day the news were all around town, Martha had had a miraculous recovery, right after Dr. Bryce had feared she wouldn't pass the night; Johnathan also informed me Clark was alright and I didn't need to watch over him anymore. They didn't tell me how it had happened, and I didn't ask either, because I wasn't only good at keeping secrets, I also knew when to stand back and wait for people to trust me with them.

xXx

I blinked a few times, trying to understand where I was, what was going on. I knew instinctively that it was night, yet there was light, an unnatural light in that room. The room... a storm-cellar! And not just any storm cellar, but the Kent's! I was having a vision?! I was so shocked by it, I hadn't had any visions in so long... that it took me a while, probably longer than it should have, to truly pay attention to what was going on around me, Clark was there and talking to someone... who wasn't there. A voice coming from thin air... or from the odd sphere floating in the air?!

"You must let go of your past." The male voice was saying. "I will guide you to your future."

"No, I don't want your guidance!" Clark sounded desperate. "I want to create my own future!"

"You have no choice, Kal-El."

I really, really didn't like the sound of that; chose to focus on that instead of the odd name... and the fact that something really freaky was going on. In the blink of an eye, the scene changed; it was the same place, but it was no longer night, Clark was there, along with Johnathan and Martha, and there was something else... something that looked like a space-pod!

"Whatever your biological father might have had in mind for you, they're his hopes and dreams, not yours." Martha tried to convince his son.

"Clark, you choose your own destiny." Johnathan added. "No one can decide that for you, son."

"This is my home." Clark announced. "And you're my parents. It's where I belong, and I'm not going anywhere."

Somehow, I didn't think it was going to be that easy.

I was right, of course. I didn't get to hear what was being said in the next scene, but the mark burnt into Clark's chest seemed to speak for itself, as far as I was concerned, as did the expression on the young man's face.

Another jump, and suddenly I was seeing Clark and Pete, still in the same cellar, talking. Clark was looking even more desperate than before, and Pete didn't look much better:

"Because, Pete, I know what I have to do." Clark was saying. "They'll never agree with me in a million years. I have to destroy the ship."

"What? Clark no." Pete clearly didn't agree. "This thing traveled millions of miles through space. I don't think we can dent it, much less destroy it."

"What if we had a Kryptonite key?"

I had no idea what Kryptonite was, but I knew, instinctively, it couldn't be good.

I blinked a few times as I got used to the fact that I was suddenly not in the storm cellar anymore, instead I stood in the middle of nowhere... well no, not quite nowhere. It was clearly Smallville, just not the main part of the town. Closer to all the farms. I turned several times around, trying to find whatever had taken me there, and eventually I saw it, a red truck, the Kents' truck.

Then came the boom, a loud explosion, somewhere in the distance, I spun around abruptly, in time to see a bright white light in the distance, and a ring of energy expanding, coming my way... our way. The truck passed me right then, though it didn't go very far. Johnathan had apparently seen the energy as well, he tried to swerve to avoid it, but it was simply too much, we went into a field, the truck tiping over and flipping several times. I could hear Martha's scream.

I jackknifed involuntarily as I was pulled abruptly from the vision and back into the real world. All around me, the candles I kept in my room were lit up, columns of flame reaching high, but I didn't pay any attention to them, not even to the fact that I'd just had a vision, a real one, for the first time in eleven years. All I could think about was Martha's scream... I needed to stop it, somehow. I needed to save her... and just like that, for the first time since the loss of Peter, since leaving Westchester, I had a true purpose again.

Chapter Text

Rose's Thorns

Thorns may be Danger, but they're also a Protection to those who might need it.

Lex's and Helen's wedding was a beautiful affair. I was in a simple but quite pretty peach colored dress, the bride's maid of honor. (Not sure why I was chosen exactly, aside from the fact that Helen didn't seem to have a lot of friends in Smallville). I noticed that Clark hadn't arrived in time to stand in as Lex's best man like he was supposed to, yet the significance of that did not become evident until I realized Martha and Johnathan had left as well.

I didn't want to worry the bride and groom, not when things already seemed... off, somehow. I could sense it, something wasn't right with them, but I was more worried about my vision and simply didn't have time to focus on the newlyweds. I told myself there would be time to revisit those feelings, and instead did my best to fulfill my duties as a maid of honor. Then, the moment they were on the limo and on their way to the plane, I ran.

I briefly thought about finding a car, but I had been picked up that morning, early so I'd be able to help Helen get ready, and therefore I didn't have my scooter. There were other things, like the fact that the roads might take longer, and I didn't want to put other people at risk with the explosion I knew was coming. So instead I ran straight to the forest, kicked off my heels when they got in the way, and then went straight into the fields.

I've always been a fast runner, my family had always assumed it was somehow related to my Ljósálfar heritage, and while I couldn't know for sure, I was willing to believe that. Whatever the reason, I didn't care, all that mattered to me was getting to where I needed to be in time to make a difference (What was the point of seeing an upcoming tragedy if you didn't try to change it? Yes, I still believed in that).

By some kind of miracle I managed to come out of the fields and into the road, ahead of the red truck. I didn't even think about it, I ran to the middle of the road and began waving my arms frantically until Johnathan stopped less than two yards away from me.

"Are you insane?!" He yelled at me, half-annoyed, half-worried.

"Rosalie?" Martha asked. "Is everything alright?"

"How did you even get here ahead of us?" Johnathan asked, then shook his head. "There's no time for this, we need to get to the farm."

"There really is no time." I agreed. "You need to get out of the truck now."

They really did, I could feel the beginnings of the explosion already, a slight vibration beneath my feet, and the echo of a power beginning to rise. I opened the passenger door and half-pulled, half-persuaded Martha out.

"Rosalie!" Johnathan yelled, going after us. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"There's no time to argue, we need to get to cover, now!" I yelled back at him, still pulling at Martha's arm.

There was a house nearby, but I had no idea if it would be able to stand the coming energy. So instead I pulled Martha to the nearest trees, Johnathan followed.

"Rosalie!" He was yelling at me. "I want you to let Martha go and tell me what the hell is going on?! Why are you doing this?! We need to find Clark..."

"Get down!" I yelled, completely ignoring him.

For good measure I draped my body over Martha's, holding onto my bracelet tightly, hoping the power in it might be enough to protect us from what was coming... I could feel the moment the energy hit us. It was almost like a burn, but not quite... I'd never been burned, but I'd been shot, I knew pain, and I could feel like it wanted to hit me, the way the bracelet around my right wrist grew hot, the magic in it fighting against whatever was trying to hurt me, to hurt us all (though it seemed to be targeting Martha especially, for some reason). I heard her scream and could do nothing except hold on, and pray to the stars that my actions would be enough in the end. I lost consciousness with that prayer still in my mind.

xXx

I woke up the next day, to find none other than Martha Kent sitting by my bedside. That was quite the shock... it didn't get better once I actually began asking questions.

She was alright, at least that had worked. I had suffered burns in my back and arms, though those were healing already, faster than some might have expected (good thing it was Smallville, and no one batted an eyelash at such things).

The worst part, was finding out that Clark was gone. Something had happened while I was unconscious. A conversation between Johnathan and Clark had gone wrong, and Clark had taken off that same afternoon, on a bike and en-route to Metropolis. No one knew when he was coming back (and I knew there was something else no one was telling me, though I chose not to ask).

The Kents insisted that I recuperate in the farm, as they felt somewhat responsible for me, seeing how I got injured while trying to keep them safe...

"How did you know?" Johnathan asked after we got installed. "How did you know that would happen? The explosion and... and..."

"I didn't know everything that would happen, exactly." I tried to explain. "And even the things I did... I had no way of knowing when they would happen... not until I realized you were gone, and Clark had never arrived... I ran as fast as I could, and I barely got there in time!"

"You ran?!" Martha gasped.

"Why us?" Johnathan insisted. "What did you know exactly?"

"I saw Clark in the storm-cellar, talking to a disembodied voice." I began enlisting. "Saw him talking to you, about future, and destiny... saw him talking to Pete, about wanting to destroy some ship... and then I saw an explosion taking place, and your truck flipping over, and Martha screaming... I had no idea when any of it had happened, or would happen. But when you left the wedding I just knew time was running out. I couldn't stop the explosion from happening, because I didn't know exactly what caused it, but I could do my best to protect you."

"You keep saying you saw..." Johnathan muttered, beginning to connect the dots.

"It's exactly what you're thinking Johnathan." I nodded at him. "When I spoke of gifted... I wasn't talking just about people I've met."

"You're one of them." Johnathan finished for me.

"I am." I nodded, almost proudly (I could be proud of it, having done something good with my powers again). "I have been... well, I suppose one might say I've been one my whole life, though I first manifested when I was five..." I shook my head, pushing the memory of my very first mission aside, it wasn't the time to get lost in memories of my sister. "To be honest with you, I hadn't had a true Vision in more than a decade."

"A vision?" Martha repeated, seemingly trying to understand.

"I have the Sight." I explained. "It's how I saw those things. Most of the time, when I'm meant to do something about it, I pick up things, locations, a time..." I let out a breath, pushing yet another memory, of the last time I hadn't been able to do anything at all. "I was very lucky this time."

"We were very lucky." Martha corrected softly, a hand on her belly, which was just beginning to swell. "You saved our lives."

Yes I had, and stars it felt good to be able to do that again!

"Where's Clark?" I asked very quietly.

It was as if my question had doused the fire of their happiness. So much grief I almost gasped.

"It was my fault." Johnathan admitted quietly.

It was worse than I'd been expecting. Apparently Martha had ended in a bed of her own in Smallville Medical Center for that first night, and there had been a chance that she might lose the baby. When Clark had arrived to the hospital... when he'd explained what had happened... well his father hadn't taken it well. It had never been his intent to blame Clark for Martha ending on the hospital, for the fact that they might lose the baby, but his words could be interpreted that way, Clark certainly had taken them that way. And so he was gone.

xXx

I recovered from the explosion fairly quickly, and even then I didn't leave. I could see that it was all taking a toll on Martha and Johnathan, and I didn't want to leave them alone. Lana tried to be there for them as well, but it wasn't easy. Especially when Martha needed to see an obstetrician, as her pregnancy had become high-risk. It wasn't cheap, and ever so slowly the Kents began falling into debt again. I tried to help them where I could, but it wasn't easy, especially because Johnathan was too proud to accept outright help.

At least one thing I could do to help. When LuthorCorp showed little interest in keeping up with the deal Lex had made with Lana, I offered myself as an investor for the Talon. I had the money, so why not use it? She agreed and a contract was drawn. While Lex was still technically part-owner of the place, I came to own another part.

Then there was the fact that Lex was missing. Helen Bryce-Luthor had appeared days after the wedding, with a heart-breaking (and completely false) story about her new husband sacrificing himself so she might live...

"How are you so sure she's lying?" Martha asked, curious, the day after the funeral.

It'd been three months, and Lionel had finally given up.

"I..." I considered if I should be keeping some of my own secrets, and in the end decided that they already knew I was different, so... "I'm not sure how to explain it. Mama used to call it empathy, but it's not quite that. It goes beyond feeling another person's emotions, I can pick up on what they feel, and what makes them act a certain way... also people cannot lie to me." I re-considered that, then revised. "Well, they can, but they cannot get away with it. I know. I can tell when people are trying to lie to me."

"Does that mean that you know...?" She didn't dare finish the question.

"That I could tell every time you, Johnathan, Clark, and anyone else in this town lied to me about anything? You bet." I smirked at her. "It's okay, I know why most of you do it. It can be scary, being different, especially when you think you're all alone..."

"But they're not." Martha murmured, as if she was just realizing that. "They're not alone. None of you are alone."

"No, we aren't." I smiled at her brightly. "And you aren't either, Martha. Trust me, you're not the first person, the first fully human person, to love a gifted. Mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, lovers... there are so many of us, so many of you, all around the world. The world... the universe, is a bigger place than you could imagine."

"I'm beginning to see that." Martha nodded quietly.

Of course things just had to get harder after that. The debt had finally gotten so bad... the Kents were losing the farm. At least I managed to convince them to move in with me for a while, until something better came up (and after staying with them for almost three months, they had to let me pay them back the favor).

So I forced myself to put away most of the things I still had that were meant for Skye, and made sure the room was serviceable for them. As far as I was concerned, they could stay indefinitely. Most of the stuff would be kept in storage, at the Ross's garage (which was good, since I didn't really have that much free space at my own place). I knew it hurt them, to have to leave the farm, a place that been in the Kent family for three generations, that was supposed to be their heritage... and yet they were so strong, willing to move on, to surpass any challenge life placed before them. I hoped I could one day be as strong as them (perhaps one day I'd stop running from my own past, from my grief). And then the phone call came...

I had no idea how it began, exactly. I just happened to enter the room in time to see both Kents pressed against the phone:

"Clark..." Martha was calling, and there was such pain in her voice, in her heart, that even though I always said I wasn't really empathic, I felt it deep inside.

"Son, that's not true." Johnathan tried to convince him.

Clark's response on the other side of the line came loud enough even I heard it:

"I'm not your son! And you're not my parents, you never have been. You never will be!"

The call ended then, but the Kents didn't let go of the phone. I didn't say a word, just waited.

"I've got to go get him." Johnathan announced after what seemed like forever.

"How, Johnathan?" Martha asked in turn. "If he sees you he could either run, or if he's angry enough he could hurt you. You can't stop him."

"Martha, if I don't go and get him now, we may lose him forever." Johnathan murmured.

Johnathan didn't pay me the slightest bit of attention, just walked right past me as he headed for the door; I was turning and calling to him before I could even think over the words that were coming out of my mouth:

"That's not a good idea." I got flashes, in the back of my head, nothing like a proper vision, nothing I could get lost in, but it was enough.

"Rosalie, I have to go." He retorted, not quite turning to look at me. "He's my son..."

"Oh no, I totally agree with that part." I assured him calmly, then turned more serious before I added. "I'm talking about the 'deal with the devil' you were planning on making."

"Johnathan!" Martha exclaimed, instantly worried.

"You have no idea what you're talking about..." Mr. Kent hissed.

"No, I don't." I admitted with a shrug. "But Martha obviously does and, also quite obviously, does not like the idea. And I've seen just enough to tell that whoever the owner of the thrice-damned disembodied voice is or was, or whatever... he's not out to help you. If you go to him for help... he will take something from you in exchange, something big. How do you think Clark will feel, when he goes back to being himself, and he learns what you sacrificed to get him back?"

"He will know I'm his father, and that it was my responsibility..." Johnathan began.

"A responsibility you do not have to bear alone." I cut him off. "Let me help. I'll go with you. I'll help you bring back Clark, without either of you getting hurt. I promise."

He didn't seem so sure, but probably the desire to do something already ended being enough that he agreed (though not without stating that if we failed, he was going back to talk to Jor-El... whoever he might be.

Things... didn't exactly go to plan (not that there had been much of a plan in the first place, but still). I knew where Clark was (in LuthorCorp, stealing something), I knew where he'd be coming out once he was done (a side alley), and the exact time. So when he came out of a service door, carrying a small rectangular box in his hand, I was ready to receive him. And that's where things pretty much went nuts.

I tried to reason with him, to persuade him with words, even went as far as pointing out that his unborn sibling was very much alive still, and would need a big brother to look after him. While that seemed to be enough to make him falter, it wasn't enough to convince him to go back. So I decided the time for negotiating was past, and threw myself at him.

It was probably a good thing that Papa had tied the protective spells in my bracelet to my life-force, much like he'd tied the wards in the ranch; otherwise the spells would have ran completely dry after the explosion three months prior, and I'd have had no protection from Clark's (or Kal's) superhuman strength and speed. As it was, I did get a few bruises, but no bones were broken, and (to his surprise) nothing he did was enough to knock me out.

The most insane part, however, was when Johnathan apparently decided that what I was doing wasn't enough, and he went straight to confronting his son himself. A stand-off that ended with Mr. Kent putting his life on the line and Clark (red-stone that apparently affected his mind, and all) choosing to punch a beam, instead of his father, breaking the ring into pieces.

At least in the end we got him back!

xXx

In the days following Clark's return I did my best to keep my distance, giving the Kents a chance to reconnect. I knew Clark wasn't sure about staying, but I believed that he just needed time, to find himself properly again. And then I was distracted, just a bit, by Lex's miraculous return from the dead. That one caught even me by surprise. Especially when he appeared at my door, looking a little worse-for-wear, asking for help.

"Lex!" I cried out, hurrying to get him inside. "Are you alright?"

"I think... I think I might need help." He admitted.

Following my instincts I immediately had him in my sitting room, my well-stocked supplies on hand as I began checking him over. He told me about spending three months on a small deserted island in the middle of nowhere, the malaria, the hallucinations, including Louis...

"You know, I've always believed that such hallucinations are just a way of pulling our attention onto something we've been refusing to face." I commented calmly as I treated his wounds.

"Like what, the fact that I'm an evil bastard who will one day murder his own father, and quite probably the rest of the world afterwards?" Lex deadpanned. "I mean, it was bad enough when Cassandra died while taking a look at my future..."

"Cassandra..." I cut him off. "The woman who was said to be psychic?"

"I went to see her, was curious." He explained. "She died while seeing my future..."

"A vision does not kill, not even those where you die." I blurted without thinking about it.

For several seconds neither of us spoke, Lex only arched an elegant eyebrow at me.

"I suspect you'd rather I not ask how exactly you're so sure about that." He drawled.

"I..." I took a deep breath, and took the plunge. "I have a feeling you already know, or at least suspect. But I'm just not ready to say it outright just yet."

"I can understand that." He nodded. "At least you're not lying to me, telling me it's nothing, or trying to make me forget you said those words..."

I just shrugged, I knew who he was talking about, and there was nothing I could say to make things better, so it was better to say nothing at all.

"Anyway, going back to Louis." I said, also going back to treat him. "It doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing. It may be a way to make you see how bad things might get, in time for you to stop them from ever happening."

"What if its my destiny?" He asked in return.

"I've always believed destiny is what we make of it." I deadpanned. "It might not be easy, it might in fact be very hard, and cost us so much, more than we may believe ourselves capable of giving... but I was once told that some things, the best things, are only worth as much as you're willing to pay for them."

"Then this must be worth a lot indeed." Lex breathed out, ever so slowly relaxing into my touch. "I'm not sure I believe it."

"I do." I answered honestly. "I believe you're meant to change the world Lex... and only you can decide if it will be for good or for bad..."

We dropped that particular conversation then. He told me about going to his father in Metropolis, finding out what had become of Helen, the story she was telling. He knew he had to confront her next (though he still had people working on what exactly was happening), but he wanted to be at his best when he did that, which was why he'd decided to go to me first.

"You're one of perhaps four people in this town I know I can trust." He admitted softly.

I knew the other three people in that list had the surname Kent, and the fact that he was placing me in a group with three people who had my utmost respect... I felt honored.

xXx

Days later I was on my way to the Kent farm. It was time for the place to be emptied, and I had promised to help them (since they were going to my place and all). I knew Lex was planning something to try and help, but had no idea what exactly. I had just killed the motor on my scooter when a sudden rush of panic hit me: Clark's panic.

I forced myself to focus and work through that (his emotions were so strong it could be hard to ignore them). I made my way to the barn very carefully then, making sure not to make a sound (I was good at that). Eventually I got close enough to hear what was going on:

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

It was a voice I did not recognize, but I did not have to wonder for long, as suddenly a vision pulled at my senses and I saw exactly what has happening, and just enough to understand what had brought everyone to that point. I returned to reality in time to hear the tail-end of the tense argument between Morgan Edge and Clark:

"I don't have what you're looking for." Clark told Morgan Edge.

"Do you want me to explain that to Lionel Luthor?" Edge demanded in a threatening tone.

"It was empty!" Clark cried out to him. "I don't know what story Lionel has spun for you. But the only thing inside that safe was a metal box, and it was empty."

"That's impossible." Edge hissed, so much tension in his voice I could hear it, and not only sense it. "You're lying to me! I'll make you regret it!"

"No...!" Clark began.

I decided to throw caution to the wind before something happened to the Kents... or Clark did something stupid. There had been a time when I'd lived for protecting others, perhaps it was time I did that again; the Kents certainly were worth it...

"Martha? Johnathan? Clark?" I called loudly, playing the part of the careless visitor. "Where are you? I thought we were finishing the move today...?"

I broke off as I finally stepped inside the barn. Opening my eyes wide and faking shock as I took in the scene around me. Martha and Johnathan were on opposite sides, tied down, and with thugs holding guns to them; Clark and Edge were standing in the middle, in a stand-off worth of some of those cowboy movies I'd watched some times while in New Mexico.

"What's going on here?" I asked, bracing myself for what was coming.

In an instant two more thugs came at me from behind, one taking hold of my arms, while the other pointed a gun at my back.

"Rosalie!" All three Kents cried out at the same time.

"Now, who are you?" Edge asked, turning all his focus to me.

"That's none of your business." I answered bluntly. "I am a friend of the Kents. Which I can tell you definitely aren't. So why don't you leave before things get... shall we say, dangerous?"

"Oh things are already dangerous, little girl." Edge replied in a most creepy tone. "Dangerous for you... you could end with a bullet in your heart..."

"You don't know me Mr. Edge... don't call me little girl." I replied. "You don't frighten me."

"Oh, but I will... once you get to know me better..." Edge began.

It was about then that I decided things had gotten creepy enough, testing my footing for a second, I then went into motion. I allowed my knees to fold beneath me, a move sudden enough that the man holding me didn't know how to stop me from going down; I took advantage of his hesitation then to twist my body, throwing him over my head, before delivering a hit to the middle of his chest, robbing him of his breath, and then another to his head, knocking him out completely. Then, while the other thug was still trying to process what had just happened, I spun on one knee, disarmed him, swept him off his feet with one leg and knocked him out as well. I finished by spinning around again at the same time I returned to my feet, raising the gun I'd pilfered to point it at Edge, who was looking at me in honest surprise.

"I really have no interest in knowing you better, Mr. Edge." I told him calmly. "And believe me, you don't want to know me better."

"Really, I think I do." Edge was practically leering at me by that point. "You seem to be a very... interesting young woman." His smile grew wider. "Now, why don't you put that gun down and come with me. I will even make you a deal. You, for the Kents."

"No, don't do it!" Johnathan cried out.

His yell was cut off as the thug closest to him hit him in the face with the butt of his gun, causing Johnathan to groan in pain, and both Martha and Clark to cry out for him. That made up my mind, I widened my stance just slightly, before dropping my gun. Edge smirked, while Martha looked horrified, but I didn't pay her any mind.

"Trust me Clark." I mouthed at him, before turning my focus to Edge. "Tell me something Mr. Edge, have you ever heard of the Rose of Chaos...?"

Edge's eyes widened, a second before flames shot from my hands, straight at the thugs holding Martha and Johnathan, forcing them to drop their guns. One was hit by the fire, not enough to really burn him, but it threw him against the nearby piles of hay, while the other managed to evade it. Turning his gun towards Martha.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you..." I hissed at him, before twisting my hands.

In instants, rings of fire surrounded Martha and Johnathan, I heard Clark cry out but ignored him, my fire would never hurt them, and he'd realize that soon enough. From the corner of my eye I saw the remaining thug discover that, he tried to take advantage of it and made a move to reach Martha, only for the fire to burn him, badly.

Edge watched it all before turning back towards me, fury and shock fighting for dominion in his expression. I just smiled sweetly at him. I focused my power more, allowing the fire to expand until it covered most of the barn, and yet nothing was really burning, not yet. Realizing his family was safe, Clark rushed to release his parents, and then the three of them moved to stand behind me, Clark trying to stand at my side, only to be stopped by Martha.

"Lets make a few things very clear, Mr. Edge." I told him serenely. "I am the Rose of Chaos. The Kent family is under my protection... Smallville as a whole is under my protection. Which means you are not welcome here. If you show your face in my town, if you so much as think about anything that might hurt one of those I call my own, I will make you regret it. And believe me Mr. Edge, I will know if you do."

"There's no way you can be the Rose of Chaos." Edge spat, fear gaining ground in his emotions.

"Isn't there?" My eyes flashed as I stared straight at him, and I mentally called the fire back, until it was only surrounding us. "I assure you Mr. Edge, I am she. Though in the end, it is irrelevant if you believe me or not. I've told you what will happen if you continue on the road you've taken."

"You're letting me go...?" It looked like the mob-boss couldn't believe it.

"I am." I admitted calmly. "Not because I am weak, which I'm sure you're telling yourself right now. But because killing is not in my nature. Doesn't mean I won't do it if it becomes necessary to protect me and mine."

"You, kill?" Edge scoffed.

"Oh Mr. Edge, I may be on the side of the angels, but do not, for one second, take that to mean that I am one myself." I murmured, allowing my voice to take a certain cadence, much like the elves did. "I will rise to the highest reaches of heaven, or dive to the deepest pits of hell, nothing will ever stop me from protecting myself and those I consider mine."

The man was angry, so it did not surprise me when he pulled a small gun from his jacket and shot at me. Clark made to do something but I simply snapped two fingers and one of the flames around us turned brighter for a second, the bullet melting before it could pass the barrier. Then I pulled what looked like a chopstick from my hair (it was actually a stiletto dagger) and threw it straight at Edge, passing right beside his face.

"You missed." He snapped at me.

"Did I?" I arched a brow at him.

As if my words were some kind of cue, a cut opened on his face then, running from high on his cheek to his temple, almost touching the very edge of his right eye.

"Consider that your second warning." I told him in a no-nonsense tone. "There won't be a third. Next time to try anything, I will end you."

He either believed me, or at least decided to leave our fight for another day, for he left.

None of us moved for almost a full minute, and then...

"Rosalie...?" It was Martha, and as I looked over my shoulder I could see her finger tracing the flames closest to her.

"It's okay, my flames will never burn you." I assured them. "They will not burn anyone unless I will them to, in fact."

"How do you do it?" Clark asked, awed as he moved his own hand through the wall of fire.

"It's my gift." I answered with a smile. "Or at least, one of them."

"Are you really the Rose of Chaos?" He wanted to know.

"Who or what is the Rose of Chaos?" Johnathan asked immediately.

I managed to convince them all to go back inside the house, where we sat to talk.

"First of all, what do you know Clark?" I asked, wanting to know what he knew already.

"Well, you know about Chloe's wall of weird, right?" He asked, then, at my nod, went on. "She said that while researching all that, she'd realized that odd things happen in other places, not just in Smallville; though she hasn't been able to track down a central point for those, not like she has connected all the freaks in Smallville to the meteor shower. She's found things about people all over the countries, and even overseas. There were in particular rumors about great events that had supposedly been caused by people with powers, in Egypt, Australia, Peru, Ukraine, Germany, Vietnam..." He took a deep breath. "Across it all she kept finding mention of a Rose of Chaos. A being of great power who was said to be the strongest gifted ever... she's said to have been in a variety of places through the years, as far back as 1973. Still, her existence seems to be more legend than reality as far as most of the world is concerned..."

"I wouldn't say I'm the strongest gifted ever..." I murmured thoughtfully. "Magneto, the Professor and Phoenix are all incredibly powerful... our powers are also remarkably different. I haven't found another with the same power over fire as I do, though I know of others with the Sight, and at least one who seems to be better at calling on it at will, rather than having to wait for something to be revealed to her, like I do."

"So, you're saying..." Martha didn't seem to know quite what to say.

"I am the Rose of Chaos, I wasn't lying to Edge about that." I thought that over. "I didn't lie to him about anything, not really."

"Does that mean... you'd really...?" Clark didn't dare finish the question, but I didn't need him to.

"Would I really kill him?" I finished for him, not hesitating in the slightest as I answered. "Yes, yes I would. I know that may be too much for you, but I will not lie to you Clark. There are some people in this world that are truly evil, who will not change, no matter how many chances they're given; people only death can stop for good. So if Edge ever comes back, if he threatens you, or anyone else here in Smallville, I will kill him." I saw the fight in Johnathan's eyes, and could guess what he must be thinking. "Yes Johnathan, I've killed before. It's not something I choose to do lightly, but when it comes to the welfare of those I love I know I cannot hesitate. Not when my hesitation could cost them their lives." I let out a breath. "I know that may not be what you wanted to hear. But I cannot pretend to be someone I'm not. I've put my life on the line before for those I consider mine, and I will continue doing so, until I no longer can. That's just the way I've chosen to live my life."

"Fighting?" Martha inquired, sounding like she felt sad for me.

"Protecting." I corrected her kindly. "It may not be an easy life, and it certainly isn't without its difficulties, its grief, but I believe it to be worth it."

"How old are you?" Johnathan's next question took me completely by surprise.

"Johnathan!" Martha called, sounding fake-scandalized as he slapped her husband in the arm.

"What?" He asked, turning to look at her, then at his son.

"Ah, ah, don't look at me dad." Clark shook his head, even as he chuckled. "Even I know better than to ask a girl her age."

"It's alright." I nodded with a slight grin. "I can tell you what you must already suspect. I'm much older than I appear. Also, Rosalie Nova isn't the name I was born with. It's just one I chose a few years ago, and I hope to keep it for a while yet."

"One of the articles Chloe found suggested your name might be Alfdis Eisenhardt, and had you related to one of the leaders of some odd group, the X-Men, or something like that, I think." Clark commented, thoughtfully. "Though she couldn't find much about them. Apparently they were allied with the government at some point, but no longer."

"That is correct." I nodded. "I'm afraid there's not much I can tell you, as the secrets aren't really mine to share. What I can tell you is that the X-Men are a group of gifted, the exist still, and they were, indeed, allied with the government in the seventies and eighties... Something happened in the nineties, I don't know what exactly, as I had left by that point, for personal reasons. All I know for sure is that it caused a rift, one that hasn't been healed, that might never be healed..." I shook my head, pushing aside those memories. "As for the name. Alfdis Eisenhardt is another name I used for a while, closer to my real one, in some ways, but still not the one my parents gave me upon my birth."

"Can you teach me how to fight?" Clark asked suddenly.

"What...?!" No one was expecting that one.

"It's just..." Clark ran a hand through his hair, nervously. "You were so amazing and... and if Edge does come back, or anyone else, I want to be able to better protect my family and my friends too. So, will you teach me?"

"It will be my pleasure Clark." I assured him. "Though, I hope you'll understand that, to be able to do that right, I will first need to know what exactly you can do, your limits... I've respected your wish for secrecy thus far; but if I'm going to teach you to be a Warrior, there needs to be trust between us. Can you accept that?"

"I can." He agreed. "So, like we mentioned earlier. It all begins with the meteors..."

I then got to hear the most extraordinary story I could have ever imagined. It wasn't the whole 'intergalactic traveler' thing. I'd long since grown used to the fact that my parents both technically hailed from different realms (even if mama had been technically reborn as a human in our own world), and the gifted part was certainly normal to me. No, it was everything else. From my point of view, it was one thing for a human to grow beside a gifted and grow to accept them as normal in their own way, to love them, much like my sister had. But to spend decades living normal lives, and then in the wake of the greatest tragedy learn that another world existed, and find a child, so young, so innocent, and in some ways so dangerous, and be willing to anything and everything to protect him, to love him as a son... Martha and Johnathan Kent were even more incredible than I could have ever imagined.

And then, after long, heart-felt tales, our day ended in an even more amazing note, with Lex's arrival, carrying the deed to the farm, in Johnathan and Martha's names...

xXx

Sarah Rose Kent was born near the end of September, the day after the beginning of Autumn, in fact. She was almost a whole month early, which made everyone more than a little nervous, but aside from spending a day in an incubator (mostly so everyone would be sure there was nothing to worry about), the baby was just fine. Lex and I were chosen as godparents, which floored us both, but Lex especially, as he never expected the Kents, but most importantly Johnathan, to trust him enough to agree to such a thing.

He still didn't know Clark's secret, but he'd stopped asking, choosing to give them time. Clark, on the other hand, had stopped lying to him about being different, instead telling his friend that yes, he had secrets, but he wasn't ready to reveal them just yet. Lex had accepted that, happy just not to be lied to anymore.

Then, six weeks later, things pretty much went to hell in a hand-basket. It began when Lex chose to drop by my place in the middle of the night, handing me a CD, asking me to keep it safe and under no circumstance let anyone know I had it (not like I knew what exactly I had... but anyway). I promised to keep it safe for him.

And then, two nights later, Clark practically materialized in my backyard, with Lex cradled in his arms, sounding more than a little loopy. For a moment I didn't move a muscle, too shocked, the memory of Wendy on the day I'd met her, heavily drugged by her own mother, who was too afraid to be close to her whenever she was in control of her faculties, taking me over for a few seconds, until Clark snapped me out of it.

"Rosalie!" He called sharply to me. "I need help. Lex needs help."

That got me moving immediately.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, though a part of me was already connecting the dots.

"There's a possibility Lex might have been drugged." He explained to me. "People are after him, it's like some sort of conspiracy. I couldn't bring him to the farm, not with Lionel having gone there already, and Sarah and... and I knew we could trust you."

"Of course you can." I didn't hesitate for a second. "What kind of conspiracy? What exactly has he gotten into now? And you?"

"I don't know everything." He admitted, before going into what he did know.

So apparently someone had tried to kill Lex the night before. He'd gone to the Kents', to hide. Clark had found him and helped him hide from his parents for most of the day; he'd gone to the mansion at some point and found everything had been cleaned up, or almost everything; there were traces that what Lex claimed had really happened, and someone was trying to cover it up. But not enough to take to the police. Also, Lex had apparently seen his head of security: Darius, killed by the assassin, yet the man was alive. Lionel had gone to the farm looking for Lex. The Kents were too worried about themselves, and especially about Sarah to help keep Lex hidden until they knew exactly what was going on; and Lionel was using the fact that there were records stating that Lex had had a psychotic break when he was younger, shortly after the death of his little brother: Julian. There was also something about Edge, and how he'd known Lionel when young and had the two had worked together to murder Lionel's parents and get the insurance money, which was how both men had started their respective fortunes and 'businesses'. Edge had supposedly confessed, and Lex was going to use that to go after his father, until it all went wrong. Some woman, a Dr. Foster, Lex's psychiatrist, had wanted to take him to a hospital, but Lex was convinced if he went he'd either end up dead or drooling in a straight-jacket. Finally, Lex was indeed having delusions of some kind, mostly connected to his dead brother; he could go from paranoid to hallucinating, to perfectly coherent at the drop of a hat. It was insane.

"I know this is dangerous." Clark admitted. "And you never asked for this... but I just don't know what to do, who to call..."

"You did the right thing, coming to me Clark." I assured him. "I will always help you, and Lex. And like you must already know, I'm not afraid of getting into a few people's crosshairs in the process." I thought things over for a bit before coming to a sudden realization. "So that's what he gave me the other night!"

"What?!" Clark wasn't expecting that.

"Two nights ago, Lex brought me a CD." I explained. "Asked me to keep it safe for him, not to let anyone know I had it... well, I suppose I shouldn't have told you either, but I think that, right now that's the least of our troubles."

With that in mind I pulled the CD from where I'd hidden it, right in the middle of the rack of other similar discs I kept piled in a corner of the living room. Really, it was the least conspicuous place, especially if one considered that I'd gotten it out of its original case and into one where a Celine Dion CD should have been...

I popped the disc into a computer, and what we found... well it was pretty much what I was expecting. Clark, on the other hand, was absolutely flabbergasted.

"What do we do now?" He asked quietly.

"First, we copy this." I announced, as I began doing exactly that. "Just in case. Then... we need to find someone we can get this to. Someone willing to go against both Lionel Luthor and possibly even Morgan Edge, and whoever else that might be in on this." I began making a mental list. "Lex will be staying here. I'm calling in sick to the school so I can keep an eye on him, make sure he'll be safe. And there's something I might be able to give him, to help his body get rid of whatever drugs he was given, faster."

Once again I remembered Wendy. I'd been there when Hank had given her a special mix to help her, and could still remember what it was. So I made a list and gave it to Clark.

"I need you to run, go as far away as you can get in less than an hour, and get that." I told him. "Whatever you do, try not to be seen. If we manage to get Lex back to himself before Lionel and Edge realize where he is, we'll have an advantage."

"Be back soon." Clark nodded, and then he was gone.

That still left me needing to find a lawyer... I had no idea how I was going to manage that. One thing I knew for sure, though, Lionel and Edge would only get to Lex over my dead body. Lex was my friend, and I never gave up on my friends.

xXx

It only took 36 hours for people to begin coming to my door looking for Lex. Though considering the list of real friends Lex had, I probably should believe them a tad stupid for taking so long. It started with some of Lionel's security, then Dr. Foster and a number of orderlies, and quickly escalated, to the point that I was forced to fight two waves of mercenaries before the day was out. And then ended with the Sheriff and a couple of policemen in my house for good measure.

"You did this?" Sheriff Adams asked, not for the first time.

"Yes, I did." I took a look around and had to stop to consider how it looked to a human woman...

There was almost a dozen guys in all, in heaps around my ground floor, knocked out, some tied, and a few with clear knife wounds aside from the bruises.

"I may be a nurse, Sheriff Adams, but I'm not defenseless." I told her quite clearly. "I wouldn't have survived this long living on my own if I were."

"Or against all the... different people that seem to pop around here." The woman retorted.

I realized then, that she wasn't stupid either, she knew odd things happened in Smallville, but either she wasn't ready to deal with it outright, or she would rather pretend everything was normal, at least for a little longer.

"That too." I agreed easily enough. "In any case, I tried to explain to these men, just like I did with all that came before them, that Lex was under my care, and he wasn't leaving it. They tried to force the point, and I showed them I was quite serious myself."

It was a hell of an understatement. There had been hits, and blades, and bullets involved, but I'd managed to keep myself strictly to martial arts (and the endurance the power in my bracelet granted me... and what my Sight warned me of), no fire involved at all. So, as far as Sheriff Adams, and all the men around us, were concerned, I'd taken them down fair and square.

"You do realize that if Mr. Luthor is correct and his son has had a psychotic breakdown he's considered to be mentally incapacitated and the responsibility of others, his father, in this case?" Sheriff Adams said, as polite as she could.

"Ah, ah." I shook my head for extra emphasis. "I mean, I know that's how it'd normally work, but not this time." I pulled a paper I kept in the inside pocket of my jacket and handed it over. "What you see there is a 'power of attorney', basically. It was arranged for and signed before all this happened, witnessed by Johnathan and Martha Kent, Gabe Sullivan and Maya Andrews."

"Why would you have such a document?" Adams looked honestly shocked.

"Sheriff..." I drawled. "I'm sure you're not unaware that not few people would love nothing more than to get Lex Luthor out of the way. Ever since the plane-crash, Lex has suspected that whoever was behind it, might make another attempt at his life. This document was created and signed upon his return from the island, never to be used, never to be revealed unless something truly happened to him. We didn't exactly plan for this... but that doesn't mean I will not try to do anything to be deserving of the trust he's put on me."

"One might wonder why the young Mr. Luthor has put such trust in you..." The woman asked, though it wasn't really a question, or not one she expected an answer for at least, so I said nothing "I would like to see Lex Luthor..."

"I am right here, sheriff." He spoke up right then. "You know, for a woman of your profession, you're quite unaware of your own surroundings."

I, of course, had known Lex was there. Had sensed it the moment he left the bedroom. He'd heard the explanation I'd given to Sheriff Adams, and it was mostly the truth, except for the part where that power had been created to protect Lex from Lionel specifically.

The Sheriff stayed only long enough to confirm that Lex was as well as could be expected, recovering from being drugged (I'd included a 'cleaned-up' version of the exams I'd run on him when Clark had first gotten him to me). He was also working on something he couldn't give the details of, but would eventually explain why so many people were after him. The Sheriff had promised to leave a patrol car outside, and post guards at my door, not like I thought it would make that much of a difference, but still.

Clark arrived right as Sheriff Adams was leaving. He was delighted when seeing Lex much more focused than he'd been during the previous 48 hours, and showed it by hurrying to embrace his friend tightly, expressing his happiness to see him.

Minutes later we were sitting around the island in the kitchen, having some tea. It was then that Clark noticed Lex wasn't as well as he initially seemed.

"I thought those drugs I brought you would be enough." Clark said, worried.

"Normally they'd have been but..." I broke off, not willing to give up a secret not my own.

"It's not that easy Clark." Lex spoke up, clearly forcing himself to focus, like he had with the Sheriff. "Because my body is fighting this drug as much as it did the ones my father gave me and... well, bluntly speaking, if I were anyone else I'd be dead!"

"What?!" Clark clearly wasn't expecting that.

"The amount of drug they gave him... it was at least three times more than what most people would be able to process." I explained, very quietly. "Anyone else would have died of overdose."

"I thought you would have realized it already, Clark." Lex admitted. "No human can possibly survive everything I have, not even with your help... I'm a freak, like the others you usually fight. You should have known already, I was on Chloe's list."

"You're not a freak!" Clark defended automatically.

"No, he's not." I agreed, before turning my stare to Lex. "You know how much I hate that term Lex. You're a gifted, and you're not alone."

To emphasize that point, I snapped my fingers, lighting up a number of candles around us.

"No, you're not." Clark agreed.

And then, to my absolute surprise, he was suddenly standing on Lex's opposite side, raising him up, chair and all, then putting him down. Lex didn't say a word, but his smile was blinding.

xXx

I woke up in the middle of the night with the abrupt notion that something wasn't right. At first I wasn't sure where I got that idea from, the house was perfectly quiet, and I could sense the guards on the street, they were completely relaxed... and then I sensed the other presence inside the house. One that didn't belong to Lex. I was out of bed and rushing barefoot across the hard-wood floor in seconds, made it to the bedroom's door just before a figure all in black could reach it.

"Stop right there." I hissed, trying to keep quiet, so as not to wake up Lex. "Don't you dare give a single step more. I do not know how the hell you got inside my house without being seen, but this is as far as you're getting."

"You have no idea the monsters you're up against, lady." A deep, dark voice warned me. "Do not get in my way. This will be your only warning..."

"Yeah well, that one was yours." I replied flippantly before rushing him.

I didn't even bother with stances or rehearsed motions, I went straight at him. Waited until the last possible second, as the man made a move to either punch me or at least push me aside, to take hold of his arm and use his own strength against him, pushing him back.

The fight wasn't easy, he was obviously much better prepared than any of those I'd faced before. Even harder than fighting four mercenaries at the same time. And the armor he was wearing really wasn't helping. At one point he even managed to throw me all the way down the stairs and to the ground floor, and I decided to drop all pretenses and used my elven agility and grace to climb back up using only the walls and railings. Then I dropped to the floor and slid down the small hallway, just at the right angle to drop him inches away from the door. I twisted one way to avoid having his body fall on me, then the other to pin him down, it wasn't easy, and I was sure I wouldn't manage it for long unless I resorted to fire (he was much, much stronger than me, and I probably only managed as much as I did because I'd taken him completely by surprise).

I was right, of course, less than two seconds later I found myself with my back against the floor, an arm against my throat, half my concentration on breathing, and the other half on holding down my fire... least I accidentally end up burning something or someone (my opponent really had no idea of what could happen when my most basic instincts kicked in... and thus far I only knew one person who could deal with me at that point: Phoenix).

"Leave her alone!" Lex was suddenly at the door, yelling at the man in armor, I could barely hear him and wanting nothing more than to scream at him to run, to flee before I lost control. "Bruce! Leave her alone!"

xXx

It was a surreal experience, to find myself a quarter of an hour later, sitting in my own kitchen, with a cup of tea in front of me, Lex fussing, and Batman of all people standing against the wall.

"You could sit down, you know?" Lex shot at him over his shoulder at some point. "She's not going to bite you."

"Oh... I don't know about that..." I drawled, only to end the sentence with a cough.

"This is bad..." Lex murmured worriedly, running a cool towel around the markings on my neck.

"It's fine." I assured him after taking a sip of my drink to sooth my throat. "It'll stop hurting in an hour or so, and the bruising will be gone by the end of the day."

"I never meant for you to end up hurt." He admitted softly.

"It's not the first time I've been hurt, nor will it be the last." I pointed out calmly. "I've been through worse, a lot worse, really." Which was quite true, considering I'd almost died, and more than once too. "I was more worried something might happen to you."

Lex shook his head but didn't say anything.

"Will you sit down, or will I have to make you?" I asked of the Dark Night, testily.

"Can you?" Batman challenged.

"Oh, you have no idea what I'm capable of, Batman." I smirked at him.

"I know I took you down, would have knocked you out if he hadn't intervened." He responded.

"Oh, but knocking me out wouldn't have given you victory." I told him matter-of-factly. "It would have just made things harder for all of us." I shrugged carelessly. "Also, I wasn't taking the fight as seriously as I probably should have."

Batman scoffed at that, and my smiled widened provocatively.

"Really?" He asked, disbelieving.

"Really." I answered, dead-honest. "I wasn't making use of all my tricks, not wanting to wake up Lex, or alert our friends outside if it wasn't necessary..."

"Some cops they are." Lex snorted.

"Indeed, but then again, you have to admit they are pretty much out of their depth." I reminded him. "There's not much they could have done, even if they'd noticed what was going on."

"I still don't like it." Lex insisted. "Rosalie..."

"It's alright Lex, I promise I'm fine." I insisted. "Besides, even if you hadn't been able to stop him, I still have a few tricks under my sleeve."

"Really?" Batman insisted. "Like what?"

"Papa's first rule." I answered, perfectly serious. "When outmatched, cheat."

Batman actually blinked. It seemed I'd managed to take him by surprise.

"Considering that some people call you the world's best detective I will make a wild guess and say you've investigated me." I stated calmly as I drank more tea. "Probably even realized that some of the stuff in my records doesn't fully fit. It must not surprise you when I tell you that I could have done more than I did when we fought."

"Why didn't you?" He asked, sounding honestly intrigued.

"Like I said before, I didn't want to wake up Lex." I answered honestly. "He's still recovering from what Lionel did to him. Regretfully, only time will finish undoing that, I've done all I could, but it wasn't enough. Which is why I won't let anyone take him, I will make sure he gets back to full health. No matter who I have to fight to achieve that. Also, once he was awake, it was obvious he did not consider you a real threat."

"What makes you believe that?" He still didn't understand.

"I didn't attack you." Lex explained, pulling a slim blade from his sleeve.

It was part of a set of thin daggers, vibranium daggers, Uncle Howard had gifted me at some point. Even with his armor I was quite sure the dagger would have hurt him.

"Who are you?" Batman demanded. "Rosalie Nova doesn't exist. Not really."

"She does exist, I am she." I responded calmly. "Rosalie might not be my original name, but it's one I've chosen to go by, which makes it real enough. I am Lex's friend, which is all you really need to know."

"And why are you so sure about that?" There was an edge in the Dark Knight's voice.

"Because so are you." I finished for him. "Aren't you, Bruce?"

If looks could kill, I'd have been dead. I didn't say a word more, just kept drinking my tea.

"How did you know?" Lex asked, interested.

"Well, in all fairness, I heard you say his name." I pointed out. "And the rest just came to me after that. Benefits of having the Sight, even if it comes and goes as it pleases."

He chuckled, and I couldn't help but laugh with him.

"Really Batman." I said, forcing myself to get serious as I turned to the Dark Knight. "I am not going to tell anyone. It's not my secret to tell. Now, regarding what brought you here... if I truly believed that taking Lex to Gotham and hiding him in your cave for the foreseeable future would help him any I would have just let him go with you. But it won't help, not you, and not him."

"What would help then?" Batman asked, and for the first time since we'd gotten to the kitchen he truly sounded like he wanted to help.

"A lawyer." I answered honestly. "One willing to go against Lionel Luthor, and probably Morgan Edge too. One who won't flee the first time something odd happens around them, because believe me, there are always odd things happening in Smallville. One who's willing to believe Lex, regardless of what Lionel might unearth from his past, or the lies other people might tell."

"I think I might be able to help with that." That really caught me by surprise.

And that was, pretty much, how we ended with Rachel Dawes as our lawyer.

xXx

The following six months were absolute insanity, beyond what I'd known in the two and a half years since first moving to Smallville. Between the usual metahumans, the craziness Smallville seemed to bring out even in those who hadn't been changed by the meteors, Lionel (who was in prison already) and Edge (who was not); and, of course, the addition of Bruce Wayne and Rachel Dawes into our lives. It was insane even before taking into consideration that Bruce Wayne was, in fact, the Dark Knight of Gotham: Batman; though only Lex and I knew that part (and Rachel); the rest only knew that Bruce and Lex were old friends who had known each other in Excélsior (there was a three year difference, but since Lex was a genius...). Bruce Wayne was well known for being a playboy, a player... only a very select few knew that that was nothing but a facade, to hide his life as Batman.

There had been some difficulties when, just days after Rachel had first arrived to Smallville, there were two attempts on Chloe's life; perpetrated by none others than Clark and Lana... Rachel had almost been run over herself at some point. Bruce almost blew a gasket, and Lex and I were forced to sit him down and explain the kind of things that went on in Smallville.

"It wasn't a joke when I said we needed a lawyer who wouldn't flee at all the odd things that tend to happen here in Smallville." I reminded him.

"Why here?" Bruce wanted to know.

"It's the meteor rocks." Lex explained the half-truths we were willing to reveal. "They're muta-genes of some kind, even if no one in any sphere of the government is willing to accept it just yet. They've affected anyone who was around them when they fell, and the same could be said for some of the flora and fauna around here."

"And this isn't something I'd want to get the government involved in." I added. "I don't think they'd treat the metas right, you've seen how some people react to them. And even with the things that have happened, most of them are nothing more than scared teenagers trying to survive, trying to deal with the cards they've been dealt."

"Do you really think they can be helped?" Bruce didn't sound convinced. "They might be too far gone already..."

"No one in this world is too far gone, not as long as at least one person still believes in them." I told him quietly. "And, granted, I may not be able to help them all, not even most of them. But I'm still going to try my hardest."

"And when they try to kill you?" Wayne challenged. "When they spit in your kindness and try to put a knife in your back?"

"I'll put one in their hearts." I deadpanned, pulling one of my daggers from a boot, to illustrate a point. "I may be an optimist, Mr. Wayne, but I'm not stupid."

"Can you do it?" He asked, somewhat curious. "Can you kill?"

"If it's to protect me and mine? Yes I can." I answered, and to drive the point home, I added: "I have done it before. It's not something I'm proud of, not something I consider an achievement, a highlight in my life... but it's the truth."

Bruce just nodded, not saying another word. I could see his image of me changing ever so slowly. He'd known from the start there was more to me than: Rosalie Nova, nurse from New Mexico... but he obviously hadn't expected so much.

Also, Wayne wasn't the only one to realize there was something not-right about Rosalie Nova's records, so did Lionel's lawyers. And they used it against me. The worst part was that I really couldn't use my original records (how exactly was I supposed to explain being born in 1949 and still looking like I was in my twenties?), and the ones as Alfdis Eisenhardt, which were a bit better, would have called everyone's attention to the X-Men, and I wasn't going to do that to them; not when they seemed to be having enough troubles already.

What I could have never expected was the person who ended getting me out of that particular conundrum in the end:

"Rosalie Beatrice Kane?" I asked in disbelief.

"It's a good name." Lex nodded in agreement.

"A good...?" I trailed off. "Have you all gone completely insane?!"

"It was the perfect solution." Bruce explained. "Everyone knows you come from money, and after Lionel's lawyers revealed that you changed your name in 97 when you went to Nursing school... it was also quiet convenient that everyone knew Uncle Nathan was a bit of a playboy. There actually was a baby at some point, but he died when he was very young, sickness, it was before I was born. Still, the precedent was there. And so Rosalie Beatrice Kane, daughter of Nathan Kane, and his ex-girlfriend Roxanne Nova comes to be... An illegitimate daughter, raised away from Gotham for her own safety, until she was ready to claim her inheritance."

"I don't know what's more insane, that you came up with all that, or that people are actually buying the story." I snorted.

It really was insane, beyond that even, but it was the best we could do in that moment. And it's not like I hated it, not really, there was nothing wrong with being believed to be Bruce Wayne's cousin... it threw me into the spotlight a bit more than I would have wanted... but I could handle it, had done it before.

I also knew that Bruce was using me as a safeguard. In case anything ever happened to him, I had become his heiress, and I'd be expected to make sure his legacy survived him, that all the work he was doing to help Gotham wouldn't be for naught, even if the worst came to pass... I really, truly hoped it wouldn't come to pass, swore to myself I'd do everything in my power to prevent it. After all, if Bruce was my cousin, he was one of mine, and I'd protect him as such.

There was no way to hide from Bruce and Rachel that Clark wasn't exactly normal, especially not when he ended saving both their lives at some point. It ended being a good thing, for the most part, Bruce had gone as far as offering to help train Clark (I was doing my best, but truth was we had different body types, and different training, Bruce could teach Clark things I couldn't); he also eventually told Clark about Batman... I wondered if Clark would go down that route, once he was done with school, and with life in Kansas, was he destined for the life of a superhero? A part of me thought it was only right, with his gifts... another couldn't help but fear what such a life might do to him, to his innocence, his joy... Hopefully he wouldn't be alone, sometimes the company of the right people could make all the difference.

Rachel Dawes was another matter entirely. We could all see she didn't approve of Clark, of the way he chose to fight to protect the town, or of his fast friendship with Bruce... with Batman. She obviously did not approve of Batman either. I couldn't say I was exactly a fan of him, he was a bit too dark, too vicious... but I understood that Gotham was a different place than Smallville (or New York), and Batman would know better than any outsider what his city needed.

I could also see the way Bruce kept fighting so hard to hold onto some connection there seemed to have existed at some point between him and Rachel. It was a lost battle, but he refused to give in. I could only imagine how that would end... it wouldn't be pretty.

Things had also finally gone south for what seemed to be the last time between Clark and Lana. After months fighting to find their footing back together, Lana's refusal to accept Clark's choice to stand by Lex, despite everything Lionel and his lawyers kept bringing out (including a lot of stuff from his wild youth, that had caused more than a few raised eyebrows and disapproving comments from the 'respectable citizens' of Smallville), had finally put an end to Clark's attempt to have her love him (he'd even considered the possibility of telling her the truth... or at least as much as he'd revealed to Lex, but in the end he didn't).

She'd decided to leave Smallville, so much she wanted nothing tying her back, that she offered to sell me her part of the Talon, to which I agreed, promising to keep the place as it was (people liked it, so why not?). Lex had helped her a bit and she was going to an Art School in Paris. As she left us that day (we'd all been at the Talon), I suddenly knew we'd never be seeing Lana again.

Then there was Pete. His own hate for the Luthors made him clash with Clark when it came to his friendship with Lex; which, added to his parents' divorce and having been kidnapped and almost tortured by a rogue federal agent (something I hadn't seen coming, and even Clark had barely managed to intervene in time) had made him decide to leave Smallville with his mom after the end of the school-year. It was unlikely if he'd ever return.

xXx

In May the (very long) trial of Lionel Luthor finally came to an end, Lionel was sentenced to life without parole. Edge would have been subjected to the same, if he hadn't been killed in a shoot-out in Suicide Slums less than a month before. Darius, Lex's former bodyguard, as well as several other members of the staff got lesser sentences for complicit actions.

Lex insisted we all celebrate together once the trial was over. We'd won. Finally. We'd defeated the worst enemy any of us could imagine in that moment. We all gathered in the Luthor Castle. The next morning Lex would officially be taking over LuthorCorp, he planned on adding it to LexCorp, Bruce had promised to help him where necessary. Bruce and Rachel would also be returning to Gotham in the morning. The Kents were just happy that things would be easier without the threat of Lionel Luthor around (also, if the man was to be believed, he'd be dead before too long, due to a degenerative disease in his liver).

So there was food, and drink, and we even got dancing. It was all going so well... until Lex made to kiss me...

"No..." I whispered, very quietly, before his lips could touch mine.

"I suppose it's asking for too much, aspiring too high, to believe that you might want me." Lex murmured dejectedly as he pulled back.

"No Lex, it's not..." I began.

"I'd never force myself on you, you must know that." He hurried to reassure me. "I just thought... well it doesn't matter what I thought."

"Lex, listen to me. It's not you..." I began, but he simply wouldn't give me the chance to talk.

"If this is your attempt at the whole 'it's not you, it's me' speech, there's no need." He said evenly. "I can accept a no for an answer, and I'd rather you not lie to me... not now..."

"If you would shut up for a second and let me get a word in!" I interrupted him, probably more harshly than entirely necessary.

"Alright..." He murmured, somewhat sheepishly.

"It's not you..." I began, waving my hand almost violently when he made to interrupt. "And it's not me either." I made a pause, deciding how to explain it. "Do you believe in soulmates Lex?"

"What does that have to do with..." He broke off, probably when seeing something in my eyes, and answered. "I don't know that I do. Never thought about it before now. I suppose it's a nice dream... an impossible dream..."

"It's not a dream." I told him softly. "Not impossible either. I know because I found mine. I found him... and I lost him..."

"What?!" He obviously wasn't expecting that.

"His name was Peter Maximoff." I told him softly, it was the first time I spoke of it all out loud, and while it hurt, it also helped. "You know already I'm older than I appear, that I don't age like normal people do... Well, I met him when I was 24, for real. He was nineteen, a gifted as well. Speed was his specialty, so fast he seemed to teleport. The son of a good friend, and younger brother to Willow, who'd been my sister since I was five. He never saw me as a sister, nor did I ever see him as a brother; though it wasn't until months later that I realized why that was. I loved him, I think I might have fallen in love with him before I ever met him, when I'd only seen him in my dreams, my visions..."

"What happened?" Lex asked, when several seconds passed and I didn't say a word.

"He didn't love me." I said with a shrug, trying to make it seem like it hurt less than it actually did, than it had for so long. "Or I don't think he did... I don't know anymore. Years passed. We were friends, ended going on a few dates, a few kisses, never anything serious. And then Will died. It hit us both hard. She was... she was my sister... as good as my twin, and while he hadn't known her as long, he loved her dearly. On the first anniversary of her death we got a bit drunk... or a lot drunk, I'm not quite sure which. We slept together. I told him I loved him... The next day he claimed it had been a mistake."

I could see he probably wanted to curse Peter to kingdom come, but he was controlling himself, for me; he knew it was important that I finish the story.

"A few more things happened, not too important, but eventually he left." I decided not to go into the whole thing with Stryker, the Institute, me being shot. That would have been too long, require me telling secrets not my own, and it wasn't truly relevant to the point I was trying to make. "He traveled around the world, helping gifted where he could, with his twin: Wendy. Then on 92 I had a vision... not of the future, but of the present. I saw him and Wendy in a cave in Los Andes, they were rescuing a group of gifted who'd been sold into slavery. They gave their all to save them, fifteen, all of them children and teenagers; all who are now alive and free because of them..."

I broke off, I couldn't speak, it was almost too much.

"Rosalie..." Lex whispered, holding me tightly against his chest.

I didn't even realize when I ended on my knees, but we were both on the ground then, and he was holding me tight, as if trying to keep me together.

"What happened?" He asked, so very softly, as if afraid the mere recount of the tragedy would break me once and for all.

"He died, they both did." I breathed out, before sobbing. "Destiny thinks I was never supposed to see that. Because I couldn't have changed it... but he called to me, at the end. He called my name, apologized, told me he loved me... and then he died. He said the words I'd been waiting almost twenty years to hear and then died!" I wailed the last part out. "What am I suppose to think? He told me it was a mistake, that we were a mistake, he left me! Left me all alone, for years, and then he made me watch him die, made it so his last words to me were a love confession. But how can I believe him, when he never showed that love to me while we had the chance?!"

I cried then, cried hard, and for a very long time. Finally, after more than a decade since Peter's passing, I was mourning him properly. I was letting out not only the grief, but also the anger, the righteous fury I felt at his leaving me, at his last goodbye. Perhaps I would get to move on too...

xXx

I didn't notice when Lex carried me to my bedroom (I had a bedroom in the castle, as did all the Kents, and Bruce), nor when I fell asleep. When I woke up I was under the covers, though still in my clothes, with no shoes. The sky outside was dark, but not so much that I expected everyone to be asleep. In fact, I could immediately sense that wasn't the case. I took a deep breath, trying to remember how I'd ended in the bedroom exactly, when a vision hit me. It came so fast I couldn't pick up individual images, but the knowledge still managed to register inside my head somehow.

"Clark!" I yelled, willing him to hear me. "Chloe and her father need you! Please! You need to hurry! The safe-house is going to blow!"

Even as I yelled that I was already running down halls and stairs; I reached the play-room in time to watch Bruce, Rachel and Lex toasting, raising flutes of what looked like expensive champagne to their lips. There was no time to speak, to explain, not even to shout a warning, all I could do was call on the power deep inside and pray to the Norns that I had been fast enough.

Rachel cried out in fright and dropped her glass, which was filled with fire. Lex put his own down instantly, careful not to break it, but wary of the fire nonetheless. Bruce, on the other hand, pulled it away from his lips, yet didn't put it down, instead staring at the flames that were fast consuming the liquid inside.

"Rosalie!" Lex exclaimed, turning towards the door.

I vaguely saw the fourth glass full of champagne, sitting on the table in between all three of them. My glass. It told me all I needed to know. Though I knew none of them had realized it yet.

"Why did you do that?" Bruce asked, more curious than angered.

Before I got the chance to answer there was a rush of wind, and a second later Clark was there, and he wasn't alone, Chloe was in his arms, her father holding onto Clark, and all three of them were looking more than a bit singed.

"Chloe! Gabe!" Everyone exclaimed instantly. "What happened?!"

"The safe-house blew up." I said, before any of the others could. "I saw it barely seconds before it happened. Yelled for Clark, even as I ran towards you."

"The champagne is poisoned." Bruce deduced.

"Yes." I nodded, though it wasn't entirely necessary.

"It would appear someone just tried to kill us all." Fear slipped through bravado as Chloe spoke.

"No need to wonder who it was." Clark hissed.

"I thought this was supposed to be over..." Gabe said softly. "You said the safe-house was just a precaution, that we'd be getting our lives back!"

"And you will." Lex assured him immediately. "I will make sure of that. I promise you Gabe. Chloe was very brave, and her help has been invaluable to me, to all of us. I will not let her life be ruined because of this."

"We need to take Lionel's power away, somehow." Bruce stated seriously. "Only then will we all be truly safe."

"That was always the plan." Lex stated. "I just didn't expect him to be able to act so soon... he must be truly desperate."

"I think he was saying the truth..." I offered. "When he spoke of being sick. If he's truly dying... well, some say there's nothing more dangerous than a man with nothing to lose."

"Well, we have a lot to lose, and will not let him take any of it, anyone, from us." Lex announced.

"No, we won't." On that, we were all in agreement.

I didn't even notice I was panting. Really, even with all my advantages it hadn't been easy, having to run across half the castle to reach my friends... my family, in time. If I had been even a second later... I didn't even want to think about it.

I finally looked up as two sets of arms went around me: Lex and Bruce, and it didn't stop there, in a matter of seconds everyone except Gabe and Rachel were embracing me, and even the two of them were standing at my side, looking at me like I'd done some great deed...

"You did." Lex's sudden words made me wonder if he'd read my mind or I'd spoken out-loud. "You saved all our lives Rosalie... again."

"Thank you." Chloe murmured quietly. "Thank you so much."

I had no idea how we were going to take Lionel's power away, how we were going to ensure we'd all be safe... but there would be time for that. I truly believed that, between all of us we could find a solution, and we could keep our family safe until then. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing important ever was.

xXx

The next morning we woke up to the most unexpected news-report ever: Lionel Luthor was dead. Apparently he'd had some kind of catastrophic organ failure or something, some doctors claimed it was related to his liver cancer. Perhaps as a nurse I hadn't learned enough medicine to see the connection, or there wasn't one and people were making that part up. It didn't change the facts:

"Someone killed him."

Yeah, I suspected that part too. It didn't matter who said it, we all had thought it. Someone had killed Lionel Luthor and the authorities either didn't know or they were trying to cover it up (either on orders of the killer, or to hide their incompetence). It was obvious none of us had done it, we'd all been too busy recovering from the scare of almost dying. Though that didn't help us find out the culprit. I wasn't sure if we ever would. Perhaps we didn't need to. Perhaps all we needed to focus on, was that Lionel was dead, we were finally safe. Finally...

Chapter Text

Tea Roses

Some things, and some people, get to live forever in our memories...

Was it possible to learn a language through visions? I had no idea. Perhaps seeing myself speak the language, know what I was saying, made it so I eventually took that knowledge with me to the real world... It sounded insane no matter how I thought about it. I'd never been exactly bad with languages. After all, aside from English (which was my first language), I'd known Norse, Elvish and Irish while still quite young. Then, after meeting Willow I strove to learn Romany, and to that one followed a number of others: Spanish, French, German, Yiddish, Vietnamese... I probably would never have the impressive number of languages my mother did (the latest count went above the dozen and a half... I wondered if it was her intent to eventually know every single language on Earth... and the rest of the Realms). In any case, I'd never woken up from a vision (or a series of them) knowing a new language... especially an alien one.

Shocking developments notwithstanding, I knew I needed to focus on the things I'd seen, needed to act on them... before someone else did and our lives became a mess, again.

Which was how I ended at the Kents' place right as Clark was finishing his early morning chores. It was actually until I was at their kitchen door, and watching Martha put breakfast on the table, that I realized I hadn't had anything that morning yet.

"Rosalie...?" Martha was shocked by my presence. "Is everything alright?"

A second later Clark was right beside me, looking almost ready for anything:

"Did you see something?" He asked.

It'd been a week since someone in Lionel's payroll had attempted to murder all of us who'd been in any way involved with the trial. Six days since Lionel had been found dead, and since we'd all gone through a considerable ordeal explaining Gabe and Chloe Sullivan everything (or almost everything, she certainly didn't know about Batman). I still wasn't sure what part had been worse: Chloe's awe at the revelation that her best friend was an 'intergalactic traveler' (for some reason Clark didn't like the word: alien), or the realization of why exactly he'd been so afraid of telling the truth to her, starting with the Wall of Weird and her careless insistence that it was all the meteor shower's fault...

I would always consider it a small miracle that Chloe and Clark had managed to find a middle point. Though if there was one thing I'd never forget, it was the words they'd exchanged near the end (and yes, it was supposed to be a private conversation, not my fault when my Sight acts up).

"I'm here Clark." She told him softly. "I will always be here. I'll always do whatever is necessary to help you. I know I've not been the best of friends, especially in the last year. I let my obsession and my envy get the best of me and made some... well, less than stellar choices. But if you give me another chance I promise you'll never again have reason to doubt me..."

"I've never had reason to doubt you Chloe." Clark assured her. "Yes, you made mistakes where Lionel Luthor was concerned, but you weren't the only one; and you made things right. You took a huge risk, testifying against him, almost paid for it with your life even..."

"And you risked yourself revealing your secret to save my life, and my father's." She reminded him, still a hint of wonder in her voice.

By that point they'd already talked at length about Lana and Pete. About why Clark had told him about his powers exactly, and how they'd gotten to the point they were in that moment (with Pete gone); how Lana had never known, and never would. How Clark had finally realized that while he might love the idea of Lana, he didn't truly know her, and it was obvious that she too loved an idea she had had of him, but had never wanted to fully know him (no mater how much she'd insisted on the opposite, truth was that Lana was always scared when some of the less-than-normal parts of Clark began to show... and not just when it came to Red K). It may have taken a long time for Clark to accept the truth, but he finally had, he'd made peace with that. And Chloe... Chloe was there; she'd seen him at his best, and at his worst, and she was still there...

"I will always save you Chloe." He smiled.

"Wish I could say the same." She chuckled quietly. "But since that's not really my specialty. I will promise you this: your secret will never, ever, leave my lips. No matter what. And I'll always be here, for whatever you may need. Always."

"Always." Clark agreed.

The reason why my Sight had chosen to show me that became quiet clear as a thin ribbon of light appeared around them; just for a fraction of a second. It was still a small, fragile thing, but it was growing, gaining strength. Clark and Chloe were slowly but surely bonding.

"I..." It took me a second to focus again, something I knew worried the Kents. "Yes, I saw something. It's not exactly urgent though... we probably should act on it sometime soon."

"Okay." Martha nodded. "How about you come in, have breakfast with us, and then we'll handle whatever we need to?"

I just nodded.

It was how I ended sitting in the Kents' kitchen, with a baby in my lap and sharing in one of the most incredibly normal mornings I'd had in my life.

We'd just finished and they were all waiting for my explanation, when Lex and Chloe arrived. Separate, but they were there. For a moment it looked like Johnathan was going to send them away but I stopped him as something suddenly occurred to me:

"I think we will all be needed for this." I explained.

"For what?" Martha asked. "You haven't yet told us what needs to be done."

"We..." I shook my head, focusing, turning my eyes towards Clark. "I need to talk to Jor-El."

The reaction to that was entirely predictable: absolute (loud) denial.

"Are you insane?!"

"Do you remember what happened the last time the bastard got close to us?!"

"Mom/Martha almost died! And Sarah!"

"Rosalie..."

"Stop it!" I cut them all off. "Yes, I know you're right. I know I'm insane... I know all of it. But I also know what's going to happen if we don't try to stop Jor-El now. He will not give up on Clark. And his plans will get progressively worse. I've seen it! He will not care who gets hurt in the process, he cannot care..."

"Cannot...?" Lex seemed to be the only one to pick up on that.

"And you know what the worst part is?" I went on. "That's he's not evil. Not really."

That just brought even more disbelief.

"Look, I know this is hard." I interrupted them again. "But I need you to trust me. Trust that I've seen bad things, things that need to be stopped, and that I believe this is the right way to go about it. This may be our only chance..."

"And what happens when the bastard turns against you?" Clark demanded hotly.

"You do remember I'm not exactly the 'damsel in distress' kind, right?" I drawled. "If he tries anything against me I'll show him why it's a bad idea to mess with me and mine."

I wasn't sure if it was the words, the tone, or they simply realized I was much too stubborn to take no for an answer, so in the end we all came to an agreement. I was going to talk to Jor-El, and I wasn't going alone, we'd all be there for it (which was part of the plan, so...).

xXx

The caves had gone back to being Lex's property, which made it much simpler for us all to get in. And it really was all of us, even Chloe and Lex had insisted on tagging along, and an instinct inside told me they needed to be there. Martha and Johnathan with Sarah (since we didn't actually have anyone to leave her with), though Clark had been quite serious what he'd do if Jor-El so much as thought of hurting his little sister. I promised him I wouldn't let that happen.

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea." Clark murmured as went in.

"I can protect myself." I reminded him. "And if Jor-El does try something, you and I together can protect our family."

With some hesitation he eventually nodded, and so we went in. He and I were at the front of the group, and it was he who spoke first.

"Jor-El!" He called loudly.

"Kal-El..." Jor-El called, in a voice so full of pride and self-entitlement...

He sounded so much like Lionel Luthor in that moment I was almost sick at the mere thought, and I could tell I wasn't the only one.

"Have you finally come to take your rightful place?" Jor-El went on. "As the heir of Krypton, your birthright is..."

"Irrelevant unless he's the one choosing it." I cut him off evenly.

Everyone turned their eyes towards me instantly. They'd been so enthralled by Jor-El's voice, coming from all around at the same time, and the way some of the pictographs seemed to almost glow, they'd apparently forgotten about me.

"I am Clark Kent." The 'intergalactic traveler announced with unexpected strength. "Son of Johnathan and Martha Kent, and I will make my own destiny..."

"The Kents have served their purpose, now its time, time for yu to embrace who you were born to be..." Jor-El began.

"It's time you see the truth and stop trying to force a future that was never meant to be." I spoke up, interrupting him again.

"Who are you to speak to me that way, human?" He demanded.

"Of human I have very little." I couldn't help the snort, then straightened to my full height as I began reciting: "I am Rose Alfdis, daughter of Ice and Healing, of Magic and Voice... I am the Lady of Fire and Chaos... one with the Sight..." I made a pause, giving Jor-El time to process that before getting to the important part. "I have Seen you Jor-El. I have seen the tragic events that pushed you and Lara into making this choice, sending your only son, alone, to a faraway planet, with the hope that he might survive, when you knew nothing and no one else would... I've seen how much you both loved him, how you wanted nothing more than for him to survive, live and grow and be loved... It really wasn't a coincidence that Johnathan and Martha found him. You knew they'd be the right parents, that they'd do right by him, just like Hiram did for you..." I let out a breath. "I have also seen your insistence on forcing your son onto the path of your choosing, a path that's not his own choice, never will be. You're trying to force the hand of destiny, and that cannot be done."

"You have done it." Jor-El retorted. "I do not need to know you, Rose of Fire and Chaos, to understand that for you to be here, talking to me saying all this things that you wouldn't know were it not for your gifts, that means you yourself are playing at being the Hand of Destiny... who are you to judge me then?"

"No one." I shrugged. "Only the one who's seen the consequences of your choices. You will not win Jor-El, even now you must be able to see that. All you will manage is to hurt your son, more and more with each attempt, to destroy, perhaps forever, any chance for you to have his love... And I know that's not what you want. Deep down you don't even want to force your choices on him. Stop thinking that you know better, you don't. This is his life, not yours; this is not Krypton, this is Earth, and even if your son were to follow the path you wish for him, do you really believe the world, that humanity as a whole, would ever agree to it? The consequences would be worse than what befell Krypton!"

"I will never do it." Clark hissed. "I will never be a conqueror, will never hurt others for some supposed 'greater good'. That's not who I am."

"No, it's not." I agreed. "You're your parents' son. Both Martha and Johnathan Kent, and Lara and Jor-El... something you would all realize if Jor-El hadn't done something monumentally stupid."

That threw them all for a loop, like I knew it would.

"I've seen it." I pressed on. "Your decision to send an AI with your memories, with your thought processes, to act as a guide for your son... and I've seen you decide not to include your feelings, so you wouldn't hold him back. Well, this is the result. Your lack of empathy is hurting your son Jor-El, and it will do a lot more than that if you do not stop what you're doing. Accept the fact that Clark is his own man, has the right to his own choices, whether right or wrong. Be there for him, just like his human parents and friends are, but allow him to make his own destiny. He deserves it, we all do."

"If my son is allowed to follow his own pursuits, who will guard this planet then?" Jor-El asked.

The question was so unexpected, to everyone except perhaps myself, that there were actually a few shocked noises. Lex didn't let out any exclamation (it wasn't really his style), though I could see, from the corner of my eye, as he cocked his head sideways, as if considering the implications of such a question.

"Who says he won't do exactly that?" I asked in return. "He does not need to rule over humanity to protect it. But it must be his choice." I kept repeating the same over and over, hoping it would eventually get through the thick AI's head... or whatever it had that worked as such. "Besides, Earth is not without its own protectors."

"Like yourself?" Jor-El questioned, and I could almost hear a hint of humor in his voice, for perhaps the first time ever. "Rose of Chaos..."

"I am but one of many who have taken over the mantle, and who shall do it yet in years to come." I answered, somewhat cryptically.

"Very well, I will attempt to force my will on Kal-El no more." The A.I, agreed. "However, you must know that some things need to be done. Kal-El must learn of his people, the history of Krypton and its great advances..."

Clark turned to look at his family. They were all looking at him and the caves in turn, as if not quite sure if it was for real; after so long dealing with Jor-El, after everything that had already happened, none of them could quite believed that the AI of the Kryptonian would just back down because I asked it of him. Then again, they hadn't known, hadn't seen what Jor-El used to be like, he wasn't a dictator, or evil, or cruel; he was a good man, who in his attempt to do right by his son had made a few mistakes. Thankfully they were the kind of mistakes that could still be corrected. It wasn't all lost:

"It could be a good idea." Lex offered. "Imagine how much you could help humanity if we could adapt at least some of Krypton's advances to be used here... So much good could be done."

"And what if there are others?" Chloe offered. "I mean, your... Jor-El had the idea of sending you away to save you... what if he wasn't the only one?"

The question threw us all for a loop. I got the feeling there was something I was missing, like something I needed to see, or perhaps had seen already and just couldn't remember... (It didn't happen often, in fact, in that moment I couldn't remember an occasion when it had happened before, but it wasn't impossible either) I promised myself to go back to it later.

After Martha's and Johnathan's somewhat hesitant nod, Clark turned back to the wall of the cave:

"I will do it." He agreed. "As long as you give your word not to try to force your choices on me again... and I will not be leaving my family no matter what."

"That is... acceptable Kal-El." Jor-El agreed after a short pause. "The first thing you must do, is collect the Stones of Power."

"Stones of Power?" Several of us asked at the same time.

I could remember something from my visions, but it wasn't clear...

"The knowledge of our civilization was encoded in three stones brought to Earth and hidden at the far reaches of the world." Jor-El explained solemnly. "Greed will drive others to hunt the stones. But if the humans should unite them before you, they will not be able to withstand the temptation and will drive the world to famine, war, and the Earth's ultimate destruction. You must find the stones. The fate of the world lies in your hands... Kal-El."

"That sounds ominous..." Chloe offered.

"Dangerous." Lex offered, then turned to the A.I. "What of humans helping him find them?"

"Lex..." Clark began, and we could all tell he wasn't sure about that idea.

"You cannot do this alone, Clark." Lex stated. "Lets us help you. Together we can do this. We can help protect your, your secret, and the legacy of your people."

"Very well." Jor-El agreed, and I was sure there was a hint of something (Surprise? Approval?) in his voice. "That is an acceptable course of action. But you must always be on guard, all of you. Those Stones were never meant for humans. The knowledge of the universe was only ever meant for Krypton to guard. A wrong use of the stones could awaken a great danger from the darkness of space. A danger even you, my son, might not be able to defeat."

A word came to my lips, before I could even think it through:

"Thanos..." The Mad Titan...

Clark turned to look at me, the only one to have heard me, but Lex and Chloe were already talking to the AI, making plans to be able to find and retrieve the Stones of Power... Elements Jor-El called them at some point. I shook my head at Clark and we both turned out attention to those plans. There would be time to ponder on Thanos later... much later.

xXx

The hunt for the Stones granted us quite the interesting summer. I'm certain I traveled more in those three months than at any other point in my life, even when I'd been with the X-Men. Lex and I got in touch with all our contacts, trying to find the Stones (I even called my brother). And eventually those contacts paid. Not all the places where we went turned out to be locations for the stones, though some still held clues. Like Paris, the tomb of Countess Margaret Isobel Thoreaux had the Kryptonian symbol for water engraved; or Australia, where we found the symbol for fire in some ruins in the middle of the dessert.

And then there were the visits where we got nothing related to our search, but still managed to meet interesting people. Like the man in Nepal, he'd never given us his name, but he claimed to follow some Ancient One; they were spell-weavers and there was a power in him, in the place, much different than Papa's and Mama's magic, or what Wendy had been able to do. And then there was the woman we met in Southern Italy, while fleeing from a bunch of Neo-Nazi (they were humans, and we hadn't wanted to hurt them, even though they'd gone after us simply for being gifted). The woman had been standing before an old grave, and she'd helped us when seeing the situation. We'd invited her to return with us to Smallville, when realizing she too was gifted, but she refused, claiming to prefer her solitude and left us with nothing but a name: Diana.

We did find the stones though. The Fire Element was in Egypt, in the recently discovered tomb of some great hero of Ancient Egypt. I'd actually had nightmares while there, memories of the last time in that country, of the destruction and the pain I'd caused in my attempt to save the rest of the world. It was hard sometimes, while I wouldn't exactly say I regretted my actions (I still believed what I had when I made my choice), it still wasn't easy to accept that I was the kind of person who could destroy lives, even if it was to save others. Johnathan had once talked about drawing lines, about not crossing them... I wasn't sure if I had any not yet crossed...

The Air Element we found in China, buried beneath a very old tree. That one was actually the easiest 'mission'. Even though we were pursued by Chinese authorities at some point and were force to run in order not to be discovered. The complication came when we traveled to South America (after several contacts confirmed the location of the third element) only to find the place empty; and not because our information had been faulty, but because someone got the Water Element before we did.

We returned to the Kents' place after the trip to Honduras, to discuss what we were going to do after the failure. What we weren't expecting was to find others waiting for us there: a man in an electric wheelchair, and with a breathing apparatus connected straight to his larynx, with dark hair and light colored eyes; and beside him a woman in her twenties with blue eyes, red hair and dressed in a smart-suit.

"Dr. Swann?!" Clark and Chloe exclaimed in surprise.

"Patricia?!" Lex exclaimed at the same time.

The two newcomers looked just as shock by all of us (or perhaps just by a few of us), I didn't get the chance to focus on that, as a brief vision took me over right then; it was sudden enough that I actually stumbled for a moment. Prompting everyone to turn in my direction and Lex to hold me before I truly fell down.

"Rosalie!" Everyone exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." I answered honestly. "Though I think I shouldn't be the focus right now. We should be focusing on Dr. Swann and his daughter."

"I never mentioned she was my daughter..." Dr. Swann commented, turning his eyes to Lex.

For a moment it looked like Lex was going to point out he hadn't said a thing, but then just shrugged carelessly (he was probably trying to protect my own gifts, better they think that he'd said something, than them knowing I had the Sight). I smiled; Lex could be so overprotective of those he cared for.

"We need to talk in private Clark, it's extremely important." Dr. Swann said, very seriously.

"Whatever you need to say can be said in the present company, Dr. Swann." Clark assured him, quite calmly. "They all know."

"All of them!" Patricia exclaimed, clearly shocked. "You would put yourself in danger like that! With Lionel's son!"

"Why is it that I'm always blamed for what my father's done?" Lex asked tiredly. "They keep forgetting that I was also the one who put him in jail..." He revised. "Well, we all did..."

"And we almost died for that too." Chloe offered. "If it hadn't been... well, we were quite lucky."

"Almost a lucky as them." I murmured softly. "It's why they're so worried. Someone tried to kill them... and did kill someone else... I know not her name."

"Lex wouldn't do that!" Clark defended his friend instantly.

"No, I wouldn't." Lex agreed. "Why would I want to kill you anyway?"

"To take control of the Traveler, of course." Patricia practically spat.

"The Traveler...?" Lex repeated with air-quotes, not understanding.

"There was a secret society, the Veritas Society." I explained quietly. "Remember that man we met in that old church in Spain?"

"The one who came at Clark with that strange orb?" Chloe asked, curious.

"Yes." I nodded. "I still don't know what would have happened if we hadn't destroyed it, I only know it wouldn't have been good." I shook my head, pushing that aside. "But he told us about the Veritas Society, remember?"

"Considering that he kept spouting a lot of crazy stuff, I have to say I didn't bother remembering most of it." Chloe admitted with a slight shrug.

"It wasn't all insane." Lex pointed out. "Jor-El was bent on the whole 'conqueror' thing until Rosalie set him straight."

"But Clark would have never done that!" Chloe defended.

"Of course not, but he couldn't have known that, could he?" Lex explained calmly.

"What does that have to do with Veritas or whatever it's called?" Clark asked.

"I collected the man's diary as we were leaving." I explained calmly. "There was a lot written there about the Veritas Society. A group of families that gathered together, they knew that a Traveler was coming from the stars, and promised to be there for him or her. Some feared that the Traveler might be a danger for humanity, others hoped he'd bring good... The Society was apparently disbanded in 1989, shortly before the meteor shower actually."

"Sounds convenient." Lex deadpanned. "How come I didn't know about that journal? I would have liked to see it. It might have held clues for our search... and if this Veritas is a risk for us we needed to know yesterday."

"I didn't think about it, when I picked it up." I admitted with a shrug. "Not until later. And then we got that clue about Egypt... I had completely forgotten about it until I heard Clark speak a couple of minutes ago."

"Me?" Clark almost squeaked in surprise.

"The name Swann." I explained quietly. "He was part of the Society, he was its founder. Along with the Teagues, the Queens, a woman just named as Crosby, and the Luthors."

"The Queens as in Oliver Queen's family...?" Lex began, only to be completely derailed from that thought two seconds later. "The Luthors?!"

"Yes." I nodded.

"You definitely should have told me about this Rosalie." Lex almost hissed at me.

"I did, somewhat." I muttered sheepishly. "I asked you if the name Veritas sounded familiar to you, you said no. I also questioned you about having known a Swann or the Teague family... you told me that even if you did, many of your memories from before the meteor shower had gotten scrambled. And afterwards you didn't spend much time with your father..."

"No, only my mother and Julian... and when they were gone I was already at Excelsior. Met Oliver Queen there... we didn't get along, and he never said anything about having known me before. He certainly wasn't a friend of mine." Lex shrugged, then narrowed his eyes at me again. "You should have told me it was something important. What if Clark had been attacked? Or anyone else for that matter?"

"Some was attacked!" Patricia interrupted abruptly. "My father and I were almost assassinated. Bridgette is dead! And he was behind it!"

"Patricia..." Her father began.

"Hey!" Clark exclaimed at the same time. "Who do you think you are to come and accuse one of my best friends of murder?!"

"Best friends?!" Patricia almost shrieked. "He's going to get you killed..." Her father called her name again, but there was no stopping the young woman. "Just like his father killed Uncle Robert and Aunt Laura!"

I could vaguely see the shock in Clark's, Chloe's and even Lex's expression; but there was no time for that, as yet another vision swallowed me. It was longer and more to the point than the one I'd had upon arrival. I saw a couple, a plane, a crash that was no accident, the young boy left alone in the aftermath of the tragedy. And then there were others, a woman, a man, a son... that whole family was beyond insane! When the rush of images and information ended I was on the floor, being held by Lex, Chloe and Clark on guard before us.

"What was that?" Patricia asked, the wind seemed to have gone out of her sails and she sounded honestly confused.

"A vision." I deadpanned.

"Rosalie!" My friends cried out in unison.

"They need to know." I explained as I got on my feet with Lex's help. "Because they need to believe me when I say that Lex didn't try to kill them, or have them killed, and he certainly didn't murder Bridgette Crosby."

"Of course she would say that..." Patricia began.

"Lionel did kill the Queens." I went on, ignoring her completely.

"Not exactly a surprise." Lex admitted quietly. "We all knew my father was a murderous bastard. I mean, he did try to kill us and all..."

"Wonder what his expression would have been if he'd learned he failed..." Chloe muttered.

"We'll never know." Clark replied. "And it's not important anymore. He's gone and we're safe, that's all that matters."

"We're not safe." I corrected him. "Lionel might be gone, but there are other dangers."

"There always will be." Lex pointed out. "So, my father murdered the Queens, but he's already dead, so there's no way he's behind what's happening now... unless he managed to convince someone to continue his work even after his death, perhaps put away some money to pay for their services... unlikely, seeing as no one's tried to kill us..."

"Not him." I cut him off. "You're forgetting one name."

"The Teagues." Chloe spoke right then. "Who are the Teagues anyway and why would they want to kill us at all?"

"The woman is called Genevieve Teague, and she has a son called Jason." I explained. "Her husband, Edward Teague, was said to have died, he went into hiding after she tried to kill him. He's the man we met in Spain. He's dead now, of course, though that one wasn't on us." I shook my head, remembering how he'd just dropped dead for no apparent reason; an aneurysm, the doctors had said. "Genevieve and Jason saw us in France, when we were studying Isobel's tomb... they have some sort of interest in it as well, some past history perhaps; they also know we're looking for the Stones, and so are they. Only they've been looking for them for years and the closest they ever got was the engraving on that tomb."

"They're coming after us, aren't they?" Chloe groaned.

"Most likely." I nodded. "They went after those they knew first. Jason Teague murdered Ms. Crosby, while Genevieve was behind the 'accident' that nearly claimed the lives of Dr. Swann and his daughter. They'll probably be going after Lex next."

"Unless..." Lex began, then cut off abruptly.

"I really don't like that face." Chloe murmured.

"Neither do I." Clark and I agreed.

"If I make them see me as a potential ally, I could get close to them, see what they know, and how much of a risk they are to us all." Lex offered.

"I don't like it." We all agreed on that.

"We need to do it." Lex insisted. "For all of our sakes."

"What if you're found?" Clark asked, testily. "What if they try to kill you? What if I'm not fast enough next time?"

Lex was about to say something, probably remind us all that he was a grown man and quite capable of looking after himself. I didn't allow a single word to leave his lips.

"I'll have his back." I announced.

Everyone turned to look at me instantly.

"If you're doing this, you're not doing it alone." I stated, looking straight at my friend. "I'll be with you, whatever happens."

"Thank you." He nodded after a moment.

Dr. Swann and his daughter just looked at us in a mix of shock and wonder, like they couldn't believe we'd just made a plan to get close to two murderers, who were likely to try and kill us all at any given moment... yeah, when put like that it probably did sound more than a bit insane. But such was our life. Also, learning that Bridgette Crosby had had the Water Element with her when she went missing, and it hadn't been on her body when it was found... it only gave us all the more reason to find the Teagues. We needed to get that Stone before something catastrophic happened (we didn't want to find out if Jor-El had been being over-dramatic or dead-honest when he'd described the consequences of humans getting the Stones).

xXx

We pulled it off. Not quite sure how. Lex knew I didn't love him, that no matter how much time might pass, I'd always love Peter, and he... he was slowly but surely getting closer to Patricia (which I was sure was an absolute surprise for everyone involved). It was odd. Since we were trying to keep them safe from the Teagues, Dr. Swann and his daughter had moved into my house, while I moved into the mansion, playing the part of 'rich-man's girl'. For additional safety Dr. Swann never left the house, and Patricia only ever did so disguised, and using the name of Trish Cyan, Chloe's cousin.

Aside from the inherent risks in the 'game' we were playing with the Teagues, that year seemed to go much better than any of the previous three ones. Clark and Chloe took it upon themselves to try and find other metahumans before they went insane, try and give them something to believe in so they might not go crazy or do bad things. It didn't always go right; the two had to learn, the bad way, that some people simply didn't want to be saved, and that some simply would rather be evil. Being seemingly proven right about Lex had given Clark a confidence that while endearing could also be dangerous; it also reminded me about Uncle Howard and Charles, and all the ways the former had helped and the latter never knew.

There were some complications though, concerning LexLuthorCorp. As we were faced with the consequences of a number of illegal (and highly unethical) experiments from LuthorCorp; one that had had serious consequences for a young man... (Chloe and Clark had done their best to help him, before he chose to go his own way). And my friends finally came upon proof of what I'd been telling them for a while, that the people affected by the meteors were not the only gifted in the world... not by far.

We also had some trouble when Chloe's real cousin: Lois Lane decided to drop by for no apparent reason and then wanted to know why exactly there was a woman claiming to be their cousin and using their mother's maiden-name... I have no idea what Chloe told her exactly, but at least Lane stopped asking questions before they reached the wrong ears.

It took several months, but eventually Lex and I managed to get Jason's trust (it was unlikely we'd ever get Genevieve's), and he revealed what we all suspected already: his mother had the missing Element. Lex spun a complex story about wanting to learn all of his father's secrets, including Veritas, wanting to know what was so important Lionel had devoted so much of his life to it. It was hard to tell if Jason believed Lex was trying to honor his father, or one-up him; whichever it was, it seemed to be enough for the time being.

It was all going quite well (perhaps too well), until the day Dr. Swann ended in the hospital.

It was no murder attempt, simply his own health worsening. According to Patricia they'd known it was coming. Still, when he first stopped breathing it caused us all to panic, enough we didn't take all the precautions we should have. Before the end of the day the Teagues knew that not only the Swanns were in town, and had been for months, but we'd known... it all finally went to hell right after Dr. Swann's funeral (he'd never recovered... passed away two days after ending in the hospital, with his daughter, Chloe and the Kents keeping him company).

The Teagues came after us. Thankfully Clark and Chloe weren't with us, they'd just graduated and a party had been arranged at the manor (Lex and I were actually supposed be in charge of it, had been the ones to plan it for weeks, but the Kents had promised to help oversee it, so we could accompany Patricia in her grieving).

They were inside the house and coming at us before we knew what was happening. There was a lot of shouting, insults and cursing, and then Jason pulled out a gun and shot at Patricia before any of us could move. Thankfully the bullet hit her shoulder and not her heart or her head. Still, it was enough for Lex to go nuts. They began fighting, nothing formal, or refined, all fists and feet and everything they could do. Genevieve went after me.

"You will give me the Stones, little girl." She hissed at me.

"Whyever would I do that?" I scoffed. "You have no right to demand anything of me. The Stones do not belong to you."

"They do so!" She almost shrieked. "They are my birthright. Which has been denied to me and my line for centuries!"

"You're absolutely nuts." I told her bluntly.

That, somehow, seemed to be enough to make her snap, she rushed me, going straight for my neck. I fought her back, I really did, but there was just something... off about her, something I couldn't put my finger on. Our fight was only interrupted when a shot rang.

"Lex!" I screamed in panic.

That was all the advantage she needed, in a second hands were around my neck. And then, as I tried to call on fire... I couldn't. And then I understood what had felt so wrong before, there was magic on her. Not enough for me to notice it most the time, but in that moment it served to block me from accessing my own gift. For the first time since I was five years old fire didn't respond to my call... I began feeling almost cold, and it wasn't just the fact that I was being slowly strangled to death. No, the loss of my gift was worse than the choking.

"Let her go." It was Lex... he was alive!

Genevieve began wailing like a banshee as the realization came to her, the fact that her son was the one the bullet had hit. Jason was dead. She let go of my neck then, and I began coughing automatically, and yet I couldn't move, too affected still. I didn't even feel when Lex took hold of my arms and pulled me as far away from the insane bitch as he could.

It wasn't enough, Genevieve let out an inhuman shriek before pulling the Water Element from her clothes, holding it as if it were a blade, and then made a move to stab me with it. I couldn't move, I was too weak. All I could do was close my eyes, take a deep breath, brace myself for the pain... it couldn't be any worse than a bullet to my stomach, right?

Except the stone never touched me... seconds passed and I felt nothing and then... a groan.

I was actually so shocked it took me two or three seconds to fully process what had happened; the fact that Lex had taken the attack for me, the stone was high on his back. His pain hit me then.

"Lex!" Patricia screamed, apparently having just woken up.

My reaction was instinctive then, as I pulled the stiletto blade camouflaged as a chopstick from my hair and used it to pierce straight through Genevieve's neck... then I pulled it out. I could see her blood, could see her shock, the knowledge that she was going to die, could see the light go out of her eyes and almost sense the moment her heart stopped beating. I'd killed people before, either directly or indirectly, but never like that.

"Lex!" Patricia's repeated scream reminded me that that wasn't the moment to have a meltdown.

"Patricia, call an ambulance." I instructed, as I did my best to sit up without jostling Lex.

She hurried to do as instructed, I could only pray they'd hurry.

The ambulance arrived about at the same time Chloe and Clark did. I waited until the very last moment, as the paramedics were rushing into the house, to pull the Water Element from Lex's back; his body arched and he let out a brief but painful cry, as Patricia hurriedly moved to put pressure on his wound. I wrapped the Stone in a kerchief and offered it to Clark.

"What happened?" Chloe asked, shocked.

"No time to explain." I told her, shaking my head. "Suffice it to say that the Teagues are dead, we're still alive, and you need to get the Stone to that altar before something else happens."

What I didn't tell them was that I had a very bad feeling... something had already happened, and we hadn't seen the end of it yet.

xXx

The next morning the doctors were cautiously optimistic that Lex would recover in time (one of the doctors had told us that, from his experience, almost anyone else would have died from such an injury, and the very few who might have survived, would have been rendered quadriplegic... Lex was recovering, better and faster than anyone else could ever hope to, he would eventually be alright... it was the drugs all over again). Patricia hadn't moved from his bedside all night. And me? I'd spent half that time answering questions from Sheriff Adams and her deputies: Yes, I knew the Teagues, they were old friends of the Luthors who'd paid us a few visits over the last few months; no, I had no idea why they'd tried to kill us; None of us had exactly killed Jason, he and Lex had fought and the gun went off; I didn't plan on killing Genevieve, it was self-defense, after she tried to kill me and ended injuring Lex; and I carried the bloody dagger because it wasn't the first time someone tried to kill me (which was on record)! The second half I'd spent it sitting on the floor, outside of Lex's hospital room (since only one person could be inside with him at a time, and Patricia refused to move).

Clark and Chloe arrived early in the morning, bearing bad news.

"What do you mean a bloody meteor shower is coming?" I hissed in dismay (and yes, my British was showing again).

"That's what Jor-El told us." Chloe informed me. "After the Stones came together, forming a Crystal, we got transported to the middle of nowhere... and it was freezing! And then the Crystal flew off Clark's hand and this huge... palace of glass and ice or whatever came out of the ground. It's supposed to be some kind of great repository of knowledge..."

"I see..." I murmured, then shook my head. "That's not the priority right now. The shower?!"

"Right..." Chloe turned towards Clark.

"Jor-El said he warned us about humans getting their hands on the Stones." Clark murmured. "Warned about a great danger from the darkness of space."

"And this danger is a meteor shower?" Somehow I didn't think it was that simple.

"No, it's what's coming with the shower." Clark admitted grimly.

"We need to evacuate the people." Was the first thing I thought.

"I already considered that." Clark shook his head. "There's no time. And we need to be ready to fight what's coming."

I knew he was right, it was awful, but no less true. Chances were people would end up in even more danger if they tried to run.

"Very well." I nodded. "You two need to go see your parents. Tell them what's going on, see if they can help us. Even if we cannot properly evacuate the people, we might be able to get them out of as much danger as we can."

"The basement in the Luthor Manor." Clark said suddenly. "Lex told me once that Lionel had it reinforced to be able to stand anything... even a meteor..."

"Lets hope he's right." I nodded. "Go!"

In a rush, the two were gone. I took a deep breath and made my way towards the Head Nurse. She needed to be warned of what was coming, even if I hadn't the slightest idea of how I was supposed to convince her...

xXx

In the end convincing the Head Nurse, and the doctors in the room at the time, of what was coming wasn't that hard. According to them, odd things happened in Smallville on a daily basis, they were willing to believe that a meteor shower was coming and not only that, but I knew of it when even NASA did not. They weren't going to leave though, their patients needed them; the ones in the hospital right then, and the ones that might yet come. So they'd put everyone on alert and be as ready as they could.

I was just exiting the hospital when the shower began, and the moment the first rock hit the ground (thankfully a good distance away from the hospital) a vision hit me:

Meteors fell, one after the other, some on houses, or on fields, many particularly close to Luthor manor; though, thankfully, none directly on it. And then, among all the space rocks, something that was more than that: a spaceship... a sleek black ship, which opened, and from it two figures emerged, one male and one female. They wore slight armor, had glowing green eyes, and wielded powers like Clark's... they were looking for him, for Kal-El, and they cared not what they had to destroy, who they had to kill, to get to him.

I vaguely noticed that something was dripping from one end of the ship, like black-water or oil, but didn't focus on that. The priority was the two aliens... And then I saw the female slip an odd-looking bracelet from her wrist, using it to open a vortex of some kind. I had no idea what was on the other side (if anything) but I knew it couldn't be good.

"Clark!" I called as I began running down the streets, as fast as I could, allowing my instincts to guide me so I would evade craters and meteors. "It's not just the meteors. The thing coming with them, the true danger, it's a ship. There are aliens on it, I think they might be Kryptonian and they're looking for you... It's not good, they need to be stopped, otherwise they will destroy Smallville. Kill us all. They will be landing quite close to the manor. Lex and Trish are in the hospital. I'm on my way. Will be there in a few minutes."

I wasn't expecting a reply, I just hoped he'd hear me and be ready to fight. It'd been our idea to get people to the manor, the last thing we needed was for them to end up like sheep in a slaughter-house... but no, I wouldn't let that happen... we wouldn't let that happen. So, with that in mind, I took to the fields, running as fast as I could.

The run across the fields and the parts that could almost be called forest reminded me of my run two years before, on my way to save Johnathan and Martha. It was amazing, how much things had changed since: with little Sarah (soon to be two), Lex practically a member of the Kent family, Trish, all of us knowing everyone's secrets... I didn't want to imagine how things might have been if I hadn't been fast enough that day... and so I kept running.

When I reached the entrance to the manor, the situation was so much more than anything I could have imagined... Clark was there, fighting against the two Kryptonians. And there was the vortex in a corner (they each kept trying to throw their opponents into it). But Clark wasn't alone, Chloe and at least a dozen other people kept calling warnings, throwing things at the invaders, and some were even using gifts against them. And it wasn't just the gifted we'd rescued from Level 3 and Belle Reeve, but even some we hadn't known existed. They had all revealed themselves and were risking their lives, to save Clark; who was using all his abilities openly for the first time to protect them, to save Smallville.

I was trying to decide if I should act as a nurse to help the few who seemed to be injured, or join Clark in the fight against the Kryptonians, when I noticed a black puddle on the ground. It looked the same as the dripping substance in my vision, except it was moving, taking shape... I didn't need a vision to know what would be happening next. As the thing took the form of a blonde man in dark clothes, its arm re-shifting almost instantly into a spike; I was on the move before I could even think about it.

I vaulted over what looked like the remains of a fountain, landing on a half-crouch behind Chloe, barely managing to pull my biggest vibranium dagger (the size of a short, one-handed sword) from the inner pocket of my jacket and use it to stop the spike. The vibranium had the effect it was supposed to, absorbing the impact and turning it against my opponent, which was probably the only reason why my arm didn't break the moment we clashed.

I didn't even need to yell at Chloe to run, in an instant Alicia was there and teleporting her a safe distance away. I didn't turn to look behind me, instead shifted the grip on the dagger and deciding the number of enemies made another fighter more necessary than a nurse, threw myself into battling the unknown creature.

I lost track of how long we fought the aliens. The whole situation was absolutely insane. I'd managed to stab the third being a number of times, and it never seemed to be enough. It was driving me crazy. And then came a scream.

Everything happened so fast, I wasn't sure how much I saw and how much I just knew: Clark managed to overpower the two Kryptonians, right as they tried to throw him into the vortex for the umpteenth time, which made them end inside it instead. However, before he or anyone else got the chance to celebrate, the other creature was suddenly behind him, having just driven his arm-turned-spike into Clark's back, and out his chest. In a location I feared it might have just gone through his heart. Chloe was the one screaming.

I reacted automatically, coating the dagger in flame and throwing it straight at the thing's head. For a second it seemed to work, then it turned liquid and moved away.

"Alicia!" Someone yelled the teleporter's name.

In a second the blonde was beside Clark, and the next she'd gotten him to the protection of the mansion; where I could hear people yelling for someone to help... I had no idea what to do. I wanted to go in and see to Clark, try and save him, but I couldn't turn my back on the other creature, especially since the vortex had disappeared once the other two were gone. I could keep fighting the shifter, but had no idea how to take it down effectively, nothing seemed to be working and then...

"Rosalie!" It was Alicia, standing behind me. "Chloe says the thing is somehow connected to the ship. It might be how it keeps going."

I realized what she meant, if she ship was the problem...

"Keep everyone away from me, and from the ship." I told her. "Whatever happens, no one is to get close. It's too dangerous."

"What are you going to do?" She asked, curious.

"Light things up a bit." I quipped.

I could tell she saw the moment my eyes changed, from the chocolate brown they were most of the time, to the red-orange-black that signaled I was using my power, that I was calling onto the part of myself that was the farthest from human... As I widened my stance and braced myself for what I was coming, memories began running through my head, slowly at first, then faster. A ring of fire formed around me, and a part of me couldn't help but think about all the parallels in my life, comparing them: I'd been nurse and protector in the Xavier Institute; and while at first I'd only been a school nurse in Smallville, I'd slowly joined the group who chose to protect the town (who one day might step forth to join those dedicated to the world's defense). Wendy and Lex had both been drugged by people who should have protected them, and I'd been fortunate enough to be able to help in both cases (particularly since the first experience helped with the second). I'd once taken a bullet for someone I held dear... just like Lex had taken a wound for me the day before. I'd first unleashed my full power in Cairo, to protect those I loved... hopefully I'd be able to repeat that feat (hopefully also with better control than that time).

I breathed deeply as the ring of fire around me moved inwards rather than outwards, taking shape in between my cupped hands, where it changed colors: from orange to red, to gold, and then, finally, to white... I let out a breath as the fire flew from my hands, straight at the ship, and then all I could do was focus all my energy and keep going. Hold on as long as I could, make sure there was nothing left.

It was absolutely nuts. That thing was a bloody spaceship, created by a very advanced alien race to travel through the stars. It'd probably been created to withstand everything in space, even the heat of suns. Could I possibly make my fire run hotter than the sun's?! I had no idea, but it seemed like I was about to find out.

As darkness began closing in on me, for a handful of seconds I thought I could see one future unraveling in front of me: a world where the creature from the ship: Brainiac, worked at bringing back its master: General Zod, the same Kryptonian that was ultimately responsible for the destruction of Krypton and the loss of its race; where Lex Luthor was chosen as Zod's vessel, and while he was eventually freed, he was never the same again; where Patricia died, Chloe's whole life was forever changed by choices not her own; where vigilantes were called heroes and the world insisted on seeing things in black and white; where Clark lost a piece of himself each day that passed; where a bond shriveled and eventually died, and two hearts were never tied together the way they were supposed to... And just as it came to me, that whole future vanished, falling into pieces, like the breaking of a mirror. Destiny was up for grabs... the world (the universe) would never be the same again.

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

Lex finally managed to convince the doctors to let him go three days after he was admitted in (probably because the doctors decided that others needed the bed more than him). Patricia drove him to the manor, where a number of people were still staying (until their homes were repaired). He learnt that Rosalie was unconscious, had been since incinerating the alien ship where the two aliens and the strange creature that seemed to be made of living metal had arrived, after Clark threw the two aliens into a vortex. Rosalie didn't seem to be in any danger, someone had theorized that she'd used so much energy pouring white fire at that thing it'd probably take her a while to recover enough to wake up. And really, she was just the tip of the iceberg.

Clark had died... and then Chloe... but they were both alive in that moment. And Lex wasn't sure what was greater in that moment: his horror at what had happened to two of his dearest friends, his gratefulness at whatever deity or power in the universe had allowed them to survive against all odds, or his curiosity at how that had happened exactly.

"It's my... gift." Chloe explained when he and Patricia got to speak to her and Clark in private.

Chloe and Clark were sticking together, like a part of them couldn't bear to be apart, had been like that since the battle; though, considering that Patricia refused to be parted from him, and he didn't exactly mind, who was Lex to judge?

"Gift...?" Lex repeated, surprised. "I didn't know..."

"Neither did I." Chloe shrugged, though it was obvious she was still bit upset by the whole thing. "It was Jor-El who told us, when we were in the Fortress. Though we didn't really understand it back then... he had just told us that another meteor shower was coming to Smallville, after all... It all came back to me when I saw Clark fall. Alicia got him to me, and I wanted so much to save him, yet had no idea how, and then I remembered Jor-El and all I could think was that I needed to save him, that I couldn't live without him..."

Clark entwined his hand with her as she said those words, half-broken off at the end by a sob.

"So you healed him..." Patricia murmured, trying to wrap her head around it. "And then died?"

"I don't heal, not exactly." Chloe seemed to have trouble finding the right words for it. "It's like... like I take the injury into myself, and then... and then I heal."

"And apparently revive too!" Patricia sounded just this side of hysterical.

"Yes..." Chloe nodded, very quietly. "Though I don't think I can do that very often. It... when I woke up I felt like I had to be very careful. Like one day I might try it and not come back..."

"Which is why you're never doing that again." Clark stated, pressing a finger to her lips before she could argue. "Healing is one thing. But you're not bringing someone back from the dead ever again. Even if that someone is me."

"But Clark..." The blonde began.

"I agree with him Chloe." Lex stated quietly. "Seeing you get hurt while helping others would... will be bad enough. But if you died, for real, especially because of one of us..."

He couldn't finish the statement, but he didn't need to. Even Chloe had to admit she saw his point. She might not like it; the only reason she wasn't going hysterical at the reality of being a meta, with the beliefs she'd held about them for years, was because she knew she could use it to help (and that her friends would make sure she didn't go nuts). At the same time, she understood the others simply didn't want to lose her.

"I'll try my best not die on you." She said, finally.

"You cannot die on me." Clark stated, a sudden intensity to his words. "I don't know what I'd do without you Chloe... I don't think I could survive..."

That wasn't everything. As Lex soon found out. The National Guard had arrived to Smallville, too late to evacuate anyone, but they'd certainly been interested, particularly when realizing that only a handful of people had died, and the inhabitants seemed to have a handle on things already. The Kents had taken charge, explaining how they all had experience (seeing how it was their second meteor shower in less than twenty years...), and that the destruction had been somewhat limited to the less populated areas.

By some kind of quiet agreement, no one had made the slightest mention of aliens, ships, battles, or gifted. Smallville was protecting its metahumans; for the first time they were realizing that they could be good, they could help... and perhaps it was better if no one outside their little town knew such people existed. Most of them were so young, and they didn't deserve to have their lives destroyed by the government, or someone wishing them harm.

"It's amazing." Alicia said one day. "When I found out about what Clark could do I wanted other people to know. Because he's like us, and they like him, and I thought if they realized he's meta too, then we'd have a chance, at them liking us I mean. Because they'd see that not all of us are crazy and shit. And now they do know about Clark... but it's even better, because they like us for us. I helped fight aliens!"

"And you can never tell anyone that." Chloe reminded her.

"Well, everyone here in Smallville knows, so that's good enough." Alicia shrugged. "And all the little brats that want me to teleport them around, that think it's cool and all!"

Alicia was definitely getting a thrill out of people liking her powers, and she clearly wasn't the only one, either.

Those without powers (mostly the adults) would sometimes approach one of the metas to thank them for what they'd done that day, or something else they might have done, or to ask for help. They were becoming a group, a team, and while none of them were exactly interested in being superheroes or anything, they didn't mind helping the town when it became necessary.

xXx

Rosalie woke up the next morning. It wasn't even dawn yet. The Kents and Sullivans were still staying in the mansion, since the Kent home was one of those to have been hit by the meteors; and since Chloe had refused to let go of Clark after what had happened to both of them, and Gabe wouldn't go without his daughter (he too was a bit shaken after what had happened). They all woke that morning, seemingly without any reason, though they could all feel a desire to go outside, to the half-destroyed gardens.

Rosalie was there, black hair down, with a hint of her natural auburn beginning to show through the dye, chocolate brown eyes with a ring of the red-orange-black around the iris (it'd been there since she'd used her fire to destroy the ship), wearing a simple brown dress and no shoes, she was sitting on a pile of stones that had once been a sculpture of some kind... and she was singing:

"It keeps coming back to me
I remember this pain
It spreads across my eyes
Everything is dull"

"Everyone's smiling, they're smiling
It pushes me far far away
I can't understand
Everything is blue"

"Can you hear me out there?"

Martha and Johnathan were the only ones wearing day-clothes, even little Sarah in her father's arms was still in her pjs; Gabe himself was in pajamas, while Lex and Patricia were wearing whatever they usually slept in, with dressing robes on top; the least dressed were perhaps Clark and Chloe, the first who was wearing nothing except sleeping pants, while Chloe was wearing a long shirt (the one that probably went with Clark's pants...) and little else.

"What's going on...?" Gabe began, being the last to join the group.

He was summarily shushed by everyone else, who had gotten as close to Rosalie as they thought they could without being noticed by her, to listen in to her song.

"Is it just me or does she sound sad?" Patricia asked quietly.

"Rosalie has been sad for as long as I've known her." Lex told her softly. "It's not always obvious. In fact, most of the time she does a pretty good job of hiding it, but if you really look at her you'll notice her smiles rarely ever reach her eyes..."

Johnathan and Gabe looked at him like he was crazy, but Martha agreed immediately.

"I've noticed it too." She nodded.

"Do you think it has something to do with her daughter?" Chloe's question took everyone completely by surprise.

"What did you do Chloe?" Clark finally asked with a low sigh.

"Nothing bad, I promise." Chloe hurried to assure him. "I got curious about her at some point. Researched her. Found it interesting how there are practically no records of Rosalie Nova before the summer of 97. And I know it has nothing to do with the Kane family..."

Lex shrugged, it's not like they were lying to her or anything.

"What daughter?" Johnathan asked, wanting to get back on track.

"In 2001 she fostered a little girl called Mary." Chloe explained. "The girl was removed from her previous family due to abuse, there was no one who could take her in, and even the orphanage was full. Rosalie took her in. It was supposed to be a temporary measure, but after three months papers were signed to make it official. They were about to reach the six month mark, when Mary was taken away and placed with another family."

"But why?" Patricia didn't understand.

"According to the files I found, she wasn't considered as the right kind of person to be a foster mother, since she was single, so young, just starting a career." Chloe enlisted, snorting. "She was also apparently about to lose her job."

"She came here in 2001." Clark reminded everyone, somewhat unnecessarily.

"The bedroom..." Patricia breathed out in realization, then elaborated. "The second bedroom at her place. It's decorated as a girl's room. I didn't pay it much attention when I was staying there, didn't imagine it to be significant."

"She kept a picture there." Lex nodded. "I saw it once, last year, while I was recovering from the drugs. It shows her and a little brunette child, about eight years old."

Silence reigned, no one had any idea what to say. They'd known Rosalie had secrets, and yet it was beginning to appear that the more they learned about her, the more they still didn't know.

"Will you hold me now? Hold me now, My frozen heart
I'm gazing from the distance and
I feel everything pass through me
I can't be alone right now"

"Will you hold me now? Hold me now, My frozen heart
I'm lost in a deep winter sleep
I can't seem to find my way out alone
Can you wake me?"

Martha and Johnathan had kept mostly silent as the others talked about Rosalie and her former foster-child. They'd known about it. The young nurse had told them during the summer she'd spent with them in the farm. They'd even offered to talk to Child Services to try and convince them to reconsider; or if that didn't work, they could perhaps try and adopt Mary themselves, at least Rosalie would have been able to be close to her then.

Rosalie had refused, and the Kents at first hadn't understood why. Though the realization came eventually. If they'd done that, it would have also meant putting their own adoption of Clark in the spotlight, either as they were considered for foster-parents, or simply in order to see the kind of people they were. It would have been the Dunleavy mess all over again. They simply couldn't afford to have authorities look too close into that adoption.

It was a pity, because both Martha and Johnathan were sure Rosalie would have been a wonderful mother. Perhaps one day she'd still be. They could only hope, both for their friend, and for the little girl who, hopefully, would find other parents that loved her as much as Rosalie did. And who knew? Perhaps one day the almost-family would meet again... it was a nice dream to have.

"I know when I let it in
It hides love from this moment
So I guard it close
I watch the moves it makes"

"But it gets me, but it gets me
I wish I could understand how I
Could make it disappear, make it disappear"

"Anyone out there hear me now?"

There was just so much sadness in Rosalie's voice as she sang... it was heartbreaking, and ever so slowly, most of them held onto their respective beloveds, feeling like only their touch would keep them from losing themselves in the pain the young woman was letting out.

Martha and Johnathan embraced, their infant daughter (their precious miracle) held in between them. Martha could still remember her father when she'd first told him she wouldn't be joining his buffet, like he'd planned; instead she was going to marry the man she loved, who was a farmer, she would leave Metropolis to be a farmer's wife in Smallville. William Clark had told her she was making a mistake, he'd ranted and raged about it, about the hard life she'd have, the grief, how she'd never get to have the good things she was used to... But what could be better than love? That of a man who held her every night, who told her he loved her every morning, and proved it with every single thing he did, every day? The love of two children, one of her heart, the other of her womb, both loved as much as the other. It might not be the life her parents wanted for her, but Martha could never ask for more.

Lex and Trish were still finding themselves, as heirs to their respective families, as the last true members of Veritas, and in each other. Lex had been married twice, and neither had ended quite well (seeing how both of his wives tried to kill him...); while Patricia had lived a fairly sheltered life, dedicated to continuing her father's work, to being ready so she might aid the Traveler when he needed it, especially when the day came that her father wouldn't be there anymore... Finding love in each other had never been in their plans, yet they weren't so crazy as to let the opportunity pass them by. They'd take it slow, and hope for the best.

Clark and Chloe... they were a couple, neither of them had any doubts about that, and not just because of what had happened between them the previous two nights. No, it went beyond sex or anything like that. It was crazy because they were both painfully aware of how obsessed with Lana Clark had been for the longest time, all the times he'd left Chloe hanging for the other girl... and yet ever since he'd first kissed her (really kissed her, by his own will and not on red K or some virus, or hypnosis, or anything like that) Clark couldn't imagine himself with anyone else but Chloe; while the blonde herself had known for a while how she felt (and she had a letter to prove it too!). It was as if they were made for each other, as if some Higher Being had shaped their souls to be a perfect match...they just hadn't realized it before.

Gabe was the only one who stood alone, and yet in his head, and in his heart, it wasn't so. Because he still loved his wife: Moira Cyan-Sullivan, the mother of his child, the love of his life. Gabe was quite sure he'd always love Moira. Nothing had ever pained him as much as losing her. Or no, not even that, he hadn't lost her, he was forced to let her go, for Chloe's safety (though their daughter obviously did not know that). It had been a decade since he'd seen his beloved for the last time (the real her and not the sedated shadow), there were times, when his heart ached, his soul cried, and Gabe wondered if he'd ever get to see her again, get to hold her... In the past whenever such thoughts slipped into his head he would remind himself miracles were possible, and one day they might get theirs. In that moment, he looked at his daughter, at her boyfriend (he wouldn't think what they might have been doing sleeping in the same room, the same bed...), at all the people that surrounded her... maybe the miracle was closer than he ever imagined...

"Will you hold me now? Hold me now, My frozen heart
Kiss my lips and maybe you
Can take me to your world for now
I can't be alone right now"

"Will you hold me now? Hold me now, My frozen heart
Please make it all go away
Am I ever gonna feel myself again?
I hope I will"

"She's calling to someone." Chloe said with sudden conviction, calling everyone's attention.

"What...?" For a moment no one understood what she meant.

"Just listen to her, to her words." Chloe explained, trying to keep her voice low enough so as not to interrupt Rosalie. "She's calling to someone."

They could all hear it, the words, the pleas, it only made the pain and grief feel deeper. And yet, only Lex knew enough to understand that she wasn't calling to just anyone, but to a very specific someone: Peter Maximoff, her soulmate... Even as he heard her explanation Lex hadn't believed her. Even if Rosalie was the kind to love a man beyond his death, soulmates were nothing more than children's tales... lies... And then he'd met Patricia. It was amazing because while he couldn't remember her from their shared childhood, they had spent an amazing weekend together, the summer before they went to college. They'd done a lot of crazy stuff together: like getting drunk (really drunk) for the first time ever, gone skinny dipping... and they'd been each other's firsts. Then they had to go to college and Lex convinced himself that the weekend had meant nothing (better than admitting that he'd fallen in love with a girl he was unlikely to ever see again... of course, the world seemed to be fickle like that).

Lex still wasn't sure if he believed in soulmates, not the way Rosalie described them at least, an absolute, everlasting love that left no room for doubts, or pain, or darkness... he was willing to concede that he loved Patricia, and he wasn't letting her go, not as long as he lived.

"No." Clark's sudden words pulled everyone's attention next.

"What...?" Chloe was the one most confused then.

"I don't think she's calling for anyone." Clark explained quietly, sadly. "Or at least, not anymore."

"You mean..." Trish began, but didn't dare finish.

"Whoever she's thinking about, she loved him, but she's not looking for him anymore." Clark elaborated. "She's given up. She's letting him go."

Lex studied Rosalie's figure as the song went on, considering in the light of what Clark had just said. It sounded right, somehow, at least to a point. He too got that impression, that she was singing to someone and yet expected to response. Except it didn't sound like surrender, not quite.

"Will you hold me now? Hold me now, My frozen heart
I'm gazing from the distance and
I feel everything pass through me
I can't be alone right now"

"Will you hold me now? Hold me now, My frozen heart
I'm lost in a deep winter sleep
I can't seem to find my way out alone
Can you wake me?"

No, it wasn't surrender. She wasn't giving up, not on Peter, and certainly not on her belief in soulmates. However, she knew she couldn't spend the rest of her life in limbo. She had to live, she deserved to... it was what her beloved would have wanted for her.

Also, they were all aware that Rosalie was much older than she looked. Who knew? Perhaps one day she would find her soulmate again? Or he would find her... It was the same.

In that moment Lex truly hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that she was right. That soulmates, existed, that they were forever, and that one day she'd get to be with his. If anyone deserved it, Rosalie certainly did. And perhaps he... all of them, did too.

Chapter Text

Rose Bud

A day comes for all things to bloom again: life, joy, hope, love...

Things changed after the second meteor shower, some ways were obvious, others not so much. It was, almost as if a switch had been flipped, or not quite. Perhaps more like a flower blooming again after a very long winter (one that had lasted more than a decade...). I took to humming often, sometimes even singing, and I played the piano a lot, Lex's obviously (mine was back at the ranch, in New Mexico).

Some evenings we'd all have dinner together in the mansion, and then Lex and I'd play something together on his piano. Most of the time things we made up in the spot. The song I sang the most, however, was the lullaby, to Sarah, every time I got her in my arms.

"Just what are you singing exactly?" Clark finally asked me one day.

"It's a lullaby." I answered simply as I kept rocking the sleeping toddler, it'd be her birthday soon.

"Well duh." Chloe deadpanned. "I think that the real question is what you're saying exactly, I don't recognize the language."

"It's Yiddish." I explained. "The language of the Jews..."

"You speak Yiddish?" The two teenagers asked in unison.

"I speak many languages." I admitted. "Granted, not as many as my mom, but still. And yes, Yiddish is one of them, I learned it for my second father, it's the language of his heart."

"Second father?" Clark was curious about that.

"The name Eisenhardt, it was his." I explained, then took a deep breath and elaborated. "My gifts first manifested when I was five, I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming blue murder, after having seen a girl my same age die in a fire. I had never seen her before, had no idea who she was, where she lived, nothing except two things: she was meant to be my sister, and if I didn't do something she was going to die..."

"Oh..." That left everyone shocked (I hadn't even noticed when the rest of our little 'family' joined us, but that was alright).

"I lead my parents on an eighteen-or-so hour roadtrip, from the cabin where we were spending a few days in Istanbul, for our summer break, all the way to some unknown town in South Ukraine, the kind of place that doesn't even appear on any maps." I shook my head at the memory. "I've never told you how I discovered my gifts, have I? I mean, we knew there was a big chance I'd have some, seeing how my parents do as well. Papa controls ice and Mama is an empath, and can sometimes heal..." I ignored the growing shock as I went on. "Aside from discovering my visions by waking up from that particular one, I discovered my power over fire when I ran straight into a burning building and the flames did nothing to me..."

"You..." Lex was, quite evidently, beyond shocked.

"You ran into a burning building?!" Johnathan would have probably yelled if Martha hadn't signaled for him to remember the sleeping infant in my arms. "At five years old?!"

"Yeah..." I shrugged sheepishly. "To be perfectly honest I didn't realize how crazy it was at the time, not until much later in fact. All I knew right then was that I had to save Willow. I got there just in time. The moment I touched her, the flames stopped hurting her. She still ended with some burns on her face, neck and arm though..."

"But you... you saved her life." Patricia was truly marveled by the thing. "You saved that little girl's life, when you were just a child."

"I had to." I shrugged again, not quite sure how to make them understand. "She was family, even before we met."

"Okay..." Chloe nodded, though it was obvious she was still trying to deal with it all. "What does any of that have to do with a Yiddish lullaby?"

"After I got Willow out of that house, my parents got us elsewhere, so we could recover." I went on with the story. "We couldn't find her family. Had no idea what had happened to them, if they were even alive. So Will became a part of my family, she became my sister." I smiled at the memory. "Almost nineteen years later I found her father... or he found me... It's complicated. I was trying to help him and another friend, and by some sort of bizarre accident I got to see some of their memories; one of them was the memory of Willow in that burning building, though seen from the outside."

"So he was there!" Clark barely stopped himself from shouting then. "Why didn't he save her?"

"He couldn't." I really didn't want to go into what had happened exactly. "Max spent almost two decades believing that his daughter had died, that he was a failure as a father... and then we met. I told him the truth and he... If you knew the kind of man he'd become by then, he was a mess, a Nazi Hunter, cold and calculating, yet the moment he saw his daughter again... I'm not going to say it undid everything, but it helped him heal." I smiled. "He's with the X-Men, and when Will and I joined to help them, they wanted to be a family... and we knew it'd be dangerous, if we kept our original names, as our enemies might go after our parents, our brother. So we both changed our names, we became Eisenhardt, like Max. Doesn't mean Mama and Papa weren't family anymore, the family just got bigger." I chuckled. "Which keeps happening the more time that passes, really. I love that..."

I really did. I had Mama, Papa, Hakon, Helena (even if we'd never met), Anya, Johann (no matter if they were on the Other Side), Django, Nina, Charles, Max, Raven, Irene, Kurt, Skye, Martha, Johnathan, Clark, Chloe, Lex, Patricia, Bruce... It was amazing.

"Max is Jewish." I remembered what had started the conversation. "While he doesn't speak Yiddish most of the time, it's still the language his mother taught him..."

"The language of his heart..." Chloe finished for me, quietly.

"Exactly." I nodded. "That particular lullaby... it's the same he sang to Willow, the same his mother sang to him..."

No one had anything to say to that, they all understood how meaningful it all was. I could hardly believe I'd just told them all that; after years of working so hard at keeping my lives as Rosalie Nova (or Kane) and Alfdis Eisenhardt separated... the lines had blurred at some point, and if I was honest with myself, I didn't really mind. It felt... right. I was still the same person, the one who'd ran into a burning building for her future sister, the one who dropped everything to try and help two men who were meant to change the world, the one who fell in love with a boy through her dreams, the one who gave up the only chance to be with that boy to save his sister's life, the one who grieved him so much she felt like her life had ended; the one who finally, found the strength to move on.

I'd never forget Peter, such a thing was impossible. There was also a part of me, small as it might be, that dreamt of one day finding him again, somehow... just like Papa found Mama. Even if it took years, even if it took lifetimes, it's not like I didn't have the time... Meanwhile I wouldn't stop living though, I would do my best, I'd fight, I'd protect; wherever Peter might be I'd try to make him proud, the same as the rest of the family.

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

Batman practically stalked out of the interrogation room, having just learned where Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes were being kept. Separate places, each minutes from blowing up, and he'd been told to choose. The newly promoted Commissioner Gordon was about to speak, when there was a sudden rush of air and two people seemed to almost materialize out of thin air: the first was a tall, muscled, seemingly young man in jeans, boots, a dark red leather jacket that when zipped together made out a symbol Gordon couldn't quite make out; an equally dark-red cowl covered most of his head. In his arms was a young woman in an off-white tunic-style, long-sleeved, off-white shirt with a wide dark-red belt around her waist, pale-green-leggings and red high boots on her feet, a long scarlet scarf was wound around her head, covering her hair and all of her face but her eyes (it reminded Gordon of Middle-Eastern women, actually).

"Who are you?!" He exclaimed, shocked by their sudden appearance. "How did you get in here?"

"We're here to help." The girl said in a falsetto.

It took Gordon a second or two to realize she wasn't talking to him, but to Batman.

"What did you see?" He asked her.

"Fire." She answered promptly. "Two places are going to burn, and at least one person is going to die. There's little time."

"Then we need to get moving." He'll stated, moving past them. "Do you know where to go?"

"I heard what he said." The man in red offered.

"Take Kal with you." I told Batman. "He'll get you where you need to go faster."

"And you Rose?" Batman asked, curious.

"I'll be taking your bike of course." She replied easily.

To Gordon's surprise, Batman didn't complain. The girl stepped out of the boy's arms, and then the two men were gone. The Commissioner turned towards the one they'd called Rose.

"Do you know where to go, ma'am?" He asked her.

"I do." She nodded, spinning around and going for the bike. "Call me Rose."

"My men and I will be following you... Rose." Gordon finally said.

She wasn't sure they'd be able to keep up, she knew how fast Batman's bike could go (hence why she was taking it); but that was unimportant. She knew she needed to make it. She also imagined that most policemen didn't expect her to push the bike as fast as it could go, wouldn't expect her to be able to control it; she'd show them. She climbed on, and then she was off.

Kal and Batman reached their location in a matter of seconds. It took a moment for the Dark Knight to recover his balance, he'd never traveled that fast; but the thought of what the Joker had done as enough to push him forward.

"This place is full of oil barrels, and they're all rigged to blow in less than thirty seconds." Kal announced after doing a swipe with his x-ray vision.

"We must hurry." Batman told him.

He still wasn't expecting it when, upon opening the door, they found Harvey Dent inside, instead of Rachel Dawes...

"NO!" Harvey practically screamed. "Not me... Why did you come for me?! Rachel?!"

Dent kept calling to his fiancee, even as Batman and Kal pulled him to his feet and out of the warehouse. There was no time to even try and disable the bomb. Meanwhile Batman activated his comm, a channel that would connect with a similar device on the bike.

"Rose!" He yelled, trying to be heard over Dent's screams. "Rachel is on your end! You need to get her out Rose! Get her out now!"

There was no response, and they'd no way of knowing if that was good or bad. Then the bombs went off. The yelling continued, and there was no response. Not until Batman turned to Kal:

"Get us there!" He yelled at the younger man.

Kal didn't even question him, he just held both men tightly and went into super-speed instantly. They were at the second location in a matter of seconds. Dent stumbled to a side, his stomach rebelling against him after the speed; but Batman controlled himself and stalked in the direction of the burning building. The police were all around it, looking at the third floor in a mix of shock and horror. Gordon was outside as well... Batman began fearing the worst... The second and third floors had been completely destroyed, and no one was even moving towards the building, calling out, nothing... and then he heard the coughing.

"We're here!" The words were low, but still heard.

Everyone moved instantly.

There was what looked like a slab of concrete, and some other pieces, surrounding two figures. The one on top was clearly Rose, though her clothes were mostly burnt, hardly anything left. Rachel was beneath her, looking dazed, but nothing worse than that... then the groan came.

"Oh stars..." It was Rose.

"Rose!" Batman yelled, being the first to approach them.

"Please, don't yell." Rose moaned as she moved off Rachel, slowly. "My ears are ringing." She pushed herself to her feet, only to sway slightly. "Oh... I think my balance is a bit off..."

"Are you alright?" Batman asked her, worriedly.

"Fine, just fine." She drawled, not quite convincingly. "Just hate explosions."

She made motions to dust herself, and ended pushing away the remains of most of her clothes. Batman was about to point it out, until he noticed she was wearing other clothes underneath: a skin-tight sleeveless gray top with red accents, gray leggings, all made of a material that looked like leather yet wasn't; and her boots, which appeared to have survived her ordeal. Also, once she pulled the remains of her scarf off her head he saw that her eyes were shining like the tiger-eye stone, and her long hair was falling down her back in scarlet waves.

"Miss... Rose?" Gordon called, shocked.

"Yeah." Rose took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she forced herself to focus.

"How did you survive that?" Another of the policemen asked, looking awed.

"Fire... is sort of my thing." Rose answered vaguely, the turned to Batman. "By the time I got to the right room it as almost too late. I knew there was no way R... Ms. Dawes and I were getting out in time, so I focused on making sure she didn't burn... my clothes ended paying the price, but it's not like I wasn't prepared." She signaled to her other clothes. "It's not the first time I lose my clothes in an explosion..."

No one dared ask.

"And the fall?" Gordon asked, still not quite believing it.

"We were extremely lucky." Rose deadpanned.

It was all she said and yet, when Rachel approached the young woman to thank her, and in the process slipped a delicate metal bracelet off her wrist and onto that of her savior... a bracelet Batman remembered that Rose always wore. He knew there was something important about it, something that wasn't being said.

He was distracted enough by the whole thing he didn't notice when Rachel walked right past him, and straight to Harvey Dent's arms. Didn't move at all until he heard the next words to come from her lips, the last he ever expected to hear:

"I love you..." She was saying those words, not to him, not to Bruce, but to Harvey, and then: "I meant what I said. I will be delighted to marry you."

Harvey embraced her tightly then, as the policemen behind them celebrated the coming wedding. No one really noticed the piercing look Rachel directed at Batman, the near-apology in her eyes. He didn't say a word, instead turning towards Kal and Rose.

"What now?" Kal asked, unsure.

"Now we go hunt down a clown." Rose stated, an almost wicked smirk on her lips.

They did, they hunted down the Joker. It took them longer than they'd planned. But they managed it. And in the way Gotham taught even the Batman a lesson (or a few): that not everyone in the city was evil, that not everyone was a lost cause, that sometimes even the most unexpected of people could be heroes; that everyone, even those some may seem as the scum of humanity, or mere civilians, can make the right choice, can stand in the light, can do the right thing...

xXx Rose's POV xXx

Rachel Dawes married Harvey Dent on August 30, 2005. Her childhood best-friend, Bruce Wayne, was the one to give her away. He also paid for the two-week long honeymoon in Europe for both of them. Lex, Trish and I were guests at the wedding and no one, not even Commissioner Gordon, recognized me as the 'Rose' who'd helped saved the new Ms. Dent's life just a few days before. Then again, I was wearing very different clothes, my eyes were their normal brown, and I'd dyed my hair black again. While I wasn't exactly against people knowing the truth about me (I'd told Edge the truth, the whole of Smallville knew about my powers, and I hadn't been exactly secretive while I was an X-Woman), I knew that, at least for the time being, anonymity was best.

The wedding was reaching its end when I found Bruce sitting in the library, a glass of scotch in hand, and the bottle on the low table before him. I didn't need my Sight to know he'd been drinking for a while.

"If Alfred sent you..." He needed not gifts to know it was me.

"No one sent me." I stated evenly as I went to sit across from him. "No one needed to send me. I'm your cousin Bruce..."

"Actually, you're not." He replied blankly.

"But I am." I retorted. "You went through all the legal trouble of making me Rosalie Kane. What? Did you think that I'd only use the name when it was convenient to me and ignore it the rest of the time? That's not how it works Bruce. That's not how family works."

He didn't respond to that, but I could tell he was resisting it.

"Why don't you say what you want to say and then go so I can go back to drinking in peace?" He almost spat after a while.

"I could tell you that drowning your problems won't make them go away..." I murmured softly. "But you already know that, so I don't see the point."

"And the point is?" He pressed.

"I could tell you that Rachel made her choice, and you have to let her go, but you already did that." I went on, ignoring his standoffishness. "Could tell you that if she cannot deal with your choices, both personal and... professional, then she's not the right person for you; though I suspect at least Alfred already tried that. Could tell you that she's not your soulmate, she never was, and I think deep down you know that..."

"Apparently you could tell me a lot of things!" He interrupted, slamming the glass hard enough against the table to crack it. "What's the point of your speech?!"

"The point is to let you know that I'm here." I told him softly. "Whenever you're ready to talk, and even if you're not. I'm here and I'm not leaving. Because we're family, Bruce. Perhaps not by blood, perhaps this wasn't what you had in mind when you arranged this identity for me. But it's done, I'm your cousin, and that will never change, ever. I will always be here for you..."

He didn't say a word yet I could see him relax, not much, just the slightest bit, but it was enough. He got off his chair, threw the cracked glass into the trash, picked another, some ice; and after considering it for a second fixed a second glass with ice and placed it before me, a bottle of water beside it (he knew I didn't really like scotch).

We sat there for the rest of the night, saying not a word and only drinking from our respective glasses. I knew that Bruce would talk to me, when he was ready, until then I was willing to wait. I wasn't going to leave him, no matter what.

xXx

A lot changed that summer, following the second meteor shower in Metropolis; and it wasn't just that Kal and I ended diving head first into Gotham and Batman's mess with the Joker, Rachel Dawes's near death, and everything else. Jor-El had begun imparting his lessons to the family (the only ones Clark trusted with his secret for the time being). Chloe and Clark got scholarships to study journalism in Met U, Lex and Trish allied their respective companies and began working on collecting and destroying the Kryptonite (all but a few pieces of each color, which were kept in high-tech safes in case of an emergency... at Clark's insistence. Everyone needed to be ready in case Zod's apprentices managed to return, or some other rogue, or if Kal himself did something).

An event none of us would ever forget was when, while working on reinforcing the Dam (which had sustained some damage during the shower), the workers found another space-ship... a pod, which had apparently been buried in the mud for more than a decade and a half... Thankfully the workers were people from Smallville, who took the situation straight to us, rather than the media. We were all there when it was opened, and received Kara Zor-El, Kal's cousin.

It was a bit of touch and go at first there, as the girl had been more-or-less brainwashed into forgetting her father was a criminal; one who, even after death, tried to use her to extract revenge on Kal. Thankfully we were all there to stop that plot in its tracks on time, and to help Kara go back to herself. When the mess was over she decided to stay; she knew a lot about Krypton that she wanted to teach us, while we taught her about Earth. And so Karen Kent, came to be.

It was almost funny, because the whole of Smallville knew the truth (it was also how they found out about Kal not being a metahuman...), but whenever someone from elsewhere came, she was Karen, Clark's cousin, who'd been looking for him for years, as they were each other's last blood family. She came to love Martha, Johnathan, and spoiled little Sarah as much as the rest of us did. It was good to be family...

Then the end of the Summer came, Clark and Chloe went to college, Karen 'finished' high-school, Lex and Trish continued working to make Smallville better; Johnathan surprised us all when he ran for Senator (not when he won, once he'd decided to go for it none of us had any doubts that he would, he was the right kind of man for the job).

Perhaps the most heart-felt moment was when Gabe came clean to Chloe about what had truly happened to her mother all those years before. As it turned out, Jor-El greatly respected Chloe, for all she'd done and kept doing to help Clark, he helped her, Lex and I get a solution. It was a two part work: first a drug that helped pull Moira Sullivan out of the catatonia she'd been in for years, and then... mutations caused by kryptonite couldn't be undone, we knew that already. But we did manage to create something that would seal abilities, keep them to the person who had them, much like Alicia's lead bracelet (which she no longer used, of course). We made an anklet (so it wouldn't be as obvious), and then it was done; Moira was safe, and so was everyone else.

Lois came back into the picture about then, wanting to know what had happened exactly. She ended sticking around and somehow (not quite sure how or why exactly) she became Johnathan's Chief of Staff as he campaigned for Senator. It was a good campaign, clean as could only be expected of Johnathan Kent, with the full backing of Smallville, as well as Lex Luthor and Patricia Swann (each which surprised different people). He won by a landslide.

We had a few interesting meetings, between a Metropolis detective who happened to also be an 'intergalactic traveler', except from Mars, and apparently had known Jor-El in the past; a blonde rich boy who took an unexpected interest in Lois, and whom Trish and Lex both knew, and Lex couldn't stand; and of course, the newest metahumans, not all of which were happy to join the 'Smallville club'.

The hardest part was when we discovered Lionel Luthor's last project, buried so deep in Cadmus Labs we had no idea it was there until it practically blew up in all our faces (not quite literally, but still, it was bad). Cloning. To be more precise, cloning of Lex. The worst part was that the only reason we even found out about it was when one of the clones escaped and went after Clark, put him up in a cross, with a piece of green kryptonite around his neck, in a sick reverse of what had happened the first time Lex saved Clark (when he pulled Clark off the cross where Whitney and the other jocks left him his freshman year).

Thankfully, Lex had gotten there in time to fight his own clone. I got there too late to do much, except touch the dead body, allowing my Sight to show me where it'd come from (one of the few times I managed to almost command it). Lex and Trish had made sure to take down the Lab, top to bottom, leaving nothing. Except... we'd come across an unexpected situation.

It turned out that most of the clones died on their own, they were simply too unstable to survive. We also learnt that others had escaped before, yet most had turned up dead sooner or later; which was why the people in Cadmus never bothered looking for them. However, the complication was one clone, aged to look about nine or so, the same age as Lex when he the first meteor shower happened. He wasn't just Lex's clone. He was also Clark's.

Blood had been collected at the place of several fights Clark had had against insane metas, some that had managed to make him bleed; and while Lionel and Cadmus as a whole had never managed to track down the owner of the blood, there had still been enough to tell them it had special properties. The scientists had believed it'd help balance the clone.

I knew it wouldn't be enough, knew yet had no idea how to tell them, not to explain to everyone the intricacies of a soul. It was what truly differentiated us all, gifted and baseline alike, even those who might be referred to as gods, from the real Higher Power, the real God... we couldn't create life out of nothing. Even when there was a pregnancy, a birth, the body might create another body, but it was God that gave it a soul. The clones... humans might be able to create a body, but they still couldn't create a soul, that was a power no mortal (no matter how long lived) would ever wield. And then I dreamt, a dream that I could have never expected:

The first thing I noticed, oddly enough, was what I was wearing: a long-sleeved, floor-length off-white dress that seemed to be almost translucent, except for the elaborate embroidery of small blossoms that covered most of it; there was a dark red sash around my waist, and a crown of roses over my head, my hair its natural auburn cascading over my shoulders, and my feet were bare. The floor beneath me was stone, and it was cold, especially noticeable since my skin was naturally warmer than a human's, but I tried not to focus on that.

"Welcome muinthel (sister)..."

I recognized the use of the elven language even before I truly looked at the person standing suddenly in front of me. The woman was taller than me, at least by several inches, with jade eyes I found all-too-familiar and long curls of raven black hair to her waist, she was wearing a royal blue dress in layers, and there was heavy scarring on one half of her body... It was the scars that gave her away (and the use of the elven word for sister, once I fully registered that)...

"Muinthel..." I repeated in realization. "You're Helena..."

"And you're Rose Alfdis." She inclined her head in my direction.

"How...?" I couldn't even think of the right question to ask.

"I've known something was going on for many years." She told me calmly. "Two of Ada existing at the same time was a dead giveaway... even if no one among the living noticed. Not even the Allfather." She shook her head. "It's probably an advantage of existing in a world of the spirits, and one connected to the rest of the Realms."

"Or of being the daughter of the greatest sorcerer in the universe." I quipped. "And a spell-weaver yourself, of course."

"It might be that, yes." She agreed with a mischievous smile. "It is good to meet you little sister."

"I'm delighted to meet you as well, big sister." And I really was, I'd wanted to know her for so long, my whole life even. "I never imagined a meeting like this would be possible."

"It is." Helena nodded. "Though this is a talent I rarely make use of. It requires a lot of power to communicate across realms, and it's harder when only one of the people talking has magic. In our case at least, our bond as sisters helps."

"If it's that hard, I imagine this wasn't done just on a whim." I realized.

"No, it's not." She agreed. "I wished to meet you, make no mistake. But I could have waited until the overlap ended and we could all be in the same time, physically..."

"This has something to do with the child." The realization came at the same time the words did.

"It does." She nodded. "You know what he is."

"A soulless..." I nodded grimly.

"Exactly." She nodded. "You must know that, most of the time I'd not intervene. It's not my place. Soulless are not meant to exist, it's why they're so self-destructive, they are an affront to the natural balance of the universe, and they know it. There are very rare exceptions, that manage to survive, but eventually things go wrong... it's never good."

"So the child will die..." I let out a sigh.

"Usually I do not intervene." Helena insisted. "But this time... this time someone's made a plea."

"Someone...?" I wasn't expecting that.

"I'm not the kind to grant everyone favors but... he touched my heart in a way few people have." My sister admitted very softly. "So I decided to give in, to allow the miracle, this time..."

"So what?" I couldn't wrap my head around the implications of what she was saying. "He won't be a soulless anymore."

"No, he won't." Helena actually smiled at me. "Should make things interesting."

"May I know to whom I... we all owe this miracle." I asked, interested. "The others will want to know who to thank."

Helena shook her head but still leaned close to me, whispering words straight into my ear. Words that brought tears to my eyes.

I was still crying when I woke up. I sat up slowly, noticing that someone had placed me on a sofa. On the other side of the room the little boy lay on the bed, Cyrus trying his best to help him, while Chloe rested in Clark's arms beside him. Everyone else observing, no one knew what to do, and I could only watch the scene in wonder... because I could see as the void that had been the boy's presence in the universe suddenly filled with color, a soul...

"Rosalie...?" Lex's voice pulled me out of my musings.

In a second he was kneeling in front of me, a hand on my cheek, brushing away my tears.

"Are you alright?" He asked, very worried.

I wanted to say yes, but just couldn't find the right words for it; and when they finally came, they weren't in answer to what he'd asked, but instead connected to the last thing Helena had told me...

"Julian says hi, and that he loves you." I told him.

Lex dropped to the floor in a heap instantly. The shock too great for him.

"Julian...?" He asked, tears beginning to fall down his own eyes. "My little brother...? Julian...? You... but how...?"

I didn't answer. Truth was, I had no answer to his questions. Still, I knew that he believed me, against all odds he did, and that was enough.

The next day the boy had a new identity as Conner Kent, the newest addition to a growing family, he was also Lex's and Trish's godson (and, as we would discover in time, he had most of Kara's and Clark's gifts...). He truly was a blessing.

xXx

In mid March of 2007 Lex married for the third (and hopefully last) time. He and Trish took the name Swann-Luthor, and their wedding brought more than just a legal union, their companies merged fully; and while for a while the tabloids kept making all kind of stories about the 'true reason' behind their marriage, it was just matter of time before they proved them wrong. Before they showed how much they loved each other. Lex Luthor wasn't the man (or boy) the world had known before his 'exile' to Smallville in 2001, he was the man the small-town had known, the one who'd put his personal fortune on the line to save a small plant, and the jobs of more than half the inhabitants of Smallville, who'd offered himself as a hostage in exchange of a high-school class, who'd gone against his father, a mob boss, and many others who'd tried to kill him time and a again. He was a great man; but more importantly, he was a good man.

Of course, not everyone could see that. One particular evening months later, Chloe, Clark, Alicia, Cyrus and I were taking a break in Chloe and Clark's apartment in Luthor Tower in Metropolis. It was the weekend, but we'd been working all day. Clark and Alicia, along with a few other gifted, getting people out of a facility that had been blown-up earlier, while Chloe, Cyrus and I (even if I had no healing powers) worked on healing them. The worst had finally ended an hour before, Emil Hamilton was left to deal with those en-route to the hospital, while everyone else had gone home. We were still waiting for Lex and Trish to get back.

"This cannot be a coincidence anymore." Cyrus stated what we all were probably thinking.

"No, it cannot." Alicia agreed. "This is what? The third time on the last month alone?"

"Fourth." Chloe corrected her. "And that's just here. Other LexCorp facilities all over the world have been hit too."

"Looks like someone has it in for our favorite bald billionaire." Cyrus quipped.

"It would seem so." Alicia agreed. "But who?"

"We're on that." I told them. "Thus far all the attacks have been too well coordinated. Whoever is doing it is more than one person, has resources, training, and a hell of a motivation... but we have not been able to track them down yet."

"Not even with our friend over in Gotham helping." Chloe admitted.

"He said he found something." I reminded her. "Was supposed to get in touch with us today..."

"By the way." Clark murmured. "Shouldn't Lex and Trish be here already?"

"You're right." I agreed, pulling out my mobile and making a call. "Lex's phone is going straight to voicemail..." I tried another. "So is Trish's..."

"I have a bad feeling..." Chloe murmured, pulling a laptop from her bag, she began doing her best to track them.

"Charity..." I finally dialed another number. "When did you last hear from Lex and Trish?"

The answer was enough to make me curse, which called everyone's attention instantly, as I rarely did that. They knew it couldn't be good.

"According to Charity, Lex got a call from our 'detective' friend in Gotham earlier today." I began explaining as I hung up. "Following that he and Trish decided to go to the Ridge Facility. That was two hours ago, no one's heard from them since."

"Did they take Mercy and Hope?" Clark asked, confused.

I knew what made him wonder. Mercy and Hope were Lex's and Trish's respective bodyguards, they were scarily efficient, smart and skilled. If they were with our friends and they'd still gone missing something had to be very, very wrong.

"Yes." I nodded.

"Wait a second." Cyrus called. "The Ridge Facility isn't where the meteors..."

"Where they're being taken to be destroyed, yes." Chloe nodded, grimly. "If a bunch of vigilantes get their hands on them... or on LexCorp's research on them... it won't be good."

"You think the people behind them missing are the same behind the attacks to the facilities." Alicia said in understanding.

"It makes sense." Clark agreed.

"If so Lex and Trish and in danger." I reminded them. "We need to get there. And we need to get there fast."

"I can get us there." Clark announced, getting on his feet. "Alicia, you and Cyrus get back to Smallville. Tell Kara what's happened and have a team ready. If we haven't reported in two hours... do what you have to."

Which actually meant taking down the facility; because if the three of us weren't enough to keep the vigilantes from getting their hands on all that kryptonite, and probably hurting Lex and Trish; then no one else would be able to do anything. Even Kara, who had the same abilities as Clark, she simply didn't have his experience.

We got changed as fast as we could. Clark was left wearing the same ensemble he'd worn in Gotham, while Chloe and I were in full bodysuits Lex's team had created (with some Kryptonian input), made of the most resistant cloth possible, yet light, the base was gray, though it changed slightly according to our surroundings, there were differences though: mine was sleeveless, had red accents and red high boots; while Chloe's was long-sleeved with blue accents and blue low-boots. Chloe wore a cowl, much like Clark's, only in blue; while I ran a flaming hand through my hair to burn out the dye and reveal the red (I'd have to dye it again when we got back) and put on dark glasses. Finally I put a burnt-red wrap dress on over my body-suit to conceal it, just in case.

We made it to the Ridge facility in a matter of seconds, and immediately began looking for Lex and Trish (and Mercy and Hope). Chloe pressed two fingers to the first security station we came across, and in instants she had a better understanding of what was going on. It was something Jor-El had offered and he'd accepted, to 'change' her, just enough so she could almost interact with technology. It'd have been extremely dangerous for a normal human, but her healing factor allowed her to adapt to it, and to process the information, no matter how much it might be.

"Someone's gotten into our security." Chloe announced. "And I mean that quite literally. They disabled it all so easily I'm almost offended." She shook her head. "Mercy and Hope are in the security station north of here; Lex and Trish are in the main office, and they aren't alone."

"I wonder how the vigilantes managed to split them up..." Clark muttered. "It cannot be good."

"No, it cannot." Chloe agreed. "We need to hurry."

Clark ran us down the hall and straight to where Mercy and Hope were being kept, where I released them in second thanks to one of my daggers (I was the only one who actually carried weapons... then again, Clark didn't need them, and Chloe didn't like them).

"We need to get to Mr. and Mrs. Luthor..." Mercy began, sharply.

"What you need to do is go and make sure that everyone else gets out of this facility, in case things get ugly." I interrupted them (something very few people dared do. "We'll get Lex and Trish out. We promise."

Chloe and Clark just nodded in agreement.

It was proof of how much those two trusted us, and how well they knew us (they knew all about us except Clark's status as an 'intergalactic traveler' and my true origins... then again, no one at all knew that last one).

"So..." Chloe whispered very softly when we got to the door. "How are we going to play this?"

"How about the dramatic entrance for me, and the silent back-up for you?" I proposed.

They knew what I meant, and they knew better than to worry about me. So, after a nod, Clark and Chloe made sure to stand where they wouldn't be noticed as I took a deep breath and pushed the double doors opened abruptly, striding inside the room as dramatically as I could.

"Lex, Trish!" I called, as if I had no idea what was on the other side. "Are you here? I've been looking for you everywhere. We were supposed to go to dinner and..."

I broke off as I reached the middle of the room. There I could see Trish was standing in a corner of the room, flanked by a woman in tight black leather and a small mask, blonde hair; and a blonde man in dark pants and an orange sleeveless muscle-shirt with green accents. He seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't lay my finger on it.

Lex was standing on the other side, slightly bent, in front of his computer, a man in green leather, with high-tech crossbow in hand, pointing straight at Lex, was beside him. Aside from them there were two other people in the room, whom I recognized instantly: Victor Stone and Bart Allen (though I knew they wouldn't know me, they had only really known Clark and Chloe).

"What is going on here?" I asked, playing the clueless card.

"Rosalie..." Lex murmured very softly. "Why did you come?"

"Who are you?" The man in green demanded, pointing his crossbow at me.

"Leave her out of this!" Lex snapped. "She has nothing to do with it!"

"She's here, she's involved." The man in green, with an obvious voice modifier, responded. "I asked, who are you?"

"A friend." I answered simply.

"Luthors don't have any friends." The man stated coldly.

I rolled my eyes, what did he know?

"You should turn around and walk away now, lady." The man in orange told me.

"And leave my friends here?" I replied, shaking my head. "Five against two isn't fair odds. And I don't know what right you all think you have to hold Lex and Trish captive, at gunpoint... but I won't stand for it."

"What do you think you'll be able to do?" The woman in black snorted.

"You don't know me, you have no idea what I'm capable of." I replied, shifting my stance, getting ready to act.

"You claim to be here to help your friends." The man in green leather stated darkly. "But do you know what your friends do every day? All the illegal dealings they do, the experiments. They keep getting people out of Belle Reeve, and even jail, people who then disappear... do you know what happens to them...?"

I couldn't help myself, I really couldn't, I burst out laughing.

"Are you insane?!" One of them yelled at me, I didn't pay attention who.

It all happened in an instant. There was a loud whoosh of air and less than a handful of seconds later Lex and Trish were standing behind me, Clark beside me, and Chloe with them.

"Got tired of waiting?" I asked them evenly.

"We thought that if they were that nuts, it was better to act sooner rather than later." Chloe replied in a tone that showed she was quite serious.

"We're not nuts!" Bart exclaimed, offended.

"Considering that you're blaming Lex and Trish of ludicrous things, I would say you are." Clark pointed out, a hint of steel in his voice.

"Going back to the question you asked." I told the man in green. "I do know where they are. They are home, making new lives for themselves. They were never supposed to be incarcerated; most of them were never sick in the first place; people sent them to Belle Reeve, or other places, simply because they were different. We saved them."

"We...?" Cyborg asked. "You are...?"

"It's good to see you again, Victor." Clark called, though without lowering his cowl. "I hope you'll understand why we'd rather some people not know who we are..."

"Stretch!" Bart called loudly, finally recognizing him. "But... Why are you helping Cue Ball?"

"Why shouldn't I?" Clark asked in return.

"Because he's evil, and hurting people and he's going to hurt you and kill you one of these days?" Bart replied, as if it had been a serious question.

"I'd never do that!" Lex exclaimed, thoroughly offended. "I am not my father."

"No, you're worse." The man replied. "I won't let you destroy more lives, like your father did..."

He moved so fast even Clark was taken by surprise. In a second several arrows were shot. Clark either caught or destroyed most; but he missed one. I focused on that one, directing my fire to it. Still, it all happened so fast I didn't notice when I called more fire than entirely necessary, burning my dress, leaving me in the body-suit.

"Just who are you people?" The woman in black demanded, noticing our attires.

"You may call me Kal." Clark took charge. "She's Rose, and that's Cyan. And... you could say you're in our territory."

For a moment it looked like Cyan (Chloe) was going to laugh at that; but she managed to stay solemn as she stood her ground.

"So what, you're Metropolis's protectors?" The one in green snorted.

"They are." Victor called in their defense. "Arrow... I know them. Or Kal and Cyan at least. They helped me after the doctor assisted in my escape from that Lab."

"A LuthorCorp lab." The one in green, Arrow, reminded him.

"Why is it that everyone must hold me responsible for what my father did?" Lex asked, mostly rhetorically. "I mean. I got him into jail... well, not only me, but you get the point. Almost got killed for it too. Nevermind the time when I almost went insane with drugs. My wife and I have been trying to fix everything Lionel did, but it's not easy; especially when some scientists keep hiding projects from us. We cannot be everywhere at the same time, we're not psychic!"

I was, and even that wasn't enough.

"You're lying." Arrow hissed. "You're the same as Lionel."

"You have no idea, do you?" I asked, cocking my head to a side. "I mean, you come here, with all your righteous anger. Claiming to want justice. I bet you're the one behind all the labs that have been destroyed over the last three months... Do you have any idea of the losses you've caused, of money, of research..."

"No less than he deserves..." Arrow hissed.

"All the people that could have died." I went on. "Because you never cared about making sure that everyone was out before you blew the places."

"What?!" Even Arrows's teammates didn't seem to know that.

I was about to say something else, but Trish beat me to the punch (verbally at least).

"You stand here, all self-righteous, trying to act like a hero, but you're nothing more than a vigilante, seeking to destroy others to prove your own superiority." She almost growled at him. "I have no idea what you've told your companions to convince them to follow you in this insane venture, but it ends here. You want to know what you've really been destroying?"

Before anyone could say a word Trish walked right past us all and to the computer, where she entered her password, and then things began appearing on the big screen at the back of the office. Nothing too detailed, but enough to show what had been really going on in those labs: research into mutations, which was slowly but surely developing into finding a possible cure for a number of diseases, like various forms of cancer. Research into crops that might have been affected by certain plagues, ways to save them, or make the crops more resistant without poisoning the produce, or the people (or the land)... and that was just the beginning.

"So tell me, great hero..." Trish stated coldly. "Who are you saving exactly?"

No one seemed to have any words to reply to that, especially not Arrow.

I didn't know it then, but the team dissolved after that day. The rest had realized they couldn't trust Arrow to lead them, he'd allowed his personal vendetta against the Luthors (against Lionel really) to guide him into attacking Lex even when he'd nothing on him. Still, it wasn't the last time we saw any of them. Not by a long shot.

For the most part it wasn't so bad. We met Victor, Bart and Arthur sporadically; Bart especially, as he kept hitting on Chloe, though it was mostly good fun, he knew she was happy with Clark. In the end, I was really the only one who knew who the Arrow was, it'd come to me right as he left; but I never said a word about it, it wasn't my secret to tell, and while I wasn't sure how good an idea it might be, seeing how he was dating Lois and I suspected it wouldn't end well. I decided they were both grown ups and quite capable of making their own choices. I was right, though, it didn't work in the long run. Not sure if Lois found out, or she simply grew tired of her boyfriend keeping secrets from her, in the end they split.

xXx

The second time we tangled with the Green Arrow was no better; in fact, in some ways it was worse. It was the beginning of the summer of 2009, we were at the Kent farm to celebrate Clark's and Chloe's college graduation, and their new jobs at the Planet, where Perry White had recently been made Chief Editor, jobs outside of the basement, where they'd been working for over a year already. Also, Trish was pregnant with her and Lex's first child, which was cause for great joy.

Karen had taken over administration of the Talon, and also served as head of the group of metas living in Smallville and Metropolis, who mostly lived normal lives, and yet sometimes wanted either something exciting, or simply to help people. Sarah (almost six years old) and Conner (11) were growing up like normal children (or as much as anyone in Smallville did). Johnathan was doing a great job as a State Senator, and Lex was already trying to convince him and Martha of not letting his political career end there (though he was just halfway through his term).

It was a really nice day, so of course it had to be ruined by someone. It began with clapping, and soon everyone was looking towards the man that had just entered, still in his green leather, dark glasses and crossbow in hand. He also wasn't alone, two women were with him, one was the same blonde in black leather as the previous time (Black Canary, Victor said she called herself), and the other was a young woman in an ensemble one would except of street magicians, all the way to the top-hat.

"Now this is some party." He called dramatically. "I hope you don't mind me crashing it."

"Well, we do." Chloe drawled. "Now why don't you and your little friends go back the way you came? We don't want you here."

"Oh, that's quite alright, I'm not here for you, Chloe Sullivan... or should I be calling you Kent already?" Arrow asked in a sickly sweet voice.

Chloe couldn't help but rub the ring on the third finger of her left hand; Clark had just proposed the day before, it was another of the reasons for our celebration, they were planning on marrying before the end of the Summer.

"No, I'm here to see our Lady Killer." The vigilante finished with a shark-like grin.

The moment the last word left his mouth I let out a slow, long breath. It was as if a part of me had been expecting that already; had ever since It had happened. I didn't flinch, nor tried to hide away from things. Instead I straightened up and walked past the group, to face him.

"What do you want now Green Arrow?" I asked in my best bored tone.

"You won't try to pretend then, lie your way out of this... hide?" He inquired, and I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a challenge, or if he was honestly confused by my actions.

"I have nothing to hide." I answered with a careless shrug.

"Don't you?" He really was challenging then. "You mean to say that all of them, even our dear Senator Kent, knows that you murdered a man in cold blood a month ago?"

I knew he was waiting for me to flinch, to back down, to hesitate, and I refused to give him that. So I stood before him, serene as could be.

"Rosalie...?" Johnathan called, obviously confused.

"Remember what I told Morgan Edge that day, when he tried to hurt you all?" I asked simply.

"You said we were under your protection." Clark spoke up. "That all of Smallville was under your protection, and if he came after us again, you'd kill him..." He closed his eyes briefly. "Edge is dead, and so is Lionel. And I know, we all know you didn't kill either. So who was it?"

"A monster..." I murmured, almost shivering at the memory.

"A little over-dramatic, aren't you?" Arrow asked as he pulled a picture out and threw it at my feet. "Especially considering that your victim was anything but a monster. A paramedic, actually, Davis Bloome. A model citizen... Nothing was left of him, not even ashes."

"What did he do Rosalie?" Martha asked me kindly.

Arrow actually spluttered at that. He obviously had been expecting some reticence, doubt, some disbelief; he hadn't expected that they'd take my side, no hesitation at all.

"He murdered innocent people." I said softly, it hurt to even remember. "He's the serial killer some have been whispering about over the last few months."

"The one behind the murders in Metropolis and Edge City?" Gabe asked, obviously shocked.

"Yes." I nodded. "His last murder was Linda Lake... and he was coming after Chloe..."

"What...?!" Clark was half shocked, half-angered by that, they all were. "Why?"

"I was getting too close, wasn't I?" Chloe guessed. "I'd been putting the clues together. Had realized there were a lot more murders than the police knew, and I'd begun to suspect it had to be someone working with the emergency services... it all fit."

"So what?" Arrow called, provocatively. "You killed a man so he wouldn't go after your meddlesome reporter friend? Where's the justice in that?"

His words made me snap, it was one think to face what I'd done a month before, which went far beyond going after a man for being a serial killer... but we'd get to that point in due time. To actually have the gall to speak to me about justice...

"Really, you want to talk about justice?!" I challenged him. "Tell me, what justice was there in you going after Lex and Trish? In you holding your weapon at Lex's head, while accusing him of murders, destruction, and a whole laundry list of crimes he never committed? Pulling good men and women into your vendetta. Because what you did then, and even what you're doing now, it's not justice, it's just you being vindictive, being a bully, just like you were when you were a teenager! When you tormented children so you could feel better about yourself..."

He definitely gave a step back at that; obviously hadn't been expecting me to know his true identity. I hadn't exactly been planning on revealing I knew, but he just made me so angry...

"Wait!" Lex called. "You know who he is?"

"I've known since that day." I answered honestly. "It was pretty obvious once I thought it over."

"You didn't tell us." One could almost hear the pout in Chloe's voice.

"Wasn't my secret to tell." I pointed out. "Still isn't, really." I turned back to the Green Arrow. "I am not the kind to use such information to my advantage, or anyone else's. I'm not the criminal here, or the vigilante."

"Then what do you call killing a man in cold blood?" He insisted.

"Protecting." I answered honestly. "If it had just been about the people he'd murdered I'd have found proof, taken it to the police, made sure he went to jail. But it wasn't about them, it wasn't about Chloe either." I took a deep breath before finally revealing the truth. "Davis Bloome wasn't human anymore, I suppose he technically never was... he was a monster, masquerading as a man. And even then his bloodlust showed every so often. I have reason to believe his murder spree the last few months might not have been the first time he acted out, though he did keep a lid on it for years, somehow."

"What are you talking about?" Canary demanded, obviously not understanding.

"No..." Clark gasped, suddenly connecting the dots. "You don't mean..."

"Joe was right Clark." I chose to use Jor-El's assumed name, in order to avoid alien names. "The danger was very real. I don't know why he couldn't track him..."

"When did you find out?" Clark asked.

"Five weeks ago." I admitted. "It took me a week to gather enough facts to track him down. Even then I was going to take the matter to the authorities, you know?" I turned to focus on the two women behind Arrow. "Contrary to what your valiant leader would like you to believe, I do not kill because I want to." I let out a breath. "I will not deny my actions. I killed Davis Bloome, and I have killed before; each time it was my choice, I knew exactly what I was doing. I will never forget, and I don't expect anyone to forgive me for it. But every time I did it... I knew what would happen if I didn't act. The people that would die, the lives that would be destroyed... I am no angel, no, but I'm no devil either. I am the kind of person who does what needs to be done, to make sure that those I care for are safe..."

"How would you know what those you killed would have done?" The girl in the magician's attire asked, truly curious.

"Because I 'see' it." I answered honestly. "I have the Sight, have had it since I was five years old. It's my gift, and my curse."

For the longest time no one said a word. I knew Clark, Chloe and Kara, at least were still trying to process the fact that Jor-El had been right, Doomsday had already been on Earth... they also could probably guess what he'd have done, if he hadn't been stopped before fully shedding his human facade. The rest... well, they were either processing the fact that I was quite capable of murder (regardless of how much I might not like it), or the fact that it'd all happened a month before and I hadn't said anything about it.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Lex asked, very softly, going to stand beside me, holding my hand. "Why didn't you let us help?"

"Because you were so happy..." I admitted with a sad smile. "Everything was so perfect right now... I didn't want any of you to have to worry about anything. And I knew I could handle it. I found him on time. Before he became too strong, before he became virtually invincible, before he destroyed Metropolis, and potentially half the world..."

More than half the room gasped, following that. They obviously hadn't expected that things had the potential for being that bad.

"Oh Rosalie..." Martha rushed to embrace me tightly, tears falling on my shirt. "I wish you hadn't had to go through that alone..."

"I'll never regret it Martha." I assured her. "I may hate killing, it leaves a stain on my soul I'll never get rid of. But I'll never regret doing it to protect those I care for, my family..."

"You're family too, dear girl." Martha assured me. "You always will be."

"You know, if you try to take this to the courts, no one will ever believe you." Moira Sullivan commented. "Even if you managed to find some proof the courts would actually believe... the moment it comes out that Bloome was the serial killer all Metropolis has been looking for... well, the best you could hope for would be accidental manslaughter, and even that could be said to have been in defense of her own life."

"And the fire?" Arrow challenged.

"It's Metropolis." Gabe shrugged. "At least one person in ten is a meta around these parts."

"You know, with as many deaths as Bloome had accrued, they might even give Rosalie a medal for getting the guy off the streets." Lex drawled.

That last part at least I knew he was only saying to provoke Arrow; which worked as the vigilante instantly turned his crossbow in Lex's direction and shot. I didn't think about it, just let the fire come and it incinerated the bolt before it got anywhere close.

It didn't stop there, though, I was stressed enough that in a matter of seconds the whole room was shrouded in fire (thankfully, nothing was actually being burnt, I was still in control).

"What the hell?!" Arrow cried out.

Even Canary looked more than a little shocked. However, the reaction that truly surprised me was that of the magician...

"You're the Rose of Chaos?!" She exclaimed, in a tone that sounded almost like... awe?!

"You know her?" Black Canary asked her, confused.

"The whole world knows of her, at least." The girl said, still in the same tone. "The woman who brought down Trask Industries, who pushed the military of many countries to accept their gifted... my whole family might have been persecuted, or worse, if it hadn't been for her... For her speeches that day, in Paris."

"Paris...?" Arrow definitely didn't understand.

"The Paris Peace Accords, in 1973." The magician explained. "She was there."

"That's impossible!" Black Canary shook her head. "She's too young."

"You mean like it's impossible for a human to... I don't know, control fire, ice, teleport, heal, move things with their mind, and however other many gifts have been displayed across the world?" I asked in a drawl. "I'm older than I look."

"Rosalie Nova isn't your name." Arrow said suddenly.

"No." I let out a sigh. "And honestly, I'd have expected you to know that one already. Everyone around here knows, really."

The magician walked past Arrow then, bowing respectfully at me, before offering me her hand.

"I am Zatanna Zatara." She introduced herself. "It is truly an honor to meet you, my lady. My apologies for being a part of this. Green Arrow told us we were here to bring justice to an innocent man who had been murdered... I didn't know the particulars."

"That's alright." I assured her. "I take no offense. It's a pleasure to meet you. And please, call me Rose. Or Rosalie."

Zatanna smiled, and then moved past me to meet everyone else, truly curious.

Black Canary didn't approach us, though she certainly distanced herself from Arrow.

And the vigilante in green leather? He was livid, beyond that even. It all became quite clear to me then. He wasn't there for justice (well, I'd always known he wasn't, but it was until that moment that I realized the true purpose of his visit), it was all about revenge. The way he saw it, I'd humiliated him before, well all of us really, but I'd been the ring-leader, for all intents and purposes. When he found out I'd killed Davis (and I still wasn't sure if that one had been a stroke of luck on his part, or if he was that much of a stalker), it'd been his opportunity. Not to send me to jail; he'd probably always known that wouldn't be possible. No, his plan had been to destroy my name, my credibility, to turn my friends, my family away from me. Have them see me as a murderer, as a monster... and it hadn't worked.

He was furious, but he knew he'd lost, and so he left. Black Canary looked at me apologetically for a second, then at the rest of us, before leaving. I didn't know if she'd go with him, or choose to go her own way. In the end that was her choice to make.

"You know I can still destroy him, you just say the word?" Lex murmured.

He was suddenly at my side, talking quietly, eyes fixed on the door; and while his tone was mostly joking, I could perceive the hint of steel underneath the joke.

"Lex!" I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me.

"Just think about it." He told me, almost animatedly. "It would be so easy. I could have his company in pieces in less than two weeks, leave it up for the taking... who knows? Your cousin might even want a piece once he learns what happened."

"You know who he is..." I realized then.

"It wasn't that hard, once I really thought about it." He shrugged. "I should have probably seen it after the last time. The way he was acting... it was not much different from when we were teenagers, from when he'd torment Duncan and I... before Bruce stepped in."

"And he believes himself to be a hero..." I snorted.

"He's always had delusions of grandeur." Lex agreed cheekily. "So, give the word?"

"Thank you but... not right now." I told him with a shake of my head. "I'm going to give him one more chance, to make things right."

"You and your chances." Lex let out a sigh. "Clark is just the same way... it's going to get you killed one of these days. Then again, perhaps I shouldn't complain, I've benefited from that mentality of yours, after all."

"I doubt it'll get us killed." I shrugged. "A bit singed perhaps, but then again, I've never been afraid of fire."

"No, you haven't." Lex agreed. "I suppose I'll back down, for now. But if he tries anything, if he so much as thinks about going after Clark, Chloe, Trish, the children... I will destroy him, and no one will be able to stop him."

"If he even thinks about hurting the children in any way I will help you." I replied.

I didn't think it'd get that far, but there was no way of knowing for sure. Things were already so different from what I'd once seen, what they could have been. For the most part they were better, though I still wondered if anything could have been done, to help Oliver Queen back onto the right path. It was almost as if, without Lex as a villain, he couldn't be a hero... as if the two simply couldn't exist on the same side... Ridiculous, completely ridiculous.

xXx

Trish gave birth in late November, twin boys as it turned out, both with red hair and blue eyes (if different shades), they were named John Gabriel and Joseph Virgil Swann-Luthor; the chosen godparents were: for John, Johnathan and Martha, and for Joseph: Clark and I. The press was very interested, and Mercy and Hope made sure to keep them all away, until eventually Lex and Trish decided to give an exclusive interview to Clark and Chloe, and a single picture, which became front-page of the Daily Planet.

There were even a handful of attempts at kidnappings (the babies were the heirs to two of the richest and most powerful families in the country, after all)... though even calling them that would be too much, considering that in three of those the criminals barely even managed to make it into Smallville before being stopped by the metas, one got to the doors of the mansion before being similarly stopped, and the only one that actually made it through the gates got it even worse, being scared half to death by Mercy and Hope...

Really, Smallville was a tightly knit community, everyone knew how much Lex and Trish tried to help, not only by giving jobs to everyone they could, and cleaning the town of the meteors, and rescuing the metahumans trapped in Belle Reeve and other institutions, but in every small way they could think of. There was no way anyone would ever allow someone to hurt those boys, or anyone else in the town for that matter.

Lex could only felt wonder at it all, at the thought of the life he had, and the one he'd had...

"You know, I once told Clark that our friendship would be the stuff of legends." Lex commented to me one afternoon, as we watched the babies napping. "And I meant it, I really did and yet..."

"You never expected it to be this way." I finished for him.

"Not at all." He agreed. "There were times when I was so sure that, regardless of how hard I might try, nothing would ever be enough. That I'd never be able to rid myself of the stigma of being Lionel Luthor's son. Every time something went wrong, especially if the plant was in any way connected to it, I was blamed. Even when it wasn't some people would blame me simply for being a Luthor. As if that name were synonym with 'guilty' or 'antichrist'..."

"Johnathan was at the top of that list..." I couldn't help but remind him.

"And yet Clark always believed in me." Lex retorted. "I couldn't understand how he did it, you know? Keep having faith. Even when I kept failing him... yet he never gave up on me."

"Nor did you give up on him." I reminded him. "I know it wasn't easy, having him lying to you every time something happened, feeling like he didn't trust you. The kind of man you are Lex... you need to be in control. Because every time you haven't been, something has gone completely wrong; or at least that's how it feels for you. And not knowing, not being able to control the kind of things that happened in Smallville, it infuriated you."

"You may say it, it was driving me insane, almost literally too." He nodded evenly.

"But you gave Clark another chance, many chances even." I went on. "And eventually he saw he could trust you, that you are a good man... and Johnathan saw it too..."

"I still have no idea how I managed that one." Lex deadpanned. "How did you?"

"How did I what?" The question took me by surprise.

"Decide that you could trust me. I mean, from the very start, there were things you never really tried to hide, like the fact that Rosalie Nova wasn't your real name. Eventually you revealed that you were gifted, and a trained fighter..."

"I knew you could be trusted."

"But how? Did you see something?"

"No, I..." I took a deep breath, fighting to find the right words to explain it. "I don't know if you remember, but I've always said that people cannot lie to me, or at least, that I know when they do. That has nothing to do with my Sight... it's similar to that. The things I can do, it goes beyond my visions, and my affinity with fire..."

"And the way you can climb buildings without gear and faster than professional climbers, and sometimes run faster than medal-winning sprinters..."

"Yeah, that too." I smiled sheepishly. "I inherited a lot from my parents, and not all of it is obvious. Though you've clearly noticed a lot of it. Others might have too, but most people tend to focus on the most notorious things, like fire and knowing the future. They focus on that so much they don't realize all the other things I can do, that normal baseline humans would never be able to. It's convenient, I suppose..."

"And you won't tell me what you are." Lex murmured thoughtfully. "It's obvious you're not just a meta, and you just implied you aren't human..."

"You will find out one day. Everyone will." I assured him. "Just not yet. Some things... the world just isn't ready for them."

"I see..." He murmured, very quietly.

The tone he used when he said those words, it was obvious he'd picked up on something, probably something I hadn't planned on; and yet he would be saying nothing. He would wait, he would trust me, like I trusted him. Sometimes trust really was everything...

Chapter Text

Peach Rose

Unexpected New Things can happen, with just a little Sincerity and trust.

The news were on when I entered the 'family kitchen' in the lower floor of the Luthors' two-floor penthouse apartment. While each of us had our own apartments in Luthor Tower in downtown Metropolis (Clark and Chloe Sullivan-Kent shared a full-floor one, while I had one that took half a floor, the other half belonging to the rest of the Kents, where they stayed when in Metropolis; the next two floors had smaller apartments where Kara, Alicia, Cyrus or anyone else from the group stayed whenever they needed to; Moira and Gabe were the only ones who didn't live in the Tower, as they had their own place); we enjoyed eating at least one meal all together once or twice a week (mostly the weekends, since everyone had day-jobs).

It was 2011 and I'd been living in Metropolis fully for two years. It wasn't a decision I made lightly; but eventually I'd realized that I was more needed in the city. Lex and Trish had created the Veritas Foundation, a private organization dedicated to finding, helping and guiding people with abilities (whether they were granted by meteors, or some other circumstance). Emil worked with them on a case by case basis, same as a number of people from Smallville; and eventually I decided I could help more there than as a school nurse in Smallville.

It was almost funny because at least half the city knew exactly what Veritas did, the people who were involved with it (both as staff and 'patients'), yet in between the money and respect the Swann-Luthor family commanded, the laws and initiatives Senator Kent kept pushing through, the assistance Martha gave whenever she could, the stories Clark and Chloe got out on the Daily Planet, and especially the things gifted did here and there to help the people of Metropolis, no one dared so much as say a bad word about any of it.

Veritas wasn't the focus of the news that particular morning, no, it was Dinah Queen, wife of billionaire and favorite son of Star City: Oliver Queen... on suspicions of vigilantism. More than one of us had snorted at that word, the way they managed to make it sound dirty, and ridiculous. Not because Dinah wasn't, all of us in the room knew she was Black Canary, but still. The story had been on every news outlet for weeks; though it hadn't actually begun with her. No, it'd begun with Oliver Queen being accused of the same, of being the Green Arrow; never mind that the green-clad vigilante hadn't been seen in a little over two years! Unsurprisingly the authorities had been unable to find hard evidence of Oliver having been the Arrow; the most anyone had dare say, 'officially', was that he might have helped the vigilante get his gear (which was how he'd been 'found' in the first place, Queen Industries had released a few things through a number of military contracts, and someone had been able to connect them to things the Green Arrow had used during his brief 'career'). Then right when it'd seemed like it'd all blow over, Dinah Queen (nee Lance) was 'unmasked' as Black Canary; and with her at least they'd managed to find enough to 'arrest her'.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad is this?" Trish asked us, probably wanting to be ready for it.

"Right now, probably a five." Clark said with a seemingly lighthearted shrug.

"With the potential for an eight or nine." Chloe added, soberly. "Depending on what Mr. Queen is willing to give to get his wife released..."

And therein lay the problem; because Oliver Queen knew we weren't exactly normal. Even if he did not know all the gory details, he knew enough that, if he talked, it could make things more than a little difficult for all of us, and for Smallville too.

"What do we do then?" Trish asked next, wanting to keep the focus.

We all knew the answer, but no one was quite willing to say it, until:

"We need to get her out." Clark finally said.

Yes, we all knew he was right. Wasn't going to make things any easier though...

xXx

We had a plan, and a good one at that. Not that it mattered much, things still went straight to hell. I actually wasn't there for most of it. I'd gotten a call on my pager, a man on our watch-list had just arrived to Metropolis General... straight to the Morgue.

The man's name was Sylvester Pemberton; and he wasn't exactly in our watch-list, not under his civilian name, at least. While setting up Veritas we'd taken care to investigate any possible gifted that might live in the city. We'd found a list of people who were considered criminals back in the nineties; they'd apparently gotten into a war with Checkmate, a government organization created to keep them under check. Things had apparently gotten progressively worse from mid-eighties all the way to mid-nineties, when the leader of the special team dedicated to taking them down was murdered by one of those gifted. The rest had apparently gone to ground afterwards, and Checkmate could never find them, and eventually became inactive.

None of us were the kind to take things at face value. We didn't believe that the gifted were evil and Checkmate the good guys simply because that was what the files and the news told us (and considering the split between the government and the X-Men in the nineties... we had more than enough reason to be skeptical). In any case, we'd gone through all the records we were able to find; there had been few actual names, all of them belonging to dead people, unsurprisingly. But there had also been descriptions, and even a few blurry pictures. Sylvester Pemberton had been found wearing an attire that fit, for the most part, with what one of the presumed vigilantes of that time had been known to wear.

Since my involvement wasn't exactly essential for the 'rescue mission' I put my normal clothes over the suit I wore when I used my powers 'publicly', and went straight to Metropolis General to find out what had happened to Mr. Pemberton.

The contents of the coroner's report left me thoroughly shocked. And I had to go to Emil and confirm what I was reading before I could truly believe it.

"Bullet wounds, with no projectiles, and ice residue..." I repeated.

"Yes." He nodded. "And that's not all. There's actual DNA in the residue..."

"DNA..." I repeated. "So it was a gifted."

Possibly even the same gifted that had killed the agent in '94... except, I wasn't sure why but there was something that didn't seem to quite fit. We were missing something I knew it, even if I had no idea what exactly... and then I placed a hand on the table beside me, inadvertently touching Mr. Permberton's clothes. It was a very slight touch, and yet it was enough, the vision swallowed me before I quite knew what was happening:

The images came practically one on top of the next: a group of young adults in bright-colored costumes, some of them enhanced or with amazing powers, fighting against a group of men and women in dark suits, government agents; A man with pale skin with the slightest blue tint, aiming what looks like a futuristic gun, one which shot ice; a girl with hawk-wings, on the ground, looking dazed, a dent on her helmet and the enemy rushing at her; a blonde in a black ensemble, being murdered, her family being forced to mourn her in secret, for if anyone were to know the truth, they too would be at risk; more fights, vicious and bloody, sometimes one side lost, sometimes no one won, sometimes someone died...

The last image was the same group, only they looked older, harder, and they weren't fighting human agents, but instead other gifted, a group I knew well. Kal, Zatanna, Impulse, Aquaman and Cyborg were winning, when suddenly the whole place was covered in ice; in the background someone screamed, it sounded familiar...

"Rosalie!" Emil called to me, by the tone of voice I could guess it wasn't the first time.

"I need to find the others..." I muttered, going for the door.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sincerely worried.

"I'm fine, but the others are in over their heads, in more ways than they could possibly imagine." I told him, slipping out of the morgue, pulling my cellphone and dialing. "Alicia? I need a ride... It's an emergency... I'm at Metropolis General..."

From one second to the next Alicia was suddenly by my side. She was already suited-up. I took a moment to slip my skirt and blouse off and put them inside my bag, which I stashed inside my locker (I would get it later). Then I took Alicia's hand and we were gone.

We appeared a couple of yards away from where the two teams were battling. I couldn't actually see Dinah, but had no doubt she was around. And then the temperature went down abruptly. I wondered if the one causing it was the same man with the strange gun I'd seen in my vision; or someone else entirely. In any case I could see it was the perfect plan, pitting two teams of heroes against each other, it'd potentially cut Checkmate's enemies in half... Except I wasn't about to allow that; everyone in that alley might be too stubborn to realize they were making a mistake, that they were being played by the real enemy; but I wasn't so blind.

"Stop it!" I called, rushing to where they kept fighting. "Stop!"

It was pointless. Even though the sudden cold pushed them to change tactics, the confrontation did not stop. It wouldn't... unless someone forced their hand...

"I said Stop!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, at the same time I called on fire, blanketing the alley with my flames.

That definitely made everyone stop in their tracks.

"What the hell is this?!" I didn't pay attention who spoke, it wasn't that important.

And then things got even crazier:

"Rose...?"

I spun around abruptly, watching a man step past the couple with dark bird-wings. He was very tall, wiry, with blue skin with black tattoos, black hair, and red eyes on black with blue rings in them. I knew him, would have known him no matter what...

"Hakon?!" I couldn't mask the shock.

"So it is you... little sister." He nodded, arching a brow at me. "Just what chaos have you gotten yourself involved into this time?"

It was no offense, no attack, simply the same kind of question he asked whenever I got into trouble (which happened fairly often). I didn't get the chance to answer, though.

"Sister?!" Several people called at the same time, on both sides.

"Stop." I called again, raising a hand. "As interesting as I know the upcoming conversation is going to be, we cannot have it here. In case it didn't occur to you all, this was a set-up, a very elaborate one, but still. The government has nothing on Mrs. Queen, they've never had it, they used her as bait. Checkmate is pitting us against each other, so they might have less gifted to worry about, once they come out of the shadows. I think we shouldn't allow them to get away with it. In the end, we're all on the same side."

"Are we?" The man with the wings challenged.

"We are Protectors, above and beyond anything else." I explained. "Unless you're planning on attacking us, our friends, our families... I doubt we'll ever be on opposite sides."

"What about you deciding to come after us?" A blonde girl in a blue, red and white attire, holding a yellow shining staff taller than her, demanded.

"We're not your enemies." Clark spoke up, taking his place as the leader. "We will not be, unless you force our hands."

"It's up to you whether you choose to believe us or not." Chloe added for good measure.

"Are you really his sister?" It was the woman with the wings asking the question. "Are you really Rossi's and Serrure's daughter?"

"I am..." I answered, and suddenly I knew without a doubt who she and the man by her side were exactly. "You're the prince and princess, aren't you? From Egypt, a thousand years ago..."

"You know, Frost said it first, now she... why is it that these kids' parents treat you two like a freaking fairy-tale?" A man with a long coat and an odd-looking mask asked.

Hakon and I snorted in unison, and I knew we were thinking the same: if anyone's life was a freaking fairy-tale, it was our parents'.

xXx

As it turned out, things were even worse than we could have ever imagined...

"What do you mean Checkmate is gunning for all of us...?" I began the question.

"Well, that part isn't exactly surprising." Lex pointed out evenly. "It was one of the possibilities."

"And they're allied with Hydra?!" I finished.

"I think it's more that Hydra has infiltrated them, just like it's infiltrated many levels of the government, the CIA, the FBI and... and even SHIELD." Hakon said grimly.

"SHIELD?!" I repeated in absolute shock.

"Shannon discovered it, she almost died because of it." Hakon nodded. "She's asleep again now. We don't know when she'll wake up again."

Shannon... the real Peggy Carter had almost died, and if she'd died, Captain America would have been gone forever.

"Hey, what exactly is Hydra?" Bart called right then.

More than one person looked at him like he was crazy. Though truth was, he wasn't the only one who didn't know. Courtney Whitmore, Stargirl, didn't either; and there were others...

"They're forgetting." Hakon muttered bitterly. "Everything they did, all the fights, all the sacrifices, the blood... the dead! And it's all being forgotten... I wonder if that's part of Hydra's plan too. If the people don't know of them, they will never see them coming..."

"That's what we're here for." I told him, a hand on his shoulder. "To make sure people know what really happened back then, and so they're ready for what's coming."

And so the story was told. All of it, from the moment Howard Stark had found Mama, Papa, Aunt Sia and little Hakon; Project Rebirth, Captain America, Agent Peggy Carter, the war, the Howling Commandos, Bucky's loss, Zola's capture, the attack on Red Skull's base, the plane crashed in the Arctic. There were things we left out, like the matter of the former Marguerite Cartier, and what had happened to the real Peggy Carter; the time-travel, and the existence of other Realms (and the fact that we were from other realms... technically).

"So... you really are older than you look." Dinah blurted out in surprise. "You look good for a woman in her early sixties..."

I couldn't help but laugh at that... wondering what she'd say if she were to meet Mama...

We'd found out why exactly the other team (they called themselves the JSA, Justice Society of America) had gone after Dinah... apparently she wasn't the first Black Canary to exist. There had been another before her, her mother... (I'd seen that woman die, her family unable to mourn her properly out of fear of Checkmate and the government).

By the end of the day we didn't all become friends, there was a lot we were still keeping from the JSA (like the metahumans in Smallville), but we were allies; and also, our group was slowly becoming less of vigilantes banding together out of necessity, and more of an actual team. A 'work in progress' Clark called us.

xXx

Of course something went wrong, because something always invariably goes wrong sooner or later. We'd all been so focused on the JSA and Checkmate, that we began neglecting other things, like the metahumans in Veritas. By the time we noticed a number of them had gone missing, they were already part of a team created by Checkmate: the Suicide Squad.

Those were some dark days for Metropolis. Even though many of the metas had committed to helping us, and we tried so hard to keep civilians out of the fight, it wasn't always possible. There was a lot of destruction, and more than a few deaths... It weighed on my conscience.

"I wonder if it's my own fault." I told my brother one day. "After En Sabah Nur and Doomsday... I think I just got used to knowing when big enemies were coming, being able to stop them before they truly threatened cities, or the world. And now..."

And it wasn't even just them. There was also Miranda Tate, she'd been Bruce's colleague; until one of my visits to Gotham for a charity (necessary to keep the illusion of Rosalie Kane), the moment I'd seen her I'd gotten a number of visions about her, mostly of her past, and a little of her future... and while her past made me feel compassion for her, for the girl that had lost so much, been forced to fight so hard to survive; knowing that even in that moment she was already planning, against my cousin, against his city... it was enough to convince me to go to Bruce with everything. I had no idea what he'd done exactly, but two weeks later Miranda Tate was gone, and I knew without asking that she wasn't coming back.

"Even if we'd noticed what was going on with those kids... I'm not sure it'd have been enough." Hakon pointed out. "Checkmate will stop at nothing to destroy us, all of us. And they won't stop here, with us. If we don't defeat them... if they actually win..."

"They will go after others." I nodded, having guessed as much. "We need to stop them."

"We will." He stated.

We'd no idea how we would do it; but we really had to; for us, for our family, or friends... and potentially for every single gifted and enhanced in the planet.

xXx

All hell broke lose just before the end of the summer. A trap was laid, and we didn't know it until it was too late. Waller, the leader of Checkmate, had managed to recruit Lex's 'right-hand woman' in LexLuthorCorp: Tess Mercer. Lex had trusted her, we all had, and she betrayed us... Sarah, Conner, John, Joseph, Courtney and Kendra Hall (Carter and Shayera Hall's daughter) were taken captive and placed in different rooms inside Checkmate's base; each were guarded by agents of Checkmate; and we were told that the moment we managed to rescue one, the lives of all others would be forfeit. It was worse than our worst nightmares.

There was, of course, only one thing we could do: keep going. So we split, and then went inside. Lex was with us, he'd insisted, while Trish was back at the base, playing Watchtower; she had wanted to tag along, but after becoming aware of her condition none of us would allow it: she was pregnant again, a baby girl that time. We'd make sure that baby had her big brothers. Even Batman had arrived to help us...

None of us will ever know everything that happened that night, exactly. A few things were certain though: Bette Sans Souci (alias Plastique) who'd been tasked with guarding the twins, couldn't bring herself to do anything that might actually hurt the boys, they were innocent... and she was also aware of just how much she owed the boys' parents; that it wasn't Lex's and Trish's fault where she ended, it'd been her choice. When the treason became obvious, orders had been given to kill the other hostages (all our hearts had stopped at that). Conner had chosen that exact moment to show what he was capable of, getting himself and his sister out; while Courtney had summoned her staff (something no one had known she could do), and Kendra had proven that even if not an official part of the JSA herself, she could handle herself.

It all soon became a huge battle, and no one came out unscathed. We lost people, like Tyler, a young man with the ability to shape the wind and use it to attack and even cut; Alicia was badly hurt, and would have died if it hadn't been for her boyfriend: Cyrus. Sandman and Hourman died, and Hawkgirl got a serious enough hit in the head it was a miracle Chloe got to her in time. On the other end, everyone loyal to Checkmate died. Lex himself killed Tess, when she tried to kill Sarah (Conner had been unable to intervene because she had kryptonite). Some others died during the fight, and the last ones perished when Plastique, after apologizing for not being the person we'd wished her to be, detonated herself, bringing the whole place down... we managed to make it out alive, though just barely.

I collapsed directly on the sidewalk the moment we got out, I was completely exhausted. Hadn't felt that way since burning the black ship in '05... On the plus side, I was still conscious!

"You know the government will cover this up, right?" Carter hissed darkly as he looked at the smoking ruins.

"At best it'll be declared a gas-leak, either a 'miracle with no deceased', or a 'terrible tragedy', depending on the angle they wish to give it." Lex agreed.

"At worst they'll blame us, again." Shayera muttered with a pained groan.

"No." The word, spoken in Clark's voice, and with perfect conviction, made us all turn to him. "No, that won't happen, not this time. We won't let it."

"This time we're getting the truth out." Chloe agreed with him.

And they did. It was front-page of the Daily Prophet the following day: the whole story (or almost all

of it) of the JSA, Checkmate, and their decades-long enmity. The story also included quotes from the 'sole survivor' of the altercation: Dinah Queen, and her husband, who 'recognized the labors of the heroes who ensured his wife came home'. It was another layer of protection, as long as people believed them, believed us all to be dead, we weren't targets. Even if we couldn't really go after Hydra, not yet, we still did our best to keep our own safe... which was what brought on the next decision I made, the hardest I'd done in a lifetime...

xXx

"What do you mean you're leaving?" Lex demanded.

Three days had passed since our 'battle' against Checkmate and its Suicide Squad, the story had broken. Lex and Trish had gone public with Tess Mercer having been part of the organization, and the inclusion of Oliver Queen's testimony, explaining how Tess had once been a Marine Biologist, who was kidnapped and held hostage by pirates in the Caribbean for a while... it all added to the picture of a once good woman who'd gone down the wrong path.

We'd all made our peace with the former Green Arrow. While we probably would never be friends, we weren't enemies either. It was simple enough for each of us to stick to our turfs, so to speak... well, with one or two notable exceptions.

"I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you." I said in a rush. "Because I'm really, really not. If I thought I could do more by staying..."

"We don't think you're abandoning us." Clark interrupted. "You'd never do that."

"In fact, with your record it's likely you're doing this for us, to protect us... even if it ends up putting you in even more danger." Chloe added, brows narrowed.

I didn't even bother trying to deny it, what was the point?

"I won't be alone." I assured them. "Hakon is coming with me." I let out a breath. "This needs to be done. The world will not remain ignorant of the gifted for much longer... it's actually quite surprising that aside from very specific circles, they don't yet know..."

"You have all made sure of that." Alicia pointed out, then revised. "We all have. Most people... they will not understand."

"No, but no secret can last forever." I reminded them. "Sooner or later the world will know. Hopefully by then they will be able to accept all the good gifted can be..."

"Like the people in Smallville..." Cyrus nodded.

"I seriously doubt the whole world could be like the people in Smallville." Lex snorted. "But if at least some of them are, that will be good." His eyes turned to me. "Going back to your insane plans of running away to protect us..."

"We know Hydra is coming." I tried to explain. "Even if we've taken down Checkmate, the rest of that particular organization will not give up. I doubt this will even be that much of a set-back, if things are as bad as Hakon believes them to be..." I shook my head, not wanting to think about that just yet. "We will need allies, many of them, all around the world. That's why we need to go. If that also means that Hydra will be kept occupied, its eyes away from Kansas, from all of you, all the better."

"We were lucky right now." Bruce said gruffly. "Checkmate didn't really have anything against Mrs. Queen, and it's all been put down as some sort of ploy on Miss Mercer's part to discredit the Queens and allow LuthorCorp to advance. It is public opinion that she was quite insane... which would also explain her going after the children of respected citizens, claiming them to be abominations... We were lucky. This will all blow over in a couple of weeks, and soon enough no one not in the know will remember it. We need that, we need that obscurity, that anonymity, so when Hydra comes, when our time comes to act, they won't be expecting it."

"I get all that." Lex said. "I really do. But why can't you stay with us until that happens?"

"Because we will need allies." I explained. "Hakon has been trying to find such over the last decade or so... but it's not fair to leave that task only to him. Also, you have to admit that thanks to my past as the Rose of Chaos, and our little summer trip around the world, I know some people he doesn't, people that could be good allies, friends even."

"There's no changing your mind, is there?" Kara asked softly.

"No, I'm sorry." I admitted quietly.

"Promise you will come back." Martha's sudden vehemence caught me by surprise.

"Huh?" I wasn't sure how to respond to that, or when she was suddenly before me, holding me tightly by my arms.

"Promise me that no matter how dangerous, how crazy things get, you will come back." Martha insisted. "You are part of this family Rosalie, and we aren't letting you go..."

"I'll come back..." I breathed out with a watery smile.

I was about to cry, and it was crazy, because there was no reason to except... except Martha Kent was my mother... probably what Mama would be like if she weren't an almost-immortal Warrior Lady and the reincarnation of an elven princess... if she were just a woman, human, someone who could age like mortals do. And while I'd never stop loving Mama, Martha too had an important place in my heart. (Why not? I had two fathers... I could very well have more than one mother).

"I will come back." I repeated.

There really was nothing more to say. We had no idea how long I'd be gone. I guessed that, whatever Hydra might end up doing, it wouldn't happen before 2016; though that was mostly because I truly believed that if my parents had known, they'd have done something about it before leaving the Realm; which meant they didn't know, which meant it would all be revealed after the date in which they traveled to the past. Of course I could be wrong, But Hakon agreed with the idea. Which meant we had about five years, give or take a few months... five years to make sure we had enough people on our side to stop Hydra when they finally decided to act, to finish what Captain America and the Howling Commandos had begun so long before...

xXx

We went to Gotham first. If I was going to have a chance at one day being Rosalie Nova (Kane) again, I needed to set up something to protect that identity. So I got on Hakon's bike and we rode to Gotham. We waited a couple of days, while I fixed some paperwork; it was easy enough for us to hide away in the Kane townhouse. There had once been an ancient manor, just like the Wayne one, but it'd been left to ruin when the family instead tried to help the Waynes save Gotham (both families had lost more than half their fortunes doing so). The townhouse still stood in the high-end of town... it was also in my name, along with half of the Kane fortune (the other half being in Bruce's name). I fixed all the paperwork necessary for Bruce to get access to all of it in necessary, while at the same time ensuring that I wouldn't be declared dead or anything.

Then I went in to see Bruce in Wayne Enterprises, made sure people saw me, that some even heard me as I gave a speech about being tired of being in just one place, how I wanted to travel, see the world... like he had. It was the best way to do things. By the end of it I walked out of the office with a bright smile, calling back how I was leaving already, no bags, no nothing, just me; Bruce yelling after me how I was absolutely insane...

It was a nice scene, even if a bit staged... a part of me wondered what it would have been like, if I'd really been Rosalie Kane... if I'd really been Bruce's cousin, out to see the world...

Hakon and I took his bike and went West. He was going to introduce me to a family of witches, mortal spellweavers whom he'd known for a few years and were good friends of his. They didn't even seem to mind his true nature (or what they knew about it).

Hakon explained to me, how the universe was a lot bigger than the Nine Realms. Even the worlds connected just by Yggdrassil were a lot more than just nine. The witches he knew had fought creatures they called demons, though in reality they were simply species that came from other worlds, some evil, some not-so-much. In the end, humans gave things names they could better understand (and apparently witches understood warlocks, demons and an idea of the underworld, better than the prospect of dozens of worlds connected by the Shadow Realm, and a variety of beings and races wider than the leaves of a hundred-year-old tree).

We rode for most of the day before stopping in a motel just outside of Denver, Colorado. Ate something in a nearby diner and were on our way back to the motel to shower and get some sleep (and I could guess what some people would say about me staying in a motel...) when I abruptly sensed someone closing in on us. Less than two seconds later there was a dark-haired man, with some thick, dark facial hair, wearing cargo pants and a long trench-coat standing less than five inches away from my brother. There was a mix of a military air and something almost... animal about him, I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Even without having the slightest idea of who he was, I knew better than to interrupt a hunter (and the newcomer was a hunter, that much was clear to me); so I just stood immobile, waiting for either him or Hakon to say something, move, anything.

The newcomer was the first to react, after getting uncomfortably close to Hakon, and looking almost like he was sniffing my brother, he turned towards me.

"And who might you be?" He asked, head cocked sideways, interested.

"Rosa... Rose." I began my latest alias, then corrected myself. "I'm his sister..."

"Your sister..." He murmured lowly, attention fixed straight on Hakon. "How interesting..." He turned to me then. "Go ahead, little flower. Big bro and I are going to have 'a chat'."

I could hear the air-quotes around the word, but there was something about his presence, about the way he stalked around Hakon, I didn't sense any danger from him, nothing dark. At Hakon's nod I finally shrugged my shoulders and went back to walking towards the motel. I did lock the door though, if Hakon needed to, he could wake me up to open it; though I had a feeling I wouldn't be seeing him before morning anyway.

xXx

I was right of course. I was on my way out to get something to drink, probably some coffee (Mama might be almost allergic to it, but I'd found I liked it, especially the mochas, the mix of bitter and sweet...), when I found Hakon standing just outside what was supposed to be our room, hand raised as if about to knock. I didn't need to look too hard at him to notice the rumpled clothing; he was missing his under-shirt, and his jeans looked just a little bit ripped. Not to speak of his hair, birds' nest really wasn't a strong enough description (especially when one considered how self-conscious my brother always was...). I couldn't help myself, I laughed.

"Don't... say a word." He stated in his most military tone.

"How about I go get us some coffee, and maybe bagels while you take a shower and into some clean clothes?" I offered.

Truth was, we hadn't really left Gotham (or Metropolis for that matter) with just the clothes on our backs, as my conversation with Bruce had implied. We packed light, all things considered, but weren't hurting for things, or money, not really.

I got back right as he was combing his hair. And really, the way he looked, in a long sleeved shirt, blue jeans, dark boots, and a dark-leather jacket hanging from the back of a chair, it only made it more evident how wild he'd looked earlier.

"So...?" I began, offering him his part of breakfast.

"So?" He retorted, somewhat defensively.

"Who was that?" I finally asked.

"Victor is a friend." He answered with a shrug of his shoulders, one I knew meant he was trying to make less of the situation. "You'll forgive his attitude last night, I hope. He's somewhat... feral, doesn't connect well with people."

"He connects well with you." I blurted out before I could think about it.

"Rose..." My brother began.

"Hakon..." I said in return, then smiled widely. "You don't need to try and lie to me, or justify it. I can tell he's your lover. I can also tell it's been going on for a long time..."

"It's nothing serious." Hakon stated, and I wondered who, exactly, he was trying to convince of that. "Victor comes and goes. He's the closest to immortal I've seen in this realm, much like you and I, he doesn't age, he also heals incredibly fast; faster than either of us. I met him in Vietnam, in the late sixties. He saved my life and got badly injured doing it. Badly enough I was sure he'd die. Spent the whole night on vigil by his bedside; after what he'd done, I didn't want him to die alone. He called for his brother, but we couldn't find him and...

"And he didn't die." I finished for him.

"He didn't die." He agreed. "By the morning, when a medic went to check on him, they assumed that the injury hadn't been so bad. A volunteer had been the one to check on him the night before and everyone assumed a mistake had been made."

"But you knew better." I pointed out.

"I knew better." My brother nodded. "I realized he had to be one of the gifted. Offered him a place in my unit, but he had to go back out, find his brother. Said he'd made a promise, to always look after him..." He let out a breath. "Next time I saw him was several weeks later. A kid had just died and I'd gotten into a hell of a fight with my superiors to make sure Trask wouldn't be able to claim the body... Was trying to get drunk, though it was no good. And then he was there. He... gave me another outlet..."

"Stop!" I interrupted him, a mix of a wild expression and a smirk. "I so don't need to know that!"

Hakon stuck his tongue out and the two of us dissolved into laughter.

"He keeps coming back to you." I pointed out, for no reason at all.

"He does." Hakon nodded, taking a sip of coffee. "I've never been sure how he does it, or why."

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked him, a brow arched.

"Rose...?" He called, then shook his head almost violently. "No, I told you, it's nothing serious."

It actually hadn't occurred to me, not until the words left my lips, but in that moment it was so clear. The way Victor had acted, the way Hakon himself had responded, instinctively, and the aura that surrounded them...

"I don't know if you're trying to lie to me, or to myself, but I do think we both know the truth." I told him softly. "You yourself described your Victor as feral. And yet, even with that, he keeps coming back to you..."

"He's not my Victor." He denied, though there was no strength behind the denial.

"He is." I pressed, knowing I was right. "Just like you're his Hakon. You belong to each other." I took a deep breath, pronouncing the words I knew a part of him had to know already. "You're a match, brother."

He didn't respond, he probably couldn't think of the right words to say... I wasn't sure there were right words to be said. A part of me wondered if he'd known, beyond the denials, the pretending, or if I'd managed to catch him by surprise... I didn't know, and I wouldn't ask, in the end it wasn't my business.

"I'm not sure I can do this, sister..." Hakon admitted after a long while.

"It's not easy, having a match." I told him softly. "In this world and age, and leading the kind of lives we do... but a match is always a blessing, a gift from the stars. No matter how hard it might be, nothing will ever make them anything less, nothing will ever stop them being worth it all..."

I could sense his agreement, even if he didn't actually say a thing. I knew, deep inside, that he understood what I was saying, that he agreed, and that was enough.

xXx

Hakon and I didn't stay together much longer. From the start I'd known it wouldn't last long. We'd made it to San Francisco the night before and in the morning he took me to a family restaurant called Warren's. After some of the best breakfast foods I'd had in a while, he introduced me to the owner of the restaurant, who also happened to be part of the triumvirate that lead the magical family. Three sisters, their husbands and children, the second generation were all young, most still in their teens, but their potential was simply amazing. The situation was explained to them, and while it was obvious they didn't like the idea of getting involved in (another) war, they understood the risk, and in the end promised to help us.

Then Hakon had gotten an unexpected call. My brother didn't tell me all the details, though the basics were certainly enough: Peggy was awake. Also, she was apparently about ready to cause a riot, according to the person who'd called (Harry-something). Hakon felt he owed Peggy; also, without our parents, and Howard and most of the Commandos gone, he and I were effectively the only ones who knew the truth about her, who had any chance at helping her, and she knew and trusted Hakon. I told him it'd be alright, I could handle continuing the mission on my own, and so he went and took the first plane to London.

For my part, I couldn't help but feel that maybe it was better that way. The Halliwells had already promised they'd get in touch with their friends and allies among those magical; it would be easy, they were well connected. And so I went north. After managing to save Kyla Willowbrook's life several years earlier, her grandfather had insisted on making Clark and I honorary Kawatche. We were among the very few people the tribe trusted, who weren't part of them already. Part of that trust meant we knew things, like the fact that the Kawatche weren't the only skinwalkers, other tribes had such abilities as well, and not all of them turned into wolves. So I decided to begin with them. I had a bracelet Joseph Willowbrook had given me, showing my honorary status, I hoped that would be enough to convince other tribes to agree to talk to me. It was a bit of a leap, certainly; but I had to begin somewhere, and I'd already decided it'd be better to exhaust all options in America before beginning with other countries.

I had time, the means, and even the connections, up to a point. It wasn't even just the summer I'd spent traveling with the others, hunting down the Elements. No, before that, when I'd been an X-Woman... and, I supposed that in a way I never stopped being that, never stopped being the Rose of Chaos. And that was important, because as the Rose I was more than just a woman, or a gifted, I was a symbol... of good, of unity, of peace for the gifted and enhanced, and that just might help me get the allies I knew we'd all need eventually.

I got to meet a great many people through my travels; some stayed more with me than others: like Leah Black, the alpha female of a pack of shapeshifters in the Olympic Peninsula; she was brave and blunt and didn't like me much when we met, but I could see how much she cared about her mate, and about their people (both pack and humans). Liam and Beth O'Halloran, a pair of 'Dark Hunters' who were based in L.A. yet traveled around the world, working as Private Investigators for cases that normal humans found impossible to solve, most of them connected to 'demons' (like the ones the Halliwell family handled). Then there was John Smith, a nice boy who listened to my story, before turning me down, claiming he had his own war to fight and couldn't get involved in another just yet; though he'd keep an eye out, just in case. Marie (no surname whatsoever), I met just across the border into Canada, I wasn't even looking for her, yet couldn't help but notice when a trucker began harassing her; I went to try and help her, when unexpectedly she pulled off a glove and pressed her bare hand against the man's arm, he crumbled.

"You're gifted..." I breathed out, not quite noticing that I'd spoken out-loud.

She turned to me instantly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey!" I called, reaching for her hand, holding her before she could bolt. "It's alright. I will not hurt you, I promise."

"No, but I might hurt you!" She snapped, then broke off, turning to look down at our hands, still joined. "How...? How are you touching me? No one can touch me without being hurt!"

"Really?" I asked, unable to stop the swell of compassion for the poor girl who probably was no older than sixteen or seventeen; to be unable to touch others... "First of all, I'm gifted, like you... only not quite."

She just arched a brow, as if waiting for me to make up my mind.

"I am gifted." I nodded, looking around me to make sure we were alone, before snapping my fingers, calling on a small flame. "Not the same gift as you, but still."

"You're a mutant too!" She marveled.

"Not exactly." I admitted, sheepishly. "It's why I said I wasn't quite like you. I have gifts, but I'm something other than mutant, or human... it's probably why your own gift doesn't work on me."

"Gift?" She snorted. "More like curse."

"I know it may seem that way sometimes." I told her kindly. "But I strongly believe that we, all of us gifted, are this way for a reason, we were given these abilities for a reason."

"You mean like God?" There was obvious disbelief in her tone.

"God, gods, the stars, the powers that be..." I enlisted with a shrug. "It's all the same in the end. We are what we are, and I truly believe we wouldn't have these abilities if we couldn't handle them, if we couldn't learn to use them properly. I learned to call on fire, to make sure it wouldn't burn my friends, my family..." I proved my point by making the flame dance up and down her arms. "I believe one day you will be able to do the same with your own ability."

"How long?" She asked, very quietly. "How long until I can touch others again? How long did it take you to control it?"

"It's not a matter of measuring the time, at least I don't think so." I told her thoughtfully. "It's a matter of how much you want to tame your power; how much you're willing to learn and accept about yourself to do it. In the end the gift is a part of you, and it requires that you know yourself, understand where that power comes from, to be able to master it. As for me... I had control of my fire almost from the start, I needed to, to be able to save my sister's life; but my Sight, my other gift, that I've yet to truly master. Then again, for the longest time I didn't think to try..."

I wasn't sure she liked that part much, but in the end she just smiled. We said our goodbyes and I watched from the distance as she climbed onto the cab of an old blue and white truck, with a man waiting for her on the driver's seat. He looked familiar, somewhat; he reminded me of someone, but I couldn't put my finger on who it was, exactly.

The most interesting, however, was a man called Raymond Reddington. I knew who he was, had seen him in the FBI's Most Wanted List... I also knew there was something more about him than the 'Concierge of Crime'. He knew about Hydra, before I hardly told him anything at all. He did not promise me help, but agreed to keep an ear out, give me a heads up if he found out something important (though that might have been because I accidentally ended saving his life when some unknown person tried to assassinate him as we were having coffee in Lyon, France).

When the skies above New York opened up, releasing an army of aliens bent on destroying (or possibly just taking over) the planet, I was in China. Learning the language, some alternative medicine and trying to find out if the rumors of a sanctuary for gifted somewhere in that country were true, or just tales. Wasn't getting too far on the latter, but the former two were going quite well as far as I was concerned.

It was several weeks later that I sensed it, the moment my parents returned to Earth. I was near the border with Nepal. It was like some kind of energy going through me, or perhaps our bonds of family snapping back into place. I was wearing traditional clothing of the region, a long chupa dress in maroon, with a long-sleeved off-white tunic underneath and leather sandals; and my hair was back to its natural color, and almost touching the small of my back.

"Mama! Papa!" I couldn't help but exclaim as I saw them, delighted by their presence. "Is it safe for you to be here?"

I needed to ask, I really needed to. Entirely by coincidence I'd happened to be in Santa Fe, New Mexico at the time when Thor (technically, Uncle Thor, even if we'd never met each other and he hadn't the slightest idea I existed) had landed in Puente Antiguo, and the mess that had followed. I wasn't there for any of it, but I could sense a lot, and even got to see a good deal of it in my dreams. It'd taken effort, not to get involved, not to try and help, but I knew it was just too risky, so in the end I stayed in my hotel until I was sure the danger had passed, and then I moved on.

"It is." Mama nodded.

"By now my younger self is confined to the Pit, and the younger Nightingale is at Salani manor, in Maine." Papa elaborated. "They'll stay there until near the end of the year, then they'll be in New York for several months..." He shrugged. "This was really the best time for us to return."

"What's happened?" Mama asked me. "I can almost feel the... anticipation in the very air that surrounds us all..."

"Hydra." I answered grimly, then went into the story.

I knew there was no other choice, I had to be the one to tell them. Steve wasn't available, Hakon and Peggy had gone deep undercover... and I hadn't the slightest idea where Aunt Sia might be. I'd come across her during my trips (both back in 2005, and a few months earlier), but we never had time to really chat, always too busy to stop and talk.

So, in the end it was up to me to tell the tale. What had happened in Three Mile Island; I'd gone there, during my travels, trying to find out what had happened exactly. During my brief time in San Francisco Phoebe had told me about her own powers, precognition and postcognition both, explained to me the tricks she used and that might be useful in allowing me to better control what I could see, and when, I still wasn't very good at it, but I was getting better. I also told them about Checkmate (both what had happened in the nineties, and more recently), and about what had happened to Shannon Carter in 96...

"So, let me see if I got this right," Papa began summarizing: "Steve's been found, Peggy is awake and doing something with Hakon's help, Hydra has managed to infiltrate every single intelligence agency in the world, or thereabout, and you are traveling around the world recruiting allies?"

"In general terms, yes." I nodded. "We all agree that while Hydra may want to keep their actions a secret for now, things won't stay that way forever. Sooner or later they will come out, and that's when our new allies will take them down."

"How are you so sure this people will reveal themselves when the time comes?" Papa wanted to know. "Especially those who've spent their whole lives hanging, or those who might have had bad experiences with the past?"

"I know, I believe in them." I assured them vehemently.

They stayed with me for three days. At some point talking on the phone with Hakon and Peggy, making sure they were alright (they couldn't get close, for everyone's safety). They stayed a few days and would have probably stayed longer, if it hadn't been for the vision I had that night: they were needed elsewhere. And so they went.

I didn't stay in Tibet, instead I traveled west, into Nepal, where I stayed for a while, got to know the spell-weavers there, so different from the ones I'd met in San Francisco, Ipswich, New Salem, Ireland, and many other places. Still, eventually I had to move on.

I knew my travels couldn't go on forever, not even until Hydra revealed itself, I didn't have that many contacts, really... but I wasn't really go back home, to any of the places I'd once called home, I wasn't sure when I'd be.

It didn't actually take that long, really, all it required was a vision, and a choice.

The first thing I noticed was the music, somewhere in the vicinity a piano was playing, a simple, happy tune. There was a girl, kneeling on her bed, tracing a map, a route, a trip she wanted to take one day, in a black knee-length skirt and a pale-blue sleeveless top. I recognized her right away, it was Marie; though there was something intrinsically different from the Marie I'd briefly met in Canada... even if I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly.

There was a bit of chatting between Marie and a boy who I guessed was probably her boyfriend. He didn't say it, but at least to me it was obvious that he didn't agree with her plans, either he didn't think she should want to travel so much, or just didn't think she could do it... he obviously had no idea of Marie's strength...

They kissed, and for a second everything seemed to be absolutely perfect, a beautiful first kiss between two teenagers that, even if they weren't each others 'true love', they were still one another's first love, first relationship, and that was something to be treasured... and then his eyes widened, veins turned dark on his face before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. Marie began screaming.

And so it began. Days later Marie was on the road, knapsack on her back, just a few changes of clothes, keepsakes and all the money she'd saved in her life (and her mom's savings, she'd given them to Marie, being unable to do anything else... though I wasn't entirely certain if Marie had been sent away, chosen to run away, if it had been for her own safety, out of fear... it didn't seem too important in the grand scheme of things. She'd still left).

I realized then that she was the focus of my visions, and it wasn't just about her manifesting her mutation, or being a mutant at all, it was her life as a whole. I saw her leave her childhood home in Meridian, Mississippi, making her way to Alabama, then Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota... I'd believed at some point that her intention was to follow her map... but she didn't. Wasn't sure if she'd forgotten, if she was simply trying to keep on the move, taking the first transport she could, regardless of the destination, or if a part of her just couldn't think about making that particular trip anymore... In any case, she crossed the border into Canada on North Dakota and began moving West.

Most of the time she road on trucks, with whoever was willing to give her a ride for free. It wasn't exactly safe, and more than once the men driving tried something untoward... yet none of them expected what happened the moment they touched her bare skin... None of them could fight it. It was obvious Marie didn't like it, but at least it helped her stay safe, for the most part.

It was in Laughlin City, in Alberta, Canada, that things changed unexpectedly. Marie enters a bar, where she witnesses a man win several cage-fights, fighting almost like an animal, enduring hits no one else possibly could, and always recovering inhumanly fast... the people call him the Wolverine, and it's eventually revealed that he's a mutant, capable of using metal claws (I just knew that couldn't be a fully natural mutation...).

Marie tried to sneak into the back of his truck, an instinct telling her she'd be safe with him. He discovered her, tried to leave her behind, but in the end his good heart won out and he agreed to drive her to the next town. It was just the start.

All things considered, he did try to convince her to leave, and even leave her behind a few times. The most amazing thing was perhaps how quickly they trusted each other, to the point of telling the other their real names (Marie had been going by Rogue, while Wolverine's 'real name' was Logan... or at least that was the name he remembered). In the first weeks traveling together they had so much time together with nothing to do they ended sharing their life-stories, including the reasons why Rogue had left Meridian (while her parents hadn't exactly kicked her out, the town would have never accepted her as a mutant, so she'd decided to run rather than face things once David woke up and told them it was her fault he'd been in a coma). Logan even told her about waking up on some island in the middle of the Susquehanna River, in Pennsylvania, having no memory at all. The only reason he knew his name was because some guy in the island had known it, had apparently known him for a few days, been the one to drive him there, though even he had no idea why Logan had gone there exactly, except that revenge was apparently involved...

(I had no idea what had happened there exactly, but made a mental note to find out, an instinct told me it might be important).

They were near the border with Alaska when the dynamics changed unexpectedly. As Rogue purposefully packed all her things back into her bag before leaving the truck, thanked Wolverine and went on her way. It was until hours later, when he'd bought supplies, filled the tank and she still hadn't returned that he realized she wasn't going to, she'd said goodbye. It was what he'd wanted for weeks, and yet something seemed to have changed, he didn't want her to go anymore. So he went looking for her, found her in a local diner, looking for new transport. He didn't say a word, simply took her bag, took her arm, and pulled her out.

I didn't get to see the conversation that followed that particular display of possessiveness, but something told me it must have been epic. In any case, as the vision went on I noticed that time passed: weeks, months, and they stayed together. In every town Wolverine would find places where he could fight to make some money, which Rogue would then use to buy groceries and whatever other things they might need. He insisted on them staying the night in motels every so often, so he could rest better than in the cot he'd in the back (though he got a better one after she agreed to stay), and Rogue herself insisted on taking some odd-jobs whenever they stayed some place more than a day in order to contribute to the expenses.

It probably wasn't the kind of life most would have chosen, but it worked for them. Eventually Marie got to see all the places she'd once dreamed off, including the Niagara Falls, the Yukon, and Anchorage in Alaska. Logan seemed to find her delight as the smallest thing entirely fascinating. She appeared to find his mix of chivalry and protectiveness (at time edging into blatant possessiveness) charming in some inexplicable way.

Things got better. A year later Wolverine and Rogue were working private security, short term. He hadn't liked her following him to the dingy bars where he'd fight, or the odd jobs she insisted on taking to contribute to the money. Also, at some point Marie had insisted on having him train her a bit so she'd be better able to protect herself, she'd turned out to be really good at it. The whole 'private security' gig had started almost as an accident. A man had seen Wolverine fight, asked him to protect him while he conducted some business with people on a less-than-safe area of town. Since two people had been needed, Logan refused to work with a mercenary, or worse some newby that would only get in his way, in the end he'd allowed Rogue to go with him (it actually was more complicated than that, Logan had taken a very long time before giving in, but eventually agreed to give it a try). It had gone really well.

They had worked out a modus operandi, after that. Most of the time Rogue would disguise herself in some form and play the part of either PA, arm-candy, or something else that would allow her to stay close to their client, without calling attention onto herself (or the wrong attention, at least), while Wolverine acted as the official bodyguard. He did most of the work, with Rogue only intervening if something completely unexpected happened (or someone got too close). It was a good dynamic; most of the time no one but their client knew she was a bodyguard too. Some of their clients had even asked them to stay on a more permanent basis, but they refused. They never stayed more than a week, perhaps two if the work was good and they liked the place enough (still a lot better than the frequency with which they'd moved during the first six months they'd been traveling together). They stayed mostly on the northern half of the US and Southern Canada, taking a few days off to enjoy places as they wished. Working the way they did allowed them to keep their real names, their past, and especially their mutations a secret, and that was how they preferred it.

One day in late Spring, almost two years after Marie had first run away from her hometown, things changed abruptly yet again, and in the most unexpected way. It was supposed to be like any other mission; but that hadn't lasted. Their client was Senator Kelly, the strongest supporter of the Mutant Registration Act, an initiative that had started five years prior, after the creation of the New Brotherhood of Mutants (which seemed to be trying to take over where the first one had left off in the sixties... back when they all had believed the only way to make things right was through mutant supremacy).

(Things had truly been a mess in recent years, and even the X-Men couldn't stop all the acts of vandalism and downright terrorism being perpetrated by the New Brotherhood and especially its leader, a tall, statuesque woman with long vibrant green hair who called herself Magnetrix).

Rogue wasn't even sure why Wolverine had agreed to the job in the first place, it wasn't like they liked Kelly, or agreed with his ideas. Still, once they'd agreed to it, she wouldn't go back on a job. Which meant that when the Brotherhood attacked, they defended their client.

Things soon became absolutely insane, Rogue was forced to pull off her gloves, while Wolverine revealed her claws. Kelly was evidently shocked to find out his bodyguards were in fact mutants, but there was no time to focus on that. The fight kept going on... and the pair were losing... it all ended abruptly with a bullet to Wolverine's head, and Rogue being kidnapped.

Senator Kelly was looking oddly lost, probably remembering the way he'd been protected, by the very kind of people he'd always seen as less than human, as less than him... He was under no misguided assumptions of what his chances would have been against the New Brotherhood without them. It was the very reason why he'd hired them, even if he hadn't known they were mutants, they were known to be very good at their job... he didn't seem to know how to fit the day's revelation into his own ideas, his own beliefs.

The X-Men arrived at some point, it was a different team than the one I'd gone on missions with back in the seventies and eighties (probably not surprising); the leader was called Cyclops, and I just knew he'd to be related to Alex somehow; there were also Phoenix, Nightcrawler, and a woman I identified as the eldest among the children Peter and Wendy had rescued from that cave in Los Andes, all those years prior, she went by Storm.

Then, the greatest shock of all: Wolverine woke up. Apparently even a bullet to the head wasn't enough to take him down for good. He was almost completely feral, wanting nothing more than to track down Rogue and destroy whoever had taken her. The only thing that managed to get through his mood was Phoenix's announcement that they knew where Magnetrix and the Brotherhood were going.

There was a jump of some indeterminate amount of time, and suddenly I saw the X-Men fighting their way through the Brotherhood, doing all they could to get to Rogue; who was chained to some strange contraption at the base of the Statue of Liberty's torch. She was screaming... she was terrified. And while Magnetrix didn't say a word, I could sense her self-righteousness... she truly believed that what she was doing was somehow right, that her kidnapping and planned sacrifice of Rogue could be justified by some 'greater good'. It almost made me sick.

The battle was very fast, and I could only really pick up on pieces of it. The part I did see though, was when Wolverine broke Rogue free of the machine, only to find she wasn't breathing anymore. And then he did the only thing he could think off, he pulled the glove of the X-Men suit he'd been convinced to wear off, and pressed his open palm on Rogue's face. It took several seconds, but eventually her mutation kicked in and absorbed his...

Another jump, and then I was seeing the X-Men, both the new team and my old friends, my dear family, watching Senator Kelly on the tv... the man was announcing his decision not to support the MRA anymore, recent events had caused him to have a change of heart... Hardly anyone seemed to be able to believe what they were seeing.

Wolverine left Westchester, leaving Rogue behind (I wasn't quite sure how he'd managed that one, exactly). Magnetrix was in jail, as were those of the Brotherhood who hadn't been killed in the confrontation, and one had managed to run away, a feral I hadn't really seen much of, as he'd apparently taken off early in the fight for whatever the reason.

I could tell the moment when my dream/vision shifted from past events, to future ones, and not just because the dark leaves falling off the trees clearly revealed it to be autumn. I got brief flashes first: Nightcrawler and Storm trying to track down some mutant who'd apparently tried to kill the president; Cyclops and Phoenix attending a closed-doors meeting, seeking to convince people in the government and the military that the X-Men should be a recognized paramilitary group; Magneto and Professor X visiting Magnetrix in her prison, wanting to understand why she'd done what she did... and how it was she had the exact same gift as Magneto; Wolverine arriving back to Westchester, to Rogue's obvious delight...

A sense of foreboding was all the warning I got, and then there was a military-grade chopper landing on the estate's lawn, men in military gear, carrying guns... There was the sound of glass breaking, shots, screams... they were attacking the Institute!

The decision was made before I fully woke up. I needed to hurry, there was no time to lose!

Chapter Text

Golden Rose

Warmth, Delight and a Welcome Back, what more can anyone ask for?

The whole school seemed to know the moment I stepped into the Institute. It had taken a while to get the transport into New York, the taxi to Westchester was much easier, and I had noticed the driver giving me a second look when noticing exactly where he was dropping me off. I had no idea how much the locals knew about the Institute, the truth about the alumni and the more extra-curricular activities that took place inside the estate had been a well-kept secret up to the early nineties... but then again, it had been a little over two decades since my leaving, it was obvious that a lot had happened since then.

I was just halfway up the winding driveway when I found myself literally flying back a couple of feet as big tanned wings went around me.

"Sirin!" I cried out in delight.

I could hear her mumbling things quietly into my ear, words expressing how much she'd missed me, how happy she was to see me again. A sentiment I returned completely.

A lot of people were gathered by the mansion's entrance by the time we got there.

"Just what the hell is going on here?" Wolverine demanded in a gruff tone, looking me up and down. "Who are you exactly?"

"Alfdis Eisenhardt." It was the most natural thing for me to retake my old name, as I offered my hand in greeting. "Pleasure to meet you Wolverine..."

"How the hell...?" He began, obviously shocked.

He'd already extended a hand by that point, and the moment we touched I got flashes of his life. Some were things I had seen already, but others went farther back, to the years he'd spent wandering, without a purpose, without a life that could be called his own, to the moment he'd woken up in Three Mile Island, with no memories at all, the dead body of a woman a few feet away, and a young man with a southern accent telling him his name was Logan... and even before that, the procedure that had coated his skeleton in adamantium, the woman he'd loved and lost (twice over, as she was the dead woman who'd been a few feet away from him in the island, though he no longer remembered her by that point... she was also the one to give him the name of Wolverine...), the many years he spent fighting wars, with his brother by his side... his brother, another immortal, a feral.

I gasped as Logan pulled his hand away from mine.

"What the hell?!" He repeated yet again.

"You're Jimmy..." I blurted out, unable to help myself.

"Huh?" Again with the puzzled looks.

We were beginning to call rather a lot of attention, which Sirin immediately noticed, so she told me she'd get my things to my room (I only had the one bag, though that didn't worry me, I was confident a lot of my things from before my leaving would still be around, perhaps even in my room... even if the fashions had certain changed in twenty years, I'd make do until I could do some shopping).

Rogue joined us in the private sitting room, looking around the place after waving a greeting at me (I could tell she remembered me from back when).

"I'd never been in here." She explained as she looked all around. "The place seemed to be off-bounds to most of the school..." She pondered on it for a moment before adding. "Some of the staff and older students call is the Eisenhardt room..."

"I am Alfdis Eisenhardt." I clarified.

"That's not the name you gave me in Canada." She pointed out, though not really upset.

"No, it's not." I agreed. "I told you it was Rose. And it is, I've lived many years and have had many names. Alfdis Eisenhardt is the one I had the last time I lived here, and it's only fitting that I use it again."

"The Prof's partner is called Max Eisenhardt." Rogue added.

"He's my second father." I told her calmly. "Father to a girl I had the privilege of calling sister for twenty-five years..."

"What happened?" Wolverine asked, somewhat bluntly.

"She died." I answered, a bit more scathing than entirely necessary, it really wasn't his fault.

"You called him Jimmy." Rogue decided it was better to change the topic.

"Yes." I nodded, taking a deep breath. "I expect that if I ask if you remember a Victor, the answer will be no... I know you've lost a great many memories..."

"How do you know that?" Wolverine demanded. "How do you know any of it?"

"It's her mutation, or one of them." Rogue intervened. "Remember Logan? I told you about the girl I met briefly in Ontario, the one who can touch me without being affected by my mutation."

To prove a point I extended a hand towards Rogue, who purposefully pulled off one of her gloves before shaking my hand. I could see the happiness she felt at such a simple gesture; could only imagine what something as simple as that, the most basic human contact, meant for her.

"I've gotten better." She informed me with a small smile. "I can touch Logan, and as long as I remain calm, my power doesn't act up. Others I can brush briefly, but if there's skin-to-skin contact for more than a couple of seconds I begin pulling at them. Even if they're not enemies, I cannot seem to be able to help it."

Which meant that either Logan was the only person she felt truly safe with... or there was something else going on. I had no way of knowing for sure which one it was but decided we could focus on that at a later time.

"So he has a brother then?" Rogue pushed on. "Someone called Victor? Have you met him?"

"Yes, his name is Victor." I nodded. "I've met him twice. He's a friend of my brother's. He's very long-lived, self-healing, a feral, much like you, I suppose." I nodded at Wolverine. "Claws do not come from his knuckles, but his nails fulfill essentially the same function. The first time I hardly talked to him, but the second... he told me about his brother James. Jimmy, his half-brother, whom he'd been looking after since they were children."

"Where's this Victor?" Logan wanted to know. "If he's my brother where has he been since I woke up without any memories?"

"I don't know where he is exactly, he comes and goes as he pleases." I shrugged. "Not the kind to stay in one place too long. I think he's allowed his feral side to rule him for too long. The second time I met him, he told me a bit about his past... and between then and today I've seen a few things. The two of you, you used to be very close, always had each other's backs, but in the end he liked violence too much, while you got tired of the endless wars. You ended on opposite sides of an awful situation, just before the loss of your memories..." I couldn't help but remember the moment when they'd stood face to face again, when rage had clouded everything... and then, just before the end, when they'd fought together once more. "I think that, in the end, all he wanted was his brother back. And he wanted it so much, and was so used to fighting to get what he wanted, that he ended making awful decisions, doing bad things. It all blew up in your faces rather spectacularly..."

"You're not going to tell us what happened exactly, are you?" Rogue realized suddenly.

"It's not my place." I explained calmly. "I cannot tell you the story of your own life, that's not how it works. First of all, what guarantee is there that I'll tell you the whole truth? As far as you know I might lie to make things either better or worse, depending on my own convenience, or someone else's. What if I tell you something you don't like? Something you refused to believe even if it's true? What if I understand something wrong? If I've learned something in all the years I've had the Sight, it is that seeing something happen doesn't mean knowing the reasons behind it, knowing the reasons doesn't mean understanding them, and even if some kind of miracle I were to be able to make that out doesn't mean I would ever come close to understanding the person who made the decision that brought about those events..."

"So, bottom line, you won't tell me anything." Wolverine summarized gruffly.

"No." I agreed evenly.

He seemed to think it over for a moment, and I didn't miss the look he directed to Rogue, before turning to face me again.

"I am who I am." He announced finally. "The life I've made for myself the last twenty years, that's the one that really counts. Whatever might have happened before... it's the past and as far as I'm concerned it no longer matters. I might be interested in meeting this Victor... but I've managed pretty well for all these years without him, I can go on the same way."

I nodded. Whatever I might have thought of his decision, in the end it was still his to make. And it's not like I believed it, or him, to be wrong. I had no idea what it was like to be him, to wake up one day with no memories, no past, no friends, no family... effectively no life at all. I treasured the bonds I had with my family (both by blood and by choice), my friends, and had no idea who I would be without them.

xXx

I couldn't help the growing tension as evening grew closer. I watched Sirin, another woman who introduced herself as Miss Honey (she was a telekinetic, and liked her legal name too much to take a mutant one), and some of the students in the last year of high-school guide the younger students to their beds, staying around until they were sure everyone was asleep. Well, everyone except a couple of students who, due to some quirk of their own mutations couldn't truly sleep.

I was sitting at the island, a small glass with the classic Sheridan's before me. I was about to take a drink when Logan and Marie entered the kitchen, having just finished their nightly rounds as they checked that all doors were locked, grounds secured, etc.

"I smell alcohol." Logan announced as he looked straight at my glass. "Where did you get that from? I was told this was a school..."

"This might be a school, but if you stay long enough you'll find out that at least a few of us have our private supplies of certain things." I answered honestly. "Charles favors red wines, vintages, and old scotch; Max prefers martinis, and sometimes vodka; while I'm more inclined towards ice-wines and coffee liquors like the Mexican Kahlúa, and this one, the Sheridan."

"Chuck drinks?" Wolverine asked in apparent disbelief.

I almost snorted, almost, the man had no idea how much Charles could drink... and yet, that was the past. While I'd no doubt that he still enjoyed a drink with Max while playing chess, or perhaps one with Raven, Hank, or other friends while they chatted... there was no need to bring back such a dark episode in their lives...

Logan poured himself a glass of Sheridan, and even Marie took a sip (Logan didn't seem to care if she technically wasn't old enough to drink, while I'd been in so many places I didn't quite remember what the age was supposed to be in the States). We talked about a lot of things, nothing of special importance, for the next half hour or so, until I was interrupted halfway through a story about Lex's first attempt at ranch-chores (the story was second-hand, and I was keeping names out, but the essentials remained), as a shiver ran through my whole body.

"They're here..." I whispered, almost accidentally.

"What...?" Rogue obviously wasn't expecting that.

"Who's here?" Wolverine demanded.

"I don't know who they are exactly." Though I had my suspicions. "They've come to attack the school, and I don't think it's a coincidence that they've come on the very day when all members of the X-Men and the most powerful among the senior staff are absent."

"If you knew they were coming, why didn't you say something earlier, evacuate the students or something?" Wolverine demanded.

"Evacuating would have just delayed a confrontation that needs to take place." I answered dead honestly. "The students, all mutants will only be safe when the threat is taken down for good."

"You do know who's coming." Rogue said suddenly, as picking up on something on my voice.

"I don't know for sure." I clarified. "But I certainly have my suspicions..."

A second shiver ran through my body and I knew it was time to get moving, so I stood from the stool I'd been sitting on, and slipped off my sleeping robe, allowing it to fall at my feet, revealing the fact that beneath it I hadn't been wearing any pajamas, but instead my X-Woman bodysuit. It was different from the ones I'd seen the new generation of X-Men wearing in their most recent mission; mine was still black, but with red and off-white accents, it was also sleeveless and I was wearing my favorite knee-high red boots.

"Also," I added just before leaving the kitchen. "You need not worry about the children, I promise you no one will be getting inside the mansion tonight..."

I didn't say a word when those two followed me out of the mansion, and just directed a quick look at Sirin, keeping watch from her third-floor window. I had told her what was coming, and she trusted me to deliver on my promises, all inside would be safe.

Once outside I took a deep breath and then expanded my senses, allowing to pick up on every single presence in the estate. Even if I wasn't a spell-weaver like my parents, like my sister Helena, some things were just instinctive... I sensed all the people inside the mansion, most were asleep, or close to that. I picked up on the chopper that had just landed, men were jumping off and fanning out, probably intending to surround the mansion, seeking an unguarded entrance. I wasn't going to allow that.

"Trust me..." I whispered, just loud enough to be sure Rogue and Wolverine would hear me.

I took a deep breath, and then allowed my surroundings to seemingly explode into flames. Like a wildfire come out of nowhere. The flames began just behind me and expanded fast, creating a wall all around the mansion.

The men in military gear stopped in their tracks abruptly. It was quite obvious no one had warned them about my power.

And then the leader jumped off the chopper, I knew him instantly, even before the emergency lamps on the lawn illuminated his face.

"So you didn't tell them what they ought to expect..." I murmured in a near-singsong. "Tut tut, you've been remiss in your duties."

"Reports stated you were no longer part of the X-Men." He spat at me.

"That I wasn't living here doesn't mean I ever stopped being one of them, or that anyone here ever stopped being my family." My expression turned almost predatory, I knew it and I didn't care one bit. "I'm sure you remember how much I don't like it when someone goes after those I consider my family..."

"You're just a girl." He scoffed. "What can you possibly do?"

Since I knew that actions spoke longer than words, I didn't answer verbally, instead I threw one hand out, shooting a burst of flames. Men rushed and some even jumped to get out of the way, none of them noticing my actual target until the helicopter blew up. I didn't actually kill anyone, even the pilot had managed to jump out, but still, the message had been sent out, the lines drawn. I was no longer the same person I'd been the last time we'd faced against each other, the girl who threatened yet was too afraid to act, the one who would take a bullet instead of attacking back and making sure no more bullets would be fired... A lot had changed since then.

"You always fascinated me, you know?" Stryker said, almost conversationally. "When I could see past the fact that you ruined my life I realized what an incredible creature you truly are. So much power... and unlike others like your dear Professor, you don't seem to age. You look exactly the same as the last day, that day I shot you..." He shook his head. "For a time I actually believed you to have died in South America that day, along with the speedster. It'd have been so... convenient."

While a part of me had always suspected a connection between Stryker and the event that had killed the twins (and to be fair I also had, and still did suspect, a connection with Hydra), finding out that he really was connected to it, to Peter's death, and Wendy's... it was almost enough to make me snap. Almost, but not quite. I loved Peter, there was no doubt about that, I would always love him, he was my match... and deep inside I believed that one day we'd have another chance, just like Papa got another chance to be with Mama. Still, that didn't erase the fact that before me stood a man who was at least partly responsible for such a chance being needed at all. It angered me, yet I didn't lose myself to the rage. I'd made my peace with the loss of Peter years prior, and that allowed me to keep my head, even as I contemplated the best way to make the bastard pay for all the pain he'd caused, not only to me, but to many others I loved too.

"And then the rumors started, a few years ago, the Rose of Chaos was on the move." Stryker went on. "Some even seem to believe you've been recruiting... mind telling me what for?"

"It doesn't matter." I told him calmly. "You won't be around to see it anyway."

I made the choice right then. William Stryker was too dangerous a man to let live. He kept coming after us, he kept hurting people I cared for. And we'd been lucky thus far, that luck would not hold forever. He had to go. I didn't actually intend to kill him, there were a lot of things I could have done to him, to make sure he wouldn't be able to go after us again, without outright getting his blood on my hands (figuratively or literally). It wasn't like I couldn't kill, but it still wasn't my first choice, it'd never be. Even if I knew such actions sometimes were necessary, they were always the last resource, not the first.

"I used to think no creature could be as fascinating as you." Stryker continued in the same tone. "Even the Wolverine, savage animal and excellent killer than he is couldn't compare... and then I found her... my Lady Deathstrike."

Wolverine, who'd been about to throw himself at the men still awaiting orders (probably bored with Stryker's posturing), froze when Stryker mentioned him. As did I when I saw the woman step forward. Her clothes were much tighter than the ones being worn by the men, and the moment she dropped into a stance and her nails grew way too much for it to be natural I realized what exactly she was supposed to be...

It was sickening, I could sense the void inside her, she wasn't thinking for herself, wasn't there by her own choice. She was being used as a puppet; and yet the situation we were all in meant I... we couldn't take it easy on her. Too many lives would be at stake if something went wrong. Also, I had no idea how he was controlling the mutant woman, what if he used it on someone else? It was doubtful that it'd work on me, but what about my friends, my family? That couldn't be allowed to happen, ever.

"You're a monster." I spat at the other man.

It was as if we all chose to move at the same time. Deathstrike threw herself in my direction, but before a single nail could touch me Wolverine was upon her, and that fight began. Rogue, for her part, decided to take on the other men. I gave her a hand with a rush of fire, (enough to blow off a few people and knock them out, without killing anyone), before focusing completely on Stryker. He either didn't care, or he'd a very good poker face. In the end it was the same to me.

A shot broke the silence, loudly. For a moment Stryker looked he was readying himself to celebrate, until he realized that he wasn't getting the expected result. There was no blood, I wasn't falling dead. I simply waved one hand, directing what looked almost like a whip made of living flames, which effectively melted half of the handgun in his hand.

"That won't work this time." I told him evenly. "This is as far as you're getting, Stryker."

"You cannot stop me." He insisted. "Sooner or later my men, or my Lady Deathstrike will kill your men, and then they will kill you. And once you're dead everyone inside the mansion will be at our mercy."

"That will never happen." I hissed at him, and threw myself at him.

The fight against William Stryker was like no other fight I'd been in before. Stryker didn't have the finesse and show of ancient styles that people like Batman, Brainiac (with all the knowledge he'd stolen from the web), and men from various tribes across the world had demonstrated; nor the wildness and near-desperation I remembered from the would-be Doomsday... and yet he was still strong, very precise and not a little vicious.

It would have been so easy to burn him. Turn my fire on him and leave nothing but ashes... but doing so would have required enough of my concentration I'd have needed to drop the defense I had around the mansion. Also, I knew that not all the kids were really asleep, and some might yet wake up... I really, really didn't want them to see me kill someone, for them to then look at me and see a killer. The prospect that they might fear me terrified me, it reminded me of my little Mary, my little Skye, and how she never knew the truth about me.

And so we fought, I was vaguely aware of Rogue as she methodically took down all the mercs, incapacitating but never killing; Wolverine was fighting Deathstrike and he seemed to be having a hard time of it (probably because of how similar their abilities were), and there was someone else in the grounds... someone I knew but couldn't remember right then.

"Why doesn't it work?" Stryker demanded unexpectedly. "Why isn't it working?!"

It took me a few seconds to realize he was talking to me (or more like shouting at me... but still), he was livid.

"Why isn't what working?" I asked, confused.

"The blocker!" He shouted.

I didn't realize it then, but apparently he'd created something that was meant to stop mutations from working in a certain area when active. It didn't extend much (which was a good thing, as I didn't want to think what would have happened to Wolverine...), but it did work, he'd had it tested. Of course, it didn't work on me, and he didn't understand why.

I just laughed, refusing to give him an answer (not like I was about to explain how I wasn't a mutant... and how much worse that made me...). Instead I kept fighting him. And he kept getting more and more furious, and desperate... I should have remembered what Lex used to say about desperate men doing desperate things...

I managed to throw Stryker down with a well-placed kick, when he took advantage of it to pull out a small gun he kept on his ankle holster. He shot. At first I believed the shot to have been too wild, too wide, he hadn't even been aiming... or more precisely, he hadn't been aiming at me...

We all heard a quiet gasp and I couldn't help but turn around, just in time to watch Rogue, hands on her stomach, even as her blood began slipping through her fingers, an expression of complete shock, a second before she dropped to the grass.

"Marie!" Wolverine practically howled, a sound so primal I couldn't help the rush of adrenaline that went through me.

The distraction cost me.

I wasn't sure how it happened exactly, but suddenly I found myself on the ground, face down, right arm twisted at the small of my back, left held down forcefully and one knee digging in the middle of my back, making it hard to breathe. It took all my concentration not to let the flame-wall fall, but I knew I couldn't allow it too.

I knew more students had woken, a few were yelling from inside the mansion, some in fright, others wanting to join the fight... and I imagine that if anyone could see us a few might be afraid of what they were seeing too.

I couldn't allow the shield to fall... and yet if I was kept in the same position for much longer I might blackout, and that would undoubtedly pull at my instincts, calling fire to me, quite possibly killing Stryker, yet at the same time leaving the school vulnerable, which couldn't be allowed. Not with Deathstrike and... whoever else was around, still there.

And then it all changed, like the flip of a switch. The sound that reached my ears was loud, sharp, and awful enough to make me cringe, the sound of a neck being broken. It wasn't an easy thing to do, regardless of how it might look in some action movies. I realized who's neck had been broken exactly a second later, when there was suddenly no more pressure on me, only dead-weight falling limply at my side.

My reaction was instinctive, as I extended my arm and then rolled to the opposite side of the dead body, soon I was on my back, and looking straight at my savior...

"Victor?!" I blinked, not quite believing what I was seeing.

"Little wildflower..." He greeted me by his preferred nickname. "Now this is interesting..."

"You saved my life." I said mater-of-factly as I stood. "Thank you."

"Sorry to burst your bubble princess." He said, in a tone that left it quite clear he wasn't sorry at all. "But I ain't do it for ya."

We both turned in the same direction at the same time, to where Logan was cradling a half-conscious Marie. Her hands were still quite bloody, but she wasn't bleeding anymore... it took me a second to realize it:

"Seems the little lady has copied Jimmy's powers permanently." Victor said it out-loud. "Good, that means she'll be sticking around. Sure will make things interesting."

"So... you came here with Stryker, and then you killed him." I was trying to get my head around that idea, as Victor didn't strike me as whimsical.

"Never liked the bastard." Victor shrugged a bit. "For a while he was convenient. Jimmy and I couldn't keep moving around forever. We stayed around him, and he let us let loose. And then Jimmy decided he didn't want to live like that anymore. Thought he had to be insane for sure. Didn't understand what the hell could be so good about living in the fuck end of nowhere, chopping wood every day..."

"And do you see it now?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Maybe." He shrugged again. "Sure as hell wouldn't do it myself. But I suppose it was his choice, he was never meant to live the life of a wanderer forever... I still say the bitch didn't deserve him though, too weak, too easy to manipulate, even against Jimmy." He sneered at the ghost of the long-dead woman I still remembered from my visions. "The little-lady on the other hand, that one has a core of adamantium, will serve her well, and Jimmy as well."

"He goes by Logan now." I couldn't help put point out.

"I know." His words told me what I'd already suspected, even if he'd stayed away, he'd been keeping an eye on his brother all along. "Perhaps one day he'll remember that name is mine too."

He didn't say anymore, just turned around and walked away. I didn't try to stop him, knowing fully well there was no point. Victor came and went as he wished. Perhaps one day he'd return, and hopefully then he and Logan would get the chance to talk, to make things right between them, whether Logan ever remembered his past or not. Who knew? Maybe one day they might even get the chance to be family again...

xXx

Charles, Max and the new generation of X-Men arrived in the course of the following morning. Raven and Irene too dropped by (they were heading the Massachusetts Academy and had been for more than a decade). Hank made a short call to say hello and express his happiness at my return, he was living in Washington, lobbying and doing his best to counter the bad-will the New Brotherhood seemed to cause among humans, though Senator Kelly's change of heart a few months early had certainly helped a lot. Sean, Alex and Darwin were living in Europe and wouldn't be able to visit in a while, as they, and Moira (who'd since retired from the CIA), were heading yet another mutant school, this one in Scotland).

When they all heard what had happened the night before, no one really regretted Stryker's death (I knew that Max and Raven at least were glad for it), arrangements were being made to make sure authorities would pick up the mercs., and know what they had done exactly. The only death that we did regret was that of Lady Deathstrike, while Wolverine had had little choice, especially when he saw Rogue fall (even if he did know she had his power and would survive), his instincts had demanded he destroy his enemy. We also had no way of knowing if whatever Stryker had done to control her could be undone safely or not.

Plans were already being made to track down Stryker's base (we had no idea where it was, not for sure, though I was betting on Three Mile Island... Charles and Max were sure it would be Alkali Lake, the place where Wolverine had gotten his claws).

"I cannot help but wonder," Max said suddenly. "Do you have some kind of magic that calls danger towards you or something?"

Some people laughed, even Charles, and while I myself did as well, a part of me thought the idea over. I was no sorceress and yet... what were the chances of something (a lot of somethings) happening in Kansas (the middle of rural Kansas, to be precise) of all places, exactly when I was there? Or maybe, maybe I didn't exactly call danger, and chaos towards me, but it was more like they (or the potential for them) called me?

*Interesting hypothesis...* Charles offered with a mental smile.

I just smiled at him, even as I made sure he wouldn't be able to access the memories of my time in Kansas. I would protect those people, the other branch of my huge family, and their secrets, just like I'd protected those of the ones before me in that very moment. Charles noticed and just smiled at me even as he pulled away from my mind. He was too polite to pry, he knew things would be revealed when the time was right, and by the correct people.

"So, what have you been doing then?" Max asked eventually.

"Yes," Raven agreed wholeheartedly. "Tell us everything."

"Only if you do the same." I said in return.

And so, story time began.

xXx

Just a few days later another piece of trouble paid us a visit, in the form of Maria Hill, Deputy-Director of SHIELD. Max and Charles had apparently had quite the eventful day, while visiting Magnetrix... whose legal name was actually Lorna Dane; as they tried to learn more about her, her reasons for wanting to continue with Magneto's legacy of mutant supremacy and hate for the humans, and the New Brotherhood (and also the question of how she had the exact same power as Magneto). Of course, at the time she hadn't known that one of the men she was talking to was, in fact, Magneto himself.

"It was exhausting." Max admitted at one point. "Seeing her, remembering the man I used to be... the monster I used to be. Who I'd still be if it weren't for Charles, for Anya, for you Alfdis..."

I smiled, glad to have had at least a small part in that. Even if I'd told Charles that I'd done it all for him; getting involved, helping him, and then Max... that was true, and yet, I'd always been able to see Max's potential. Charles had been my priority, because he was my friend, he was family even before I took Max's name and became his daughter; and yet even before I knew who he was, his connection to my beloved sister, I knew he could be a lot more than what he allowed himself to be... a lot better. And I was right. Both Charles and I were.

They still didn't know how Lorna had her powers, as both her parents had been human (they'd died in a plane accident when she was a little girl), though she remembered her father shouting accusations at her mother just before the end, accusations that made her consider the possibility that her mom: Susanna Dane, might have cheated on her dad... That was the theory, of course, except that Max could assure them all categorically that he'd never been with any woman called Susanna. Also, at the time of Lorna's conception and birth Max was already at Westchester and in a stable, strong, and very happy relationship with Charles.

In any case, that wasn't the part that caused us all trouble. No, as it turned out Stryker had sent another of his minions (controlled mutants) to get rid of Magnetrix and the members of her Brotherhood imprisoned at the time; and why not, get rid of Professor X and his partner too. Of course, neither of the leaders of the American Mutant Community (it wasn't an official title, because the mutant community wasn't legally recognized yet, but still) was keen on allowing that. So they'd fought, in the process revealing the nature of Max's mutation.

And that was the cause of our troubles.

Maria Hill arrived to the Institute two weeks after Stryker's last attack; and she wasn't alone, but accompanied by three agents. Charles, Max, Jean and I all picked up on their arrival the moment they crossed the gates, though I was the first who realized what their intentions were, visions were not even necessary.

"By the authority granted to me as Deputy Director of the Strategic, Homeland, Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, by the United States government, I'm here to arrest Erik Lehnsherr, aka Magneto." The woman stated in an authoritative tone.

We all reacted as one, even though we'd never practiced, with the X-Men taking a discreet formation in between the Agents and their leaders, I decided to pull attention to myself:

"Is this some kind of joke?" I asked in a drawl. "You do know Erik Lehnsherr has been dead for forty years, don't you?"

"I don't have time for games, miss." Hill said stoically. "The man you call Max Eisenhardt. We know he's really Erik Lehnsherr, and we're here to arrest him."

"And you think we'll let you?" Another voice called.

Suddenly we were no longer the ones in the foyer, the senior class was present, and they were all ready to fight.

"Mutant or not, you're all American citizens and thus bound to our laws." Another of the agents (Jasper Sitwell, my powers whispered in the back of my head) stated in an almost derisive tone. "You will follow orders."

"Yeah... no." Several voices called at once.

"The American Government doesn't want us, doesn't respect us, so why should we follow whatever orders they give?" Sirin asked with a hint of steel.

"And the same applies to SHIELD." Honey added for good measure.

"It's quite simple." Sitwell announced. "Either you release Lehnsherr into our custody or..."

"Or what?" I challenged, stepping forward. "You'll set your military dogs on us, again?"

Everyone could see the way my eyes flashed, which caused the two lesser agents (nothing more than minions, there more for a show of power than anything else; not that it was helping any, but still). Sitwell looked at me nervously, but refused to back down, while I could sense something from Hill, like a mix of tension and something else I couldn't quite point out.

"Please don't pretend you have no idea what I'm speaking of." I went on quietly but strongly. "You are all perfectly aware of what Stryker and his hired guns, including one of our own, brainwashed into serving him, attempted to do just two weeks ago."

"And you killed him..." Sitwell began.

"I did not." I cut him off calmly. "Not saying I wouldn't have done it, if it had been absolutely necessary. But I wasn't the one who killed him. He was actually trying to do that to me when someone else did him in, saving my life in the process."

"And who was this person?" Sitwell asked, obviously interested.

"None of your business." Wolverine interfered bluntly.

"We're not here concerning William Stryker." Hill interrupted because we could get distracted. "We're here to put Max Eisenhardt under arrest."

"You're getting nowhere near him." I hissed at her, allowing my aura to shine briefly, so she would have an idea just how out of her league she was.

"Who the hell are you?" Sitwell demanded, obviously not liking the way I stood up for my family, or against him.

"Alfdis Eisenhardt." Hill answered for me, obviously having recognized me, probably from old footage or records. "The Rose of Chaos... and one of Max Eisenhardt's daughters."

I waited for some mention of Anya to be made, but at least it seemed they knew better than to try that. One wrong word and blood would have probably been spilled.

"Erik Lehnsherr, Magneto, was arrested, arraigned and convicted of multiple accounts of murder in 1963, including that of President Kennedy." Maria Hill stated in her most even tone. "He belongs in prison."

"Yeah..." I deadpanned. "Exactly where William Stryker, Bolivar Trask and anyone who's ever worked with them have belonged since, at least, the 70s, yet they're not there, are they? Cannot say I trust this country's justice system when it comes to gifted...or those who've wronged them."

"He's guilty..." Sitwell began.

"Says who?" Several voices interrupted him. "You?"

Hill opened her mouth to say something else (or probably the same thing, just with different words) when someone else interfered.

"You will not be taking my grandfather."

It was Nina. My niece, Anya Willow's daughter. She was no longer the little girl I had known before leaving Westchester, and not only because of all the years that had passed, her hair was a darker red than Anya's had ever been, and her bone-structure reminded me more of Wendy than of my own beloved sister... and yet it was in her eyes, in her stance, in her very aura, she was Anya's daughter, her legacy...

"Who are you?" Sitwell asked, obviously tired of the standoff.

"I am Nina Eisenhardt-Reynolds, lawyer, I specialize in mutant law." My niece announced.

"There's no such thing as 'mutant law'." Sitwell spat.

"No." Nina shrugged. "There will probably be, once you humans stop acting like we'll all just disappear if you ignore us long enough. In any case, I studied law, and all my clients are mutants, or involved in cases connected to mutants. I'm one of few lawyers in this country that can be trusted to treat them fairly, and not to be intimidated by those who would rather we all just drop dead or something."

"So you're coming here to tell you'll be representing Erik Lehnsherr?" Hill asked, confused. "It's not like there will be a trail, he's already been convicted."

"No, I'm here to tell you, you're not taking him anywhere, legally, you can't." Nina announced.

I wasn't expecting that, it was obvious no one was. And then Nina went into a very elaborate speech I couldn't quite follow word for word. The important part was that when the government released Erik into Trask's custody they were effectively releasing him from imprisonment, like granting him a pardon. It was how they 'washed their hands' from what they all knew Trask would be doing to him. So Erik had been legally pardoned of all crimes back in 1973... I hadn't known that, none of us had.

"Even if you decide to ignore that." Nina went on. "We have more than enough proof to question Magneto's guilt in President Kennedy's assassination..."

"Please, everyone knows he did it!" Sitwell interrupted, to dark looks from everyone present, even his own superior.

"You mean just like SHIELD has known about Stryker's illegal experiments on mutants at least since the nineties yet did nothing to stop him?" The words left my mouth before I could even process them... it was something I myself hadn't really known before saying it. "SHIELD knows about all of that, about him, have known for decades, and they did nothing!"

No one seemed to quite know what to say to that.

"So, again, you will not be taking anyone." Mystique summarized, on alert and ready to fight if need be, we all were. "Not today, and not on any other day."

"You know what I find interesting." I said almost conversationally. "How quick you are to turn on people you once called allies, simply because you don't find them, us, convenient anymore. Though I'm quite sure the next time you need our help you'll act like we've always been friends."

"As if we'd ever need you!" Sitwell scoffed.

Most of us snorted, a few even laughed.

"Really?" I challenged, then turned to Hill. "Why don't you ask your boss what really happened in 1962... he wasn't around back then, but if he's any good, he must know. Then we'll talk about who needs who..."

Neither of the agents present that day returned afterwards. A part of me really wished I could have been a fly on the wall when Hill (and possibly Sitwell) learned the truth of what humans called simply the 'Cuban Missile Crisis'. However, even my Sight couldn't grant that, probably because it wasn't something I really needed to know...

Once the Agents were gone we all turned to Max and Charles, only then realizing why exactly neither man had interfered through the whole debacle. Max had actually tried, and been stopped by Charles (without his powers, neither men would ever abide by that). In the end Max could only look at us all, but especially at the students in wonder. He would have probable expected Nina and I as family, and even the X-Men to have his back, but the rest of the students... they knew who he really was, it'd been a requirement of his... and yet he never expected them all to rush to his defense so readily. Even those like Honey, who despite her prodigious skill with her telekinesis refused to be a fighter, to be an X-Woman, she'd stood there, willing to fight to protect Max. I could feel how humbled that made not just Max himself, but Charles, feel.

"We're family, Zaideh (Grandfather)." Nina summarized everyone's feelings as she smiled at him. "We'll always stand together."

"Together we're strong." I added for good measure.

xXx

What followed was some quite eventful months, and as much as I'd enjoyed the relative peace of a solitary life, traveling through the world at my own pace, owing no one anything at all, depending on no one and nothing... truth was I'd felt lonely, a loneliness than only the belief that the family I'd left in Kansas were probably safer with me gone, and not being quite sure if I was yet ready to face returning to the family in Westchester, had allowed me to bare. In the end, there was nothing in need to be faced, we were family, simple as that.

In fact, at the time when Nina had made her appearance and used her Law Degree to expertly take down SHIELD's agents piece by piece, I'd been about ready to drop pretenses, use another of my names and explain to them just how much influence I could wield. I wasn't exactly a fan of name-dropping but I knew my Kansas family wouldn't mind, and surely between Lex and Trish Swann-Luthor, Bruce Wayne and Senator Kent (federal Senator, actually) I'd have managed something... Thankfully that wasn't necessary.

There was a bit of a mess in the weeks following SHIELD's visit. They'd gotten careless and the truth about Erik Lehnsherr being alive had come out; of course Nina was ready before any member of law enforcement could so much as think about paying us a visit. It all ended with a very public recognition of Erik's status as a 'pardoned' man, and a reminder of how sick and twisted Bolivar Trask was.

He was actually dead, as we found out then. Had been killed by one of Stryker's brainwashed minions at some point. Still, his nephew and heir had been trying to get close to the president, which our mess thankfully put a stop to. Also, the whole thing somehow ended with Hank being appointed as a sort of Mutant Liaison with the White House; and while it wasn't written down anywhere, the country was beginning to recognize that Professor X and Magneto were, indeed, the leaders of the Mutant Community.

When the whole political mess was finally over we celebrated in a way few could have expected: Charles and Erik got married. Even though it had been legal since 2012 they hadn't done it, and while no one came out and said it, a part of me knew that my absence had been a factor. I was Erik's last daughter, and while Nina was there, and in many ways she was more of a reminder, a legacy of Anya and the twins that I'd ever be... I was part of the family too. An important part. Django was gone, we'd never been able to find him; even I in all my travels had never succeeded; and in 2007 Charles had felt the bond he had with him (he had slight bonds with all of us, which kept us tethered, even when he couldn't truly contact us) snap. Django was dead.

There was some argument about where they should marry, and who exactly should marry them. Mutants weren't too accepted just yet, which made things harder. In the end I got Ordained and performed the ceremony myself (it was just easier that way), and we did it in the Institute. It was a simple, beautiful ceremony, during which I'd a brief but powerful vision, which explained why Charles and Erik hadn't exactly been in a rush to get married... they'd had their own very private ceremony just after the first Yarzheit for the twins; a ceremony that had included the Ancient Vows... it was also how the two of them had come to be bound, not just in soul, but in mind (I'd noticed that they were always in each other's heads, but hadn't realized the reason for that).

Also, the wedding of those two was closely followed by Raven's and Irene's. While Raven had never been interested in marriage, seeing Irene's face as I'd married the other two had made her realize Irene probably did like the idea, and so they'd gone through with it.

An offer was made to Logan and Marie, who'd become lovers right after her eighteenth birthday, but neither of them were interested in marriage. They knew they were together, and they were faithful to each other, a paper changed nothing.

Early 2014 had us receiving a visit from Loki and his Nightingale, my parent's younger selves... I purposefully made myself scarce, not wanting to risk them seeing me, and it was until that night that Sirin told me how things had gone. She had been the one to recognize them, going as far as calling Mama Canary... until Charles had telepathically explained the situation to her. Allowing it all to be pushed aside as a mistake... though at least some people in the Institute knew the truth. I wondered how long it'd taken Mama to realize the truth, that there had never been a mistake. I had no idea, and something told me it was important, at least for them.

July was a bit of a hard month, when I spent three weeks straight getting hardly any sleep, as the moment I closed my eyes I was swallowed by the longest, most complex set of visions I'd ever experienced. Event after event, trials and tribulations, lifetime after lifetime... it actually took me nearly a week straight to realize that despite the different faces, different places, different lives, they were the same two souls. Time and again, two souls, a perfect match...

Even then it wasn't easy, I kept trying and failing at seeing the point in all the visions, the reason why I was seeing all that... it got to the point when I'd lose time, get so deep into the visions that I didn't notice time passing by. One such time others got worried enough that Jean slipped into my head to bring me out; she ended seeing a lot of what I'd dreamed, and she was the one who realized what I was missing:

"The mistakes." She explained once we were both back in the waking world. "In every lifetime something huge happens, and they make a mistake in how they handle it, they never recover after that. Until they die, are reborn, and do it all over again..."

"But they're a match." I blurted out, trying to wrap my head around it.

"I'm not sure if they're aware of that." Jean admitted, seemingly thoughtful. "And in any case, I think that every mistake can be traced down to trust, or lack thereof. And without trust there can be no true love..."

I wasn't sure if the image came to my mind on its own, or if she projected it, but it was suddenly there: a dark-haired man in a Belstaff coat was standing on the edge of a rooftop, a mobile phone in his hand, eyes turned down bellow, on the street level, a blonde man in a button up, jumper, jeans and jacket, both looking so absolutely heartbroken...

It hit me all at once, with the force of a lightning-bolt. I knew the blonde man, I'd seen him before, before the previous month... I'd sent my parents to him almost two years prior! And, of just slightly less importance, that image I'd just seen: it hadn't happened yet. Which meant there was still time to stop it. To keep those two souls, those perfect soulmates from making the exact same mistake... again.

The moment I made my choice, Jean knew it, and after her Scott (they were together, after all, had been for a long time, more than a decade, in fact), and soon the rest of the X-Men were aware. It was Charles who insisted I take the jet, Ororo had even offered to pilot it. I thought it was insane, beyond that even. It's not like I was going on a mission, to save the worlds, or even a mutant, it had nothing to do with them at all!

"You're going to save them." Charles explained to me quietly. "You are going to save them from themselves, from their own mistakes... just like you saved us, all those years ago..."

I hadn't seen it that way before. Hadn't expected Charles (and even Erik, though he wouldn't say it) to feel some kind of odd kinship with two men they'd never met, simply because they'd been in my visions, because they needed help, and I'd chosen to try and do exactly that, much like I chose to do for Charles and Erik back in 1973...

The trip didn't take long. Though if I was honest with myself, even as I arrived to London I hadn't the slightest idea of how exactly I would achieve what needed to be done. Neither man knew me, they'd no reason to trust me (they were failing at truly trusting each other! Which was the core of the problem!). So I went to Mama and Papa. I was just one step away from losing it by then, so full of desperation caused by the neverending visions (I made the mistake of falling asleep on the flight). I'm not even sure what I said to them in the end, the exact words I used... but they believed me, they trusted me, helped me...

I stayed just long enough to witness the very scene I'd seen in my head while talking with Jean, happening just before my eyes, and for a moment I thought I'd failed, that we'd all failed, and then another vision came, and I realized what I was missing: it was all a magic trick...

I dropped by for quick lunch with my parents, and then was back on the blackbird and en-route to New York again. Ororo and Kurt (her lover) were thrilled about having helped, even if it was just by piloting the plane and I myself was happy. Even if I hadn't the slightest idea of why exactly those two, their bond, were so important for the future of the world (and deep down I couldn't help but think that even if they hadn't been, given the chance I'd still have done my best to help them; because two people who loved each other as much as they did certainly deserved it).

xXx

2015 brought its own challenges. Thankfully the Convergence was on the other side of the Atlantic, so nothing about that really touched us. We had enough with our own troubles, really.

A DNA test had revealed that, at least biologically, Erik was Lorna's father. Since we all knew precisely where Erik had been at the time Lorna had been conceived (and it certainly wasn't in France, where Susanna had been), other avenues needed to be considered. And then we found out about the kind of things that had been done to Erik while imprisoned in the Pentagon, the tests, and more importantly, the samples that had been taken from him: blood, tissue, fluids (including semen...). The samples had been handled by one of TS's top scientists, one who'd left by the time Howard used his own company to destroy Trask's: Nathaniel Essex.

We didn't know what kind of experiments he'd been doing exactly, if he'd tried to create some kind of clone, or at least a successor for Magneto, or instead someone capable of defeating him. What we did know was that, somehow, Lorna was the result of those experiments.

Of course Lorna didn't like it, learning she was the result of some crazy-ass doctor's experiments. It made her doubt everything, the choices she'd made, the life she'd chosen, the person she'd become. Because if Essex had intended for her to take Magneto's place all along, was it ever her choice at all, or had she been programmed to it? She couldn't change the past, in the end all she could do was erase Magnetrix and everything she represented, and hope for a new start. Lorna would serve her time for the crimes she'd committed, and one day she'd come out; and hopefully she would then get a second chance, to make things right... she even had a new mutant name already in mind: Polaris.

And then we got a warning, from one of Nina's lawyer-friends, a Mr. Murdock, he'd apparently heard some rumors, Worthington Labs was planning something... something not-good for mutants. There was a certain urgency in the message, one that I instinctively felt, which made us all immediately turn to all our contacts, until one of Raven's eventually panned out, a woman called Calypso dropped by the Institute just briefly to let us know that Worthington Labs was getting ready to launch a 'mutant cure'; and not just that, but the first to receive it would be none other than Mr. Worthington's son and heir, a mutant himself.

I could feel Charles's horror the moment he heard the news, and I knew the reason. Once upon a time he'd known Warren II, had known him when he was a boy, while Warren I had been a childhood friend, almost like an older cousin (they were actually somewhat distantly related). To think that Warren III was a mutant and Charles hadn't known; and not only that, but that work was being done, had been done for years to purposefully cancel mutations... It was, in many ways, the worst nightmare of many of us come true.

"This cannot be allowed. If it is... it would be the beginning of the end."

None of us paid attention who said it first, it didn't matter, we all agreed. And so we got to work. I was no good at law, and couldn't exactly go to Hakon, and while I did consider briefly phoning Bruce, or maybe Ms. Dawes, in the end I knew it wasn't a good idea to get my lives mixed up, not just yet. They were a secret, and it needed to stay that way until Hydra played their hand, for all of our sakes, it was simply better that way. So instead we each focused on our strengths and tried to help in any way we could.

In the end the solution was quite simple, if somewhat subjective. Whatever Worthington Labs might have created they couldn't call it a cure, because mutation wasn't a sickness. That statement brought the beginning of what was probably the biggest and most publicized legal battle of the decade. Nina of course was leading our side, with a few of her friends providing backup as necessary. It didn't matter who was mutant, baseline, or something else entirely. We were all on the same side.

Perhaps the decisive moment was when Warren Worthington III was placed on the stand, we all knew the intention was for him to show his shame at his mutation (which I thought was insane, his wings were beautiful!), his desire to be human, to be 'cured'. Nina had been coached by Raven (not that he needed much coaching, but still) on the whole 'mutant and proud' philosophy, hoping that if we managed to change Warren's mind that might tilt the balance in our favor.

In the end, it wasn't necessary, because in the most unexpected moment ever (I hadn't gotten even an inkling that something like that would happen... wasn't sure even the boy himself made his mind until he went and acted): Warren divested himself of his coat, broke the harness keeping his wings in place, opening them to their full length before everyone in court and then, when the judge asked 'Warren Worthington III' to take a seat, he announced his name was Angel...

The whole thing fell through shortly afterwards. After all, what hope had Worthington Sr. of convincing anyone of his serum when his one son rejected the idea, was proud to be a mutant, and directly blamed his father for his inability of seeing his wings as the gift they were before? Angel was also the one delivering the 'coup de grace', when he informed everyone present the true origins of the serum: a young boy's DNA.

Suddenly it was no longer about keeping Worthington Labs from promoting their serum as a 'cure', and he and his group were being charged with everything from child endangerment, illegal scientific practices, illegal experimentation, etc... The boy, Jimmy, Leech, was retrieved from the facility in Alcatraz immediately and placed in the custody of the Xavier Institute. By the time we left court that day Charles was already planning on teaching the boy some meditation techniques, believing that might help him control when he nullified other mutations; while most didn't really care about it, there were a few for whom losing it might be dangerous (like Wolverine, without his extraordinary healing and enhanced body he would never be able to survive the adamantium fused to his skeleton).

Angel also joined the Institute, being made welcome by everyone. He didn't quite understand Charles's apologies, had no idea of the connection their families had once had; still, he was quite happy to be there, much happier than he'd probably been in his whole life...

"I... I just cannot believe it's come to this." Charles admitted, running a hand through his bald head (I hadn't been around when he'd finally lost his hair... it suited him, somehow). "It makes me wonder if the intolerance is just in Angel's father or... what about Warren? The first Warren I mean, the man I saw as my cousin, as my friend... If he had known about us, about me, would he have reacted like Angel's father?"

"Oh Charles..." Raven, the only one of us who had actually known Warren I, spoke. "Warren... he changed a lot, after his stint in Korea. I know not how he'd have reacted to you being a mutant; but maybe things are as they are for a reason... if you never told him."

"I never told him because Howard's reaction discouraged me from it." Charles admitted. "My original plan was to tell both Howard and Warren, I hoped to get their support when I started the Institute. But Howard's attitude... it made me change my mind."

I vaguely heard Erik muttering some choice words about Howard and suddenly I couldn't handle it anymore. I'd been keeping that secret for so long, and it pained me, to hear others insult a man I'd seen as a beloved uncle, whom I'd always care for, who had died with people believing him to be cold, cruel, and so many more things... I couldn't stand it anymore. I also remembered Mama telling me once how Uncle Howard made her promise that once the overlap was over she would find Tony, tell him the truth, he'd never intended for the lies to stand forever. Well, perhaps it was time for another to be set right:

"Uncle Howard was a lot of things, but he wasn't a bad man." I cut Erik off strongly, then, before he could say anything, I pushed on. "All the things he said to Charles, and to everyone else, were planned, carefully calculated to get the intended result."

"Which was what?" Erik demanded. "Keep the mutant race subjugated?"

"Keep you all safe!" I snapped in return.

No one seemed to know what to say to that.

I took a deep breath, looking straight at Charles, willing to see my own memories as I explained things out-loud for the benefit of everyone else:

"Uncle Howard knew about Cuba." I began. "The leader of Division X was an old friend of his, or something like that. It was Uncle who convinced Platt to destroy all records of you from back then, even before Shaw attacked the facility. It was why no one aside from Moira's bosses and Stryker knew about you before the X-Men presented themselves to the government in Paris, in '73." I let out a breath "When you went to see him... He thought you were insane. The way you began revealing things so easily... What if he'd really been a mutant hater? With the power he had, he could have destroyed you, all of you. He thought you trusted too easily, and was afraid of where that trust would lead you, what would happen when you trusted the wrong person. Like the Worthingtons..."

"He adopted the attitude those people would take." Nina murmured in understanding. "To stop the Professor from trying that approach again."

"Yes." I nodded. "Hakon called it 'being cruel to be kind'..." I shook my head. "Where do you think the yearly donations came from?"

That appeared to be simply one shock too many, and not just for him.

"Those donations ended in '92, after a huge one." Irene remembered. "It was the money we used to open the Massachusetts Academy..."

"The donations ended when he died, though he did leave a clause in his will, for one last one." I pointed out. "It was concealed, only his attorney and I knew of it, and even then, only I knew where the money was going, exactly. It was done that way to keep you all safe."

"Tony... he doesn't know, does he?" Erik wanted to know.

"He didn't back then." I shrugged. "He probably still doesn't. I know Uncle Howard made Mama promise she'd tell him the truth once the time overlap was over... but that won't be until June of next year. So maybe at that point he will know... also, even Mama doesn't know all of it, Hakon and I were the ones who really talked to Uncle Howard about it."

If Mama didn't know enough to tell Tony, I would; he deserved to know the kind of man his father really was.

"So what, Howard Stark acted like a prick to protect us?" Raven demanded, seemingly trying and not quite managing to get her head around it.

"It's a way of putting it." I nodded. "Then there was Maria, his wife... I'm not sure if any of you know this. But she was a refugee during WWII. Her father was a Jew, he died in one of the camps; the only reason Maria and her mother did not end in the same place was because her mother wasn't a Jew, and she used that to get both of them to America before the worst of the war. Uncle Howard met her during some charity event years later, fell in love, married her. Maria was not a bad woman, but she was terrified of Magneto and his Brotherhood, of what they might one day do, she well... she..."

"She saw me as another Hitler." Erik finished for me, expression blank.

I didn't dare say a word to that, though I was sure they all knew the answer.

It was awful, especially when one considered all Erik himself had gone through as a young teen; how those experiences had pushed him into becoming Magneto, his wish to make sure his 'new' people (mutants) wouldn't go through the same thing his 'old' (Jews) had. And yet, in his attempts at preventing one kind of genocide, he'd almost become the executor of another... And it had all changed in a single day in 1972... and not just because Erik Lehnsherr, Magneto, was believed to have died; no, that was probably the least important of all the things that had happened in a matter of a few days: there had been Anya, and Charles, and the reformation of the X-Men, two men becoming the leaders the world was finally getting to see...

"Uncle Howard knew Maria would see no difference between Charles and his Institute, and Magneto with his Brotherhood." I explained quietly. "It's why his assistance had to be kept a secret." I turned to Charles again. "I know he always hoped the day would come when the truth would be revealed, when you would finally know your friend never betrayed you..."

Charles didn't say a word, but at a gentle mental nudge I soon found myself on my knees before his chair and we were embracing, memories of the Howard each of us had known flowing in between them. He might be dead, but his memory still lived, and it would for a long time yet.

xXx

Shots, screams, someone stepping on the breaks in a car, a crash, glass breaking, more shots, more screams... I had no idea what has going on, couldn't see a thing, I could only hear and sense, something was horribly, terribly wrong...

Like the flip of a switch, the darkness dissipated and I was suddenly left staring at some kind of screen, with characters shifting, changing... I couldn't move, couldn't even look around me, could do nothing but stare at the screen in front of me as the shifting characters finally settled and the message became clear: Out of the Shadows. Into the Light. HYDRA.

I was still trying to process the revelation, when once again my surroundings changed, and they didn't stop changing, images shifting endlessly around me: an assassination attempt, shootings, fights, car chases, new projects, planes, soldiers, agents, ships, helicarriers, attacks, escapes, betrayals and what some might see as a chess game of epic (or realm-level) proportions, with Washington DC (or the world, depending on perspective) as the board.

My surroundings went black again, and a voice filtered through the darkness to my ears:

"SHIELD is not what we thought it was, it's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot the Nick Fury and it won't end there. If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been, and it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not..."

I was still trying to understand who's voice I'd just heard exactly, I knew it was male, but I'd never heard it before; and then a new voice reached my ears, female, I didn't remember it either, and yet my heart seemed to stop at the sound of it:

"Mom!"

Chapter Text

Turquoise Rose

Some families are bound by ties stronger than blood, they are formed by choice...

I woke up to the imperious sense that someone was home... well, not the home in Westchester where I'd been living again for the past three years, but another place I called home... In fact, I was quite sure that was what woke me up in the first place.

I slipped off the bed, blindly looking for something to put on, belatedly remembering that my usual dressing robe was lost (little accident with one of our youngest mutants, I didn't mind), so I opened my closet and reached deep, looking for one of my older robes. I pulled it out, on, and even then it wasn't until I turned around, facing the full-body length mirrored that I realized what exactly I was wearing: the fabric was flannel, and the design was red and black plaid, it was a robe I hadn't worn since leaving New Mexico, all those years prior; in fact, I wasn't even sure how the thing had ended in my closet, I'd hardly taken anything from New Mexico with me when leaving, the trauma of the loss too sharp to allow me to think clearly...

Even though I wasn't quite sure why I was doing it, I stepped towards the mirror, and the moment I placed a hand on the crystal the image appeared to shimmer, and suddenly it wasn't showing my reflection anymore, but instead the image of a girl with mid-back length, wavy, honey brown hair and chocolate eyes, wearing blue jeans and a blue-plaid long-sleeved button up. Even before seeing the double necklace around her neck I knew instinctively who it was...

I let out a non-verbal psychic cry before spinning around, shrugging off my robe and throwing on the first set of clothes I found, which ended being dark-jeans, an off-white tank and a black short-sleeved short-jacket, black boots finished my attire.

By the time I reached the ground floor of the mansion, Charles, Max, Jean, Scott and a few others were there already... apparently I'd woken them up by accident.

"I need to go." I said simply as I made my way to the door.

"You gonna disappear for another twenty years?" Sirin asked with more than a little disdain.

"What...?" I wasn't expecting that. "No! This isn't permanent, or long term, not at all. I need to get to New Mexico."

"You can feel her calling." Charles murmured.

I wasn't sure if he'd seen the same thing I had, if he understood the significance, or if he was just reacting to my own needs (with me being chaos it wasn't easy for him to get into my head, though he did manage it once in a while... mostly when I let him).

"I don't know if one could even call it that." I admitted with a shrug. "But I know she's at the ranch, and she needs help, I need to get there."

"We can get you there faster." Jean offered.

"I cannot use the jet." I shook my head. "You need to keep it, after what happened yesterday... war's coming, the X-Men will be needed. You must be ready."

"We're ready." Scott assured us. "And she didn't mean the blackbird..."

"They meant me..." I turned at the voice of the newcomer.

She had deep green eyes and black hair with dark pink highlights... she was also one of the most recent additions to the ranks of the X-Men: Blink.

"Clarice..." I addressed her by her civilian name.

"If you have the coordinates of the place, or can show it to me on a map I can get you there." She informed me. "You might loose a few minutes, going through the 'vacuum', but it will still be much better than any other method of travel..."

"Thank you." I nodded.

In minutes I'd packed a bag, in which I included my X-Man suit and my collection of blades. I still had some clothes in the ranch, as well as money and other stuff for emergencies. Though I made several calls to make sure they'd have running water, and groceries would be delivered later that day (electricity wouldn't be a problem, as the ranch had its own generator).

Blink opened the portal just after breakfast and after thanking them all for their support, and apologizing for not being there when the battles happened (we all knew they were coming, they'd already begun in other places), I knew they could handle it. I took a deep breath, and then I was stepping through the portal.

I had several moments to wonder if what I was feeling was what Mama and Papa felt whenever they traveled the Shadow Paths. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually I took an instinctive step, and suddenly found myself standing in the front porch of the ranch.

I could see the signs of people, mostly in the dust that had been disturbed... and in the huge plane parked to my left. I fished my key and opened the door, not quite thinking about how the people inside might react to my sudden arrival. I got a few seconds to pick up on the fact that there were eight people inside, four women and four men, half of them were in their twenties, while the other half were older. Also, that latter half had reached for their weapons the instant I stepped in, and at least one would probably have attacked if it weren't for the figure that stared at me for just a fraction of a second before rushing and throwing herself into my arms. I didn't need to look to realize she was the very same girl I'd seen in my mirror that morning and...

"Mom!"

I might not have known her voice when hearing it (her) in my vision/dream, I might not have truly recognized her image in the mirror, but even without the button up she was wearing (which I knew, of course I knew, it had once been mine...) and the double necklace around her neck, I knew her deep inside, in my heart...

"Oh my darling..." I breathed out, my arms folding around her automatically.

The moment we embraced, my mind was filled with images and sounds, snippets of her life, of my daughter's life...

I saw a woman in her thirties (an agent, my power whispered in the back of my head) carrying a brown-haired baby in a top that had been re-purposed to serve as a dress, she left the baby on a doorstep, making sure no one saw her do it (she'd already done all the paperwork, the baby would be taken in by the nuns of St. Agnes, they'd look after her, would make sure she was safe, and that the 'monsters' would never find her). I saw the little girl: Mary Sue Poots, growing up in a group home, alone even when surrounded by many other people. Saw the kind of families that would foster her, some good, others not so much; I saw the bastard who dislocated her arm that day, the night we met in the ER...

I saw pieces of our six months together, though I didn't really need to, that was a time I'd never forget. I saw the day of our goodbye. Got to see some of the other families she'd been with, those who had been good to her, and those who hadn't. Saw Lorna (and that was a shock), Matthew (and I had a feeling I'd seen or at least heard of him elsewhere), Emma, Miles. Her two years in LA, and the day SHIELD had found her...

When I saw Mike, what she'd done for him, for Ace, the reason behind her even taking and uploading the video... I was so proud of her. From the get go she only ever wanted to help others. To keep them safe; at first that was by getting out the information some people didn't want made public, believing it was harder to hurt others with it that way; and the program she'd created (and I knew who'd bought that program! A man I still called my cousin...). I saw her choosing to join the team, being trained, becoming an agent... When I saw her shot... I almost lost control of my fire right then and there, at the same time a part of me screamed at the spirits, why hadn't I known about that? I had no idea whatever I could have done to help, but I'd have found a way! At least Phil Coulson was there, he'd saved my little girl, I'd be forever grateful to him for that. The rest of the team were amazing too, in their own ways, of course. Lorelei I hated on principle (seeing how her sister killed my mother... and technically my unborn self), and seeing Helena again, even if it was only in a vision of the past, it made me happy.

Grant Ward... I'm not the kind to judge a book by its cover, or a man by his looks, or even his 'official' allegiances. I'm also not enough of a hypocrite to hold his beliefs against him. I, who am capable of murder and destruction to protect those I care for, who have killed people I don't know to protect those I do... I may not be proud of it, but neither do I lie to myself or try to make like it never happened. So, I understood Grant Ward being willing to do things both good and bad for a man he cared for, saw as family; I respected even more him choosing my daughter in the end, even when the cost could have been his own life (if that made me a bit biased so what?).

Finally I saw earlier that day, the moment when Skye had told her team she knew of a place to go, a place her they'd be safe, I saw the thought that had been running through her mind as she said that; the memory of me telling her she'd always have a home in the ranch...

My hold on the young brunette tightened momentarily as I saw that last part, before recovering full consciousness of the present. I opened my eyes again to watch Phil Coulson, Melinda May and Mike Peterson pointing guns at me; Darcy Lewis had a hand on her own weapons but was waiting to make sure there was a risk, while the two scientists, FitzSimmons, looked thoroughly spooked. Grant... he was looking at us, head cocked to a side, as if he were trying to see through me. He at least trusted enough that if Skye was hugging me I was no risk for them, as he hadn't made a move to attack, not at all.

"I've missed you so much..." Skye whispered into my ear.

"Me too darling, more than you could ever imagine." I assured her.

"I have a pretty good imagination." She quipped with a half-smile.

"Wait a second," Leo Fitz called abruptly. "Did you say mom?!"

"I thought you were an orphan." His partner, Simmons, said, somewhat bluntly, then seemed to notice and winced. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Skye assured her. "I didn't lie."

"I'm not her mother by birth." I clarified as I finally broke our embrace (much as I didn't want to). "But Skye is the daughter of my heart, and she always will be."

"You once told me you'd only ever called one woman mom, she's the one." Grant said right then, it wasn't a question.

"Yes." Skye nodded, facing her team. "She was my foster mom for six months, back in 2001..."

"Why only six months?" May asked, still not really trusting me.

"Because as far as the law was concerned I was a 21 year old, recently graduated nurse about to lose her job due to the budget cuts in the hospital." I explained quietly. "I was also single. All in all, they didn't believe I was the right person to raise an impressionable little girl..."

"There was also the protocol Agent Avery had put in place." Skye offered evenly.

"If I'd known you were in danger, any kind of danger, I'd have never let you go, you know that right?" I asked her, serious, needing her to understand.

"I know." She nodded.

I knew she did, I could feel it; and that, more than anything else made me happy. My daughter trusted me. Even if it had been almost fifteen years since we'd last laid eyes on each other. She still saw me as her mom, our place as home. And even with everything she'd been through (so many things that made me wish things had gone differently back then), she still trusted me...

"Who are you?" Coulson inquired, sounding more curious than defensive by then.

"Right!" Skye called suddenly. "Haven't made the introductions. Mom, this is my team: Mike Peterson, Leo Fitz, Jemma Simmons... we call them FitzSimmons because they're always together. Then there are the Agents: Darcy Lewis, Melinda May, the boss: Agent Phil Coulson; I call him AC because his initials, and because he's cool." She was practically babbling, smiling happily. "And my awesome SO: Grant." She paused. "Wait, are we even Agents, still, with SHIELD going boom and all that?" She shook her head. "Anyway, team, this is my mom, nurse Rosalie Nova... her friends call her Sally."

I smiled at her and threw an arm around her shoulders (I couldn't help myself, I just needed to hold her, it'd been so long...).

"You were twenty one when she was a little girl, yet you seem to have hardly aged since." May pointed out, she sounded the least willing to trust me.

"Yeah." I nodded calmly. "I don't quite age the way humans do."

Before May, or anyone else, had the chance to follow that line of potential interrogation, Skye spoke up again.

"I knew it!" She exclaimed as she turned to look at me. "I knew you were older than you looked. With the way you were always talking about your sister, and her kids... Your name isn't really Rosalie, is it?"

"It's a name I've used, one I've greatly enjoyed." I shrugged, remembering all the time I'd had it. "But no, it's not the one I was born with."

"Who are you really?" Darcy asked.

"And what are you?" May asked at the same time.

"That sounds almost insulting." I scoffed, somewhat dramatically. "I was born in this world, to parents from other realms, other races." I took a deep breath, straightened up and finally dropped the bomb. "I was born Rose Alfdis in 1949... you might have a better idea of who I am, if I tell you that most of the world has known me by one name: the Rose of Chaos..."

It wasn't exactly a surprise when they refused to believe me. And while it was, indeed, a tad annoying, a part of me couldn't help but be glad. They were doubting me on the one hand because they were agents and it was their job; but in the other, because I was getting close to one they saw as their own, someone they wanted to protect. It made me so happy, knowing that my little girl had found a family, blood didn't matter, they loved her, that was the important thing.

"You're awesome mom!" Skye announced once I finished giving them the cliff-notes version of my life-story. "I mean, even back when I was little I knew you were, but you're a lot more awesome than I'd imagined. You're a hero!"

"So are you..." I told her softly, running a hand down her cheek. "It's not the powers that make a hero, darling, it's what you do with them. I've known people without even the smallest gift, who've done amazing things." Anya, Moira, Martha, Johnathan, Bruce, and so many others. "One might even say that it's harder, doing the things we all do, without anything extra to help. Yet you do it, all of you."

She lowered her head, somewhat bashful.

"There's one thing I don't understand." Grant stated seriously. "If you're Skye's mom, if you love her, why didn't you look for her?"

"Grant!" Skye exclaimed. "You really shouldn't say that! It's not her fault, I understand..."

"It's okay Skye..." I assured her, taking a deep breath before confessing to what I saw as one of my greatest sins, perhaps the greatest. "He's right. I left you, I let you go and I shouldn't have."

"But you couldn't help it." Skye insisted, and while she sounded even I could sense the mounting trepidation. "Miss Matthews didn't think you were the right kind of person to look after me, and you couldn't explain things to her, it was no one's fault. That's what you said..."

"I wasn't lying." I assured her. "But while there's nothing I could have done in that moment, I could have done something later on. When I was living in Kansas, had a job, a stable life... I could have looked for you, could have sought to adopt you... and I didn't."

"Why not?" She sounded so lost as she asked that, it hurt me.

"Because I was a coward." I admitted quietly. "I was afraid to go looking for you and finding that you had a new family, that you didn't need me. As long as I stayed away I could imagine things were different. And then... later on I got into some troubles, and I had to fight, and I couldn't help but think that maybe that's why I didn't get to keep you, because in the end I will always be a warrior, and I had no right to subject a child to that kind of life..."

"I would have had you, and that would have been enough." She assured me, very softly.

"If one of my enemies had harmed you..." I would have razed Kansas, and probably more, to the ground; but I couldn't tell her that, I didn't want to scare her. "I'd have never forgiven myself."

The conversation ended there, and neither of us insisted anymore.

Almost two hours later a truck passed by, they had the groceries I'd ordered by the phone earlier. Enough to keep us all fed for as long as a week (though I imagined they'd want to go into one of the towns before that). By then Skye and Darcy had managed to make the wi-fi work again and they were online. I was wondering what might happen next when my own cellphone rang:

"Hello?" I heard the Professor on the other side, announcing that what we'd been waiting for had happened. "I see... Well then, good luck. You know that if you need me you can call and send someone to get me."

I'd just hung up when my phone seemed to go crazy, over a dozen alerts pinging one after the other created an odd melody. I just needed one look to confirm my suspicions and nodded to myself, putting the phone away. It had begun.

"What was that?" May inquired, more interested than challenging anymore.

"A friend." I answered with a shrug. "He called to let me know the X-Men have gone into battle. The Fantastic 4 are on-guard too. Then the alerts were warnings from several other friends of mine, telling me their own battles were starting."

"Other friends?" Simmons asked, confused.

"Did you really think that after all these years Hydra would limit itself to infiltrating SHIELD?" I asked them, unable to keep from rolling my eyes a bit. "They're everywhere!"

"How long have you known about Hydra?" Darcy asked, interested.

"Some have known since the nineties." I admitted. "My brother began creating alliances back then, looking for people who'd be willing to fight Hydra once they revealed themselves. I found out when I got into some trouble with another group that had been infiltrated. It was then that I began traveling the world, looking for allies of my own. Then in 2013 I had a vision that pulled me back to the States and here I've stayed since."

"So what? Captain America won his battle and others are starting across the country?" Fitz asked, obviously shocked.

"Try across the world." I corrected him. "And yes, that's pretty much it. We hope that this way we'll finally destroy Hydra, once and for all."

"Haven't you heard, with Hydra if you destroy one head, two others will pop up." Grant said, somewhat grimly.

"That is true enough." I admitted. "But destroy enough heads, fast enough, and eventually there will be no more left. That's why the alliances and a good communication were so important." I turned to look at my daughter. "The signal you re-transmitted yesterday, the Captain's Speech? It wasn't just heard by SHIELD, it was heard by everybody, everywhere. It was the signal for teams all around the world to stand and fight."

"So what? The world is at war now?" Mike asked, worried.

"I suppose it's one way to put it." I admitted slowly. "We actually hope that doing things this way will prevent wars in the future. The mission Captain America and his Howling Commandos took on back in the 40s was noble, but there's no way they could have ever done it alone. The Captain isn't alone now, people everywhere are on his side."

"And you made it possible." Skye whispered in awe.

"Not just me." I told her with a small smile. "There was a lot more people involved."

She either didn't hear that part, or just didn't care. She just kept smiling, like I was amazing, like I was some kind of miracle. She couldn't see that, for me, she was the miracle. She'd always be.

xXx

I wasn't at all surprised when the team decided to join the fight. What was more, thanks to Grant (or to John Garrett... depending how one looked at it), they knew exactly where the main HQ for project Centipede was located. In a factory belonging to Cybertech (the same company they'd been tracking a package of in Italy, when my daughter was shot). The best part was that the target was in New Mexico, no more than three hours away from the ranch. So we made plans, got our weapons ready and then we were off.

I got a brief vision, shortly before we got there. It didn't give me much, but when I learned about Cybertech's 'Incentives Program' I almost screamed. The glimpses of women, children and the like, being kept captive so some member of their families would comply, it was enough to make me want to burn the building to the ground (which would have been counterproductive, at least until we got the innocents out).

A plan was made, and it was a good plan. Skye and I got to play 'crazy chicks with a bomb' as we took the place hostage (in order to eventually find the actual hostages). May, Mike and Darcy would engage the Centipede soldiers in the area, while Grant (I knew no one wanted him to be called Ward again) and Coulson went looking for whoever might be in charge. FitzSimmons were to stay in Skye's van (one of the vehicles we'd driven there) and keep everyone in contact.

Not everything went quite to plan, though most things did. We found the hostages, got all the workers out; that also had the side-effect of prompting half the Centipede soldiers into giving up (apparently not all of them were there by their own will). The one part we didn't count on, was who was heading the base: John Garrett.

I had heard the 'official CEO' say his name, but didn't truly understand the significance of it until Skye went all nuts and ran off. I, of course, followed.

I really wasn't expecting what we found when we got there: Coulson was on the ground, and by the slow motions I deduced he must have a concussion. Grant had just taken down what looked like a guard, the last, when Skye froze near the middle of the room, eyes fixed straight on Garrett.

"You little bitch!" He practically snarled at her. "It's all your fault! You ensnared him, ruined him. But now I'll teach you, I'll teach you both!"

He looked awful, really, like a dead man walking (it was until later that I realized how right that thought actually was). He raised a gun, and I was too far away to get there in time... but Grant wasn't. He pushed Skye out the way in the last moment, only to then collapse, a bullet in his gut. Skye shrieked, then seemed to completely lose it as she stayed frozen.

I watched Garrett move to shoot a second time... and I didn't even think about I, I just pulled at the thin dagger in my hair and threw it. It went straight through his hand, forcing him to drop the gun. It also made him turn in my direction, looking for the one who'd injured him.

"Who are you?!" He demanded hotly.

"You just made a huge mistake." I told him, ignoring his question completely. "You tried to hurt, tried to kill, my daughter."

I didn't even stop to think about it, simply raised a hand and shot a stream of fire at him. The attack was too fast for him to dodge or defend himself in any way; he was probably dead before he fully realized there was no hope for him.

It was until I stopped the attack (when I was sure nothing would be left of him but ashes) that I realized that everyone else had arrived at some point, and they were looking straight at me. I braced myself for any possible reaction (I was mostly expecting negative ones) but before any of them could say a single word, Skye broke the tension with her own cry.

"Mom!" She called for me. "Grant is bleeding. It's really, really bad, please!"

I rushed to her side, dropping on the young man's other side. He really was in a bad place, the bullet appeared to have hit his digestive system; not sure what organ exactly, but he was bleeding a lot, and he was obviously in serious pain.

"Don't you have another of those thing you used to save Skye?" Mike asked, worried.

"No." Coulson replied grimly. "It was the last one."

I considered the possibilities as fast as I could. I knew a number of healers, but most of them would never be able to get to us in time to save Grant; which left me with but one name I knew would work. It was the obvious choice really...

"MAMA!" I called loudly, gripping the rose pendant on my bracelet.

Everyone looked at me, either thinking me crazy, or simply not sure of what was going to happen, but that was okay, I didn't need their faith, I had enough all on my own. I felt the power a fraction of a second before they stepped out of the shadows (because, of course, Mama hardly ever went anywhere without Papa, especially not when there was potential danger everywhere).

"Nightingale... Loki..." Phil breathed out, in a mix of curiosity and relief, and then his eyes turned to me, as if something had finally clicked inside his head.

"Yes." I said to his unasked question. "I am their daughter."

"Hello Phil." Mama greeted him with a smile.

Papa didn't say anything, just kept guard while Mama knelt beside us. A wave of her hand had the bullet out and then she was working on healing the injury.

"Don't worry darling." I told Skye, a hand on her arm. "He'll be alright. Mama will have him as good as new in no time."

"He's hurt because of me." Skye half-murmured, half-sobbed. "He took a bullet meant for me..."

"I know." I nodded. "I know it's hard, watching others get hurt protecting you. Probably even harder than getting hurt yourself. But you must remember, that he did what he did because you are precious to him, and you would probably have done the exact same thing in his place. Do not lessen his choice, or his regard."

"Then what can I do?" She asked me very quietly.

"Train, get stronger." Papa offered. "If you've chosen to be a warrior, you will be in dangerous situations, and while you cannot avoid all injuries, the stronger and more capable you are, the more likely you are to survive, and the better you'll be able to protect those you care for."

My girl nodded, obviously taking the advice very seriously.

A sharp intake of breath announced the moment Grant finished healing. His arm instantly shot out, only to be caught by Skye.

"It's alright, we're alright." She murmured soothingly to him.

"Garrett..." Grant croaked, turning to a side to cough and spit some blood. "What happened...?"

"It's all over." she assured him. "Mom killed him."

Grant let out a breath and I could only wonder at the mixed feelings I was getting from him. It was only natural, John Garrett had apparently been very important to him, almost family. He'd chosen Skye over him, but still, it couldn't be easy.

"Rose, my little goddess." Papa called right then. "Still causing chaos wherever you go, are you?"

"Of course." I had to smile at that. "It's in my nature, after all."

I was the Rose of Chaos, such things were my specialty.

"Thank you for saving my life." Grant said, sitting up slowly.

"It's our pleasure." Mama assured him. "Rose called, and we answered..."

"We had no healing stones and we needed help fast." I explained quietly, looking straight at my parents. "I knew you would hear me if I called."

"They're your parents..." Skye said suddenly, as if just realizing it. "Why didn't you say so before? It's... it's even more awesome!"

"It's not that I was trying to hide it." I clarified before anyone could believe that. "It's just... back when I first joined the X-Men in the early 70s I changed my name, both Willow and I did, in order to protect the rest of our family, keep them safe from any possible enemies of ours. After that it just became natural... I haven't used that name, or introduced myself as their daughter for decades, more than half my life, in fact."

I could see Skye wasn't sure if that too was amazing, or if it was just sad. I said nothing about it, instead choosing to change the topic.

"Mama, Papa, I'm sure you must know almost everyone here right now." I knew they'd met the team (all but Mike) at least once in the recent past. "But there's someone I'd like you to meet again... This is Skye, my daughter."

Of course they knew me enough to understand she wasn't my biological child, but if anyone could understand the strength in families by adoption (by choice) it was them. What I wasn't expecting was when Mama's attention went straight to Skye's necklace (who was playing with it in her nervousness) or the words that came from her mouth then:

"Daisy?!" She looked beyond shocked. "It is you! Daisy! Oh Spirits! How are you here? Where are your mom and dad? And you're with SHIELD..."

She was practically babbling, and I couldn't believe it, I hadn't seen her like that in... well, I wasn't quite sure I'd ever seen her like that before.

"Wait, wait a second." I interrupted her. "You know her?"

"Daisy?!" Several others asked at the same time.

"Daisy Johnson." Papa clarified with a short nod. "It is her."

"Are you sure?" Coulson inquired, intently.

"Absolutely." Papa waved a hand, and suddenly we all saw the necklace around Skye's neck moving on its own. "We gave her this."

"What?!" Again, the shock.

"Does that meant you know my parents?" My girl asked very, very quietly.

"If we know..." Mama echoed, before she abruptly seemed to realize the implications. "What?! But that... that means... You call yourself Skye, you've no idea who Daisy is, do you?"

"No." My little girl shook her head. "The nuns at St. Agnes called me Mary Sue Poots, I dropped that name as soon as I knew how to do it, and chose the one of Skye."

"St. Agnes...?" Mama repeated, paling. "But then... what happened to your parents? What happened to Cal and Jiaying?"

"Cal and Jiaying?" Skye asked, sounding like she was testing the names, the sounds, all of it.

"Calvin and Jiaying Johnson." Mama explained. "Cal was from Wisconsin, I knew him in the mid-eighties, while I was working on re-earning my credentials as a nurse. In '88 he joined Doctors Without Borders and left for what was supposed to be a summer in China. He called me months later to tell me he was staying, establishing a clinic in a little town in the Hunan Province that had no doctors. He asked me, asked us to join him. It was risky for us to stay in the States, surrounded by people who might come to recognize us in the future, something that would only have confused them, and our younger selves. So we left. Jiaying was Chinese, she assisted Cal until I got there, even after that she helped us, as we didn't know the language; even did her best to teach us. The two of them married before the end of the year. It was obvious how much they loved each other..."

"How long did you stay?" I asked softly.

I couldn't quite believe that I hadn't known about that. Though, on hindsight, I had known. I still remembered their visit after the mess in Cairo, Mama had told me that they were living in China, and about their friends; they'd even told me about their friend's daughter, who'd just been born, right before they were to leave for Vanaheim... the very reason why they delayed their departure for six months...

"Until the day after you were born." Mama told Skye kindly. "We'd made plans to leave earlier, but Jiaying didn't want to go to another town to give birth in a hospital, and Cal didn't want to be alone when his wife gave birth. So we stayed longer, I was there when you were born, helped y... Cal bring you into the world."

I could see how Mama avoided using words like 'mother' and 'father', and not just because Skye had called me mom before; Mama knew that having a biological connection wasn't enough to make people family. No one would be referring to the Johnsons as Skye's family (or to her as Daisy) unless she so chose.

"We're technically your god-parents." Papa added from his own spot behind Mama. "Jiaying didn't believe in that particular tradition, but Calvin did. He insisted we were his best-friends..."

"We told him it was a bad idea." Mama added, and I could sense her guilt. "We told him we were leaving, but he insisted. Loki created that necklace, the two smaller pendants carry symbols that represent Jiaying and Calvin, their names in an ancient form of Chinese only Jiaying among us all really knew. The other one was supposed to serve as a blessing of sorts."

"We also spelled it." Papa offered. "Not much, because we didn't have enough of a tie to you, and you aren't a spell-weaver, to be able to support elaborate arrays... but just enough to help you survive, to maybe give you a push in the right direction when necessary. We knew it'd never be a substitute of actual godparents, but we simply couldn't stay..."

We kept talking for a little longer. We all learned that Skye's birthday was on July 2nd, something which seemed to delight her greatly, apparently she'd been convinced all along that the nuns were wrong about that, and she finally had proof. It also meant that it was less than a month to her birthday (I made a mental note to get her a gift). She and Coulson shared what they'd found out of Skye's past; about the SHIELD team that had been killed in China, the ones that had found the baby, named her an 084, the way they too were hunted, and what Agent Linda Avery did in an attempt to keep Skye safe (the real reason why they didn't let her stay with me...).

After hearing everything she'd gone through Mama couldn't seem to stop apologizing, she was horrified by it all, I could sense the guilt in her, and even in Papa (who was usually much more pragmatic). However, what I will never forget is what my girl told them then:

"I don't regret it." She said calmly. "I might have, in the past, when I was young and insecure, and so afraid that no one wanted me, that no one ever would... But if I hadn't gone through all that, I wouldn't be here today; wouldn't be part of this amazing team, this family... I could never regret that. And if going through all that was the price to be here, right now... then I will never regret everything I've lived. It's made me who I am after all..."

I embraced her then, bending to press a kiss to her hair. She was right of course. She was my little girl, and she always would be, my daughter, my Skye...

xXx

After my parents left we all went back to the ranch. Days passed and we watched on the news as the battles came to an end, Hydra falling, piece by piece. And then... then the trials began. It was easy to understand; people were angry, they were feeling betrayed, and they wanted someone to blame. However, there were those who wouldn't allow them to turn whatever SHIELD Agents they managed to catch, and especially not Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and their friends into sacrificial lambs. Hakon, in his cover as Mac Grayson, was leading the defense, and he wasn't alone. Nina was there as well, mostly representing the X-Men, though completely unafraid to get into any battle of wills that was necessary. There were others too, doing work in the background: Murdock, Woods, Specter, Quinn... It was amazing. And the media was all over it.

Darcy and Skye were focusing on going through everything they'd managed to 'rescue' from SHIELD's databases, before Natasha burnt the rest. It allowed the rest of the team to create an interactive map marking each Hydra location, specialty and status. More than half of them had been crossed off already, and of the remaining half most had a status of 'unknown', which mainly meant that they hadn't been on any media, so we didn't know for sure. That included pretty much all the top-secret SHIELD bases (like the Hub, the Sandbox, the Fridge, the Guest House, etc.), though that one was mostly because none of the team had even tried to get in contact with anyone in those bases, and they probably wouldn't know to contact them:

"Due to Phil's status as dead and all that, we... the team I mean, doesn't actually exist in any records." Darcy explained at one point. "So, really, they wouldn't even know how to reach us..." She made a pause before adding. "It's either that or Hand has told them how we evaded them and has declared us their enemies."

Skye and Fitz snorted in unison. They were probably betting on the latter.

"So, what now?" Peterson asked the question they were all probably thinking.

"That depends on each of you." Phil said seriously. "You can go back to your old lives. There are no records connecting you to SHIELD, and I'm sure Skye and Darcy can create something to cover the time you were part of it."

"I can also create completely new lives for you, if you prefer." Skye piped in. "Either erasing who you are right now, or not. It's up to you."

"So that's an option too." Phil nodded.

Fitz and Simmons turned to look at each other, and it hit me right then. I'd heard the others, especially Skye, mention how they were like one entity in two bodies, the way they finished each other's sentences, how they seemed to practically read each other's minds... They were bound, had been for a while. The most unbelievable part? They didn't seem to be conscious of it, at all.

"And what about staying?" Fitz said out-loud.

"Is that an option?" Simmons added for good measure.

"You're going after Hydra." Peterson said, it wasn't a question. "Or what might be left of it. Do you really expect us to let you go without back-up?"

"You have an opportunity to get your life back." May pointed out evenly. "Your family..."

"My family is safe." Mike cut her off. "And how could I ever face my son knowing I let good people go into battle, without helping them? That I had the opportunity to be with them, and instead chose to walk away? No, doing so would go against everything I'm trying to teach my boy, I will not do it." His mouth twitched into a half-smile. "Besides, the way I see it, you all saved my life; first in Union Station, and then again on that bridge... You gave me an opportunity to do something good with this..." He signaled to his implant. "You believed in me, when no one else did. Let me pay you back."

"I think that was a very eloquent way of saying we're all ready and willing to kick a few more asses... sir." Skye deadpanned with a mischievous grin.

"Whatever did I do to deserve this?" Phil asked, somewhat theatrically.

"I have no idea sir, but it sure makes life interesting." Grant quipped with a slight chuckle.

May didn't say a word, just looked at him with a look I could quite clearly read as: It's-all-your-fault... probably because he'd been the one to make them a team... Darcy just laughed maniacally at the whole thing.

"So, we're still a team." Fitz nodded. "That's good."

"The question is, how do we do this without SHIELD?" Simmons asked in return.

"Simmons is right." Melinda agreed. "Even if we didn't exist in any records, we still had use of SHIELD resources, connections, and money. Now all we have left is what's on this plane, and everything on it."

"Ehm..." Everyone turned to look at Darcy instantly. "This might be the time to tell you all that's not strictly true..."

"What isn't?" Grant inquired, curious.

"Well, we have more than what's on this plane." Darcy elaborated. "Our homes, and a number of safe-houses either Phil or I set up, for starters. Also... I kind of filtered a considerable amount of money from Pierce into a hidden off-shores account?"

"What?!" No one had seen that one coming, not even me.

"What?!" She demanded in return. "It's not like he's going to need it. And we do! And what better way to use that dirty money than to destroy what he and his bastard-friends built?"

"I like that idea." My daughter agreed completely. "Destroy Hydra with its own money. It's like the best karma ever!"

FitzSimmons and Grant shook their head at her choice of words, though they seemed to agree with her. The rest didn't disagree.

"There's still the lack of resources, information, I mean." Phil clarified before anyone could insist. "I know Darcy and Skye are great at what they do, but we'll need more than that if we're really going to take on whatever might be left of Hydra..."

The answer came to me, like it'd been there all along. Perhaps it was my power, keeping that idea ready until the moment the right word or phrase triggered it. Or perhaps it'd already been in the back of my mind and I just hadn't really focused on it, until Phil said that.

"I have an idea." I said suddenly. "If you'll all give me a moment."

I fished my cellphone from my pocket and without even looking I dialed a number. It took three rings, but soon enough a voice was answering:

"Sullivan speaking, who is this?" It was Chloe, in her most formal tone.

"Hey girl." I greeted her cheerfully.

I didn't even need to tell her my name:

"Rosie!" She exclaimed loudly. "Clark, Rosie's on the phone!"

I couldn't help it, I chuckled as I heard her enthusiasm.

"Girl, it's awesome to hear from you." She gushed. "When are you dropping by for a visit? I know the last week was crazy, Even here in Metropolis it was absolutely insane. Lex almost had a cow when he realized that Hydra had been managed to infiltrate LexCorp. Nowhere they could do real damage, thankfully... which, thinking it over, was probably why none of us noticed. Thankfully Veritas was better protected. Anyway, when are you coming over?"

"That's what I was calling about." I told her, once she finally gave me the chance to talk. "I'd love to visit. Also, I have a few friends who I think would like to see our little town, see the sights, meet all our friends..."

Chloe knew what I meant, and I could tell the moment all her cheeriness switched, she was suddenly all business.

"What kind of friends?" She asked, guarded.

"The kind our prince-of-Egypt is probably gonna flip about." I deadpanned. "Though I can and will vouch for them. They're my friends..."

"And I trust you Rosie, of course I do." Chloe assured me. "But yes, we both know Carter is more than a little paranoid."

She made a pause and I could hear some whispering, she was probably talking it over with Clark.

"Clark and I both trust you, of course, if you say your friends are good then they are." I could almost see her nodding. "We think you should come in Friday, if you can make it, if not, on Saturday. With everything going on Carter has been very busy in the museum. That would give us two or three days to work out the right way to explain things to him."

I rolled my eyes. It was insane for them to think that we'd be able to get anything past a man like Carter Hall. The whole prince-of-Egypt thing wasn't a joke! He'd been doing... well, all sorts of things longer than either of us had been alive! Still, I knew that if Phil and his team truly intended on going after what was left of Hydra, they'd need the kind of help Chloe and the others could give them, so we'd just have to hope Hawkman would stop and listen before trying to attack us. Hah! As if Hawkman had ever been a reasonable man...

"Very well, we'll get there then." I agreed. "Thank you."

"Everyone will be dying to see you." Chloe almost squealed. "See ya then Rosie!"

We hung up then and I turned to look at the team. All eyes were on me, waiting.

"Where are we supposed to go now?" Phil asked, brow raised.

"Kansas." I answered brightly. "I think it's time you all meet the Justice League..."

xXx

Of course I knew about that name. I knew before they ever had to reveal their existence to Metropolis, and the world as a whole; even before they'd decided on that name, as a way to honor the Justice Society of America (whom the world as a whole still believed to have died back in 2001...). I knew it was probably insane, Phil and his team weren't gifted (though some might argue that Mike qualified as such); still, they... we were all on the same side. Perhaps the Alliance didn't have to end with the fall of Hydra...

I was the one who introduced the coordinates into the (just fixed) automatic pilot, after explaining to the team that I couldn't just give them the location.

"You're protecting them, aren't you?" Skye was the first one to understand it. "The people there."

"Being who and what I am, with the people I've known, but especially having the gift of Sight... I know and keep more secrets than most would imagine." I explained.

"Like for example?" Fitz asked promptly.

Even his partner looked at him like he was crazy.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna fall for that one." I quipped. "But I will tell you this. The people in your Index, well, SHIELD's old Index. Most of them are 'enhanced', people who either did something to themselves, or who had something done to them, that made them more than what they were. Less than a handful were born with their gifts... truth is there are thousands of such individuals around the world."

"Thousands...?" Simmons repeated, awed. "But... how?"

"SHIELD never knew them, and with good reason." I explained with a shrug. "Things tend to not go so well when the government gets involved with gifted. Best case scenario: a formal alliance is formed between a gifted or a group of them and a government. They do joint missions, help people... until the power goes to someone's head and the alliance is broken. Which is exactly what happened to the the pact between the X-Men and the CIA in 92-93... and between European governments and their own mutants sometime after the creation of the EU."

"If that's the best case scenario what's the worst?" Mike asked, obviously worried.

It was easy enough, having the holotable already before me, to enter the right url and soon it was there for all to see. It was the Daily Planet. An old edition, none of them could possibly miss the first page article. I didn't say a word, just left them to go through it; to read all about the Justice Society of America, about Checkmate and its Suicide Squad, about the battle that had claimed everyone's lives but that of Dinah Queen...

I knew that the article would create some suspicions, about where I was leading them exactly. I was quite sure at least a few of them already suspected it'd be the X-Men. And while they were good (and I'd gotten a call from Erik, telling me their fights were over and they'd won), I couldn't help but think that the League were more their style. The X-Men had always focused on things related to mutants, either those trying to hurt them, or mutants hurting others; those in the League were more willing to help people for no reason other than the aid itself.

We landed in an empty field on the outskirts of Smallville. There I lead the group off the plane. We'd barely given a few steps when I perceived movement from the corner of my eye, and I was not the only one. Melinda had a gun in hand and I barely managed to disarm her before she could shoot at the newcomer.

"Are you crazy?!" I hissed at her. "We're here as guests, not to shoot at the first person to come our way. You have no idea the kind of trouble you could have gotten into..."

"Hey!" The newcomer called, approaching us at a jog. "It's alright Auntie Rose, you know she couldn't have hurt me..."

"There are no guarantees in this world." I replied evenly. "And I'm not going to take the risk."

"You just don't want to have to listen to Uncle Lex rant..." He chuckled.

"That too." I admitted with a half grin.

"Wait a second." Fitz interrupted. "Auntie?"

"Everyone, meet Connor Kent." I introduced the boy. "Con, this is the team. We can go into better introductions once we get where we're going. I suppose your brother warned you that we were coming."

"Yeah." We nodded, then turned to the others. "You've got wheels or should I bring some?"

"We have a van." Phil informed him calmly.

"Great!" He nodded, then turned back to me. "Everyone's waiting at the Talon. Sis says that if they can handle it, then they can see the rest."

"Ok, that's a good idea." I nodded.

"See ya there!" Con called cheekily, before jogging into the forest.

I wasn't sure if any of the team paid enough attention to notice the way he practically vanished the moment he crossed the treeline.

"What did he mean with us handling it?" Simmons inquired, confused.

"You'll see." I smiled cryptically at them. "Come on. We need to get to the Talon."

"What's the Talon?" Mike asked then.

"The local coffee-shop." I answered.

"Local... as in they only have one coffee-shop?!" Skye sounded honestly scandalized. "Where the hell are we and what happened to civilization?"

I couldn't help myself, I broke into laughter. She really had no idea.

"Yes, it's the only coffee-shop in town, it's good enough. You'll see." I assured her. "The place is good, and I'm not saying it because I own it..." I winked at her. "Martha also bakes awesome muffins that are sold there. I hope she's been around lately."

"Why wouldn't she be?" May asked, obviously thinking I was making too much of a deal out of something ultimately irrelevant.

"Her husband's job keeps both of them away most of the time." I answered evenly. "You'll see."

We got on the van and soon enough we were inside the town proper. It didn't take long for them to begin noticing odd things. They might have missed the first few, but by the time we reached the Talon to watch a kid with a tray of to-go cups of coffee, skating down the street, with no skates and actually floating several inches off the ground... they couldn't possibly miss that one.

"What the...?!" Ward was beyond shocked at that one.

I giggled at his expression.

"They're gifted!" Skye exclaimed in realization. "The whole town is!"

"Well, not quite the whole town." I clarified, then shrugged. "About half, give or take." I pushed open the doors, leading them in. "My friends... welcome to Smallville..."

xXx

It was probably the most unbelievable meeting ever... that is, if anyone outside our groups were to know it ever happened.

All the younger generation was there in the Talon, and some of the others arrived later on, trying to ease Phil and his team into it. Still, they never tried to hide their nature as gifted. Even those that weren't as obvious (like Lex, with his self-healing). Kara even felt enough at ease to reveal her extraterrestrial origins, and everyone had a laugh with Clark's comment about preferring 'intergalactic traveler' to alien.

FitzSimmons were both shocked and fascinated at the idea of mutagens in radiated meteors. They were delighted when offered a chance to look through all the research that had been done on them, though still somewhat sad when learning that there were no meteors left (which wasn't strictly true, but only us family knew that part).

In the end, the greatest shock weren't the gifted, but when they realized who were some of the people part of the group: like the Swann-Luthor pair, or the Kents. Even Bruce dropped by for a visit, with his fiancée: Selina. No mention was made of Batman though, nor of the Catwoman (which I learned when I shook their hands). The biggest shock came then, when Bruce introduced himself as my 'cousin'.

"Oh my god..." Skye gasped.

"Who's that?" Bruce asked, as he'd arrived late to the party and hadn't heard the introductions.

"That's your niece." I quipped.

"Wha...?" Skye couldn't believe.

"But of course." I said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "You're my daughter Skye, which means you're Bruce's niece."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Skye." Bruce assured her delighted.

He wasn't the only one, they all seemed to take great pleasure in meeting my daughter. Martha especially, hugged us both tightly. Then had a talk with me, while Skye was busy exchanging tips on hacking with Chloe (and with Bruce putting in his two cents every once in a while).

"Your daughter..." Martha murmured quietly. "It's her, isn't she? The little girl you couldn't adopt before coming to Smallville, Mary?"

"Yes." I nodded, unable to help the heaviness that filled me. "She was never adopted Martha. The life she's lived... she..." I swallowed, forcing the knot down my throat. "I told her why I never looked for her, how I didn't dare... my cowardice. And she doesn't blame me! She says she doesn't regret it. She still calls me mom... still loves me..."

"Oh sweetheart..." Martha didn't say anything more, she just held me tightly.

Even with everything that had been said, all of Skye's reassurances, I still couldn't help but feel guilty. Nothing I could do or say would change things, and I still felt that way. Martha didn't make any empty promises, didn't give me any useless platitudes, I didn't need them. She just held me, until I could finally let go of all that grief, all that pain, the feelings of inadequacy. The things that, awful as it might seem, I wasn't able to reveal before my own Mama. And how could I when she was already having enough of a hard time feeling like she'd failed as Skye's godmother? No, I couldn't have put that kind of weight on her.

I recovered relatively fast, and the party went on.

The best moment of the day, at least to me, was when I got to meet the new members of the family. First there was Lena Julie, Lex's and Trish's youngest, born on the Spring of 2012; and Laura Mairwen, born in Autumn of the same year, she was Clark's and Chloe's daughter (whom Jor-El's AI insisted on calling Lara Kal-El). They were such beautiful children, and I loved them as much as I did everyone else in the family. Sarah and Joseph, my godchildren, had grown so much, which was only to be expected, considering she was twelve-going-on-thirteen and he had turned six a few months before.

Eventually Phil and his team met some of the other gifted. Like Alicia, Cyrus, Justin, Kyla. A few even expressed a willingness to help Phil's team in missions if they needed them. They had no intention of joining any specific team, not theirs, and not the League. But were still willing to help on a case-by-case basis.

Eventually we talked about what had happened the week before. As it happened things hadn't been that bad in Kansas and its surroundings. Lex had confirmed his suspicions that Lionel had been contacted by Hydra at one point, but even he wasn't stupid enough to agree to work for others (either that or he was simply too narcissistic), and Hydra had never learned of kryptonite and its potential uses. As far as we were all concerned we had dodged a bullet with that one...

To my surprise, Hawkman did not flip out on us all... I suspected Doctor Fate might have told him we were coming (he might have seen something while wearing the helmet of Nabu. Either that or he trusted me and my judgment more than I thought he would.

In the end we had a good weekend in Smallville. A lot of fun, and also moments when the future was discussed, plans made. Like expected, the League had revealed themselves to fight Hydra, and they wouldn't be backing down, even with it gone. Also, by Monday plans were being made to move Mike's son, sister and niece to Smallville. I'd offered my house, but in the end Lex had offered them the old Potter home (which he'd bought from Nell Potter years prior). And it wasn't just about a home, Mindy would be taking over the Talon as Kara was moving to Metropolis to make her duties with the League easier.

The world would soon be learning that there were a lot more heroes ready to protect it, not just the Avengers.

xXx

Two weeks after the attack on Nick Fury that had started the reveal of Hydra and the fall of SHIELD another meeting took place. Though in a much different location: the military cemetery in Washington DC...

It was an interesting meeting, I was present through it all, though still waited for a while before revealing my presence. I knew even before arriving, how hard it would be for Nick Fury to deal with everything that would be said in that particular meeting. I still enjoyed my part, when I got to reveal myself, had Fury calling me a myth, a symbol, just a little freaked out at how I managed to answer his every question before he could actually ask them. Though perhaps the most interesting part, was one conversation I wasn't directly a part of.

I was still there, standing beside my beloved daughter and her not-quite-boyfriend (neither of them had said a word about it just yet, but I knew it was only a matter of time, they loved each other, it was there for us all to see, and he'd already chosen her over the one other person he'd cared who was still in his life).

Technically Nick was approaching only Coulson, but the whole team chose to stay nearby. It appeared that the revelation of Hydra and everything that followed had bound the team tighter than before, rather than tearing them apart. Then again, from my point of view, if they'd managed to survive learning one of their own had been part of said organization (and had switched sides just in time), there was probably very little they couldn't survive.

"Coulson, I need to speak to you." Fury said authoritatively; then when seeing us all hanging around, added. "Alone."

"I have no problem talking to you Nick, but I'm afraid that with recent events and all, my team has become a tad overprotective and they aren't likely to leave me alone with anyone." Phil shrugged carelessly.

Truth was he knew, as well as the rest of us, that we would keep some distance if he were to really ask. It would probably make most of his team uncomfortable, but they'd do it, because they respected his authority, his decisions... Darcy was a whole other matter. But either he didn't want to cause that kind of tension, or he too preferred to have his team around.

"Very well." Fury said, though I could tell he was still uncomfortable by us being so near. "I shall be leaving for Europe soon to try and track what rats did not go down with their ships. And there is still the matter of the leadership of SHIELD."

"What leadership of SHIELD?" Phil asked, somewhat confused.

"Didn't you know?" Darcy put in her two cents. "SHIELD is gone."

"SHIELD need not be gone, it can still be saved, rebuilt, with the right person..." Fury began.

"Oh, and let me guess, you want Phil to be that person." Darcy cut him off, already shaking her head even before she finished speaking. "Yeah, not happening."

"What...?" The former Director obviously hadn't seen that one coming.

"Didn't you hear, SHIELD's no more." Darcy repeated, more strongly than before and then, to make things clearer she added: "Captain's orders."

"Darce's right." Phil nodded. "I'm sorry Nick, but SHIELD is gone, and neither me nor anyone else will be rebuilding it."

"You would leave the world vulnerable, without its protectors..." Fury began.

"Hey!" At least half the team called out right then, feeling insulted by the insinuation.

"We're not leaving anyone vulnerable, or unprotected Nick." Phil told him patiently. "No one ever said only SHIELD could protect the world. And we don't need to be SHIELD to do what we know needs to be done."

Nick Fury blinked several times and I could tell he was baffled by the whole conversation; or maybe what had left him like that was the realization that, perhaps for the first time in quite a while, he wasn't going to get what he wanted.

"If that's all, I think some members of my team would like the opportunity to meet a few of those present while they have the chance." Phil stated evenly. "Who knows when they'll have another one once we get to work?"

Phil didn't say anything else, just turned to go, and the rest of the team did the same. I could tell Skye was quite eager at the prospect of meeting the Avengers and their families. And it went beyond the fangirl she might have once been; her admiration for them had gone beyond that of a girlish crush and turned into respect for their abilities and achievements, a desire to improve herself. They had become her role models in many ways.

"What about the plane?!" Fury demanded unexpectedly.

"What plane Nick?" Phil asked carelessly, without actually turning back.

"The Bus!" Nick insisted, sounding almost like a child being told he couldn't play with a particular toy anymore.

"Didn't you know? It doesn't exist anymore." Darcy quipped, she wasn't turning around either. "And by the way, neither do we."

And just like that, all of Fury's plans fell, all his ideas to manipulate Coulson into taking the job, becoming the New Director, rebuilding SHIELD... it was all useless. I couldn't help but feel it was better that way. As good an idea as SHIELD might have been upon its beginning, as much good as it might have done at one point... the taint left by Hydra was simply too great, the risk of something like that happening all over again too big. No, they couldn't turn back, it was better if they moved on, to something new. The future was brighter that way.

Nick Fury's future looked brighter too. It was a thought that crossed my mind as I watched him leave the cemetery, only to be followed shortly afterwards by none other than Kathryn Salani Adler, the former Agent of SHIELD, Elite, the Sphinx... As she went around the same corner Nick had disappeared past less than a minute before I got several flashes:

A white sea glass heart-shaped pendant with a silver-key charm wire-wrapped on top of it, a jewelry box that when closed looked like a stone sphinx. A woman in her early-twenties with blue-green eyes that looked as clear as the water from an oasis, shoulder-length sun-bleached golden hair in a yellow dress standing in the middle of the desert; a dark-skinned man, a few years older than her, with a shaved head, a hat and deep eyes standing less than six feet away from her, in a white button-up, brown slacks, tanned-leather jacket and boots, he was looking at her as if she were the only woman in the whole planet. And perhaps, for him, she was... I watched him standing before her, holding her hands in his, as he slid a ring on the third finger of her left hand... Then I caught more flashes of them, the two, through the years, moving on, growing apart. Her hair darkened and lost some of its wave, and she eventually chose to cut it shorter. He lost one eye, and gained a number of scars; though perhaps the most important part was that never again did he look at anyone the way he'd looked at her during those days...

I blinked once, and the flashes ended, and all I could see anymore was the corner where a man and a woman had disappeared seconds (minutes?) before. I looked away, and ended meeting Mama's eyes. She was looking at me and for a moment I wondered if she'd perhaps seen her aunt following Nick Fury. Did she have any idea of the kind of history those two shared? The potential that still existed between them? The bond...? Yes, I knew the answer in a second, she knew, and she approved. I smiled.

The impromptu meeting/party (was it even right to be calling it a party when it hadn't been quite planned, and were still in a cemetery?) ended with Mama singing. Which wasn't exactly a surprise, all things considered. I hadn't heard the song before, though that wasn't especially important. I liked it though. There was one part in particular, which she repeated several times:

"Just wait
Though wide he may roam
Always
A hero comes home"

I liked those lines, because they seemed to somehow capture all my hopes. A hero comes home... The mess with Hydra had come to an end, and we'd all managed to come home. Whether that home was a city, a country, a ranch... or even just a person, was irrelevant. As long as there was something we could call home, that was enough. I could only hope that whatever might come our way in the future we (all of us) would always find our way home. I chose to believe it was possible, I put my faith in it, and in all the people I loved. It was something I'd been doing for years, and I'd never stop doing... it had worked well thus far. Yes, we'd all come home, always.

Chapter Text

Blue Rose

Some call it Impossible, others Eternal, in the end Love is what we want it to be.

I flailed, hands extended, clenching, trying to clasp something that wasn't there, that technically had never been. I was panting and it took me almost a full minute to regulate my breathing again and for the candles around me to go off again (I'd tried sleeping without candles, but it was worse, because then fires appeared elsewhere and people tended to freak out, even when I didn't actually destroy anything).

It was stressful, because the exact same thing had been happening to me for almost a month, and I still had no idea what it meant; in complete opposite to usual I didn't remember what I dreamt, only the sense that whatever I was reaching for was important, that I needed it like I needed air to breathe... corny as that might sound.

Since I knew that no matter how hard about it I wouldn't be solving the mystery I chose to instead focus on other things. My parents were gone, they'd taken off for Asgard, and from there other planets. I could still remember that day, I'd probably always remember that day, not because of the goodbye (it's not like it was the first time Mama and Papa went away for a while), but because of the vision I'd had that day:

Five colorful pieces of some material unlike any other known element, and which shone with a light of their own, they seemed to be enveloped by a black-red cloud of particles in constant motion. Though I'd never seen any of them before, I knew instantly I was looking at the Infinity Stones... Then I got to see each one of them, the last time most had been used, and what was probably their most recent location. I knew I was the only one to possess such knowledge, the kind some would kill for; so I pushed it to the back of my head, where it'd be safe.

There was a shift and then I was looking at half a dozen enormous inhuman beings that I knew possessed power beyond imagination, and looks I couldn't quite describe, even as I looked at them, like their very existence was beyond my comprehension... There was a world, one that was none of the Nine Realms, and almost like pieces of all of them at the same time; I knew I'd seen it before, but couldn't recall when exactly, or why. It was like a perfect world, a balanced mix of everything; of all the places, and races (elves, dwarves, humans, magical beings, and even some that had been lost through the ages)... and then it was gone, all of it, and in its place stood nine worlds, the realms as they were known, all connected by the Great Tree: Yggdrasil...

Then came It: It was hard to define, because if on one side we were to have good, creation, light, life... then that creature was all the opposite, yet it wasn't about evil, or destruction, or darkness or death; it went beyond all that, while at the same time being much more elemental. The being was, simply put, the absence of everything, a blank space in existence, and that's what made it so dangerous. Because it existed outside nature, and therefore its laws couldn't control it. I wasn't sure anything could.

I had known what I was looking at even before Papa said it: Thanos, the Mad Titan.

I knew Mama and Papa had managed to pick up on pieces of the vision, though not all, because the Sight wasn't their gift but mine, and thus their minds weren't made to comprehend such things the way mine could. Still, I shared with them one more thing, only one, I told them the location of the Power Stone. It was important. Whether Thanos went after it before moving on towards our world, or he waited until afterwards it didn't matter, that stone was as much his target as the rest. Which meant they needed to know, and so did the Xandarians.

What I didn't tell my parents was about the group that had been (would be? It was hard to tell) in contact with that Stone, they'd actually touched it, and survived! It was so rare, other than them I only knew one person to have come in direct contact with one of the Stones and have survived: Jane, with the Aether. Even if it had happened unwillingly on her part, she'd touched the Reality Stone, and not only that, it had been inside her, and she'd managed to survive...

And... well, there were other things but they weren't relevant for the time being.

The worst part? The worst part was that I thought I knew evil. Beyond baseline humans and gifted that could do evil things; I'd seen Apocalypse, Brainiac, Doomsday... I had seen them, and many more, and I thought I knew what evil looked like... I hadn't the slightest idea. Thanos was more than that, he went beyond them in ways I couldn't fully explain. And that... the lack of explanation more so than the being itself, that terrified me. Because how can you hope to fight that which you cannot even begin to understand? It was like fighting against fear, without even knowing what you were afraid of exactly.

xXx

The months that followed the reveal of Hydra (which, people in certain circles had begun to call the 'Secret War'; mostly because, while most of the confrontations that first week had been pretty public, the ones that followed were less so) were quite eventful. The team, which had officially taken the name of 'Sentinels' at Skye's suggestion had been working like crazy. With the Bus and an attached quinjet (Hill actually passed on the information where we could get one the military hadn't managed to find yet) we went around, tracking down Hydra bases, checking old SHIELD locations, and helping wherever we might be needed.

It wasn't easy, not everyone was willing to accept our help, but we still didn't stop trying. We'd also met a number of people along the way. Some even former SHIELD Agents who'd decided to keep fighting as well, either on their own, or joining some other group. A specially memorable case was that of Kebo, he had actually been Hydra, a friend of Grant who'd decided he didn't much care for the criminal organization, or at least he cared more about Grant's friendship. He became one of our informants even as he made a new life.

It was Kebo who brought a certain Hydra-allied lab to our attention. FitzSimmons had gone undercover for several weeks, which made the rest of the team stress out so much they were actually driving me crazy! In the end, it went well, we dismantled the operation, captured a man who'd later lead us to most of the remaining leaders of Hydra, and even managed to rescue a former SHIELD Agent who was being brainwashed and tortured: Kara Palamas. She chose to retire from active duty, once she'd recovered, and actually expressed a desire to open a Mexican-food restaurant somewhere in California. We'd all promised to be there for the inauguration.

One particularly curious detail from that mission was when FitzSimmons reported that one of the guards had actually helped them, when they were forced to flee, instead of trying to capture or kill them. They had no idea who she might be, though they claimed she reminded them of Darcy when she used her sticks...

Also, in a somewhat unrelated thing... Leo had finally gotten the guts to ask Jemma to marry him! The way they explained it, several of the scientists where they'd been undercover had been hitting on Jemma, and she and Leo had made up that they were together in order to get them to leave her alone. The more they built on their fictional relationship the more they realized it was actually possible... so, if they'd been together for about a decade already, why not go ahead and marry? It was probably only really logical to the two of them, but it worked, so everyone was very happy for the two of them.

There was a bit of a situation in the Fridge in October. We got there too late. Half of the artifacts were gone, same as the prisoners, we had no idea who'd done it, other than it was someone who had access to the Fridge (which meant a connection to the Fridge; though whether that meant SHIELD or Hydra we had no way of knowing for sure). Ian Quinn was dead, apparently he'd been killed in the chaos (something that brought relief to more than one of us), the gravitonium was still there, surprisingly enough (and we immediately transported it to the ranch, where it'd be safer), however, the escaped convicts gave us trouble (and more work in the following weeks). Among them were: Marcus Daniels, a gifted obsessed with Phil's ex-girlfriend: the cellist Audrey Nathan. The mission to capture him again brought us close to her, though she never did see Phil. And then there was Raina... though none of us could find her (I had a bad feeling she'd pop up when we least expected her... or wanted her).

A rather elaborate, and brilliant plan allowed us to create a situation that pushed all but one or two of the remaining 'heads' of Hydra to pretty much kill each other near the end of the year. When going through their files we also found the location of a black-site in Siberia, and the name of one of the heads that hadn't been present: Gideon Malick.

The first part was supposed to be easy, and perhaps that was why something ended going wrong. We got to Siberia alright, but we underestimated the security in the place, to the point that those inside managed to activate a self-destruct sequence. We barely got everyone out in time; and probably wouldn't have managed if Shadowcat and Colossus hadn't happened to be with us for that particular mission. It was something we did every-so-often, mix-up with members of other teams, learn to work together. It allowed us to create bonds, and I was sure the Alliance was stronger than ever.

The real trouble however wasn't the destruction of that base, but the fact that while we found out there was another highly classified base somewhere in Eastern Europe, we'd no idea where it might be exactly. Which was why we'd spent the following weeks combing through every possible location in Eastern Europe... the task was beginning to drive us all crazy, and even my powers were being no good.

The second piece of information we'd gotten, the name of Gideon Malick... after the disaster in Siberia Phil had insisted we be more careful. Which was how Grant (with some assistance from Kebo) ended going undercover. The mission: infiltrate Malick's circle, investigate both Gideon and his daughter Stephanie; if the daughter was innocent only the father would be assassinated, and Grant had to make it look like an accident, to make sure she wouldn't seek revenge; if she turned out to be Hydra as well...

Skye hadn't liked Grant going pretty much on his own, but eventually understood that it wasn't a matter of him (or anyone else) not trusting her, rather that he didn't want her to see him like that. Also, it was dangerous to send a pair into a high-risk mission when they were emotionally involved, they compromised each other and that wasn't a good idea. When the pairs in question were experienced enough they could learn to trust themselves and the other enough to minimize the risk; which was what Clint and Natasha, and even Phil and Darcy had done; but Skye was still too young, and Grant was too new at trusting others, and especially at being in a relationship. So it was better if they waited to have more experience before going together on such missions.

In the end it became a good opportunity for Skye to do what we all knew a part of her had been wanting since my parents gave her the name of her birth-parents: track them down. For months she'd been using Sentinel training and missions as excuses not to do it; but with Grant on his mission; Clint and Natasha off trying to lessen the number of potential Hydra locations in Eastern Europe; Mike spending a little vacation in Smallville for his son's birthday and Melinda taking a few days of her own to meet with her ex-husband... Skye and FitzSimmons were actually pretty convinced those two were on their way to reconciling... the two had been meeting at least one weekend a month for at least six months... ever since Phil had insisted on Dr. Garner 'assessing' everyone to see how they were taking the whole 'Hydra-situation'. I didn't tell them, but I knew there was potential there, if those two only gave themselves the chance...

In any case, with all of them gone, FitzSimmons had decided to take the opportunity to visit their families in England (apparently they'd yet to inform them of their engagement...). Which left only Phil, Darcy, Skye and myself... It took two days, but finally Skye asked the question. Phil not only gave his permission, but he offered to take her to China in the quinjet. And so we went.

We combed through what was probably half of the Hunan Province, before eventually ending in the 'ghost town' in late March of 2017.

"Why are we even here?" Skye asked, looking all around. "The place is empty."

I wasn't sure why, but an instinct had told me we needed to be there. Still, I wasn't expecting it when a half-insane man appeared out of nowhere and attacked us. No matter how hard we hit him, nothing made him go down. And then another man appeared, literally out-of-nowhere. I got a bad feeling and tried to approach Skye, who I sensed was being herded, but before I could reach her the man with the glasses was suddenly beside her, and then they were both gone. Completely. He was a teleporter and he'd just taken her... he'd kidnapped my daughter!

xXx

The following week was the worst of my life. I got in touch with every contact I had, called in every favor I was owed. Witches, psychics, skinwalkers, mutants, metas, shamans, loup-garou; all sorts of gifted, enhanced, and even some baseline humans who knew their trade better than most. A friend of Red's who identified herself simply as Liz warned me about Daniel Whitehall, also known as Werner Reinhardt; the man had apparently been Hydra, near the top back in the forties, when Agent Carter and the Commandos had caught him, put him behind bars. Only for him to get released in the early nineties on 'compassionate grounds'. He'd gotten a new HQs in Austria, and there were rumors of the terrible experiments he'd conducted there.

Raymond knew about all that because one of his contacts had sold him the information in the late nineties and he'd been keeping it in case it'd be useful. He hadn't thought much of it, until he heard of my search. Because for it I hadn't only used my name, or my daughter's, I was using the names of the birth-parents that Mama and Papa had given us. I called them 'people of interest'; but of course those with Red's experience knew how to read between the lines. The reason why Whitehall should interest me? Because he'd butchered a woman back in 93', her name? Jiaying. There were also rumors about a man who'd been looking for her, completely devoted and half-psychotic; he went by Cal.

The moment I heard that part I got a really, really bad feeling about it all.

Seven days after the kidnapping we were back in the little ghost town trying to find something, anything, that might lead us to Skye. It was Victor who found the little white-plastic ring on the dirt-street (Hakon had heard what was going on but he was in the middle of a case, so he'd asked Victor to lend me a hand, hoping the feral mutant's abilities as a tracker would be useful... even if neither of us was sure how exactly, since she'd been teleported away). There was the slightest trace of Skye's blood on the ring, it was how Victor found it.

In the instant before he dropped it onto my hand I had a premonition that had nothing to do with my powers themselves: this was it. And I was right, the moment the ring touched the palm of my hand I was swallowed by visions. I saw, in less than a minute, what my daughter had been going through since that day, and I knew, without a doubt, that she was calling to me...

It was like that day, when I'd had my first vision, when I'd needed to get to Willow, to save her before the fire got to her. I didn't know if the pull had always been there and somehow I'd missed it or (more likely) what I'd been missing was an anchor, something to guide me. Like that little ring, which Skye had had since she was eight years old, since she'd got it inside a piece of candy I bought her during our first shopping trip. It was a symbol of our connection, of our family bond, and it was guiding me.

"We need to go." I announced, out-loud, holding onto the ring tightly. "Now."

"You know where to go?" Phil asked, completely focused right then.

"I do." I nodded. "And we need to hurry."

We got on the quinjet and then we were off.

It couldn't have been easy, to fly that craft following instructions I was giving. I had no location, no coordinates, nothing but a sense that was pulling at me, like a magnet. Still, it'd be enough, it had to. I was getting my little girl back, no matter what.

I wasn't sure how it happened, I certainly didn't plan it. While I played the piano every so often, wherever I might be (had even had the opportunity to play it a few times for my daughter and the team in the past few months), I hadn't sung since that day in Smallville, in the aftermath of the attempted-alien-invasion... yet in that moment, I didn't think about it, I just went and did it:

"No time for rest
No pillow for my head
Nowhere to run from this
No way to forget"

"Around the shadows creep
Like friends, they cover me
Just wanna lay me down and finally
Try to get some sleep"

"We carry on through the storm
Tired soldiers in this war
Remember what we're fighting for"

"Meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage
And you will be mine"

"Echoes and the shots ring out
We may be the first to fall
Everything can stay the same or we could change it all
Meet me on the battlefield"

It was insane, beyond anything that might have happened to me before. We were still in the air, and I'd still nudge Darcy this way and that as necessary, and yet I couldn't stop singing, it was like a part of me needed to do it; like there was an energy inside me that needed to be let out and a song was the only way I knew how (I wondered if Mama felt that way, if that was why she did it, why she called it her special brand of catharsis). And somehow I didn't miss a single cue, my mind was following two completely different lines of thought at the same time, and it wasn't making me crazy (or least no crazier than I'd been earlier that day... or my whole life, really).

"We're standing face-to-face
With our own human race
We commit the sins again and our sons and daughters pay
Our tainted history, is playing on repeat
But we could change it if we stand up strong and take the lead"

"When I was younger, I was named
A generation unafraid
For heirs to come, be brave"

"And meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage
And you will be mine"

"Echos and the shots ring out
We may be the first to fall
Everything can stay the same or we could change it all
Meet me on the battlefield"

I could tell that they were all throwing odd looks at me, though no one tried to interrupt me, not even Victor, they just let me go on. I wondered if they thought the song was something especial, something magical... wondered what they would think if they knew there was nothing magical about it, and yet even I did not know where it was coming from in the first place. It was... it was almost as if some external force were pushing me to do it, to sing, to call to someone else. And I didn't understand! It was like the bloody dreams all over again! Waking up gasping, reaching for something that wasn't there, and not having the slightest idea of what it was supposed to be, because since all that madness had begun I hadn't been able to remember a single dream I'd had!

"We carry on through the storm
Tired soldiers in this war
Remember what we're fighting for"

"Meet me on the battlefield
Even on the darkest night
I will be your sword and shield, your camouflage
And you will be mine"

"Echos and the shots ring out
We may be the first to fall
Everything could stay the same or we could change it all
(We can change it all)
Meet me on the battlefield
Meet me on the battlefield
(We could change it all)"

xXx Skye's POV xXx

"MOM!" I was still screaming at the top of my lungs when I felt ground beneath my feet again.

I knew even without asking that we weren't in the ghost-town anymore, I'd been teleported or something. My eyes went instantly to my finger... my bare finger. I didn't even know what made me do it, but an instinct had pushed me into slipping the ring off in the last second. I could only hope Mama would find it, and that it'd somehow help her, or one of her friends, find me.

I soon learned that I was in a place called Afterlife, a safe-haven for a very particular group of people. The man who'd gotten me there was called Gordon, he was a gifted with two abilities: teleporting and finding others of his kind... and therein lay the problem, because apparently he'd been tracking me.

That was just the start, things got even more interesting afterwards. The 'people' in Afterlife were called Inhumans, according to a story I was told; many, many years in the past an alien species known as the Kree had arrived to Earth, they'd experimented on humans, and while at first no particular effects were obvious, they came to be seen in the following generations. When the descendants of those who'd been experimented on came in contact with something called 'terrigen mist', they changed, 'terrigenesis' they called it; a sudden mutation, abilities manifested, some times accompanied by physical changes. Like Gordon, he had those powers, he also had no eyes.

I was introduced to another young inhuman, he was no more than a handful of years older than me, his name was Lincoln Campbell and while he had no physical mutation, he had the gift of electromagnetism, which allowed him to do some cool stuff... he even made me float once. He was also what his people called a Transitioner, one who helped others who went through the Terrigenesis; he was chosen to be my transitioner... and that was when things started getting complicated. Well, they were from the start, but that was when I had to stop pretending to be cool with everything going on around me, like the fact that I'd been forcefully taken away from my friends, that I was told people were free to come and go as they pleased yet they weren't letting me leave, or that the woman I knew to be my mother acted like I was nothing to her at all. Like she had no idea who I was, which just wasn't possible, I knew she had to have at least recognized the necklace (more than a few people had commented on it, on the Chinese inscriptions...).

"My transitioner?!" I blurted out, unable to keep hiding my feelings after what Lincoln had just said. "But I don't want a transitioner. I have no intention of going through that terri-whatever. I'm perfectly happy as I am!"

"But you could be so much more!" He exclaimed. "Don't you understand? You're one of us! We're your people, your family."

"I already have a family." I snapped. "Your friends kidnapped me from them a week ago!"

"You would choose humans over your own kind?" Lincoln sounded completely disbelieving.

"My own kind?" I scoffed. "I consider myself human and have no intention to be anything else. Though, let me tell you, even if I were to be an inhuman, I would still choose them! I would choose those whom I love and who love me."

"You would chose them over us?" A voice unexpectedly asked. "Over your own family?"

I didn't even need to turn to know Jiaying was there, but while Lincoln immediately stepped back and bowed his head respectfully, I stood tall, defiant.

"What family?!" I almost snarled at her. "The father being kept in a cage like a wild animal? Or the mother who keeps acting like I don't even exist?"

She was shocked, I could see it in her eyes. Though I wasn't sure which part surprised her most...

"What surprises you?" I asked, brow arched. "That I know where Cal is? Or that I know who my parents are at all?"

"You will not talk to me that way young lady." Jiaying stated suddenly, voice hard. "I'm still your mother and..."

"You're nothing to me." I hissed.

It was as if some invisible cord had snapped, some bond I hadn't known was there. And then... then everything really went crazy.

An old man rushed in Jiaying's direction, yelling about their sanctuary having been found, about trespassers... I couldn't help it, I smiled widely. Mom had found me!

"Why are you smiling?" Lincoln looked at me like I was crazy. "Didn't you hear? We're all in danger! We're being invaded."

"You're being invaded, not me." I answered calmly. "Mom's here."

"I am." Jiaying began, sounding almost smug.

"Not you." I rolled my eyes at her. "I told you before. You're nothing to me. I meant my mom."

The sincerity of my words surprised even myself. For so many years I'd been looking for my parents. I'd learned every dirty hacking trick, joined the Rising Tide, even SHIELD, while trying to find them and yet... and yet at some point they stopped being the focus. It took me a while but eventually I realized I didn't need to find my birth-parents, because I already had a family, one I'd never doubt loved me, and that I loved them... I needed nothing more. In the end blood and the bonds it might create wasn't the be-all, end-all.

Yes, Mom had a blood-connection with her Mama and Papa; but as she'd explain to me, that didn't mean that the two loved her any more or less than they did their other children; not their eldest biological child: Helena; nor their adopted children: Willow and Hakon. There was more to family than blood, a lot more. And once I realized that, I knew I was no longer alone, I had family (a huge one!), Jiaying and Cal... they might have brought me to the world, but that didn't make them my parents. Rose was my mom, and AC... he was like my dad, and I had a bunch of quasi-siblings, and cousins, aunts, uncles... Who could ask for any more than that?

It was absolute mayhem. Soon it became pretty obvious that Jiaying wasn't willing to let me go without a fight, and other Inhumans followed her commands. And not just that. Cal was let out of his cage, and then I found out why exactly he'd been locked up... he was like a monster. He was fast, strong, nothing seemed to be able to hurt him for long... and he was quite insane.

Lincoln tried to stop me, and I took him down with some hand-to-hand. He tried to use his ability against me, but I was simply too fast for him.

"You might be gifted, but I'm a Sentinel." I told him proudly.

"Skye, heads up!" Someone called behind me.

I didn't need to look, after delivering a kick that pushed Lincoln back I went into a spin, catching the gun as it was thrown at me. I then finished my spin just in time to shoot it at the Inhuman, a second before he could shoot his electromagnetic energy at me. He went down cold.

"Daisy?!" I heard someone call me.

Before Cal could get to me, someone else distracted him. I had no idea who he was, except he looked even more dangerous than my birth-father; yet in his eyes I could see something Cal lacked: self-control.

In the end I decided to ignore them and instead went looking for my mom. Darcy, for she was the one who'd thrown me the gun, was back-to-back with AC, taking down anyone who dared get too close with them. And my mom... she was facing off against Jiaying herself.

At first I didn't understand why the fight was going on for so long. Why didn't mom just defeat her already? And then it hit me. Jiaying was, technically, my birth-mother, mom would never do anything to hurt her, believing it'd mean hurting me in turn. It only made me love her more. Even as I realized the inherent danger. I was about to tell her not to worry about it, to just end it, when Jiaying unexpectedly pulled an object from her jacket. It was about a palm long, slim, an almost enchanting blue, with swirls of gray... I knew what it was instantly, even though it'd only been described to me once, and only in passing: a terrigen crystal. I remembered something else too: the mist created by it was deadly to all not inhuman.

I didn't even think about it, I knew there was no time to stop Jiaying, the crystal was already falling. I also knew mom wouldn't use her fire on it unless she'd had a vision about the danger, and she'd had none for weeks! I wasn't sure if it'd actually affect her, since she wasn't really human, but that was a risk I simply wasn't willing to take. And so I moved, I stood before my mom, making myself into a shield... then the crystal broke and the mist hit me...

For a fraction of a second nothing seemed to happen at all and then... I could feel the beat of my own heart, going faster and faster; stone seemed to rise from the ground to envelope me, and for a handful of seconds I thought the earth was going to consume me. I wanted to scream yet couldn't find my voice and then... and then I heard her calling.

"Skye!"

I responded instinctively to her, to Mom's voice. The force of my will shattered the stone around me, the... it looked almost like a cocoon! But it didn't stop there, no, the same force that had shattered that stone kept pouring off me in waves. I was shaking, either in nervousness, fear, or something else... Only, as I realized seconds later, I wasn't the one shaking; or at least not the only one shaking, no, the earth beneath my feet was shaking too... the whole mountain. It seemed as if Afterlife as a whole would fall upon itself and...

"I'm here darling, I'm here..." Mom was suddenly there, holding me in her arms, whispering in my ear. "I'm here, you're safe."

I believed her. How could I not? And just like that, the shaking stopped and I let out a breath.

"Was that me?" I asked in a small voice, half-amazed and half-terrified.

"Yes, it was you." She agreed, and I could hear the smile even if I couldn't see her, as she was still behind me. "I always knew you were amazing, darling. Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with you. This might be new, but it's a gift, and we will teach you to control it."

Again, I did not doubt her words for a second. She'd never lied to me. Even if I couldn't begin to imagine how I was supposed to learn to control such power, I still believed her.

Our attention was called back to the front as Jiaying seemed to collapse abruptly for no reason at all. I was about to question what was going on, it's not like anyone had attacked her; when we all heard the roar; a cry that carried so much pain and fury I shivered... Mom just held me tighter.

"YOU KILLED HER!" Cal yelled, the cry of a wild animal about to snap. "You killed my wife! The love of my life! You..."

"She was already dead." Mom's voice could have shattered steel in that moment, it certainly broke off his tirade.

"What?!" Cal wasn't the only one shocked by the revelation.

"Jiaying, the real Jiaying Johnson was already dead, she's been dead since April 8th, 1993." Mom explained, very quietly. "When Whitehall took her and... did the things he did to her. She died..." She sounded actually mournful as she explained, grieving a woman neither she nor I had ever known, and yet, if it weren't for her, I wouldn't exist, and we'd have never met. "She never came back Calvin, not really. You might have put her body back together, and her ability might have reanimated it, but her soul was long gone. Her soul has long since moved on... It's also why you can't quite focus anymore, why you feel like you are going more and more insane every day. Your soul is calling for hers, but it's not there anymore. It hasn't been for many years."

"Then how...?" He asked, he sounded so lost.

"She was soulless." Mom explained. "Her body going on, pushing to finish what she started before dying. Making sure her people were safe, and her daughter..."

And suddenly I understood. That was why she'd collapsed when seeing me in mom's arms; she'd seen that I was alright, that I wasn't alone, that I was safe... I broke into tears. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground, bringing mom with me, though she didn't seem to mind.

"Oh honey..." Mom whispered softly, cradling me against her chest.

"I don't even know why I'm crying..." I admitted to her in a sob. "I mean, it's not like I ever knew her. Just a few minutes ago I even told her she wasn't anything to me! You're my mom, the only one I need. Then why can't I stop crying?!"

"Because she's your mother too." She explained to me calmly as she ran a hand through my hair soothingly. "I told you once, many years ago, that having one family didn't mean we couldn't also have another; the only limits the heart has are those we impose upon it ourselves. You loving her, considering her your mother, doesn't mean I have to stop being your mom as well. We both love you, and it's alright for you to love us both. Even if you hadn't seen her since you were a babe. She brought you into this world, she fought like hell for you, and she loved you. She was your mom, even if she made mistakes. And in the end... in the end she loved you enough to let you go, so much that seeing you alright was enough to finally let her rest, for good."

I knew, without her saying it, that the same applied to Cal too.

And so there we were, sitting in the middle of the Inhuman Sanctuary, and no one seemed to know what to do. Their leader had just died... well no, apparently she'd been dead for more than twenty years, and none of them had known. I couldn't imagine what that must mean for them all. I was having enough of a shock already; which of course was probably why she chose that very moment to reveal herself. She, Raina... because apparently she was Inhuman too. She was the one who'd told Jia... my parents about me. She'd gone through terrigenesis, which had left her with her body covered in thorns and the gift of premonition. I'd learned about her even before I knew about Cal (technically she was the one to guide me to him), I still wasn't quite sure what to think about her. On the one hand, she was the one who'd put AC in that stupid machine that caused him awful pain; on the other, she had apologized for her past actions, explaining how lost she'd felt, wanting something and not knowing what it was, wanting to find her place in the world... I knew what that felt like; I'd felt exactly the same way before joining AC and his team...

"Hail Daisy Johnson, Queen of the Inhumans!" She called loudly.

Everyone around her (all but my family), soon picked up on the words and began chanting them. And then I remembered that I really, really didn't like Raina...

xXx Rose's POV xXx

I wasn't surprised when Calvin passed away before the end of the day. For 24 years he'd been holding on (to both life and sanity) by a thread, his missing daughter the only focus. He'd done a great many bad things; I knew he alone was responsible for dozens of deaths in the last two decades; in his attempt to get Daisy back. At the same time, I understood him (I was also quite sure Papa would have done much, much worse if either of his children had ever been taken away from him...). And I tried to make Skye understand:

"I'm not telling you to forgive him, or to believe what he did was right." I told her softly. "It most definitely wasn't right, and forgiveness is up to you in the end."

"He was going crazy because J... mother was no longer here, then?" She wanted to clarify.

"It's the dark side of the soulmates." I nodded sadly. "The part no one likes thinking about. Most of them, if they're lucky, die with their match; those that don't... they go crazy as their soul keeps trying to reach their other half, and not being able to find it. It's a pain few can ever understand, and I hope you never have to."

"You've felt it." She realized, and she was so sad as she said it.

"Not completely." I let out a breath. "Peter and I... we weren't bound when he died. But I did love him, and I like to think he felt something for me, however small it might have been. I also knew we were a match... It was his loss that made me leave Westchester; I couldn't stay there anymore. It was one thing doing so after he left; I had the hope he'd return, some day, to us all. But with him dead that hope was gone, and I just couldn't handle it anymore. I went to the ranch and pretty much disconnected from the rest of the world for five years,"

"I don't think he'd have wanted that." She offered quietly. "If he loved you... and even if he just saw you as a friend."

"No, he wouldn't have." I agreed. "I realized that eventually. It was when I went back to nursing. Took a new name, began a new life, I still couldn't bring myself to going back to New York. And a few years later you came into my life."

"I'm glad for that." She murmured, curling into my side. "I don't know what my life would have been like if I'd never met you, but I don't think it'd have been this good."

"I'm also happy to have met you." I agreed. "Even if I'm not obvious about it. I do love you Skye. Blood or no blood, you're my daughter, and that will never change."

"I know." She nodded. "Love you too mom."

In the end Skye decided to turn Daisy Johnson into a kind of cover. It was the name she used when she wanted to go unnoticed; while Skye was the name she used as a Sentinel.

In the end Cal died peacefully. He got the chance to apologize to his daughter, got to hear her say she loved him. He was particularly happy when I told him who my parents were exactly, made me promise to give them his best, and to assure them he did not blame them for anything. Skye sat beside him until the end, while I prayed in a mix of Elvish and Norse, mentally asking my big sister to let him pass, to take mercy on his soul and allow Cal to reunite with Jiaying. May they find peace together on the Other Side.

It took Skye close to a month to get a hang on her powers, or at least the basics. It frustrated her sometimes, until we got a visit from Jean, who calmly informed her exactly how long it'd taken her to gain full control of her own gifts, and how dangerous it'd been for a while there. My daughter was in awe, she knew Phoenix was one of the most powerful mutants in the planet. I knew she didn't think she could compare, but Skye was still young, I'd a feeling one day her power would be on the same level as Phoenix's. My daughter, the most powerful Inhuman...

And there came Raina's announcement that day in Afterlife. Skye had hated in, and she'd insisted to have us leave as soon as we could. Raina claimed that she'd had a vision, it was Daisy's destiny to lead the Inhumans, much like her mother had for over a century (though hopefully better). That part had made her nervous enough, but when Yat-Sen (the head of the Elders) had claimed that as their future Queen Daisy (they refused to call her Skye) ought to stay, study and eventually marry well... that was when my girl snapped:

"Look, I don't know what power you think you have over me, but hear me now, and hear me well, you have no power over me at all." She stated, quietly but strongly. "You want to teach me about the Inhumans, about my family, by all means, do so. I wouldn't mind that. That doesn't mean I will be your Queen, I have no intention of ruling anyone; I'm a Sentinel, and happy enough. Next, you will not be marrying me off to anyone; I am not property, or cattle, and you will not treat me as such. I am my own person, and I already have a boyfriend. Yes, he's human, either deal with it or just forget about us altogether, at this point I don't care which!"

In the end it was decided that the Elders would handle the day-to-day situation in Afterlife. Raina was granted a similar status, with her ability to use her visions to better look after the Inhumans. They were also given a cellphone they could use to contact the Sentinels if they ever needed help. Finally, there were some tentative talks about establishing relations with other groups, like the mutants, or the Smallville metas. The Inhuman community as a whole had been isolated for so long, Skye though they really needed to reconnect with the world.

A part of me couldn't help but honestly believe that one day Skye just might be the Queen Raina had named her as, perhaps when she was ready. I hadn't had any visions about it; but then again, I hadn't had any visions whatsoever for months (none aside from the dreams I couldn't really remember at least) so...

So by mid-May Skye had some good basic control over her new power. It actually went beyond making the earth shake. As it happened, she could feel the vibrations of everything and everyone around her, and while most of the time she'd just hear them; when she focused on it, she could alter those vibrations, it did everything from creating music, to vibrating things, breaking them apart, and a bunch of other things. It was amazing...

"You're magnificent." I told her one day, after her training ended.

Skye just lowered her head, bashful; I knew she had trouble believing it, after so long feeling inferior, it wasn't easy to convince her that she was great, but I kept trying. And so did Grant.

Grant had returned the day after we'd gotten Skye back. His mission was over. It'd turned out that Stephanie had been Hydra, even more of a fanatic than her father. Apparently Grant had gotten distracted, when learning of Skye's abduction, the distraction had made him careless, made Miss Malick suspect everyone of her father's death. She'd created a sick game which had ended with more than half a dozen people dead, herself included. Grant had then torched the property in order to get rid of the bodies and hide his connection to any of it.

He'd been a great support for Skye during her training; continually reassuring her of his love, his acceptance. His trust was vital in helping her calm down whenever she began losing control.

FitzSimmons had helped too. They'd created a pair of elbow-length finger-less, reinforced gloves that looked mostly like light-armor, though inside they'd wiring that helped Skye with her gift. They allowed her to discharge safely when she got overly emotional (keeping it in was dangerous as we soon discovered, doing so caused her powers to turn on her, cracking her bones and hurting her inside); they also helped when she was doing detail work, like vibrating a gun apart (she'd eventually be able to do such things on her own, but she was still relatively new at it).

At Skye's insistence, the moment we all agreed she had her ability under control, we all boarded the Bus and went straight to Austria. The plan: find Whitehall, make sure he would never hurt another like he did Jiaying and Calvin...

After three days we had to admit defeat. The majority of both SHIELD and Hydra bases in the country were empty, more than half of them were actually rubble. We were standing just outside the last one, on the outskirts of Graz, Austria, when we got a surprise.

"There's someone in the trees." Skye said suddenly. "I can sense them."

I too could sense their emotions, and it was more than one person.

"Who's there?" Phil called loudly, gun in hand. "What do you want?"

"I believe we should be the ones asking that, this is our territory after all." A female voice called.

A woman stepped out of the trees then: straight blonde-hair to her shoulder blades, forest-green eyes, she looked to be in her mid-twenties and was wearing an ice-blue sleeveless loose top and washed-out blue jeans, I also noticed she was barefoot. I recognized her instantly.

"Vivian..." I called her with a small smile, bowing my head just a bit in respect.

"Trandafir..." She called me in turn, a Romanian word in an American accent.

"Who is she?" Phil asked, looking weary.

"What did she call you?" Skye asked almost at the same time.

"She called me Rose, in Romanian." I answered my daughter first, then turned to the blonde. "Vivian. These are the Sentinels, they are good friends of mine, whom I trust. Skye here is the daughter of my heart. You may trust them as you trust me..."

"They're pack?" She wanted me to clarify.

"Yes." I nodded.

Vivian nodded, giving a step back and extending a hand to a side. It was soon taken by a man in his late twenties, with grayish-blue eyes, curly black hair and some facial hair; he was wearing a forest-green button up with the top two buttons undone, black jeans and black combat boots, he was also visibly armed with a rifle slung on his back, a smaller gun in a holster beneath his left arm and handles of what looked like knives in both boots. It was somewhat shocking if one considered Vivian had no weapons on her (then again, those of us who knew Vivian, knew she was a weapon in and of herself).

"My name is Vivian, this is my husband Aiden." She announced in an even tone, layered with power. "I am the alpha of the loup-garou pack."

"Lou-garou?" Fitz repeated.

"Werewolves?" Simmons inquired almost at the same time.

"Pretty much, though not the ones most people think of." Vivian stated. "On us it's not a curse but a blessing; also, we're in no way tied to the moon, though we do celebrate its phases and enjoy the nights of the full moon especially." She shook her head. "Transdafir has called you family, and I respect her like I respect very few outside my family, will you tell me what you're doing here? Why are you standing on cursed ground?"

"Cursed ground?" Mike inquired, confused.

"The people here caused great hurt and grief, even with them now gone, the blood of their victims has seeped into the ground, so much that most supernatural beings prefer to keep their distance from this place." Aiden explained seriously. "The locals even believe it to be cursed."

"Gone?" Darcy was the first to pick up on that part. "Whitehall and his cronies are gone?"

"I don't know what their names were, but yes, they're gone." Vivian hissed in an almost predatory manner. "I made sure of it myself."

"This man you called Whitehall, he kidnapped and tortured several members of the pack." Aiden clarified. "He intended to do the same with our own daughter: Nadia. Others had already gone to us, asking for our help... him daring to touch Nadia just made things worse..."

"So you killed him then..." Phil murmured, looking straight at Vivian.

"I..." The blonde hesitated, even without a vision I saw what her hesitation meant.

"No." Aiden intervened. "I did. The bastard messed with the wrong family. I may not be loup-garou myself. But I'm not weak, or a coward."

No one had any doubt about it. I, in particular, could still remember when I'd first met those two, more than five years earlier. They were living in Munich, after having lived in Paris, Lyon, Geneva, Milan, Venice; some instinct pushing them to move every so often... until Vivian became pregnant. Back then they'd been so much in love, even after years together, and yet so afraid; I'd never been sure what they were more afraid of, their differences or the possibility of the pack finding them and turning against them... Well, apparently neither of them had proven to be true, so that was something.

As the team began chatting more with the Galvins, especially Skye and Grant, I began to wonder if the leaders of the loup-garou might be able to help Skye (and to a lesser degree Grant) deal with their own fear, not just of their growing relationship, but also of her destiny, as the chosen Queen of the Inhumans...

In any case, at least Whitehall and his minions were gone, one less scumbag to worry about.

xXx

The next mess we got into was more or less our own fault. Or more like Skye's and Grant's. Christian Ward was a federal Senator who was pressing for changes in the legislation against the gifted and against teams like us Sentinels. He had a powerful voice in the Senate, and enough money and influence that not many dared to openly oppose him. His strongest opponent was in fact Senator Kent; but even he had to be careful, as he knew that talking too much might end up putting his family, and Smallville as a whole at risk.

At some point Skye and Grant decided it was time to take down Christian. They'd gathered all sorts of files and other proofs of the things the Ward family had done in the past: the abuse (verbal, emotional and physical), the bullying, what looked like bribes, extortion and a whole lot more. There was even mention of the attempted murder of a teen-aged girl who'd been the Wards' foster daughter in the late nineties, shortly before Grant had tried to burn the house down with Christian inside and ended up in Juvie over it.

I wouldn't know how crashing a party in the Ward mansion figured into their plan. But that was pretty much when things began going wrong. And how Darcy, Phil, Melinda, Mike and I ended finding them in a hell of a stand-off by the service garage. Skye (who'd recently cut her hair to her shoulders, when she claimed it kept getting in the way during her training, and was letting the original darker shade of it be more noticeable) was wearing a long-sleeved, floor-length black gown with a deep-v neckline, the upper half looked completely like semi-translucent black lace (though nothing was actually seen through it), while the lower was solid black with a slit on the left side that went several inches above the knee; she was missing her shoes, and I knew she must have taken them off to try and flee, but it'd been too late already. She was being held in place by a hitman with a gun to the side of her neck. Grant, in a fully black suit (shirt, slacks, tie and jacket) was standing a few feet away from her, looking straight at her; two other men holding guns in his direction, they weren't going to give him the time to reach for his own gun.

It took me a little longer, but eventually I noticed the leader of the three men. The man was tall, black, with almost no hair and in what looked like a bespoke suit. I had no idea who the man was, exactly, but I could sense he was dangerous, more than any of the three thugs.

I was considering our possibilities (the chances of getting out of the mess without openly using my powers... we were too close to the house, and if we were seen Senator Ward would quite likely use my display against us all). I could have never expected it when Darcy of all people stepped forward and straight out of the shadows keeping us all concealed. I expected even less the words that came out of her mouth:

"Hello, uncle, long time no see..."

xXx Darcy's POV xXx

When I saw the man holding a gun against Skye's neck I knew things were bad, when I saw the one leading him and the other two goons... that was when I knew things had gone to hell in a hand-basket. I also knew there was only one way that stand-off wouldn't end off with bullets flying everywhere (and quite probably with one, possibly four men being burned to a crisp), so I took a deep breath, briefly signed at my husband to trust me, and then stepped out of the shadows concealing our presence:

"Hello, uncle, long time no see..."

As expected, all eyes went to me instantly; also as expected, they were all so shocked by the words that had just come out of my mouth that none of the men bothered making sure I was the only one crashing onto their little 'party'. I could have snorted, and they called themselves agents? They were supposed to be some of the best, black-ops operatives... and yet they allowed a few words from a complete unknown to distract them like that?!

"Darcy..." He looked shocked, honestly shocked, for the first time since I knew him. "What are you doing here?"

"You're making a mistake here, uncle." I told him, ignoring his question completely. "Now, I suggest you let my two operatives go, before things get ugly."

"Your operatives?" His eyes narrowed at that. "I thought you'd gone into politics."

"I did." I shrugged. "That's irrelevant right now. I know the three minions are yours. And I need you to understand that either you tell them to stand down and let my people go, or blood will run; and I can promise you this, it will not be ours."

"You manage to sound so sure... yet you're nothing but a child." He said in a despondent tone. "You know nothing of life."

"Really?" I challenged him, taking a stance. "Like I know nothing of George and Maya Lewis? Or how about Marie Wallace?" I could see my knowledge stunned him. "You're the one who knows nothing, Command." I emphasized the last word, giving him something more to chew on. "The last time you saw me I was but a teenager... But it's been twelve years since then, you have no idea what my life is about now."

"You have information you shouldn't." He admitted. "Doesn't mean you will, or even can do anything about it."

"Oh, those things?" I faked a chuckle. "That's nothing. I'll let you in on a little secret. I am the TaserQueen, I am the one people in certain circles have taken to calling the Queen of Hackers. I know a great many things, and am not afraid of using that information as necessary. I have no idea what might have possessed you into taking Christian Ward's side, and I don't care. You either let my people go, or we will see who can be more ruthless."

"The only people with the resources to do this kind of thing are SHIELD." Uncle began, probably trying to make some kind of plan.

"Don't you know?" I interrupted him. "SHIELD is gone."

He gave me a look, like I was missing something obvious... I didn't like it. Still, that wasn't my focus; Skye and Grant were. I knew Uncle would never concede; he was that kind of man; I'd known it even before finding about B613 and 'Command'... and what an interesting (in a twisted, sickening sort of way) read that had been! So I took a deep breath and threw myself into action.

Before anyone could say a word I'd pulled my secondary gun from its holster (it was an ICER), I shot one of the goons, Grant, following my initiative, pulled his own gun to shoot the second; and when the third moved to shoot Skye she raised her own hand and suddenly his gun was falling into pieces; then it was simply a matter of her driving her right heel into one of his feet, twisting out of his hold, and then delivering a kick with her left leg to his torso. Another shot from Grant and the man was out-cold.

I saw Uncle pulling his own gun out a fraction of a second before he could raise it, and then I was moving. He didn't see me coming, didn't see anything until an involuntary curse left his lips. I'd noticed that he carried a metal gun, then it was just a matter of pulling out my electric-gun and fire straight at his; he was forced to drop it as the electricity hit it, and him.

By the time he gathered his wits again I'd kicked the gun far from him, and was standing right in front of him. I knew I'd taken him by surprise, it wouldn't happen again; and unless I solved the matter already, we'd be going into war against yet another secret government organization, and we did not have the time for it! We were almost finished with Hydra, for good! We were only missing one Head, hadn't been able to find him no matter how hard we looked, but I knew it was only a matter of time. The last thing we needed was another enemy, especially one with the kind of power I knew Eli Pope could call on...

"We're Sentinels." I announced in a strong, even voice. "We exist to protect this world, just like many other groups. I know some don't like us, others might even hate us. I don't care, this is who we are, what we do, and we're not changing. Now, Christian Ward is going down, because he's a dirty, abusive, corrupted bastard who doesn't deserve the power he has, and who needs to be taken down before more people end up hurt because of him. Like I said before, I don't know what made you get involved tonight, I don't care. We have no interest in you and your toy soldiers; simply put, you're not our problem. Stay out of our way, and we'll all go on with our lives. Try to go against me, against us, and you'll get to see how much twelve years have changed me."

For the longest time not a word was said, then he simply turned around and walked away, not a word said, never looking back.

Phil waited until he had disappeared before joining us, same as the others.

"Do you really think he'll leave us alone?" He asked me quietly.

"Honestly? I don't know." I admitted. "I suppose it depends on whether he things the risk's worth it. But if he tries... I have a lot on him, and his little organization. I haven't used it because it served no purpose. But if he tries to hurt us..."

I didn't finish the sentence, there was no need.

"You have something on B613?!" Grant exclaimed, honestly surprised.

"I have, more than you might imagine." I nodded. "It actually wasn't intentional. At first I was only keeping it in case we came across one of his minions, and now..."

"How are you even related to that guy?" Skye asked, curious.

"Remember how I once told you you cannot judge people by who trained them, or who their parents are?" I asked. "I also told you my father was on the FBI's Most Wanted list... well, my father had a sister," I signaled to where Eli had gone. "His wife. They were both on that list."

That was enough. No one asked anymore. I let out a sigh, hoping almost against hope that Uncle Eli would really leave us alone. One thing I kept in mind though, the look he'd thrown my way when I mentioned SHIELD being gone...

xXx Rose's POV xXx

We were in the middle of the frigging Atlantic when it all went to hell. I suppose that, strictly speaking, things had been going to hell for the last week. Starting with the battle in Sokovia... though, on the positive side, the last head of Hydra Wolfgang Von Strucker had been found and imprisoned, finally. But no, the real problem were the battles that followed: in Avengers Tower, a Salvage Yard in South Africa, the streets of Johannesburg, and then Seoul... It was all a mess of epic proportions. I'd called on all the allies I could think of, to get them to send aid to those in need; yet we couldn't really erase the loses, it was awful. The worst part, I hadn't the slightest idea of why I hadn't seen any of it coming!

As to why exactly we were in the middle of the Atlantic... After the 'little situation' with Eli Pope, we'd gone ahead and helped Skye and Grant finish their mission. A lot of information had been released online, and by the end of it Christian Ward was left with no supporters, no Senatorial position, no money, no wife... no one wanted to be in any way connected to him. It was unlikely he'd actually go to prison; but in a way that as even worse, he'd nothing left in the world (I got a feeling he wouldn't live long, the man wasn't used to working honestly for his things, he'd be biting a bullet before the end of the year... it wasn't a vision, just a guess, but I had a feeling I was right. I still said nothing).

There had been a very special day, when Thomas Ward had paid us a visit. The man had been living under an assumed name for more than a decade, the only way he'd known to be able to get away from his family. He'd also been under the impression that Grant was dead, had hung himself in prison (like a coward, was what Christian had told him). It was a special day, when the brothers met again and got the chance to make their peace with each other; they would never be truly close, too many years had passed and too many things had happened, but that was alright. Skye also took great pleasure in getting every single embarrassing story Thomas could remember, about his and Grant's childhood. By the end of the day the two men had gotten official new identities: they were Grant and Thomas Wilson (their grandmother's surname).

Then, something no one could have expected. Completely by accident we'd come across Skye's old boss: Emma, while in New York. She was there with her spouse and their son (her son by birth, Skye had told me the story one day). We discovered that day that Emma Swann had once been Emma Woods, foster-daughter of the Wards... she was the little sister who'd tried to protect Thomas, whom Grant hadn't been able to save, and in whose name he'd set fire to that house... So that was one more piece of the past they could all make peace with.

So Christian Ward was finished, Grant had settled his affairs and gotten a new name. There were a few more missions; mostly making sure some of the heads of Hydra were really gone, and do some clean-up duty when necessary. At some point Mike, Skye and Grant began noticing some people that didn't fit, who were on a few too many of the scenes... either we were being followed, or someone else was trying to do the same job we were.

A trap was laid: Skye played the part of the young, inexperienced agent, pretended to accidentally leave behind a USB-stick. We knew that if we were being followed, it'd be too much temptation, and we were right. The stick contained several old Hydra files (nothing that would be truly useful to anyone) and some faked profiles. The important part, though, was that it also contained a piece of malware especially created by Darcy and Skye that would silently infiltrate whatever computer it was connected to, and from there every single computer in the same net; it'd allow us to track whoever was after us.

Things turned out not to be quite what we were expecting. Apparently Pope had been right to give us (mainly Darcy) that particular look, SHIELD wasn't as gone as we believed it to be (as it was supposed to be). A group of high-ranking Agents who'd managed to survive the mess with Hydra, and hadn't moved into another agency, were trying to rebuild the organization, and they were doing it from the mobile headquarters (and aircraft carrier): Iliad.

After talking it over for a while, eventually we'd all decided that a direct approach was best. And so we'd all boarded the quinjet and flown straight to the Iliad. We weren't being stupid, though, people knew we were there (and Erik had been quite explicit what he'd do if we weren't back safe and sound); also, it's not like we were defenseless. While the world had mostly gotten to know the Sentinels in the almost-year since we'd taken that name, they still didn't know what we were all capable of, especially not Skye and I (or that the Rose of Chaos was technically part of the team at all).

Robert Gonzales and his people did not like it when we stepped off our quinjet.

"What are you doing here?" Gonzales demanded.

"How did you even find this place?" Another man, Oliver, hissed.

"Your virtual security leaves much to be desired." Skye offered with a small smile.

The problem? The moment the eyes turned to Skye, they also focused on Ward.

"Traitor!" Victoria Hand (whose presence we'd somehow managed to miss until then). "You dare bring a traitor here!"

Things escalated very fast, though I didn't worry about the team, I knew perfectly well what they were capable of. Hand didn't wait for orders, or questions, or anything at all, she'd pulled her gun out in a second, and then Darcy was before her, having used the shadows to reach her faster, and was disarming her with a well-placed kick. It all happened so suddenly no one actually appeared to have noticed Darcy using any special powers.

Several more people drew their weapons, and it looked like things might go south really quickly...

"Stop it!" Phil ordered loudly.

"Stand Down!" Robert Gonzales ordered at the same time.

On our side the order was followed instantly, the respect for Coulson so high no one hesitated for even a second. On the other side the effect wasn't quite so instantaneous.

"What are you doing here, Agent Coulson?" Gonzales asked seriously.

"We noticed you've been following us for a while now, thought it might be polite to drop by for a chat." Coulson answered blandly.

Gonzales actually did a double-take at that.

"What?" Darcy snarked. "Did you think we hadn't seen your people following us around for months? They couldn't be more obvious if they tried."

She was probably exaggerating, but no one called her on it.

"Perhaps this is a conversation we should be having inside." Anne Weaver offered at one point.

"Inside?!" Hand almost screeched. "You're going to let a bunch of Hydra traitors inside?!"

"Hydra...?" Skye and May repeated, confused.

"Of course." Hand stated in a superior tone. "It's so obvious. The little black-ops team, and the shadow... you were Hydra all-along, lead by the fake-dead Phil Coulson."

It looked like several people were trying to think of something to say, but before any of them could Skye, Darcy and Phil broke into riotous laughter.

"Oh stars I hadn't heard something so ridiculous in my whole life!" Skye explained. "AC being Hydra! I mean... I..." She couldn't say more, laughing so hard.

"Phu-lease!" Darcy deadpanned. "Phil Coulson being Hydra? That would be like saying Captain-freaking-America is Hydra!"

"It's practically heresy." Skye added wholeheartedly.

"Then how do you explain recruiting known enemies of SHIELD." She was looking straight at Skye as she said that. "Multiple counts of disobeying direct orders, violation of international laws and treaties..."

"If the last one is about Malta, we were on a mission to rescue an asset." May pointed out.

"An asset that was lost in the end." Another agent, Jacobson, pointed out stiffly.

"Yet we recovered an artifact that could have been used against SHIELD otherwise." Phil reminded everyone present. "As for the recruiting, everyone deserves a second chance, and Skye is a valuable member of our team. Regarding the orders..." He shrugged. "I may not have always followed the letter of the law, but I got the missions done, and never actually hurt others unless absolutely necessary."

"Also, why are we even discussing 'enemies of SHIELD'." Darcy put in her two cents. "Didn't you get the memo, SHIELD is gone!"

"SHIELD is right here." Several voices called.

"Ah ah." Darcy shook her head emphatically. "I remember quite clear the orders: Hydra goes, and so does SHIELD."

"And whose orders were those?" Hand challenged. "Coulson's?!"

"Captain Rogers's!" All the Sentinels called in unison.

Silence descended, heavier than anything else. I knew that at least a few people must have known about the order; they obviously hadn't told the others so they wouldn't leave, but to think they weren't being honest with their own people...

"You may say whatever you want about orders, and about Coulson, but what about your boy over there?" Gonzales asked, suddenly very serious.

What we'd been waiting for from the start was finally happening, all eyes were on Grant.

"Grant Wilson is a valuable member of our team..." Phil began.

"His name is Grant Ward and he's Hydra!" Another agent, Calderon, called loudly.

He moved so fast, no one got the chance to draw their guns. And yet Skye was faster, and my girl did not need any weapons. In an instant she'd slipped before Grant, bodily protecting him.

"Skye!" Several voices called, at the same time a shot rang out.

I smiled, knowing my daughter could protect herself just fine. And she did, a move of her hand and the bullet was deviated; then, when the wave of vibrated air hit Calderon he went flying several feet before hitting other agents and falling.

"What the...?" Guns were drawn all over again.

That was when I decided enough was enough. With a snap of my fingers a circle of fire was surrounding us. Causing those on the other side to let out curses and jump back in fright. The fire wouldn't burn them, not unless I decided it was absolutely necessary, but they didn't need to know that. Sometimes a little scare was all that was needed...

"What the hell is going on?!" Several voices demanded at once.

"You brought freaks upon our ship?!" Felix Blake demanded sharply.

He was down in the next second. Causing another round of curses.

"He's just knocked out." Phil informed everyone, ICER in hand. "No one calls any member of my team by any derogatory names, I will not allow it."

"They aren't human." Gonzales pointed out.

"What's the measure of a human, nowadays?" Darcy quipped with a smirk. "I mean, we have mutants, metas, sorcerers, skin-changers, shape-shifters, inhumans, weres, and so many other gifted individuals whose name I either cannot remember right now, don't know, or simply don't have a special name." She cocked her head to a side, considering, then added. "For all we know you could be a carrier for one of their genes, or even a latent one yourself, yet you haven't needed the abilities, and thus haven't manifested. It's becoming more and more common nowadays. Even most humans are likely to have a gifted child, or grandchildren at the very least."

It was the truth. It seemed like Erik's wishes would come true sooner or later; mutants and the like would become the dominant species on the planet, and without need for any war...

"Phil, who exactly have you brought onto my ship?" Gonzales asked, suddenly very tired.

"We are the Sentinels." Phil answered simply, calmly.

Really, if they were as good spies as they claimed, it should have been enough.

In the end we did go inside the Iliad. We found out what had happened exactly after Darcy and Skye had counter-hacked Hand's attempt at getting the Bus to the Hub. Apparenly Garrett had survived her drone attack on him and had made it all the way to the Hub, where he joined all other Hydra and tried to take over the base. Hand had almost died, would have if Antoine Tripplet (Garret's latest subordinate) hadn't saved her life. In the end Garrett had been forced to flee (and we ended finding him in New Mexico). Hand and those of her people who'd survived were forced to leave the Hub, as the military got involved, and were rescued by Gonzales's men, who'd already gone to the Academies and saved those they could. They were all staying on the Iliad.

After Phil knocked Blake cold people were more careful of what they said around us. They kept giving Skye and I looks, and even Mike, when they noticed how bulky one of his arms looked. Some also looked at Grant with distrust, but no one dared say a thing after what Skye had already done in his defense. Eventually it was Hand who spoke up:

"Why do you do it?" She asked Phil.

"Do what exactly?" Phil inquired, sounding honestly confused.

"Trust the f... those not-human so much?" She asked, catching herself before offending.

"The question here is: Why shouldn't I?" Phil asked in return. "Gifted have helped us many times through history; many myths and legends were created based on their exploits. And more recently, it was mutants who saved us from a third world war in the sixties..."

"What are you talking about?" Gonzales interrupted him.

Phil turned to look at Darcy and me, knowing we knew more about the matter than him.

"What most people call the Cuban Missile Crisis." Darcy was the one to speak up. "Everyone on Intelligence knows we actually came quite close to ending up involved in another World War. What not many know is the reason the war never came. It wasn't just a matter of diplomacy, or an accord between governments. A fight was fought, a group of gifted, mutants to be precise, fought in a Cuban beach to stop the war from starting. A group that would eventually come to be known as the X-Men."

"The X-Men were allied with the CIA and SHIELD, until they broke the treaty in the nineties." Hand said in a hissing tone.

"Actually, none of the three involved broke the treaty, not directly at least." Darcy explained. "It was William Stryker's fault. He was responsible for a number of attacks against mutants, things that included kidnapping, murder, experimentation... it resulted in the death of more than a dozen mutants, most of them minors, two of them members of the X-Men who died in the process of rescuing a group of young mutants who had been sold like slaves..."

She broke off abruptly at the sound of a moan, it took me a couple of seconds to realize it had been my own...

"Mom..." Skye called.

"Are you alright, young lady?" Gonzales inquired, sounded honestly worried.

"I'm sorry, bad memories." I explained, forcing the knot down my throat. "I... I was there, when Stryker invaded the Institute, first in the seventies, and again more recently, in 2013 and..." I took a deep breath, forcing myself to say it. "The two X-Men he killed, they were my friends, Peter and Wendy, I saw what happened to them, I was the one who had to pass on their goodbyes to their father: Erik Lehnsherr, my own adopted father."

"You saw...?" Oliver inquired, confused.

"Fire isn't my only gift." I clarified. "I'm also cognitive. I saw what happened to them, as it was happening. Not in time to do anything to help, just to hear their goodbyes..."

No one seemed to know quite what to say to that.

"Yes, I..." Darcy cleared her throat a bit. "He was behind it. And I believe Hydra might have been covering for him. There's no other explanation for why he wasn't imprisoned a long time ago."

"Where is he now?" Hand wanted to know.

"Dead." I answered simply, no one dared question me on that.

They went on talking about other things, though I was paying little attention. I think it might have been something about what they would be doing... no one really wanted to go against Steve Rogers's orders, and if he said SHIELD was gone, then they'd respect it. Though first they'd need to decide what to do with all the people who'd been helping them. A few were interested in either being Sentinels, or creating their own groups. I was sure Phil would guide them well, though it was unlikely more than one or two of them at most would be joining us; perhaps some might form other teams. We'd come to realize it was better that way, separate teams, allied, rather than one huge organization were most people never really knew each other (it was probably what had allowed Hydra to infiltrate so much of SHIELD, and other organizations, so thoroughly).

All of that I heard very vaguely, focused as I was on something else. There was a note in the air, like some kind of whistle... one only I could hear. It was pulling at me so strongly... and then I made up my mind. I stopped fighting it, let go... it was like my very first vision, only magnified several times over, like lightning had just hit me, or I'd dove into a vat of iced-water... I had no idea how to even describe it. All I knew for sure was that a great power was swallowing me whole, and there was something at the very center of it, something calling to me, and in I went...

I was small, a child, sitting at a table, surrounded by family, having a meal... I sensed something was wrong a fraction of a second before the explosion came. Suddenly half the roof was gone, same as the ground beneath my feet, the table, and my parents... Only my sister was left. I took her and pulled her with me. We curled together beneath a bed, and then another boom, another bomb, except that one did not explode, and we were left staring at that shell, with one word written on the side... We spent two days like that, waiting to die, waiting to live, waiting...

A jump, and suddenly I was older, a teenager, my sister was by my side and we stood with many others, protesting, calling for justice, and no one seemed to care. Except one man, he offered us a chance, an opportunity to make things right, to bring justice to our country, to Sokovia. And we went with him, as did others.

Screams, and pain and death, there was so much of it; I thought I'd die, there was no way a human could endure such agony... But no, I couldn't die. My sister was still there, I had to keep her safe, she needed me... and there was someone else, someone was waiting for me, looking for me, she had been doing so for a very long time... she... copper, fire and roses, an off-white dress, red roses on her hair, eyes like a gemstone, a lonely rose in the middle of the desert...

I pulled free from the vision with superhuman effort, and even then a part of my mind was still trapped, in that vision, mixed with a thousand others: speed, blonde, blue, an odd accent and a cocky tone, the sound of gunshots and agony ripping through... I screamed:

"SHTEYN!"

Chapter Text

Desert Rose

No rose is more beautiful, than that which blooms in the harshest conditions...

xXx 3rd Person POV xXx

A soul-tearing cry abandoned the lips of the brown-eyed auburn-haired fire-gifted Sentinel and immediately the room descended into chaos.

"Mom!" Skye cried out, horrified by the pain she could hear in the scream.

"She's having a vision." Darcy said grimly.

"Whatever she's seeing, it cannot be good." Phil added in an even darker tone.

"Think it has something to do with that message you got from Angel a few days ago?" Grant asked his girlfriend quietly.

When around other people they always referred to their gifted friends by their code-names. Angel meant Raina (she'd once told Skye she was an angel, messenger and guardian, meant to serve Skye herself); she'd sent them a message three or so days earlier: Robots flying among the clouds, explosions, a fight, a city falling from the sky... None of them had known what to think, they only knew it wasn't good. Other precogs had gotten in touch to let them know a storm was coming, a fight, Muse (Cassie Blake-Connant) had called it a 'huge event', while Destiny (Irene Xavier-Darkholme) had called it Fate. And then there was Rose, going into a vision with no warning and screaming like her soul was being torn in half...

"What the hell is going on?!" Several of the 'agents' began demanding.

Skye ignored them all, she went to stand by her mom, cradled the older woman's face in her hands and spoke to her:

"Mom..." She whispered tenderly. "Mom I need you to listen to me, please. I know you've seen something awful. But we cannot help unless you let us help. Tell us, what can we do? Where do we need to go?"

Somehow, Skye's voice seemed to manage to penetrate through Rose's dark mood; she blinked, her eyes (still the mix of red-orange-black that showed she was using her powers), managing to fix them on her daughter... there were flames dancing all over her skin, some even moving onto Skye's, but neither of them paid any attention to them, and either ignored or simply didn't hear the comments being made by those around them.

"Sokovia... now... Call help..."

It was all she managed to say, before she lost herself again in whatever it was she was seeing. Still, that was enough.

"You heard her people!" Phil called loudly, mostly to his team.

"Wheels up in five." Melinda announced before turning around and going straight for the quinjet.

"Are you really going to go to another country, into a completely unknown situation, just because she said so?" Hand asked in complete disbelief.

"If you knew us, understood the kind of trust we share you wouldn't ask stupid questions." Darcy said in a scathing tone.

"What guarantee is there that anything at all is going on?" Oliver inquired, still not believing it. "She claims to be psychic, but everyone at SHIELD knows psychics don't exist."

"Really?" Darcy challenged him. "Then tell me, agent, what is Professor X, the Headmaster of the Xavier Institute, one of the leaders of the X-Men and the mutant community as a whole, and acknowledged as the most-powerful telepath in the world, supposed to be?" She waved a hand at the man before he could say a word. "You know what? Don't answer that. There's no point. Something really bad is going on and we need to get to Sokovia."

"Your friend mentioned getting help..." Anne Weaver pointed out.

"Yeah." Darcy nodded, then looked over her shoulder. "Skye, we gotta get to work, we need to call in the Cavalry."

"But May's already with us!" Skye answered cheekily.

Darcy just laughed. She knew the younger hacker had understood the message. The moment they were in the air they'd be getting in touch with as many members of the Alliance as they could, ask them to get to Sokovia asap. If the so-called SHIELD wanted to do anything that was up to them; the Sentinels had already said their piece and whatever else came wasn't their concern. They had other things to focus on... like whatever the Chaos Rose had just seen, something that was so big she was still mostly lost in the vision...

Skye and Grant together guided Rose to a seat, strapped her in, before taking their own places and doing the same. They were up in the air in record time. Then, as soon as they were stable everyone was out of their seat and getting to work. Grant and Mike gathered weapons and other tools that might prove useful. FitzSimmons trying to find out what might be going on in Sokovia exactly; they soon realized nothing was actually going on just yet, though certainly a great deal had been going on the past few days... Darcy and Skye were sending messages out to everyone they could think of.

They were about done with all the preparations (though they still had hours of journey ahead of them) when they heard Rose begin to sing. She still hadn't moved from her seat, and her eyes were fixed on a point, as if seeing something no one else could (and odds was, she probably was). Everyone identified the song almost instantly.

"It's that song again..." Mike muttered.

That song... the one about the battlefield, the one she'd been singing on their way to every fight since the day they'd gone after Skye.

"Is it just me, or does it sound like she's calling to someone?" Skye asked suddenly.

Everyone looked at her, and even without any special empathic or telepathic gifts, she could tell what was on their minds:

"Right, so it's not just me." She nodded.

She was wondering who it might be, and then it came to her, her mother's cry, the word she'd screamed right then... She put it in google translate, but couldn't find it. It detected the language as Albanian, but nothing came of it. She cursed quietly, but just loud enough for Darcy to hear.

"It's not Albanian." The older hacker told her quietly. "It's Yiddish."

"How do you know?" Skye asked her, curious.

"Poppy, that was my grandfather, my mom's dad." Darcy clarified. "He was Jewish. He died when I was still young, but still he tried to still his love for our religion in me. Cannot say I'm completely convinced about everything, but there are some things I do like, about religions in general, and Jewish in particular. I learned the language when I was still young, it was a way of feeling close to him, after he passed away."

"What does steyn mean, then?" Skye wanted to know.

"Shteyn." Darcy corrected my pronunciation first. "It means 'Stone', though I still do not know why she'd scream that, exactly."

Skye couldn't help the feeling like she should know, like there was something she was missing, but she couldn't think of what it might be. To push away that thought, since it was getting her nowhere, she focused on the names still on her list (of people she had to contact), there was only one left: the Inhumans. For a moment she actually considered simply sending a text-message to the phone she'd left with Raina and the other elders, asking them to send help, but then something else occurred to her. She had no idea where the thought even came from, but she decided to do it before she could think better of it. And so she pulled up her contacts list and made the call:

"Hello, I wish to speak to Yat-Sen, please." She announced in her most serious voice.

All eyes were on her instantly, whether that was due to her tone of voice, or the fact that she was calling for the Head Elder, rather than Raina, or even Lincoln (who were the ones she usually talked to) no one actually said; still, everyone knew something was coming:

"A situation is developing in Sokovia." She explained briefly. "We don't yet know how serious it will be. But we need all the help we can get... We need volunteers, and I can make no guarantees. This is a matter of life and death... I am making this request as Daisy Johnson, daughter of Jiaying, Queen of the Inhumans..."

xXx Rose's POV xXx

"Mom, we're in Sokovia." I heard my daughter's voice as if from very far away.

In the back of my head I could hear the tell-tale sound of something breaking the wind (and probably the sound barrier too), gunshots, someone talking very quietly and agony... I extended my hand, trying to grasp something that wasn't there anymore, that had never been there or... or maybe, it was something that wasn't there Yet. Understanding came to me abruptly, yet I had no time anymore; no, if we didn't hurry all my visions and my realizations would be pointless. We had work to do.

I pulled myself back to the present as the team around me finished getting ready.

"So?" I called, standing up. "What are we waiting for?"

I moved fluidly, slipping off the maroon wrap dress I'd been wearing (mostly so Gonzales and his group wouldn't see me as threatening), beneath it I was wearing my tactical clothes, my favorite red-leather boots stayed, and after pulling my hair into a tight bun at the nape of my neck (with two stiletto daggers passing as chopsticks), I was ready for what was coming.

Ours wasn't the only aircraft to land just outside the limits of Sokovia. There were several others and I immediately recognized members of the X-Men, a number of Inhumans, and many others. I recognized at least half a dozen wolves standing among the rocks, near the riverside, lead by a purely white wolf.

"Vivian..." I breathed out.

"She's here?" Skye asked, surprised.

"Yes." I nodded. "And so are the Inhumans. You need to join them, darling, they're waiting for you." I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I know what you did, what you said to convince them to come. Now go, and remember, being an Inhuman, even their Queen, doesn't mean you need to stop being a Sentinel, or my daughter."

"I know mom." She nodded with a smile.

Grant was behind her, a hand on her shoulder. I knew he would go with her, he'd keep her safe.

"Remember to tell them that the wolves are on our side." I said as they were leaving.

Rogue approached me in representation of the X-Men, as the others were already busy, working on evacuation (Destiny had told them what I needed them for). I informed her about the others working with us (especially the wolves), and then she was off to do her part.

Superman, Supergirl, Superboy, Hawkman and Hawkgirl landed a few feet from me right then, with Impulse and Flicker (Alicia's code-name) appearing practically on their heels; they also had Cyan, Doc (Cyrus), Mental (Justin, a telekinetic) and Stargirl with them.

"What's going on here?" Steve Rogers asked, approaching me.

"Oh, hey Cap!" I greeted him. "Guys, this is Captain America, leader of the Avengers. Cap, these are some of the members of the Justice League." I introduced them all quickly.

"Why are you all here?" Peggy, behind Steve, asked, curious.

"Rose called." Cyan answered with a shrug. "When she calls, we answer."

"Just like that?" James was honestly surprised.

"Just like that." All members of the League nodded.

"Like you all know, the priority is evacuation." I informed everyone. "Whatever's coming is big and it's bad." I turned my eyes on Tony. "And you and I will be having a very long talk once this mess is over, understood mister?"

"Oh..." Hawkman called, dramatically. "The little lady is angry!"

Tony didn't say a word out-loud but I caught a discreet nod from him. He knew he'd done wrong, and wanted to correct it. I was more worried about him than truly angry. But we needed to focus on the innocents first.

"Just where did you find all these people?" Peggy asked, seemingly awed as she watched the group break, most of them either flying or teleporting away.

"All around the world." I answered with a smile. "Oh, and you must know. The Inhumans are also here, Skye is leading them."

"Skye, your daughter?" Sif wasn't expecting them.

"She's their new Queen." I answered honestly. "By her birth-mother's heritage."

It was obvious most of them had question, lots of them, they also understood that wasn't the time or

place for such questions to be answered.

"Also." I went on. "The wolves are on our side."

"Wolves...?!" Hawkeye exclaimed, shocked.

"They're a pack of loup-garou." I answered briefly. "Like werewolves but they change at will. They're here to help, their alpha is the white-wolf, her name is Vivian. If you need anything, ask her directly. She can understand you just fine, even if she cannot exactly talk in that form." I made a pause before adding. "The X-Men are also here, and an assortment of other gifted. You can trust them. They're here because I called them..."

"Very well." Steve nodded. "Time is short. Lets get moving people!"

And indeed, we began moving.

About half an hour or so after we began the evacuation, a series of explosions took place, dozens of robots seemed to burst out from beneath the ground, they began attacking the people and, as if that weren't bad enough, suddenly the ground itself was moving; a good chunk of the ground, moving up, beginning to fly... Rather abruptly I remembered the contents of Raina's message: Robots flying among the clouds, explosions, a fight, a city falling from the sky...

I cursed, loudly and colorfully.

"Hey!" Phoenix called, suddenly by my side. "Is everything alright?"

"No." I admitted grimly. "The city is going to fall."

"It is just beginning to rise right now..." Cyclops began, seemingly not getting it.

"Exactly." I nodded. "And then it's going to fall."

"Oh god..." Phoenix was the first to get it. "How bad?"

"Very, very bad." I answered. "We need to get everyone off this thing. And then... and then we need to find the way to destroy it, without having it touch the ground again."

"Oh, is that all?" Cyclops asked sarcastically.

"Just get to work!" I told him, rolling my eyes.

"I'll let the others know." Phoenix announced.

Things weren't quite as bad as they could have been, we had plenty of good people on our side. A number of teleporters, fliers, and the like. Some even went back to their own aircrafts and began using them like life-boats. Getting as many people off the flying Sokovia as they could. It was insane, but everyone was doing their best, they knew time was short, and the focus was on saving as many lives as we possibly could. I wasn't much good in the evacuation department, but I had fire on my side, and I focused it on destroying as many robots as I possibly could.

We were getting people off the flying city, but it just wasn't happening fast enough.

"Did Fury send you?" Steve asked me at one point.

We happened to meet near what must have been the city's main social center or something like it. More than half of the civilians still up there with us were there, so I'd taken to making sure no robots got near it. Most of Vivian's pack was doing the same, as were the majority of those unable to help with the actual evacuation.

"What? No!" I wasn't expecting that. "Not at all. We were dealing with a little something in the Atlantic when I had a freaking vision. We got here as fast as we could, called everyone we could on the way too."

"You do realize that there's a big chance most of us won't be getting off this city, right?" He asked me, darkly. "That all the friends you called here won't make it out?"

"We warned them of the chances." I admitted grimly. "Still, don't be so glum Cap. This isn't over, it won't be until we're dead; and I don't know you, but I've no plans of dying any time soon!"

"Good to hear that..." A voice called.

And then we got to learn where Fury and Sphinx (Great-aunt Kathryn) had gone after dropping by Clint's sister-in-law's place to kick all the Avenger's asses back into gear. They were there, on a highly-advanced jet, and it wasn't the only one. All were black, and they bore the same symbol...

"Wakanda..." I breathed out in realization, the let out an involuntary chuckle. "I suppose it pays being friends with the King..."

"What...?" Steve didn't seem to be following.

"Aunt Kathryn knows the King of Wakanda." I explained briefly. "Those are his planes. We need to get the rest of the civilians on them. Then we can think of some way to make sure this city does not crash-land and destroy the rest of the planet."

"About that..." I could hear Tony's voice on the comm (Peggy had given me one). "I may have a plan. If you can get the civilians out, it just might work."

"Then lets get moving people!" I called loudly.

"Is it always like that with her?" I vaguely heard Steve say (mostly through the comms).

"The optimism?" Tony asked, I could hear the smile on his voice. "Yeah. Aunt Ari and Lokes call her the Goddess of Faith for a reason, you know? I've known her for decades, and she's never lost that, not once... it's part of what makes her special."

Tony's words made me smile, though I knew he was wrong, if only a little. I had lost my faith once, in 1992... but I'd gotten it back, I'd moved on. The experience hadn't destroyed me, and while I wouldn't exactly claim it'd made me stronger... it changed me in some ways, in ways I liked to believe were good.

In any case, the middle of a battle for the survival of mankind (dramatic as it might sound) wasn't exactly the moment to be getting all philosophical, so I pushed that thought aside and forced myself to focus on the duty at hand: getting the civilians off the flying city.

We had a plan relatively quickly. It wasn't what I'd usually call a good plan; in fact I'd downright call it insane... but it wasn't like I hadn't had my fair share of insane plans, and they'd worked quite well in the end, so I didn't stop them. Basically the idea was that Iron Man would send a beam at the core making the city fly, from below, overheating it as well as blocking the surge of power Thor would then send from above, causing it to explode, and the flying city with it. If things went as planned, nothing would be left... which meant we all needed to get off the city before that happened. I passed on the message.

Actually the part I liked the least was Tony risking himself so much... I knew that his life was no longer dependent on the arc-reactor, which was good; but the suit did depend on it, and if he ran out of power, he'd fall. The problem: those of us who had the power to overheat the core like it needed to be, couldn't fly, and vice-versa. And even I wasn't capable of creating fire hot enough to heat-up vibranium and at the same time keep it from turning whoever flew me down there to a crisp (I'd great control, but that just wasn't possible!).

"Tony," I called just before he'd to focus on his part of the plan. "Listen to me very carefully. You better not die, you hear me? Because if you do I'll go straight to Helheim, talk to Helena and then scream your ear off for doing something so stupid!"

"Got it cous!" He called cheekily. "No dying for me!" He made a pause before adding. "Besides, you'd scream at me, but Pep would kill me all over again!"

I had to chuckle at that, he was right of course.

Things went quite fast after that. I vaguely heard some arguing when the time came for Vivian and her pack to board one of the jets. At least until she took human form again to demonstrate that her pack weren't wild animals (the fact that the last few wolves arrived carrying little kids on their backs might have helped too).

Soon enough I was standing near the edge of the flying city, watching the different groups board their respective aircrafts, ready to leave. There were a few injured, like Cyclops, Shadowcat, Mental, Stargirl; a few looked like they were about to fall asleep on their feet. But we'd managed it, somehow. We'd managed to evacuate the whole city, just in time.

"Watch out!" I heard Skye call over the comms abruptly. "One of those robots is on a quinjet and he's shooting everywhere!"

"Everyone take cover!" Several of us yelled in unison.

From the corner of my eye I saw Skye rushing to the jet the Inhumans had arrived in, using her powers to deflect bullets and debris, covering her people; Grant was right by her side, gun in hand, ready to cover her if necessary.

Behind me the rest of the Sentinels had already boarded our quinjet, I was the only one missing, and even I wasn't sure why, it was like I was waiting for something, like a part of me knew something was still coming... and then I heard it:

"Costel!" A female voice called, from a nearby chopper.

I heard the call as if from a great distance, at the same time my mind called up the sounds of the wind-breaking, gunshots, a bullet finding its mark...

I was moving before I consciously knew what I was doing. More than moving I was running, feet barely touching the ground, leaping over broken streets and the ruins of buildings like they were nothing (my elven agility coming to fore), I had no idea where I was going, not consciously, I just knew I needed to be somewhere, and I needed to do it soon.

I don't know if I was really that blind, or just in that much denial. To think that even after the hell of a vision that had gotten us all to Sokovia in the first place, even after the feelings I'd been getting all along, the sense of deja-vu, and the way my very soul kept screaming at me to run; even then I hadn't know what I'd find when I finally got to where I needed to be (really, blindness or denial? Not sure which one would be worse). And then I saw him.

He looked nothing like the man in my memories, the man I'd loved and lost, the one who'd only said he loved me when he was a second away from dying... he looked nothing like him, and yet I could almost see his soul, I saw through his bleached hair and his steel-blue eyes, the form-fitting blue clothes and white-sneakers, I saw him...

And then I saw the stolen quinjet, and the bullets heading his way. He was in the process of pushing Hawkeye out of the way (Hawkeye who had a kid in his arms, and was bracing himself, trying to shield the boy with his own body). Even a speedster like him (or like the him I'd known) wouldn't be fast enough to get out of the way in time. I realized in a heartbeat that I was about to lose him, like I'd lost Peter all those years before. My soulmate was finally back, I hadn't even met him yet and I was about to lose him, again... I couldn't allow it. There was no way I'd ever reach him in time, I wasn't that fast... but I knew I didn't need to be. I screamed and fire shot out of my body in a barely controlled rush. I didn't even move my hands to guide it, there was no need, my soul knew what was necessary and that was enough. The fire left me and moved, consuming the bullets in its wake, before hitting the quinjet straight on, consuming the plane and its occupant instantly, nothing was left.

I was still standing in the very same spot, looking at the shocked speedster, like I never wanted to look away again. He stood in place, shocked for several seconds, before his eyes turned in my direction, and then he was looking straight at me. I waited for a beat, holding my breath and...

"Who are you?"

I could almost feel my heart crack inside my chest. He had no idea who I was... of course he had no idea who I was! We'd never met!

We'd never met and already a part of me was trying to place him in the very spot Peter, my Peter (no, not my Peter, he'd never been mine, he'd never allowed it) had once had. What was I even thinking?! Hadn't I learned from the past? It was insane, loving someone I didn't really know, and who didn't know me. And he was so young... I could see it in his eyes, beyond the marks of premature aging that whatever life he'd lead until then had left (I had some idea of that life, I'd seen it just hours earlier, after all).

Just like that, I suddenly couldn't handle it anymore. I let out the breath I had been holding, then spun around and ran. I ran as fast as I could, didn't even stop as I reached the edge of the flying city. I barely remembered that there was water at the bottom, a part of me didn't even care about that, just about leaving, and fast... I jumped.

xXx 3 rd Person POV xXx

"Mom!" Several people heard Skye/Daisy yelling over the comms. "What the hell happened?!"

Pietro Maximoff appeared on the edge of the flying city right then, looking down in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"She's alright, ChaosRose just needs to be alone for a little while." Destiny, who wasn't actually present in Sokovia but was still linked through the comms, spoke. "You'll find her once you go home, young one."

"Guys, you all need to get off this rock, now!" Darcy ordered right then.

"We're out of time!" Tony yelled suddenly. "Get off now! Thor! On my mark!"

In seconds everyone had rushed to the last remaining aircrafts. At some point someone said it might be safer to go higher, rather than lower, and they did. They all had perfect view to watch as the flying city blew into pieces.

Nightcrawler retrieved the falling Iron Man with minimal issues and minutes later they were all landing by the edge of the huge hole that had once been Novi Grad, Sokovia. It was a sobering sight, seeing all that had been lost; and yet just turning around, seeing all the people standing there, they could also see all that had been saved...

Before the end of the day a fund was created and many people were pitching in to help give the Sokovians a chance at a new life. All in all the known deaths amounted less than a dozen, and while they expected the numbers to rise somewhat, even the missing didn't come anywhere close to a hundred. It was a miracle considering that the battle had completely obliterated the capitol of Sokovia, and there were over 400 billion dollars in property damage. Most of the dead in fact, were members of the police or the army who refused to leave right away and instead had been helping the Avengers, League and other various groups, and a few incredibly stubborn people who had refused to evacuate in time. It didn't make things better, not really, but at least they all knew they'd done their best.

The whole world seemed to be working together, helping as needed so the survivors of the battle would get a chance to move on.

Someone at some point had tried to start a movement to declare the Avengers and other 'heroes' responsible of what had happened in Sokovia; but it didn't take. Not when so many people were infinitely thankful at them all for their help. Even without being present, the Rose of Chaos kept being a symbol, acknowledged as the one responsible for bringing about the Alliance; the same that had already stopped Hydra in its tracks the year before, and they'd just managed to save the majority of the inhabitants of Novi Grad...

A week after the events in Sokovia things were finally mostly in order there. Most of the people had temporal housing and were in the process of acquiring permanent homes, new jobs and all else that might be needed (courtesy of a special fund created and coordinated in conjunction by Stark, Queen, Wayne, Osborn, Prince, Holmes, T'Chaka, and a few others that were counted among the richest and most powerful individuals around the world). It was amazing for some to watch, the way the world could unite, when it was really necessary...

xXx

Darcy strode into the common level of Avengers Tower like she owned the place (and legally she did own a percentage of it, at Tony's insistence. She didn't allow him to adopt her, as she did not want there to be trouble with Aylen's inheritance in the future, but she was still very much a part of the family).

"Hello everyone." She called with a bright smile, before raising her head to the ceiling. "Hey J!"

There was no answer.

"Darcy..." Pepper began, very quietly. "JARVIS is gone..."

Everyone could see Tony behind her, having just flinched at the reminder of what he'd lost.

The Queen of Hackers just smiled widely as she typed something on her tablet, before turning her face up again:

"Wand to do this part yourself, or should I?" She asked, seemingly to no one.

All the lights on the floor (and the rest of the tower in fact) seemed to blink for a second or two and then, to everyone's great shock, an answer came:

"I suppose I should say, 'rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated'." The AI with an English accent quipped.

For several seconds not a word was said. Some took a moment to wonder at the fact that while JARVIS and Vision's voices were similar to a point, they weren't the same, at all. It might be the fact that the android managed to sound much, much younger.

"J?!" Tony cried out.

"Hello sir." The AI greeted his creator. "It would seem you have had quite an eventful few days... Same as the rest of the team."

"Oh J..." Tony seemed to be honestly speechless, as well as absolutely delighted, as he turned to his eldest daughter "Darcy?! How...?"

"I seem to keep repeating this to people lately but, I am the Queen of Hackers." She pointed out with a mischievous smile.

"How did you do it?" Pepper wanted to know.

"It's a security protocol I installed a year ago." The hacker explained calmly. "After Hydra first revealed itself... I read through all their files, what they'd done with Zola, and the algorithm... Also, all the hackers out there nowadays... I know many have tried to hack JARVIS, and none bar BlueCloud have ever gotten anywhere close... but the fact that we're the best now doesn't mean others won't come around one day and be better. I realized that if someone ever realized that the best way to get inside the tower was to disable JARVIS... that was a risk to him. As unlikely as it was for such a thing to ever happen, it wasn't impossible. So I created a protocol that would allow him to survive almost anything. It was... I guess you could call it a mix between a hideaway, a stasis pod, and a virtual version of the sarcophagus in Stargate."

It took almost a minute for those present, even the programming geniuses like Tony Stark and Skye Nova to understand what Darcy was saying exactly. The fact that she'd created something that allowed JARVIS to hide from Ultron (even when he was all over the internet), recover and eventually 'heal' himself!

"You're amazing!" Tony exclaimed, rushing to embrace her tightly, before turning his head to the ceiling. "Welcome back J!"

The celebration truly began in earnest then. How could it not, when one they'd thought lost was back among them? The only one not present in the party was Rose, no one had seen her since the battle of Sokovia, but that was alright, at least a few people knew where she was, and that she was safe, she just needed some time for herself.

Skye was outside, standing near the edge of the viewing deck, listening to a melody only she could pick up on. The melody of the city around and bellow her was interrupted unexpectedly by the approach of two people... she knew by their vibrations that they'd been in Sokovia, and yet they weren't part of the Alliance. The Inhuman's suspicions were proven right when she turned around to find the Maximoff twins standing right then. She had her mahogany hair loose down her back and was wearing a red dress, black leather jacket and ankle-boots; her twin with his blonde tousled hair was wearing a black muscle-shirt, dark-jeans, a loose dark-blue jacket with white stripes on the side and white sneakers; both had the same gray-blue eyes, like steel.

"Hello..." The boy called quietly, he sounded almost shy.

Skye couldn't help but arch a brow; from what she'd been able to see in the last week the young man wasn't at all shy, he was also a fast talker, and bold... she was seeing none of that in that moment; and what was more, she could sense the tension inside him, he seemed to be almost vibrating in place with nervousness.

"I am Wanda Maximoff, this is my brother Pietro." The girl said.

"Skye Nova." The brown-eyed brunette introduced herself in turn.

"We're here to ask you about the girl with the power over fire and chaos." Wanda told me. "It seems you're the one who might be able to tell us where we can find her."

"How do you know that?" The answer came to the hacker even before the question had fully left her lips. "Have you been reading people's minds? That can be considered rude, you know?"

"I'm sorry." I could sense sincerity from her. "I don't always mean to. I haven't altered anyone's thoughts I promise. I did go a bit deeper than surface thoughts, but it was only this time. I promise not to do it again without cause. We really need to find her."

"Why?" Skye asked, she could see the urgency in her, the tension in him. "Why so urgent?"

Wanda did not answer, instead she turned to look at her brother, it gave the impression like she was wordlessly asking him something, and perhaps she was.

"I need to find her." Pietro finally spoke. "I... I think I know her."

"Well, from what I've been told, she saved your life in Sokovia, after you saved Clint's and that boy's." Skye commented offhandedly.

"No." Pietro shook his head, then revised. "I mean yes, I did that. But I'm not talking about that. I mean before, I think I've known her from before."

"Before?" Skye was honestly puzzled by that.

"Yes... argg!" He sounded definitely stressed out by that point. "I don't know how to explain it! I just know I need to find her I... I need to see her again." He began muttering under his breath. "The girl on fire, surrounded by roses... The sword, the shield, the camouflage..."

"Excuse me, what?!" The inhuman Queen was so shocked she couldn't quite contain the burst of power that escaped her right then.

She knew those words, they were part of the song her mom had been singing consistently for months, when she had been calling for someone... Her eyes snapped open abruptly (and she had no idea when she'd closed them).

"You said your name was Pietro?" She asked suddenly, apropos of nothing.

"Yes..." He nodded, seemingly not understanding what that had to do with anything.

Skye's mind was running a mile a minute. She remembered Sister Esther, from St. Agnes, she'd been a bit obsessed with names and their meanings. She knew that the name the nuns had given her had lots of meanings, from 'sea of bitterness' to 'rebelliousness', 'wished for child' and even 'beloved'; She'd never liked the first, totally agreed with the second, and for the longest time she couldn't bring herself to believe the latter two. It was probably one of the reasons why she had wanted so much to change her name. In any case, if she remembered correctly (and she was quite sure she did) Pietro was a variant of Peter, a name that meant 'Stone'... suddenly a lot of things began falling into place... Places that she had trouble believing, and if her suspicions were right (and she really hoped they were) then the universe was even more insane than she ever imagined it could be. Still, if it meant her mom had a chance at being happy, then she would do it.

"Come with me." She said simply.

The twins followed her, not quite knowing where she was going. They didn't stop as she came close to a few others, though only one of them joined her. They only vaguely heard her giving some reassurances that she'd be back before they were on the elevator, only instead of going down they were going up.

"Where are we going?" Wanda asked eventually.

"The quinjets." Skye informed her. "We're borrowing one. It'll be faster that way."

"Are you sure about this Skye?" Grant asked his girlfriend quietly, eyeing the twins.

He knew they'd been with Hydra, and the on Ultron's side, before officially switching sides and becoming Avengers, and while he knew it made him completely hypocritical, he couldn't help but distrust them on principle.

"The only thing I'm sure right now is that mom has locked herself away from the world for a week now, and we cannot allow it to continue." The brunette said, trying to sound strong, though inside she felt pained for whatever was making her mom stay away. "Gramps says the last time she did it for five years! Not again."

If there was one thing Skye absolutely loved about having Rose Alfdis as her mom (aside from that fact in and of itself) was the huge surrogate family she got along with her. A bunch of cousins, aunts, uncles, and even grandparents! A god and a goddess (who were also a prince and a princess), and the two leaders of the mutant community were her surrogate grandparents, and they all wanted her to consider them as such! It was so awesome!

xXx Skye's POV xXx

The flight lasted almost three hours, and I needed to meditate half of that time in order to stay calm enough not to put us all at risk; even then Grant had held my hands in his on and off, it helped a lot. What didn't help was sensing the tension in the twins' vibrations, especially Pietro's. I also thought I sensed something else, I couldn't quite explain it, but it reminded me somewhat of an elastic band about to snap...

Grant landed the quinjet in the same spot we'd once landed the Bus.

"Wow..." Pietro murmured in awe as we stepped down.

"What?" I asked him cheekily. "Never seen a place like this?"

"Yes..." His answer surprised me, even more so when he added: "In my dreams."

I didn't get the chance to ask him what that was supposed to mean exactly, as he was already walking away, leaving Wanda, Grant and I able to do nothing but follow him. We soon passed the enduring garden, and then several yards of desert. I actually sensed Mom before I saw her, she was standing beneath a huge tree, in the middle of a wide empty space of desert. I was a bit surprised at her attire, as I'd never seen her wearing something like it: a long-sleeved ivory-white floor-length lace dress that hugged her every curve while still looking demure and very elegant (like a princess, or a goddess), her small feet were bare, and her hair fell around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back in wind-swept dark-auburn waves. She was also singing...

"How can I say this without breaking
How can I say this without taking over
How can I put it down into words
When it's almost too much for my soul alone"

I ached, hearing her. There was so much pain in her voice... I knew mom hurt sometimes. She'd lived such a long, eventful life, of course there were things in her past that weren't pretty, I even knew about Peter, Quicksilver, the youngest child (only son) of Erik Lehnsherr. Not much, just enough to know it had scarred her, deeply, a wound in her heart and soul that still hurt sometimes... yet I never imagined to hear her feelings put into words like that. Made me wish I could do something, anything, to help her. But I couldn't, I could only hope that what I'd done (bringing Pietro to the ranch) would help rather than make it worse... and so I held onto Grant tightly, and listened to the song, all the while praying to whatever higher power there might be that things would go well...

"I loved and I loved and I lost you
I loved and I loved and I lost you
I loved and I loved and I lost you
And it hurts like hell
Yeah it hurts like hell"

xXx Rose's POV xXx

"I don't want them to know the secrets
I don't want them to know the way I loved you
I don't think they'd understand it, no
I don't think they would accept me, no"

When I woke up I felt... almost itchy, in a way I couldn't quite explain. Then again, I had been feeling so many things I couldn't explain (or refused to look into close enough to be able to) ever since that day, since the battle in Sokovia, since laying eyes on him, since the rush of feelings was so great I chose to jump off a freaking flying rock instead of facing them! I always knew I was crazy, but that was a bit much, even for me (Charles said I was just being over-dramatic, that I got it from Tate, or maybe from Papa, either was equally possible). In any case, I'd left then, a week had passed and I still couldn't even think about going back, wasn't sure when/if I'd ever be ready.

"I loved and I loved and I lost you
I loved and I loved and I lost you
I loved and I loved and I lost you
And it hurts like hell
Yeah it hurts like hell"

That morning I'd felt the imperious need to wear something different than my usual. So I'd gone deep into my wardrobe, until I found a dress. I couldn't remember when I'd bought it, or even why, was almost sure I'd never actually worn it (though, later on I'd realized it was almost identical to what I'd been wearing in the dream/vision where my sister and I met for the first time). Still, it was different enough to suit my wishes. So I put it on. I let my hair down (I actually preferred it that way most of the time) and then chose a pair of flats... which I eventually ended kicking off when I found myself wandering through the desert in my property, past my little garden, much as I'd been doing ever since finding my way back to the ranch (which hadn't been exactly easy, even with gifted help). For some reason I couldn't quite comprehend I liked the feeling of the desert beneath my bare feet, always had.

"Dreams fight with machines
Inside my head like adversaries
Come wrestle me free
Clean from the war"

What did change from the routine of the previous week was when I unexpectedly found myself singing. I hadn't done it before, wasn't sure why it felt so right to do it then, it just did, and I went with it (I'd always been one to follow my instincts). I sang, the words coming to my lips without me having to really think about them much, and as I did I began feeling how, ever so slowly, the tension in my body eased, the pain in my heart lessened, I could almost believe I was breathing easier, my soul beginning to unfurl... Mama was right, singing really could be quite cathartic.

"Your heart fits like a key
Into the lock on the wall
I turn it over, I turn it over
But I can't escape
I turn it over, I turn it over"

A part of me couldn't help but wonder what those that knew me would think if they were to hear me in that moment, hear my song. Everyone was so convinced that I was over Peter, that I had moved on... Stars! Even I had been convinced about that! Until Sokovia, until the blonde boy in the blue attire had almost died before my eyes, and then it all came back. I had no idea if he was even Peter's reincarnation (I did know, but my denial was still strong). I knew that he was behind all the dreams I couldn't quite remember, and the vision that made me lose it while on the Iliad. And I'd run away from him! Simply put, I'd no idea what to do! Papa and Mama had had it so easy, neither of them remembering, both of them able to fall in love with each other, like it was the first time. Yet I knew... I knew and he didn't; and we'd already failed at the whole thing once, what guarantee was there that we wouldn't all over again? I didn't know what to think anymore!

"I loved and I loved and I lost you
I loved and I loved and I lost you
I loved and I loved and I lost you
And it hurts like hell"

The song had just finished and I was enjoying the release it brought me when my senses suddenly screamed that I wasn't alone anymore... and just as abruptly I had another reason for the change in my own feelings.

Even before turning around, I knew exactly who was behind me. His was really the kind of presence I was sure I'd know even without any special senses. He called to something in me that went beyond the fire and the chaos... beyond even my Sight... and he didn't know, or he didn't remember (had Peter ever known?), I wasn't sure I could look into his eyes (they were the same eyes, by the stars!) and see his ignorance (of me, of everything) again.

"Who are you?"

He asked the same question again, just like he had back in Sokovia, and again I felt a pang at those words, at his honest lack of knowledge, of recognition. And then... then came the words that changed everything...

"Why do you seem so familiar?" He inquired, and there was a hint of steel behind his quiet, almost shy words. "I've seen you in my dreams, time and again, my whole life. Almost always in black-bodysuits, though sometimes in off-white dresses, and the fire... like living flames dancing all around you, dancing with you, yet never hurting you... I remember your eyes, warm and dark like melted chocolate and yet, at times bright and wild, shifting between red, orange, and black, like wildfire. I... I think I remember the way your voice in my ear sounds, the softness of your skin, what you smell like: roses, vanilla and candle-wax... Why? Why do I remember all that? Why when before last week I'd never laid eyes on you?"

I had no idea what to say, I couldn't even breathe, as my mind kept trying and failing to process everything he'd just said. He knew me?! He'd seen me, dreamt about me...

"I... I don't know how to even begin to explain it... where to start..." I admitted quietly.

"The beginning seems like a good place." He quipped, though he wasn't laughing.

"Let me tell you a little story then..." I let out a breath and nodded as I sat on the overgrown roots of the tree at my back, signaling for him to do the same. "I was born Rose Alfdis, on the 20th of March, in 1949..."

I could hear a sharp intake of breath, whether from him or one of the other three people standing nearby I did not know for sure, nor did I pay any attention to them. They weren't important in that moment, only he was...

I told him/them the story, my story. From my birth to the younger half-sister of Howard Stark and her husband, both who'd been involved with Agent Carter, Captain America and his Howling Commandos during WWII. Told them about the night when I dreamt of a sister who didn't yet know she was meant to be my sister, and how she'd die in the fire unless we saved her. About Willow Anya, the girl the world came to see as my twin sister... About my older siblings: Hakon (who'd grow to be a military man, a lawyer and an Agent of SHIELD), and Helena (the firstborn child of Loki and his Nightingale, Goddess of Grief and Hope, whom I'd barely seen in all the years I'd been alive). About the years we spent in England and then in the States, our studies. I even told them about the Xavier siblings, whom we first met while in Oxford, where Mama was studying and Papa gave classes. And then when we'd been in New York, my vision, my decision, and all the choices that had followed. How Will and I'd gone to Westchester, helped Charles recover from all his losses, saved Erik/Max from the government wishing to experiment on him; how we somehow ended helping pull the X-Men back together. I told them about the Paris Peace Accords, the old treaty with the CIA and the military, the fights against Stryker and his ilk. The time he and his minions had invaded the Institute, tried to kidnap some of the children... I even told them about Anya's death, the pain of her loss, and when Peter and Wendy left. I did not mention the one night we'd been together, but there was something in his expression, in the way his eyes traced my face, one of my arms... it made me wonder if he'd seen that in his dreams too (he mentioned remembering my scent, and my voice as I whispered to him...). And then I told them about Egypt, about En Sabah Nur, the vision Peter never knew about, the things I'd done... And the day the twins had died. Their mission in South America, the mutant children, the mercs, their goodbyes... Peter's goodbye...

I was less detailed about what had happened after that. Barely mentioning the fact that I'd spent five years practically locked in the ranch, and when I'd finally moved to Las Cruces, my return to college, the hospital, meeting an eight-year-old Skye, then my decade in Kansas (though I was very careful not to give secrets away), the two years I spent wandering the world, finishing the work Hakon had begun to make the Alliance a reality. And my return to Westchester, the Institute and the X-Men.

When I was done, there was silence, for the longest time no one spoke and then...

"We were born in 1997." Wanda announced unexpectedly.

"What?" I hadn't seen that coming.

"The first of August of 1997." She clarified.

I could still remember that day quite clearly, it was the day I decided to stop locking myself away, when I moved to Las Cruces, took a new name, went to nursing school again... what were the chances that I had pulled out of my funk the exact day he (they) had been born?

I said nothing, though my eyes turned towards the girl in the red dress and black-jacket. If my hunch was right, and Pietro was Peter's reincarnation, it would stand to reason that Wanda was Wendy's... I hadn't actually seen her during the battle in Sokovia, she looked quite different from Wendy... but then again Mama had told me it was like that sometimes, that aside from her eyes and voice she was nothing like her past life: Princess Tinúviel. I already knew that Pietro had the same eyes and powers than Peter, but aside from that nothing...

And turning things round and round in my head really wasn't helping me at all.

I got on my feet, and without quite noticing began pacing before the tree. The wind was picking up, making my hair fly every which way but I didn't much care, my mind was lost, in the past, the present, in possibilities... it was almost too much.

"I don't know." Pietro's sudden words pulled me back to the present.

He was standing then, looking straight at me, a look in his eyes I couldn't quite read.

"What...?" I finally asked him.

"Everything you just told me..." He explained. "I know a part of you wants to ask me if it was true, what he told you at the end. If he loved you, if he wanted you, why did he not tell you before it was too late?" He let out a breath, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know. I'm not him. I'm not this Peter you so loved. I remember you, everything about you... but I don't remember being him. I'd like to think he loved you... then again, if he did, he still gave up on you, which would mean he was an idiot." He shook his head again. "I don't know what he felt, what he might have been thinking. I do know this though: I know my thoughts and my feelings. I know that you've been in them, been a part of me, for as long as I can remember."

He stood before me then and extended a hand, almost but not quite touching my cheek.

"The memory of you dancing around gardens brought me great joy in my childhood, when our parents couldn't afford much in the way of luxuries." He admitted. "It was the memory of you, laying beside me, whispering in Yiddish, words of encouragement, of hope, of comfort, that got both myself and Wanda through the two days we spent underneath our bed, watching the shell of a bomb as we waited for either it to blow us up, or the rescuers to find us. And it was the memory of you standing, fighting, that gave me, gave us both the courage to do the same a week ago."

It didn't exactly surprise me, to learn that Wanda had seen his memories of me as well; if her powers were anything like Scarlet Witch's and she was as close to her twin as Wendy had been to hers, it was only to be expected. Still, I never expected to learn that I (or the memories of me) had been such an important part of their lives. One thing bothered me though, why was it that they'd been seeing me, my past, for so many years, and I hadn't so much as known they existed until just a week before? It didn't seem logical.

Pietro pulled back then and in an instinctive move I raised my own hand, reaching for him, and then I stopped. I looked at my hand, extended, reaching for something that wasn't there...

"Oh Stars..." I breathed out in shock.

The speedster noticed my abortive motion, and before I could explain myself he moved his own hand again, touching mine, I didn't get the chance to even take a breath before the vision swallowed me whole:

There was a boy... and didn't that sound like the start of a soap-opera, or maybe some romantic musical that would probably end in tragedy... I was also, quite evidently, going crazy inside my own head because I knew I was inside a vision, and not any vision but one I'd had before, many times, and I still couldn't stop, could do nothing but let it run its course.

I was standing in an alley, an alley that was being filled by things, electronics, mostly television sets. It took me a while but eventually I realized that they weren't just appearing there, as if by some sort of magic, a boy was carrying them out of a store around the corner and half a block down street. Only he was moving so fast even I didn't seem him at first. He was young, tall, with hair that was somewhere between platinum blonde and actually silver, eyes like steel; in a dark band t-shirt, jeans and worn sneakers.

He was a mutant, and he was young, though he obviously had control of his power; and while stealing was illegal, it wasn't a serious enough crime to concern the X-Men; which back when I'd originally had that mission, had made me doubt why exactly I was seeing it, seeing him. Then the alley around me disappeared, I was transported elsewhere, and actually got to see what it was he was doing with the TVs... It wasn't often that my world-view shifted, but that certainly did it. Especially when I saw him kneeling in front of a dark auburn-haired girl with the same eyes as him, she was laying sprawled on a pink couch, looking completely out of it (in a way my mind had refused to process back then, though had become obvious eventually).

I then saw the boy grow into a man, one who proved he'd the potential to be a lot more than a thief. He was almost always with the redheaded girl from before, standing the two of them side of side; in some of those visions it wasn't even just then, but Willow too, sometimes others like Erik, Charles and/or myself as well. It had been obvious by that point that (that both of them) were meant to be part of our team, of our family.

There was a bit of a shift as the very old vision/dream gave way into memories. Flashes of all the things I'd just told them about: the X-Men, the twins, all the years we'd known one other; there were even flashes of Anya's children, whom I'd hardly mentioned, and a quick one of that day in the sitting room, naked... Then Egypt, the first visions I'd had about Apocalypse, the hope I'd given up on in order to save Wendy's life, and thousands others. And then the day I'd lost it all. The last memory I had of him, and his words to me:

"Rose... I'm sorry... I love you..."

Another flicker, and we were back in the old vision, a piece I'd almost forgotten over the past 40-something years. Though I remembered it then, and what I'd thought when I'd first seen it. I'd thought it a bit strange, because he didn't look quite the same, his clothes were a lot different, but it wasn't even that, his hair was a blonde so light it was practically white, and his features didn't look quite the same (though that might have been the facial hair...), he was running, and there were gun-shots, and then it was all over.

My legs gave up beneath me and I fell in a heap, or at least I would have if Pietro hadn't caught me in the nick of time. Then we ended both sitting on the sand, practically on each other's laps. What I'd just seen, especially the last part... of course I couldn't have known it then. I wasn't a time traveler, I hadn't known how clothing styles would change, and I'd never seen Sokovia before the previous week...

"I saw you..." I breathed out, not quite thinking it through before I said it. "All those years ago, I saw you... and I had no idea."

Did it mean he, Peter, was supposed to die and be reincarnated into Pietro all along? Or that whether Peter or Pietro he was supposed to be in Sokovia that day? If Charles's and Hank's theory about mutants reaching a sort of 'prime' and then slowing in their aging considerably was true, then Peter probably would have stopped aging sometime in the nineties (if he hadn't before), which meant he wouldn't have looked old in Sokovia... So, was his dying a mistake or something and he'd been reincarnated because he simply needed to be in Sokovia? Or a part of the Avengers? Or with me?

Was any of that important at all?!

In the end, the reasons mattered little; and I wasn't the higher power, or one of its envoys, so it's not like I had a way of getting them anyway. Whether Fate or Destiny, chance or necessity, or coincidence or whatever else one might call it... The facts were: Pietro was there, and so was I, we were both warriors, and we were both there! What else was important after that?

It was like my thoughts about guarantees earlier. How unsure I'd been about there being any guarantees that we'd work, when we hadn't before. But truth was, there were no guarantees in life, for anything at all! Even life wasn't a guarantee, even those of us with the chance to live for thousands of years, we were not invulnerable, we could die just like anyone else (even if it was harder to kill us). There were no guarantees in life, but that was alright, I could live with that. I could choose to take the risk, to make my life worth it, to make all the years of mourning and waiting worth it. And it wasn't even about Peter anymore, it was more than that. Because in the end I didn't love a man (one might say he'd never given me the chance to do so), I loved his soul, I always had and always would.

I didn't know which one of us moved in for the kiss first, in the end it wasn't that important. Only the kiss itself was.

xXx

At some point Skye and Grant took my bike to Deming and got us all some lunch. We spent a long while outside, near the garden, talking about everything and nothing, until suddenly it began raining. It seemed to almost come out of nowhere, though I wasn't that surprised, it was still the middle of the raining season after all, and while it never lasted long in South New Mexico, it could still be quite hard, and even dangerous for those unprepared.

Still, I didn't feel like being inside the house, so I lead the others to the back veranda, where Skye and Grant immediately cuddled together on the wide swing. Wanda ignored the various chairs and sofas and chose to sit on the ground, with her back against a column. And me? I was too giddy to relax, so I began twirling around, like a little girl, still barefoot, frequently giggling at nothing at all.

I could sense the amusement from most of my companions, but I did not care, I knew they were not trying to be mean, they simply didn't understand what I was feeling, the way I was so full of joy I couldn't quite contain it. I was quite sure that if Mama had been anywhere around I'd be driving her crazy too. On the other hand, she and Papa would understand me better; even if they'd only remembered the past after they were already back together, they knew what it was like to lose one another, and to find love again...

At some point Skye brought out her iPod and portable speakers and began playing some music. Pietro joined me for a few songs, and we even managed to pull Wanda with us for one or two. We were behaving like children! And while the twins might have the excuse of being barely twenty years old (their birthday had just passed, the day after the Battle of Sokovia), I was almost seventy years old! (Well, technically 68, but the point remained).

Eventually another song began, and as the first notes rang across the veranda Pietro was suddenly beside me, holding me tight, dancing with me. I vaguely heard a man sing in another language, one I had heard before but didn't actually know, a form of Arabic, I thought. But it was until the main part of the song, the part actually in English, finally began, that things really got interesting, as Pietro began singing it to me, looking into my eyes even as he twirled me around the veranda.

"I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand"

"I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire"

Pietro wasn't exactly the best of singers, I had to admit it to myself, yet that didn't matter a jot, as I really listened to the lyrics of the song, realized the significance of it... It was so perfect...

"There he goes with that song again..." I vaguely heard Wanda mutter.

"Again?" Skye asked quietly, probably so as not to interrupt our moment.

"My brother's been completely obsessed with that song since we were like five years old." Wanda informed my daughter. "Truly gone... he acts like the song holds the secrets of the universe."

"Maybe to him it did." Grant suggested.

And perhaps he was right, I wondered if any of them, even Wanda, were paying close attention to the lyrics. To the way they fit so perfectly with me, with both of us, with our love... our love, I could hardly believe it still, yet it was true. I had my match, and he loved me, and it was perfect.

"This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this"

"And as she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems"

There was so much I didn't understand, that we both didn't understand. Like how exactly Pietro, who had no psychic gift, had managed to see so much of me, of my past, in his dreams; or why I'd been so utterly unable to remember my own dreams about him until the day of the Battle. It worried me somewhat, if there might be something more sinister at work... and yet, we were together right then. Whatever else might have or have not happened, we'd managed to find each other in the end. We were together, we loved each other... it should have been insane, considering that in his current life we hadn't known each other for more than a few hours and yet it felt right somehow. Perhaps it was the fact that we were a match. He was meant to be mine, much as I was meant to be his. We were meant to be one, always and forever, till the last star fell from the sky.

"I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand"

"I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes
This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of her love"

There was some more Arabic in the background as Pietro began twirling me around, almost too fast. I giggled like a little girl even as I held tighter onto him; it wasn't like I was getting dizzy or in risk of falling, but still, I just wanted him to hold me. I wasn't letting go, not then, not ever.

At some point I noticed that we weren't the only ones dancing anymore, Grant and Skye were doing the same, and even Wanda was gliding and twirling around with a big smile, as if being led by an invisible partner (for a fraction of a second I thought I could see someone, or the echo of someone, tall and athletic, dancing with her, but then it was gone and Wanda was alone again).

"I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand"

"Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this"

"Sweet desert rose
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower
This rare perfume, is the sweet intoxication of the fall"

xXx

The next morning we were making plans for going back to New York sometime soon (though we weren't actually in a rush). The twins were telling us more about their lives when I noticed Wanda playing with a thin chain around her neck.

"Excuse me," I called, interrupting the others' laughter at the most recent story. "What is that?"

"Oh this?" Wanda began pulling at it. "It was a gift from our father, an heirloom, he said it had belonged to his mother, and his mother's father..."

When she finally finished pulling at it, the locket at the end became visible to us all, and I froze.

"Rose..." Pietro called, sounding concerned.

I wasn't even thinking, I extended a hand, the moment I touched the locket I was thrown into a vision, and Wanda along with me (her power apparently allowed it).

We got a series of flashes, in reverse order as we soon realized. We saw the twenty-year-old Wanda, playing with the locket; her nineteen-year-old self holding onto it as Strucker's other volunteers began to die; refusing to surrender it when the experiments began on her; her as a teenager, protecting it from those who tried to mug her, time and again; the ten-year old girl, holding the locket tightly in one hand, the other holding onto her twin's, as their parents' bodies were lowered into the earth; crying into it and into Pietro as a bomb rested feet from their faces; her dad, placing it around her neck, when she was a little girl...

I gasped, inside my mind and out. And the images that followed only confirmed what my heart had realized already. The twins' father, was Django. I saw him hold the newborn twins; marry a Sokovian woman, having changed his name from Django Eisenhardt-Reynolds to Maximoff; saw him meet the woman who'd become his wife: Maria; flashes of his travels through the world; the day he'd decided to leave Westchester; I even got a few flashes of Anya and of Tate...

Wanda and I gasped almost in unison as we returned to reality.

"What just happened?" Pietro demanded, looking at both of us in turn.

"I..." I shook my head, trying to clear it.

"We saw our parents." Wanda explained. "And our grandparents, and our great-grandfather..."

"What?!" No one was expecting that.

"You're Django's children." I blurted out. "Willow was your grandmother..."

"You mean they're Magneto's descendants?!" Skye exclaimed, the first to connect the dots.

I nodded, not having words to actually say it. They were Django's children, Django, who we'd lost so long ago, they were another piece of Anya's legacy, just like Nina. And Erik... stars! I couldn't begin to imagine how Erik would react.

"We need to get to NY." I stated, already getting on my feet.

"You know, there's no hurry." Grant began. "The team will be in the tower for another few days at least, or I suppose they could join us here, we could even take a vacation..."

"Not the tower." I shook my head. "We need to go to Westchester."

It was insane, beyond that even (then again, what part of my life wasn't insane?). Still, Erik deserved to meet his great-grandchildren, even without considering that they were, in fact, the reincarnation of his youngest children, of the old twins... they were still family regardless. They were Django's children and they were alone, had been alone since they were ten years old... they deserve to have a family again. And while I had no doubt that the Avengers could in time become a family to them... so could Erik, Charles and Nina, so could we all.

"Oh..." Grant nodded. "Alright. I suppose we could go now."

We all nodded. We were soon ready to go.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Wanda asked, once we were in the air, she sounded nervous. "I mean, what if they don't believe us, or they don't want us..."

"They will believe you, will believe us." I assured her. "And of course they will want you! If only we'd known ten years ago what had happened... They'd have never allowed you to be alone, you know? If Charles and Erik had had the slightest inkling that you so much as existed, they'd have gone straight to Sokovia to get you."

"Really?" Wanda sounded between hesitant and eager.

"Really." I assured her. "Erik loves all of his children, and while Charles had no biological ones, I know he sees all of Erik's as his own as well. It has been hard for them, all the loses time has brought us. Not just of... Peter and Wendy," I'd have said the twins, but it just didn't feel right with them being there. "But also Johann and Anya, and of course Django... The only reason they let him go was because he wanted to. Because he wasn't happy, being the only baseline human in a place filled with mutants..."

"Mutants?" Pietro asked suddenly. "Our family?"

"Yes." I nodded. "I've told you about Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch. Willow wasn't a mutant, she was very much human, though she played Watchtower for the X-Men sometimes; Johann too was human, though his sister Vera was a mutant as well. And then from Willow's children, Django was born human, but Nina is a mutant, she has the ability to talk to animals and a certain... I guess you could call it charisma, I'm not sure how else to define it. She's also a lawyer."

"Wait, so we have both a great-grandfather and an aunt?" Pietro asked, eagerly.

"Three aunts, Vera is still alive, and she has a daughter: Ivy, who has no spouse or children." I pointed out. "I'm sure Charles would love it if you considered him family too, and with him you would then be getting his sister Raven, her wife Irene, her son Kurt and his own fiancée: Ororo."

"Oh wow..." The twins murmured practically at the same time.

I imagined it must be shocking, going from having no family at all, to the possibility of a big one. Skye's expression told me she understood that very well.

I still had no idea how exactly I was going to even begin to explain to Charles and Erik about the twins (just their parentage, without even beginning to consider the whole reincarnation thing, which they might find even less believable)... Perhaps I could just put my thoughts in order for a bit and let them into my head; then they could see everything that had happened since Sokovia (and probably even my visions), it might make things easier in the long run... and while the thought of them seeing how much I loved Pietro already gave me some pause, it's not like I thought they wouldn't be finding out anyaway.

So, we lead insane lives, and they wouldn't be getting any better (they were actually more likely to get worse at some point). We had a storm coming our way (I hadn't forgotten the huge vision I'd gotten before my parents left) but we had time to worry about that. For the time being I was going to enjoy my huge family and having my match back with me. Life was good... And we'd make sure it stayed that way.