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Website/Homepage: verthil's website
Disclaimers: marvel owns these characters, this fan fiction is not making any money. The author has allowed the archiving of his work on this site.
Fandom: X-Men (especially jubilee)
Disclaimer : Marvel owns the X-men, I'm just borrowing them.
Chapter One : Friends
Jubilee awoke slowly, slipping out of her bed and making her way silently to the bathroom. At first glance to the mirror a new wave of tears welled in her eyes, a face staring back her own and yet not her own. The irony was not lost to her, of how she exploited herself for the glamour she sought, a prostitute of her heritage to a world seeking the chiche thing for the moment. Turning about, she started the water for a hot shower, then tending to the rags of the costume she had on her from the night prior. Tears finally broke free as the nigh impenitrable floodgates of her emotions opened, collapsing to her knees as heaving sobs shook her petite frame.
He could hear her crying, the tears of one whose dream had been shattered by stark reality. A sigh escaped him as he thought of how happy she had been as of late, landing bit parts in a variety of productions. The entire time he had opposed it, knowing the sleeze out there in the world, praying upon her naivity that had come as of late. He supposed it had been the years of a life as an X-man, and before that a runaway, always having to shield herself to survive. Perhaps for once in her life she wanted to just act her age, letting the maturity ingrained in her lapse, or the bravado slip away as she indulged a dream of others. In the end it had hurt him to see her so broken, like a doll left behind, forgotten.
Turning from his place before the bathroom door, he looked about their apartment, seeking anything to take his mind off the pain his friend and teammate was going through. He noticed the mess it had become, take-out boxes littering the living room and dishes scattered about their small kitchen. Countless times before he said he would clean up this place on his day off, yet never had he made good on those words. Suddenly, it seemed a good way to loose himself to the task, while Jubilee cleaned herself up.
She sat in the tub, the spray of the shower washing over her as the makeup and masscara washed away and down the drain. The tears shed mingled with the spray, vanishing, but the sobs remained. How could she have let herself be used so easily, she had stood up to countless evils of the world, even the depraved mind of Bastion, yet she had let a sleazy manager use her not unlike the role the night prior had held for her. All she wanted was to act her age for once, let the dream of Charles Xavier be cared for by those who still wore the emblem of his X-men. She just wanted to live a normal life for once in her life, like any other teenaged girl her age. But how could one call life in a world that sat upon the brink of war normal.
Slowly she found her way to her feet, her knees using the last strenght she could muster to clean herself up, wash away the filth that she had been covered in. Layers upon layers of filth. It wasn't until the water ran cold that she realized she had been lost to the anger that now filled her. Rinsing the last of the soap off, she climbed out of the shower and turned off the water, wrapping a warm towel about her now goosebump ridden skin. With a glance to the mirror, a familiar face looked back, a face that had been there on nights when her life had taken a turn for the worst, her parents deaths, Logan's near death at the hands of Magneto, Everett's death, her room being burnt by the pigeon-minded bigots and racists. Slowly the face smiled.
"Welcome back." Jubilee whispered, tears lingering in her eyes.
Finally the water stopped, having passed the point when any hot water would remain in the delapitated apartment building that they had found upon their arrival to LA. Giving a glance about the apartment, he couldn't help but smile at the spotless gleam that greeted him, a fresh start. He still needed to vacum, but other than that the clutter was gone, with a few extra garbage bags to take to the chute. Whipping out a tendril of skin, he turned on the coffee maker and pulled down two cups, intent on fixing one to just the way Jubilee liked hers, enough sugar to stop the hearts of small animals and with just a touch of vanilla creamer.
After just having sat down on the sofa with two steaming cups of coffee before him, he finally heard the door of the bathroom creak open. Giving a glance back, he noticed Jubilee wrapped in a towel with her long ebony locks peeking out from the towel she had wrapped about her head. She looked so small and innocent, like a child he thought. A meek smile passed her lips as she looked to him, taking baby steps out from the bathroom and over to the sofa.
"Hi." Jubilee whispered, taking quick glances at Angelo while too trying to avert her own eyes from his.
"Made coffee." Angelo said as he offered her the awaiting brew in her favorite mug, a mug of Willie Coyote she had modified to be her 'Wolvie' mug, adding fangs and mutton chops.
"Thanks." Jubilee whispered, taking the cup in her pale hands, drawing in the warmth.
The pair sat in silence at that point, sipping from their coffee while taking glances occasionally. Jubilee's gaze wandered about the apartment, noticing for the first time in ages that it had actually been cleaned. Angelo hated cleaning she recalled, remembering the arguments Sean had constantly been having with him during their years with Generation X. Setting her cup carefully down on the table, she turned to him and wrapped her arms about him, nestling her head against his chest.
"Thanks." She whispered, feeling his arms wrapping about her in a tender embrace.
"Hey, don't worry about it. What are friends for if not to help pick up the pieces." Angelo whispered, tracing circles about her shoulder.
"Dude, this is above and beyond. I don't even know what I was doing. I was just so clouded and didn't even see what was so painfully obvious to you. I treated you like shit. And yet you forgive me so easily." Jubilee continued.
"Nothing easy about it Jubicita, but you're as stubborn as your Canucklehead. Had to let you figure it out on your own, despite how much it hurt me." Angelo whispered as he pulled Jubilee closer to him.
Jubilee slowly looked up to him, their eyes locking to one another, each noticing the pain filling the depths. Creeping closer, she pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before slipping out of his grasp and making her way to the hallway that lead to their adjacent bedrooms. Pausing for a moment at the hallway, they looked to one another as indecision caught ahold of them.
"My schedule just got blown open, want to go do something Ange?" Jubilee asked quietly.
"Sure thing Jubes, anything you want. Now go get dressed will ya!" Angelo replied, a little mirth filling his voice in the end, earning a weak chuckle from Jubilee.
Disclaimer : Marvel owns the X-men, I'm just borrowing them.
Author's Note : Inspired by the What If issue 87, Screams in the Night.
Chapter One : First Days
She sat on the roof, staring out to the horizon, lost to her own world. Few knew what she saw there, and even fewer would ever speak of the glimpses they witnessed. A ghost of her former self, once vibrant and full of life, now quiet and reserved, never having spoken a word since the day it happened. As the fall leaves drifted on the winds, she stirred back to the reality she so despertly sought to escape, a sigh passing her lips. Carefully she walked back to the old bell tower of the school, the portal to her escape. A moments distraction could spell disaster, a slip leading to a tumble and a fall some four stories. And as a bird perched upon the railing of the old bell tower, she paused, taking a step back to admire the beauty, a step back unto a loose shingle. She didn't scream, she had long lost the breath to scream. As she fell, she embraced her fate, and hoped for silence.
A swift movement beyond her range of vision, and she suddenly felt arms holding her, cradling her gently, while she stared at the ground below, dispondant. The ground slowly neared, as the figure, her saviour drifted down, embracing the ground once more, then walking to an old oak tree across the driveway. As Jubilee finally looked up, a smiling face looked down to her, setting her in her lap as she sighed. Meekly Jubilee returned the smile, her gaze lingering a moment longer before falling on the main doors of the academy.
"Do be more careful Jubilation, I will not always be there to catch you." Monet said, following her gaze to the main doors as the Headmaster stepped out, looking to the pair oddly.
"Is everything alright lass?" Sean called out, slowly closing on the pair as he walked casually across the lane.
"It is now. Jubilation was sitting upon the roof, having yet another one of her spells. She paused to look at a bird, loosing her footing on a loose single." Monet explained, looking down to the girl in her lap.
"Saints preserve us, I thought I had that door bolted shut." Sean exclaimed, drawing close and kneeling down to look at the one time X-man.
"I would suggest something a little more sturdy than a mere deadbolt Mr. Cassidy, for if you do recall, young Jubilation did often hang about your fellow X-man, Gambit." Monet explained, having taken note of Jubilation's perilous perch after finding the lock to have been picked, though giving her space enough to do as she pleased.
"Ach, ye be right lass. I'll actually speak ta the thief in question on what he would suggest ta keep Jubilee from getting up there." Sean remarked, looking down to the dispondant Jubilation, gently brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.
"I shall keep an eye on her Mr. Cassidy, are you not needed at the airport?" Monet inquired, Sean suddenly looking to his watch and cursing.
"Thank ye lass, I almost forgot!" Sean exclaimed, rushing to the house and grabbing his car keys, then yelling for Everett and Paige to join him.
Swiflty the Cadillac convertable sped out the driveway, and past the encompasing gates of the Acadamey, heading off to Logan International Airport to pick up their latest charge. Jubilee followed the car, a lingering look to her gaze before she once more looked up to the enimatic Monet. Cautiously she crept from the arms that held her, sitting next to her elder peer, crossing her legs as she watched the main doors. As her gaze became distant, Monet knew once more that Jubilation had yet again been lost to reality, her mind retreating to that place where she had hid since that awful night had befallen the X-men.
The screams had finally stopped, though the silence was far worse. The shadows flickered as the lasers of the scenario blinked in and out of existance, almost faster than the eye could see. He had to finally be dead. There was no way he could survive that, healing factor or not. Creeping to the window, she looked down, instantly regreting it as she did so. The charred remains of one Victor Creed laid strewn about the door, the lasers still shooting into the burnt flesh, ever reducing him to nothing more than a blackened carcass. She felt the urge to vomit, but fought against it. She had to get to Hank, if he was still alive, he needed help.
Racing from the control room of the Danger Room, she ran back into the depths of the mansion, a shiver passing down her spine as the shadows grew darker, almost tangible as she ran down the winding stairs. Coming to an abrupt halt, she stared down the corridor, fear welling in her as she looked to the lifeless form of Hank, strew outside the doors of the powercore. Cursing, she chastised herself and ran for Hank, knowing that if he were alive, he needed help immediatly, not her standing about too afraid to move.
As she neared him, her stomach twisted with the battered and broken form of the lovable man that hid his own pain behind a smile and witty humor. Kneeling down, she felt for a pulse as she did with Bishop, and nearly broke down crying as the fates smiled upon her thi time. Every so weak and tired, but indeed it was there. Fear suddenly overtook her as she looked to the man, then back down the corridor she came from. The med lab was a horrid five flights up, and she was by no means capable of carrying the man.
"Oh god Hank! Don't die! I don't know what to do!" Jubilee wailed, tears welling in her eyes as the feeling of being utterly helpless and alone took hold of her.
'What'sa matter frail? Can't do a thing without yer Pappy Logan to hold her hand?' A voice called out, causing Jubilee to freeze.
As she slowly rose, sending a barrage of plasmoids down either end of the corridor and finding it to be vacant aside from Hank and herself. Taking in a shuddering breath, she slowly crouched down and checked upon Hank's pulse again, still finding it to be there, just ever barely holding onto life.
"Okay Lee, it's just your mind playing tricks on you. Creed is..." Jubilee whispered, her throat growing tight as she dared not even say the words.
Shaking her head clear, she found new determination to her task at hand, getting Hank to the med lab before his faltering pulse beat for it's final time. Looking about, an idea struck her. Running into the heavily damaged power core, she started picking up strands of cable, then rushing back to Hank and yet once more finding his pulse. Rewarded for the moment, she started to wrap the cable about Hank, and then about herself. She might not be able to carry him, but with her stubborn will, she would drag him up those five flights of stairs if it was the last thing she did.
'Probably will be frail. One wrong step and ye'll prolly fall over the edge, joinin' Bishop on the other side.' The voice called out once more.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut the hell up!" Jubilee screamed, her head darting about wildly as she looked to the shadows, faint laughter ringing in her mind.
"Shut up..." Jubilee whispered, tears flowing freely from her eyes as she looked to Hank, a sobering image as she began her trek to the med lab.
Monet looked to Jubilee, worried as she felt anger and grief radiating from the girl, a breach of the shields that had been unconsciously slammed up after she and Emma had been locked in the Danger Room as the Phalanx took free reign over the X-mansion. From what Emma told her, Jubilee had been the worst in those days, having to be fed the little food they had been given until Banshee had rescued them. She had still been in Bobby's body at the time, and found it greatly disconcerting looking to her own body after finally being freed. Shaking her head out of the reverly of the tale Emma had told Monet in confidance, she looked down to the youngest memeber of Generation X with a concerned look.
"What do you see in there..." Monet whispered, allowing her mind to reach out to the borders of Jubilee's mindscape, watching from a hilltop as she looked to the twisted landscape below, a realm of nightmares made of the X-mansion. Probing further, she saw a figure pulling a burden up a spiralling staircase, and in that moment she realized that it was Jubilee. Drawing closer, she was not prepared for the nightmares that lurked in her charges mind, a flash of red and claws sending her reeling back into reality, shaken and shocked.
"Mon Dieu!" Monet exclaimed, staring at Jubilee.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she refused to cry. Ever so gently she pulled Jubilee into her lap, absently stroking her hair while she pulled her into a hug, hoping that she might feel the token affection. Whatever the young girl was struggling with, whatever demons she had to face, for now she had to do so alone, her walls built too high for anyone to penetrate. Sighing, she found an ironic sense of kinship, having spent her life within walls, both of cement and social standing.
From her office, the Headmistress looked out, her heart swelling as she noticed two figures out upon the lawn, the elder of the two tending to the shattered mind of the younger. A faint smile passed over her face, letting out a sigh, she turned back to her desk to review the files. Lost to her own thoughts, she barely even noticed the form of Clarice pop her head in the door. As the girl waited there, not wishing to interupt her Headmistress, Emma suddenly noticed the lingering presence and looked up.
"Might I help you Clarice?" Emma asked, looking to the girl darkening her doorway.
"Umm...Miss Frost...I saw a little man in a loin cloth, spinning what looked like a wilagig." Clarice responded in a meek tone, slowly creeping into the room.
"Where did you see this man?" Emma inquired, leaning over her desk as she nervously flicked her riding crop.
"Near the biosphere. I only saw him for a moment before he vanished." Clarice replied.
"Hmm...do tell me if he returns. I do not care for unwelcome guests here." Emma remarked, earning a nod from her charge who quickly departed.
Emma sighed as Clarice left, feeling sad for the girl, yet even more sad for herself. While she wished to exude a sense of authority, she did not wish for her stuidents to either resent or fear her. So far, of them, Paige seemed eager to please, while Everett's own pleasant nature did not pose any problem. Angelo, the rebelious hispanic youth seemed apathetic towards her, while Monet challenged her authority every chance she got. And then there was Clarice, timid and fearful after her experience, and of course Jubilee, still traumatized from the death of Creed. Sighing, she turned back to the window, watching as the elder student comforted the younger.
"God Blue, cut down on the twinkies!" Jubilee cried out, pulling the fallen X-man up the stairs, counting every flight she passed as she grew closer to the desired floor.
'Whatsa matter Frail? Can't handle the dead weight?' The voice taunted, sending a shiver down Jubliee as she yet again ran back and checked for a pulse.
"Shut up! Shut up! Your dead! You can't hurt me! I killed you! Shut the hell up!" Jubliee screamed after finding a pulse, though finding it growing ever weaker.
The voice remained silent as her own words echoed down the stairs, bringing tears to her eyes as the awful truth came back to her, she had taken a life when X-men weren't to kill. But they couldn't blame her, she assured herself again, she had no choice. It was either him or her. He had already killed Bishop, and left Hank tettering on the brink. Summoning up her fleeting courage, she struggled on, looking up to the doorway that stood a flight up, only one more flight to go until she got to the last stretch of her trek.
'Sure they can't blame ya. Yer absolutly right. It was either you are me, and I was gonna leave yer guts all over the bloody mansion for them ta find. Though it wouldn't be the same without the runt around ta find yer corpse like he did that squaw of his.' The voice of Creed growled.
"Shut up! You didn't kill Silverfox! That memory was an implant! Your head is so full of lies that ya can't even tell what's real and whats not!" Jubilee screamed, a new strength finding it's way to her as she struggled on.
'Tough talk kid, and yer the one talkin' ta a deadman.' The voice replied, growing silent afterwards.
Tears fell down Jubilee's cheeks, shocked that she even had tears left after this night. Pushing back the thoughts, she struggled on, finally making her way to the landing, and seeing the lights of the med lab standing off down the hallway. Checking on Hank once more, she carried on after finding a pulse.
"Shut up..." Jubilee whispered, the words barely audible.
Monet suddenly snapped to attention, looking down to Jubilee, wide-eyed as she saw the younger girl's lips mouthing something. Just as suddenly as it had started though, the lips drew shut once more, growing into an expressionless line. Sighing, Monet hugged Jubilee, fighting tears after her hopes rising for a breakthrough. Looking skyward, she thought of how in that short time she had gotten to know Jubilee, she had grown to look upon her as a little sister, both suffering from their families being destoryed by tragedy. Sighing, she returned to her own thoughts as she leaned into the trunk of the tree, absently stroking her younger companions hair.
"No! God no! Don't you do this to me! Do you not dare do this to me! After I dragged your hairy behind up here you can not die on me! You hear me you big blue ape! You can't die on me!" Jubilee screamed as she did her best to administer CPR to the fallen X-man.
'Take off his suit frail, I mighta tore it ta shreds, though it's still gonna make it harder ta do what ya gotta do.' The voice called out, a mocking tone to it.
"Don't you ever take a hint?" Jubilee asked with venom in her voice, slowly peeling away the cumbersome suit.
'I ain't the one in need of a hint frail. I'm dead. Yer the one talkin' ta ghosts.' The voice replied.
"Oh god. This is what Wolvie talked about. This is why he raised me better than that, knowing not to kill. Oh god, oh god, oh god..." Jubilee stuttered as she collapsed in a heap on the floor, her body exhausted and tired, her soul bleeding to death as she looked up to the ceiling.
'Don't like what ya got Frail? I coulda made it all better if ya just played nice fer yer Uncle Vic. But ya had ta be stubborn, just like yer Pappy Logan. I could have made the pain go away. Killed ya nice and painless like. But you just had to fight it. Now ya can just suck it up and deal with it.' The voice whispered in her ear, startling her as she felt breath on her neck.
Looking about the room, Jubilee saw that she was alone aside for the fallen Bobby Drake and Emma Frost across from her, and the dying Hank on the bed next to her. Rage built in her as she jumped to her feet, slamming her fists into Hank's chest as she screamed wildy, lost to the anger. Her vision grew dark as she felt hands grab her, pulling her away.
"Leave me alone! I killed you! Your dead! You can't hurt me anymore!" Jubilee screamed as she collapsed in the arms, wails of pain echoing through the mansion, drowning out all sound.
In the doorway, Yukio and Ororo stood aghast, while Remy held Jubilee in his arms fighting with the teen. As Remy pulled her from the med lab, Yukio and Ororo quickly ran to the bedside of Hank, pulling out a crash unit and working to save the fallen X-man's life, pulling him back from the beyond. Tears fell freely as they heard the screams ring out from down the hall, Remy yelling to Jubilee, yet getting no response. Their hearts ached as the phrases repeated, 'I killed you! You can't hurt me anymore!', yet as they thought, in the end, he had hurt her far beyond anything he could have done with his claws. Tearing her apart from the inside, from the place where no physical blow could ever find home, leaving nothing but pain and terror filled screams.
Chapter Two : Shadows
Home. A simple little word. But the most simple of things are often the most cherished and closely guarded. Home is the safe place that awaits you at the end of the day, as shadows grow long and the lingering rays of sunlight are swallowed by the abysmal night. Home had been lost years ago, the hope for a nights rest and rejuvination shattered by a truth known to few, a birthright hidden for years, leaving you in blissful ignorance. Different in many ways, yet changing a such a simple thing. With those who this truth is known that loose home, hope is lost for that restful slumber during the grips of the night, and only the shadows remain.
Jonothon Evan Starsmore found the truth of his mutant birthright as the psonic energy consumed him from within, ripping free and shattering his form. In that day he lost many things, his sense of self worth, his family, his voice, his girlfriend, and in the end, his home. The day grew old as he knelt on the street, tears falling from his eyes and to the sidewalk. The fires grew weak and he looked to the shadow of who he was and would never be. The sun faded from the sky, dipping past the rooftops of the horizon, his shadow growing longer and tearing free of him.
Jumping to his feet, he ran after the shadow of his old self, shadows of the abysmal night preying upon his heels. Finally the light of the day flickered away, the shadows consuming him. As he fell to his knees once more, he clutched at his chest, drawing himself tight. The light of revelation hidden as he did so, the truth of his birthright held within as the shadows consumed him and welcomed him to the cold night. The chill of the evening took hold of his flesh, flesh that longed to shake with sobs that would never be known to him again. A wail built within his soul that longed for outlet, a scream against the injustice.
The outlit soon was found as his back arched and his tearfilled eyes shot hatefilled gaze to the heavens, the psonic energy ripping free of him, coiling around him like the Serpent of Eden, innocence lost. The shadows drew back, lingering upon the edges and hiding in the alleyways. Looking ahead, his own shadow was lost, as was who he had been. Wiping away the last of the tears, he rose and strode forth into the night, defiant to the fate that had befallen him. With all he had lost, he still had the anger that fueled the songs he sang within the bars of London, and that anger would see him through the night until he found home again, and a restful slumber.
She stared at shadow as it grew long with the dying of the light. Behind her the sun set upon the Westchester Estate of Charles Francis Xavier, the gunshots ringing out finally to end the ceremony. Bishop had died with honor and was now buried with the same honor due. She had avenged him, she told herself, but she knew in the end that she could have saved him.
'Coulda, woulda, shoulda.' The voice whispered in her ear, the breath upon her neck causing her to flinch.
"Your dead." Jubilee whispered in a voice that knew no strength of conviction, no intonments of banishing, merely a simple truth to herself.
Silence was her reply, the gunshots still ringing in her ears while the flapping of the wings of birds stirred clawed across the landscape. Tears welled in her eyes as images of the night came back to her, her defiant stand against Victor, hoping that she did Logan proud. She knew now that she had failed him with every lesson he had taught her. She had failed them all, Bishop was dead and Hank was in a coma along with Bobby and Frost. The tears became harder to fight against, and soon broke free, falling against the grass beneath her. A gentle breeze carassed her, cold and damp, a sign of the night to come.
'Too scared to even pay respects frail?' The voice taunted her once more, as if empowered by the night that drew about her.
Jubilee remained silent, yet slowly climbed to her feet and drifted into the treeline as she melded with the shadows, a lesson taught to her by years on the street and by Logan. She could see them all shuffling away, tears in the eyes of some, anger in others. She was glad she wasn't a telepath or an empath for this would have surely killed her. They all bore pity for her, self loathing for not having been there to save her, but in the end she knew the rules when she joined up, that it was no game. She wanted to scream at them all, accept the guilt for it, but in the end she remained silent and watched until the last of their forms faded into the shadow of the mansion.
Tepidation took hold of her as she took that first step out of the shadows, the candles still burning gently in the windows of the small chapel that stood off to the side of the graveyard. A chill ran down her spine as memories of Illyana's burial came back to her, and of Peter's departure to Magneto in his grief. She would never blame him, she knew the pain of loosing family. The guilt. The questions that plauged ones mind with those two simple words, What If. What if she had been there to save her family, What If they had been able to save her, What If she had pulled that trigger. In the back of her mind a lingering laughter echoed.
"Shut up." Jubilee whispered, drawing closer to the freshly turned earth and the simple gravestone that adorned the grave of a simple man.
It was how he would have wanted it, she mused. A simple grave, death in battle for The Dream, and few words spoken. She blinked as drops of water fell upon the gravestone, and looking up to the sky she found only stars shining upon her. Surprise came as she felt her cheeks, the tears that she had thought lost to her that first night, the tears of countless deaths gone unmourn. She had cried throughout the night, and only stopped as a fearfilled slumber took hold of her. Looking down to the gravestone, a dark smile took over her face, for in the end it was all she had left for him, the tears, a silent apology for failing him in the moment that he needed her the most.
Lightning brought light to the night, a flash of a silohuette in the distance fading quickly as the thunder rumbled. Slowly he drew closer, with every step taken the sound of crying grew louder. Finally as he drew within a pace, he found a girl soaked to the bone, shaking like a leaf as the wind ripped against her. She was dressed in nothing more than a night gown, and as the light of his psonic flame danced upon her, she appeared pale as a ghost. The look in her eyes was not of the present, yet merely a time and place where tears were still fresh.
~ Hello Gel. ~ Jonothon greeted, kneeling down next to her as he took off his jacket.
Jubilee blinked once, the expression in her eyes changing as she slowly looked up to him, a look of innocence held in them. No reply was given to his greeting, merely she sat there and stared at the stranger before her. The tears upon her cheeks were lost to the frigid drops of rain that fell from the night sky, and as Jonothon reached out a hand to carass her cheek, he found her to be cold as ice. Slowly he put the jacket over her and picked her up, finding her feeling frail and small. Looking down to her once more, he found her gaze lost to the night, where archs of lightning banished the shadows hold over the lawn in front of the mansion.
With a bright flash, a figure appeared, the same man from the airport that had returned the students of Generation X to the school. Walking closer, Jonothon wrapped Jubilee in his jacket as best he could, shielding her from the pelting rain and the raging wind. The figure looked to Jubilee with sad eyes, and Jonothon didn't know whether it was tears that suddenly appeared upon his cheeks, or the rain. Curiosity lingered, but he knew he had to get the girl in his arms out of the storm, lest she suffer further. Turning his back on the man, he walked to the mansion.
Jubilee didn't know how long she had sat at the gravestone, not when a jacket had been draped about her to ward against the night chill. Pulling it closer to herself, she scanned the grounds about her, finally settling upon the figure sitting upon one of the benches that had been brought out. Smoke drifted into the night, ghostly in the pale light of the slowly burning candles. Demon eyes watched her with a curious expression, and she knew it could only be one man, the only man she let close to her since that night.
"You ready to come back in P'tite, dey be gone now and de others have gone to bed." Remy whispered, knowing she would hear his words and her alone.
Tears welled in her eyes once more, the warmth of the jesture filling her. Shaking her head, she slowly rose from her perch at the gravestone and walked to Remy, taking a seat next to him. A strong arm wrapped about her, pulling her to him and letting her head rest upon his lap as her legs found rest on the bench. Words were not needed, jestures said what could not. Soft words danced upon the night winds, a lullaby in french, words beyond her comprehension, yet tone and pitch speaking to her soul. Pulling the jacket closer, she could feel her ghost, her torment leaving for the moment, banished by the strength of one man.
"Sleep well P'tit, Remy keep you safe." Remy whispered as he felt Jubilee drift into a restful slumber.