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witchbydavidcain · 6 years

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Witch

Witch a nanowrimo novel by Lord Malinov

Art is accusation, expression, passion. Art is black charcoal crushing white paper.

—

Gunter Grass, The Tin Drum

1. Prologue

I’m writing this book because I believe my wife is a witch, that she has magical powers. Looking back with twenty/twenty hindsight, I thought she was a witch from the beginning, since the very first time we met. In a way, she showed me who she was right away, revealed her true form, so to speak. I realize now that she never does that with anyone else. From the start, I was different. I like that.

But my mind wasn’t there. I never dreamed that she was really a witch. I wasn’t open to the idea. I dismissed the connections, the visions and coincidences, just assumed the strange things that had happened were the result of an overactive imagination, fueled by the usual assortment of recreational intoxicants and being under-fed and over-tired. I thought maybe I was a bit mad, long before I thought seriously about her being a witch. It just made more sense to me.

I guess her having powers doesn’t necessarily make her a witch, but you know what I mean. She’s clearly a human being; she spends her days doing ordinary human things, so I don’t think she’s an alien or some other kind of supernatural being. I don’t think she shows any signs of possession. I haven’t seen her shape-shifting or anything dramatic like that. Sorceress, wizard, high priestess in some dark occult religion, perhaps. I’m just going to call her a witch. It suits her. I can wrap my head around that.

The thing is, the reason I’m writing all this down, is that lots of strange stuff has happened since I met her and I want to make a record of it, just in case. Sometimes it scares me senseless. I don’t know what I mean. If something should happen to me, I was going to say, but I don’t think anything is going to happen. In case some one needs to understand what has been going on with her. I’ve been a front-line witness to years of witchy behavior. I just think I should write it all down.

At the very least, it’s an interesting story. Maybe that’s why I want to write it down, because I don’t have anyone I can tell it to. I can’t even imagine who I’d seriously discuss this with. They’d think I was crazy or seriously laugh at me. Married to a witch. I’m dying to tell someone about it but I’m going to keep my mouth shut. This will have to do.

Let’s get one thing straight: I’m not calling her out, not accusing her, not trying to bring her to justice or salvation or whatever I would be doing if I made her witchiness public. So I haven’t called any church elders; I haven’t been in contact with a witch hunter. Nor have I forbidden her from cleaning the house using magic. I’m quite happy, being married to a witch. It’s very nice.

I joked about the house cleaning but from what I’ve gathered witchcraft doesn’t work that way, cast a quick spell and the house is clean or transformed into a castle. That would be a good trick, of course, but that would be more of a Jeannie sort of thing. Witches are more subtle than that. They don’t make things happen as much as they smooth the path that leads wherever they want to go. They can help or hinder.

I’ve seen a few weird things but you never know with undocumented visual evidence. Maybe I was seeing things. It’s not a big part of my case, anyway. But I have seen some weirdnesses.

Although I live with her, I can’t claim to know everything she does magically. All I can attest to is what I’ve witnessed, what I’ve seen, heard and felt.

I’ve never seen anything float, blink into or out of existence, talk or transform. Just to be clear, there haven’t been any parlor tricks, no stage-type magic, no bright balls of light and big bangs. Nor does she ever wave a wand. I don’t even think she has one.

What I have seen, let’s say, that proves she is a witch, has been her success. It seems like luck is always on her side. She can do things that I’m not sure she should be able to do, things I know I couldn’t do. She can foresee the future, too often for it to be mere coincidence; she always seems to make lucky guesses, always has the right cards, so to speak. She knows things, things she shouldn’t be able to know, like who’s going to win or what exactly I’m thinking. She talks to animals and plants and clay and food. I think they listen to her. And I’ve never heard any voices but I suspect they respond. Stuff goes on that I really don’t get.

Going back to the beginning of our relationship, I think being a witch made my wife an incredible photography model, the best I’ve ever worked with. I still get inquiries about some of the photos we took and we didn’t take that many. Weirdest session I have ever had, both of them, but the pictures worked out in a way that only a witch can arrange. That’s my theory, anyway.

Being a witch certainly made her a superb business manager. Compared to me, no question. When we met, I was pretty much floundering, trying to get enough work to get enough cash to get my business started. I barely made rent, sometimes.

Back then, I would bug guys for weeks trying to get work. They’d usually tell me they’d find something for me but not now, later and later rarely came. Sadly, that’s how I got most of my work, bugging friends and friends of friends and people I met at the bar until someone gave me a job, taking pictures, doing design work, arrangements, junk like that.

Pushing so hard, my popularity, never my strongest suit, started really crumbling. Friends didn’t answer calls, stopped answering my emails, started to avoid me altogether because they knew I’d have to say what I had to say, that I’d ask them for work and they’d have to say no.

Even so, I did all right, most of the time, but I wasn’t getting ahead. I started having doubts about my career choice, considered getting a suit job somewhere. I might have given up. I was getting desperate. Then I met a witch.

When she was in charge, she’d call some guy up and hand me three jobs. Then she’d call another guy and I’d have five more. In the first week, she arranged more work than I had found in six months. There was hardly enough time to do it all. She kept me on track. I started to get ahead.

Then she started dropping names and talking about pie-in-the-sky business hook-ups, million-dollar accounts and late-night deals where all we’d have to do is cash the checks. I thought she was getting happy and just dreaming out loud until she started bringing in the accounts, the deals, the checks. She knows her witchy business.

After a while, the grind of production started wearing me thin, so I told her that I wanted to change our direction, take me out of the trenches and start letting me provide the visions. Two weeks later, I had a new office and a whole new game plan. It was like she snapped her fingers and made it all happen. I didn’t even struggle with the transition. She told me what I needed to know, where to be and what to do. I paid close attention, did as I was told and the inevitable victory was won.

With a witch, success is just business as usual. When obstacles arose, she took care of them. I can’t swear there was magic involved but the way our troubles vanished was clearly incredible. Our deliveries were on time and our competition invariably failed. Her grasp of the details was nearly perfect. I don’t remember her ever missing a trick. Unbelievable, really. Fantastic. Supernatural.

As a wife, as a friend, as a lover, a witch is where it’s at. She knows me and knows my needs and desires. She knows what to say. She knows how close I want her to be. She guides me through life casually, sweetly, delightfully. Every day is a pleasure.

Am I spell-bound? Am I under her control, voodoo hexed and enslaved? Am I happy because she has cast a spell that makes me happy? Am I her minion, her human familiar? Do I have any free will at all?

I’m sure I’ll never know. But I don’t mind.

Having said all of that, I feel a bit stupid, saying my wife has magic powers. I’m not a child, reading wizard novels about fairy tales and fantastical elf-lore. I don’t even like that stuff, really. Some of it, maybe, I mean, I’ve watched the movies but I don’t take it seriously. I keep my feet on the ground.

I don’t know if I’ve seen ghosts but I have felt some creepy paranormal stuff, energy and cold and unexplained noises while hanging out with friends in abandoned buildings when we were younger. A few times, we did the whole nine yards, dressed in robes and summoning spirits, waiting in the dark for EVPs and someone getting scratched. We’ve all had supernatural experiences. It’s not that weird. The world is full of dark energies.

And witches, apparently.

I know what most people know about paranormal stuff, the occult, hauntings, vampires, wizards, all that stuff. I watch the shows, see the movies. Some of it seems cool but most of it’s just for fun. I’d never really given it any thought. I never really thought it would impact my life.

When I think about it, though, apart from your basic Halloween witch decorations, I didn’t know that much about witches when this started. It wasn’t even a question I thought to ask, no more than I’d ask about mummies. Werewolves are cool. I wonder about them.

So, when I was still taking the pictures, I used to work with this young woman sometimes. She was like my assistant on big jobs. I didn’t really know her that well but after a few jobs together, she told me that she was a real live modern day witch. I made some stupid jokes which I could tell annoyed her but then she told me lots of stuff I never knew about witches.

Actually, she said my wife was a witch. She was the first to say so and the only person since. She didn’t help me when I took the witch pictures but I’m pretty sure she’d seen them. The first time she met my wife, after my wife left, she told me that my wife was a really a witch too. I asked her how she knew and she told me.

Witches are people of the old religion. They come in every shape and size and nationality and walk of life. They are connected to nature in ways that the rest of us aren’t. They can do things, they know things, they can see things and foresee things. You may never know when a witch is right next to you, even though you see them every day.

What you will see, if you watch carefully, is an inner peace, a connectedness, a serenity that controls the world rushing in chaos around her. The energies she commands glides her though life, like a melody, like a summer breeze, like a rainbow on the wing. She may whisper and mumble, she may wave her hands and unfocus her eyes while you are talking to her, but she’ll know exactly what you mean and precisely what is really going on. Witch life is a style, a power, a production.

On those wings, we keep soaring higher.

After that talk with my assistant, I watched more movies, shows, stuff like that, too, to learn about witches. They have an interesting culture.

My wife owns an assortment of things any witch would have; there is no disputing that. But other women I have known have had the same kind of witchy things in their homes and I don’t think they were witches at all. Crystals and Celtic designs and Tarot cards and spirit bowls and incense and candles. What woman doesn’t have candles? I don’t think we can conclude anything from objects alone.

She has most of those things on a shelf. I call it her witch shelf. She never responds when I say things like that, like it isn’t worth responding to. Because it’s true or because it’s ridiculous, I’ll probably never know. I’ve tried to talk to her about being a witch but she either walks away, changes the subject or makes a joke out of it. I don’t know what that means but I am convinced that she will not talk about it.

There are other things she has on her witch shelf that are more damning, like the witch books. They aren’t very good reads, lots of circles and affirmations and goddess talk that goes round and round in, well, circles. She said they are research but I don’t know what she’s doing research for. Having them on the shelf is not conclusive that she is a witch but it is evidence. Church ladies don’t have witch stuff on display.

Lots of popular culture shows witches hanging out in groups, stirring cauldrons and dancing in the moonlight. I don’t think my wife goes in for that kind of witchery. I mean, I don’t think she really spends any time hanging out with other witches.

Not that I’m aware of, anyway. I suppose she might be turning into a rabbit and hopping off for a coven meeting after I go to sleep. They say witches sometimes transform into animals so that they can do mischief without the limitations of human form. Or they fly on brooms. Lots of witch stuff is supposed to happen at night. I wouldn’t think I would miss her going out but I do sleep pretty soundly. And she may be casting sleep spells on me. Who knows?

But, seriously, she doesn’t have any friends like that, wearing witchy symbols or talking witch talk. She’s more of a loner. I’m pretty sure they have loner witches. That’s probably a thing.

So it’s not the company she keeps that makes me think she is a witch. It’s the way she behaves, some of the weird stuff I’ve witnessed and our continuing successes that make me believe in her witchness. I guess I don’t really have any proof. Maybe she isn’t a witch. But it sure seems like she is.

Of course, its not all about the good stuff that has happened since we got together. There have been times when it frightens me. I don’t mean that she has caused me fear but thinking about her being a witch has scared me. I don’t know. I suppose she scares me. In a good way.

She’s always been good to me but I’ve been careful to stay on her good side. Her goodwill has always been important to me, because, if I’m being honest, I’ve always been a bit afraid of her. I sort of did that instinctively, from the beginning. I knew from the very start that I did not want her mad at me. It wasn’t anything she said or did. There wasn’t any violence in her behavior or even in her language. She was always kind of sweet when I was around anyway. But I glimpsed her power, I guess. I felt the force of her psychic energy. I could feel the cold push of her intense will. After an hour, I’d seen enough to keep me subdued and obedient. I fear her lovingly.

But I’ve also done business with her, watched her deal with people who did not please her. She can be very forceful when she needs to get her way and some people are foolish enough to stand in her way. There are usually two phases of her anger, when this happens. First I suspect that she causes them pain in ways that never quite come back on her. Then she foretells a terrible future for them. And it happens. I’m not kidding. People are ruined, broken, disgraced, ostracized. They get sick and die. I mean, I don’t know if she cast a spell and made them die but she did predict their demise. She tells me when deals are going to fall apart, when companies are going to collapse, when partnerships are doomed and she’s always right. It’s spooky. And scary.

Actually, to be safe, I long ago adopted the attitude that she’s always right. It seems like the best approach to life with a witch. Do what I’m told and enjoy the benefits. And it’s worked, so I’m sticking with it. I’m doing too well to jeopardize this gravy train of happiness. Besides, she is always right.

I haven’t mentioned writing this book to her. I hope she doesn’t mind.

#nanowrimo #writeblr #novel #fiction #writing #mine #Lord Malinov #Witch

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crimsonandclover-kataclysm · 7 years

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Chapter 3- Get yourself together, boy

Crimson and Clover- Read on Ao3

Chapter 3- Read on Ao3

February, 1985. Hawkins, Indiana

Jane was the first to notice the flicker.

Since having been adopted by Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, Jane became more acclimated to routine and structure. She actually felt comfortable enough to begin school in the second semester, as long as she worked with a tutor twice a week to make up for lost time. Learning was something she really enjoyed, and it felt good to her knowing that the more she studied, the more she’d be able to communicate and relate to the people around her. Mike would even help her study two more times per week, which she considered pretty close to tutoring. He seemed to understand how to phrase things in ways she would understand. She was a quick learner though, and in a few short weeks, she was reading and writing basic sentences, doing simple arithmetic, and even starting to recall a few dates from her history lessons.

It felt like after years of having nothing to hold on to, Jane had a family in Jim, her mom, and her aunt (who she and Hopper visited every weekend), she had a consistent schedule in school, and she had a small group of friends who had only just stopped accidentally calling her “El”. She preferred Jane- it connected her to an identity she had missed. Jane even worked her way to speaking terms with Max, who no longer paid much attention to Mike outside of the party. And all of this was happening under the guise of Hopper adopting a feral kid from Missouri. No one seemed to question what went on in Missouri.

Jane had been leaving her Thursday tutoring session after school when she saw it. Waving goodbye to Jeannie, she threw her backpack over her shoulder and headed toward the gym to meet Mike behind the school. As she made her way up the short flight of stairs, to her right was the wall she broke through nearly a year and a half before. She stopped to look at the repainted paw print when something in her stilled. The fluorescent lighting above flickering on and off. Her eyes shot up, and she took a few deep breaths to steady herself before adjusting the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. When the high schooler that helped out in the gym passed her with a quizzical look on her face, Jane shook her head, shot her a quick smile, and continued walking.

Billy could not stop thinking about Diana Miller. Since their all-too-brief encounter in front of his house, he had been thinking about her everywhere he went. Even at times he probably shouldn’t have been. Billy never entered a room without scanning to find the strongest person already standing in it. Now, he couldn’t help himself from scanning every room he entered for Diana. Di, they called her. He hadn’t gleaned too much from passing conversations with people about the girl, which was unfortunate because he had to be careful not to seem too interested… even though he was.

He knew she lived with her mom, and he would frequently see her outside of the middle school. One day, Max had revealed to him that she was a teaching assistant for the gym coach, and he began to notice her name on track and swimming trophies in the showcases outside of the high school gym. He also knew from classes that she was a good student who seemed to stay out of trouble. Though he saw her talking to nearly everyone in the school, he very rarely actually heard her say anything. She stood tall and proud though, which communicated enough, and he liked that she didn’t seem scared of him.

Most people were at the very least intimidated by Billy Hargrove, and he was not at all shy of the fact that he was the shiny new toy at Hawkins High School. Really, he milked it. And most people paid attention. The girls were drawn to his tight-fitting jeans like moth to a flame- that’s why he wore them, after all- and the boys needed an Alpha. Billy always could detect a leadership vacuum. Hell, he lived in one. However, with her volatile temperament toward him, he had something to contend with in Diana Miller, and he craved it.

Despite craving the challenge she posed, he also hated it. Since leaving California, he felt that he had nothing to look forward to. Hawkins was undoubtably boring- even all the residents said that “nothing happens in this town”. Sitting on the ground in Los Angeles was more interesting than anything that was available to do in Hawkins. So Billy was annoyed to his limits that there was something that actually made him like the shit town a little bit more. Diana Miller was that something.

At points, he had the inkling that Max might have been catching on. She was mentioning Di more in their car rides home from school, and he even heard her talking to Susan about how she had heard that the Miller girl was an excellent babysitter, and that Max really wanted Diana’s advice on her form in soccer. Which is why when Billy and Max were stuck behind Diana riding her bike on the road on their way to school one morning, Billy made a show about edging up on her and revving his engine. Upon hearing the car behind her, Di turned her head, saw Billy, and groaned. She was not about to let him act like a child, so she immediately slowed her pedaling, shifting toward the center of the lane. Knowing full well that there were cars coming the opposite way and that he would not be able to get around her. Billy's face reddened, and he let out a huff as he slammed his head against the seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max’s lips stretch into a repressed smile, and when the road was clear, he gunned it past Diana, who threw her middle finger up in protest, making eye contact with both of them through his window. When she saw Max, she waved, which Max returned happily, but when they had passed, Billy saw through the rearview mirror that Diana had stuck her tongue out at him petulantly. “Jackass,” he muttered, wearing an expression that Max took as him being amused.

Although they shared multiple classes together, Billy had yet to acknowledge Diana at school. He had begun to watch her though. In the hallway, partway through class, walking to lunch. It was as if he had some form of tracker on her- he was always aware of where she was in relation to him. It pissed him off.

Basketball practice was a relief, however even that was about to end. He liked being able to just be physical for a cause. It was a language he spoke well. Especially when teamed up against Steve Harrington, who he had yet to forget about seeing with Diana. Billy didn’t hate Steve, Billy just hated what Steve represented. In fact, Billy rather liked Steve, appreciating the aloof nature that caused him to rise to the top of the gene cesspool of Hawkins. But Steve was small town, a big fish in a small pond. And Billy had to learn how to be a big fish in a big pond in Venice Beach, so Steve’s easy cool and big hair frustrated him. He usually took it out on Steve in practice by taunting and jeering, but he decided that today I’m just going to kick his ass. And he did. Billy didn’t hold back, and by the end of practice, Steve was a winded mess of deflated hair and unresolved aggression.

In the locker room after practice, Steve was visibly annoyed, and Billy challenged him with a smug smirk. Steve took the bait. “So, got your eyes on Di Miller, huh?” Billy’s eyes narrowed, and without responding, he headed into the shower area. Steve followed him in, not relenting. “You know, she’s definitely way above your standards. Finally shooting for something with more than a pulse?”

The hot water was running down his back, soothing the muscles from the aggressive practice, but that wasn’t the reason for Billy’s rising temperature. Choosing to take Steve’s jabs in stride, he shot him a shit-eating grin. “I know, right? Have you seen these girls though? Not much to choose from.”

Steve ignored him. “Pretty smart of you, getting your sister to ask Di for help after school for soccer tryouts. That was your idea, right?”

Di was helping Max prep for tryouts? Billy’s mind raced. He didn’t like that Steve knew that information and he didn’t, but he almost felt a small swell of pride for Max in her efforts. There was no way that he could let Steve have the last word - he had let Steve Harrington say damn well enough today already - so he settled for the low blow. “And how are things going between you and the princess again? Maybe I’ll go after her since you clearly weren’t enough to keep her satisfied.” Billy had won. Steve ground his teeth, and his hand formed a fist - as if he were contemplating punching Billy. But on second thought, with the still recent memory of the blunt pain of Billy’s rings hitting his face at the Byers’, Steve forced himself to relax and didn’t say another word as he left Billy standing under the steaming shower.

Billy was curious. Steve’s words about Max and Di still ricocheting in his head, he parked close to the gym doors of the middle school. Seeing the door was slightly propped open, he entered quietly, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. A smile crept over his face as he scanned the gym class- he wanted to be discreet, so he made sure to come before the end of the school day. He spotted her almost immediately, working with a group of girls on running drills across the width of the gym, counting himself lucky that there was a group of boys playing basketball between them. The second thing he noticed was that curly-headed kid Dustin tapping Sinclair on the arm, his jaw hanging low and eyes trained on Billy. Internally finding the humor in Lucas' mouthed "oh shit" at the sight of him. Lucas' eyes flickering between Billy and Max, Billy placed his finger against his lips in a silent show of secrecy. Lucas and Dustin both nodded frantically, signaling their friends to return to their game.

Di was leading passing drills, staggering three pairs across the gym to pass and receive the ball. He watched her coach them on technique with that same slight smile on his face. Her back was to him, and his eyes wandered over her figure. Dark hair tied up into a ponytail at the crown of her head. The sleeves of her sweatshirt pulled above her elbows, hands above her hips. Her feet planted in a wide second stance. His gaze lingered low- those leggings were doing her all kinds of favors.

Max was in the last pair, and although he was aware that she was at least a little athletic, he was impressed at her speed and coordination. Neither had noticed him yet, so he stayed where he was, even after the gym class had ended. When they switched to one on one shooting drills, he nearly had a heart attack watching Di demonstrate with the coach. They had changed orientation so that they were running length-wise down the gym, and Max had finally seen Billy. He wasn’t paying her any attention though- his focus was on the girl running straight toward him. The blue of her eyes caught against the blushed red of her cheeks, her body lean, strong, and fast as she dodged her coach. She halted at the free throw line, tucking her toe under the soccer ball and sending it flying toward Billy. Max watched his eyes widen as the ball made contact with his stomach, his breath releasing in a loud “oof!” and his arms wrapping around the ball. Max was grinning and was not at all worried about his reaction. Not that she had anything to worry about. Billy was too focused on Diana.

Diana beamed a cheeky smile at Billy, and despite the wind just returning to his lungs, he quirked his eyebrows and sent a smirk back, tossing the ball back into her arms. She turned around to head back to the girls, and his gaze shifted once again to those leggings. He had the thought that he should personally thank whoever made those leggings - purely for the effect they had on him. And it wasn’t just the leggings, it was all of Diana.

He could count on one hand the number of times he had experienced true regret, but he definitely was kicking himself now for not having noticed Diana Miller before. He had been missing out on her. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise though - because honestly, he’d never stop noticing her now. His body wouldn’t allow it. Although, he wasn’t sure that he trusted his body anymore considering its current reaction to her flushed cheeks, long legs, and blue eyes - a reaction that probably wasn’t too appropriate in a gym full of middle school girls. And in jeans as tight as his, he had to be especially careful. As soon as he could force himself to move, he ducked out of the gym doors and headed straight to his car to cool the hell down before Max got done.

Max charged through the gym door with the echo of a laugh on her face, smiling even wider when she saw Billy. Unclear as to whether or not she was actually looking at him, his eyebrows shot up in awe when she spoke excitedly, “Di could not stop smiling after you- how did you know to come? Do you li-” Catching herself from being too amicable as she saw the look of shock on his face, she slowed down her pace and allowed her expression to falter, assuming nonchalance. With a quick jerk of his head toward the car, Billy and Max both slammed the doors behind them. Billy hadn’t turned on the car yet. Billy’s focus locked onto Max, voice quiet, he spoke.

“You didn’t tell me you had shit after school,” the timbre of his voice calm and low. But not angry, Max noted. “Everyday?” Max thought on Billy's words- Was he thinking about coming to the gym again? Did he like Diana? Obviously, making an appearance in the gym showed some sort of curiosity from him; though she wondered how he found out about her asking Di for extra help. Then again, she wasn’t really all that surprised- sometimes Billy just knew things.

She considered briefly if he knew that Diana had an effect on him that Max liked: ruffling her hair rather than threatening her, smirking rather than scowling, and conversing rather than shouting. If Billy had known her intentions, would he have been playing into them so easily? Or did he even realize yet that he liked Diana? Questions raced through Max’s mind as she fixed her gaze on a small spot on the windshield, and she felt Billy’s resignation from her silence as he sighed, turning the keys in the ignition. “Whatever,” he mumbled. “You have shit form anyway.” Max turned to the passenger window with a small smirk on her face.

Aside from the dull pulse of Van Halen coursing through the speakers, the near silent atmosphere of the car annoyed Billy. He had questions for Max that he had no desire to ask (Discussing girls with Max? That was a can of worms that could be left unopened), and even so, he thought the answers might have been unwelcome. So he kept his mouth shut and kept driving. When they arrived at the house, he noted that his father’s car was not around and breathed a sigh of relief, not acknowledging Max as he beat her to the door, leaving the tension of the almost conversation in his car.

Storming through the house to his room, Billy passed Susan, Max’s mother. He didn’t pay her much attention except for a quick nod, but out of the corner of his eye, he could see her regarding him closely. Nothing inside of him wanted to stay to find out what that was about, so he hurried to the back of the house to the only place that felt like it was his. Billy’s room wasn’t much, and he was aware of that. He had minimal decor that included a small vanity fashioned from old crates and a mirror propped against the wall. Aside from a few risqué posters taped up deliberately, there wasn’t much evidence that a teenage boy occupied the room. Billy liked to keep what few things he had in his room put away. He hated clutter, which was fine because you had to have stuff to have clutter, and frankly, he didn’t have much at all. Just some cologne, a crumpled pack of cigarettes, and a few stray earrings sat on the vanity top to show that Billy really did live there. HIs bed was made with hard edges- the only warmth existed in the makeshift nightstand on the other side. More crates stacked with the open sides facing toward the bed revealing a load of books stuffed however they would go, and an excess even stacked on top.

A small knock resonated on his door as he shook off his denim jacket from his shoulders. Susan, slight in stature, peeked around the door frame. With Billy making no immediate protestations to her presence, she took advantage of the opportunity to slip into his room, taking a seat on the very corner of his bed. She perched carefully, almost like a small and timid bird, so delicately that he hoped she might just slip off of it. “Your father and I are going out Friday night,” she started as she looked up at Billy expectantly. She was only met with another brief nod as he rolled his lips between his teeth in frustration, anger brewing in his chest that he had to give up yet another night to watch Max. That bitch is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She proved that at the Byers’, he thought bitterly. “But I was thinking,” Susan patted the spot on the bed next to her, motioning for him to sit. Without conscious effort, he obeyed, mentally kicking himself for being so compliant. “You’re a good boy, Billy.” If only she knew. “You’ve been doing so well at keeping an eye out for Maxine,” Susan was waffling, and Billy knew it. He didn’t like her motherly tone- she was absolutely not his mother- and he thought he should have interrupted, sent her out, been rude. But he wasn’t and he didn’t; he only looked away. Her hand tapped his face gently as she pulled him to look at her. She looked sincere. “You’re a good looking boy- you should go out. I remember being a kid, and everyone deserves some time to blow off steam. Enjoy yourself. I’ll ask that Miller girl down the road to watch Max.” Billy’s brow furrowed in confusion as he registered her meaning and what she was offering to him, but in the back of his mind, his father’s voice rang out sharply about responsibility and respect. “There’s no need for him to know. This can be our little secret.”

Diana Miller felt tired all the time. She had classes and work at school, training and work at the gym, and work and sleep at home. But occasionally, she had a moment where she could lay across her designated armchair in her living room and watch a minute of television, or if she wasn’t totally braindead, read a bit of a nice book. On this specific Tuesday afternoon, her water aerobics class had been canceled due to a conflicting community Bingo night, so she was sprawled across the plush cushions with Of Love and Shadows in hand, avoiding any other obligation. Sandra was pulling a personal training shift at the gym, so Di had fixed herself a nacho dinner out of some leftover sloppy joe meat and Ruffles chips and was balancing her plate on her stomach as she read intently. She was picking at some rogue sloppy joe meat that had fallen from a chip onto the heather gray material of her sweatpants when she jumped at the ringing of the doorbell, dropping her book as her hands went immediately to protect her food and catch her plate. Setting it on the seat cushion, she jogged over to the door, straightening out her t-shirt and grimacing at her reflection in the mirror.

Her gaze shifted down as she pulled the door open to reveal Max standing awkwardly with her hands behind her back and her bottom lip pulled beneath her teeth. Maybe it was just that she was Max’s teacher and felt a sort of maternal bond to her, but Di immediately straightened, looking around as an overprotective sister might. Max smiled, “Hey, Miller.”

Ushering Max inside her house, Di looked at the redhead warily, “Is everything okay?” Motioning for Max to take a seat on the couch, Di planted herself right beside her, sinking into the arm as she faced the girl who looked almost nervous across from her.

“Are you busy Friday night?” Di was eyeing her suspiciously as she posed the question rather bluntly. Max’s gaze shifted to the armchair with the nachos and she shuffled uncomfortably in the couch cushions. Glancing around the warm wood-trimmed living room and noticing the pictures of Di and who she could only presume was Mrs. Miller hung around the room with artistic pictures of various landscapes littered in between. Ceramic artifacts and whittled wood sculptures had been mounted on the walls causing the house to have an eclectic and exotic feel to it. Max wasn’t really surprised seeing all of the various souvenirs having heard a little from Diana about her travels with her mother. She was the only person in Hawkins who Max could talk to about California… who would understand why Max missed it like she did. Except for perhaps Billy, but Billy didn’t talk to Max about much.

Diana hadn’t answered, still scrutinizing Max, so Max continued, “It’s just, my mom and stepdad are going out and I was hoping you could come over and help me with soccer stuff again. I don’t know that I can stay after school anymore this week.” Diana thought to Billy and wondered if it was his fault that Max wouldn’t be returning, that protective nature taking over again as her fist clenched white at her side.

When she realized how irrational her anger was, she relaxed her hand and smiled softly at Max. “Friday night is perfect.” Max shot off the couch, engulfing her in a hug as Di let out a soft “oof” and a string of giggles at the force of it. As she realized how abrupt her gesture was, Max began to laugh as well, and she fell backward onto the seat cushions, splaying her arms out wide. Di cleared her throat before walking over to her armchair and offering Max a nacho.

“This is disgusting,” Max eyed the smothered Ruffles chip cautiously before stuffing it in her mouth.

Gyms stink- this was a fact that Diana was always privy to. However, she was taking special note having experienced full class loads of sweaty teenagers running laps around it. Something about the air that didn’t circulate properly combined with the multitudes of thirteen year olds that had not yet discovered the wonders of deodorant and anti-perspirant made for a winning combination that had Diana attempting to discreetly cover her nose with her wrist while also correcting sprint form.

“Dustin, straighten your back, please,” she called through the material of her blouse. He smiled a toothy grin and gave her a thumbs up before continuing his sprint, his somewhat aligned spine eventually crumpling into a hunch again, arms swinging erratically at his sides. Coach Hart was on the other side of the gym, barking similar instructions, and Diana noticed that she had propped the door to the outside open as a chance for the room to air out. Amused when students in their gym shorts and t-shirts would actively avoid running in front of the door, hugging themselves for warmth, she stifled a giggle as Hart made eye contact with her and fanned her hand in front of her face. Di was still mostly enjoying her time working with the eighth grade gym class, though she couldn’t admit to the smell being her favorite. However, she did have to drop a couple of her other obligations due to her school work beginning to falter. She hadn’t seen her friends outside of brief conversations in the hallways during school. No more late nights covering the lifeguard post at the community center, and she had to turn down a couple of weeknight babysitting gigs. Sandra had mentioned they were in a good spot financially though- that they should be able to afford the down payment on the Jeep come April- but that had meant less nights with Sandra as she had been pulling so many extra shifts. Diana had been so tired one morning that she almost fell asleep biking to school; she couldn’t imagine how her mother was doing it. Missy may have compared Di to Wonder Woman, but Diana could only view Sandra as a superhero.

As she saw the ginger hair pulled into a long ponytail resembling her own, Di’s focus shifted to Max and she smiled. The eighth grader picked up her pace as she passed, feigning kicking a soccer ball when she reached the corner. The gym classes had been fairly uneventful since Monday afternoon when Billy Hargrove made his appearance. In fact, Di had been expecting Steve to drop by Wednesday like usual, yet he was nowhere to be found. Diana tried to stay after with Dustin to find out why, but even he made a clean getaway straight after class. Although she enjoyed her chats with Steve, she wasn’t too broken up about not seeing him. Somehow her slight encounter with Billy Hargrove was a reasonable replacement, and though she couldn’t say why, the shock on his face when her aim had met its target and body caved around the soccer ball had been replaying in her mind for the past four days.

It was strange thinking of Billy- she didn’t particularly know him that well, and what she did know of him, she shouldn’t really like. But he had those stupid curls and that smirk that hit her like a blow to the stomach. Plus there was the matter of her spending an extended amount of time in his house in just a few short hours. She would have just enough time for a run and a shower after school to get there after 6 o’clock, and she hoped that would be the cure for whatever was going on inside her head. Maybe a little fresh air would help her clear her mind before facing the lion’s den.

Max let Diana in exactly at 6:45. She had made it very clear that Diana was not to come before then as to avoid Neil, so Di kept watch from her house until she was sure that there was no chance of her running into the adults. Walking into the Hargrove household, the first thing Diana noticed was the sparing use of furniture. Modestly decorated, only the basics were on display- a simply upholstered couch and a couple of chairs set around the walls of the room. The green mantle held a large jar of seashells, a lamp, and a vase of flowers with small framed photographs placed in between. Taking a step forward, Diana picked up one of the frames observing swimsuit-clad Billy and Max standing against what must have been the California shoreline, each holding their own surfboards and Billy’s arm strewn around Max’s shoulders. Max had been laughing, eyes set in squints that were focused on Billy, whose stark-white teeth were fully bared in a smile that seemed to break his whole face. It looked to be a nice memory.

The second thing Diana spotted was the exercise equipment positioned in careful right angles in the corner of the den closest to the living room. A grin crept across her face at the sight of the bench and barbell, twenty-five pound weights with ten pound ends on each side, and she was a little ashamed to admit that her interest was piqued with the thought of Billy benching that much. The television and stand sat diagonally in the corner, an open beer can on the ledge. Max cleared her throat, snapping Di out of her stupor, “Billy works out a lot.”

Diana’s eyes shot over to Max, and she smiled widely. “You know, we can totally use this stuff to train. Weights are just as important as cardio and drills.” She ran her fingertips over the bar- Diana spent most of her time around equipment but didn’t have any at home, and she was a little envious.

Shaking her head, Max spoke at a low volume, nodding her head towards the back of the house, “He doesn’t let anyone else touch it.” Diana had been so busy noticing all of the details of the house that she hadn’t heard the accompanying soundtrack. Following the bass line, she was able to gather that Billy Squier’s “The Stroke” was resonating from where Max had gestured, alerting her to Billy’s presence. She hadn’t realized that Billy would still be at the house, and a wave of something she couldn’t place washed over her. Nerves.

Max had already disappeared into what Diana presumed to be the kitchen when the music shut off and a door opened and closed immediately afterward. The boy in question walked through, shrugging a well-worn brown leather jacket over the shoulders of his powder blue button down (to be fair, calling it a button down was a bit generous considering Diana could see Billy’s torso all the way down the defined ridges of his abs). He stopped cold, seeing Diana Miller standing next to the only other area in the house that felt like it belonged to him. Eyes traveling over the length of her, he said a silent thank you that she was wearing those leggings again, a loose cable-knit sweater draped over her torso. As his gaze made its way back up to her face, he pulled his collar up flush against his neck, locking eyes with her for the first time that night. “Diana Miller,” he said smoothly, pulling his lips between his teeth. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Despite soft curls fanning his wow clean-shaven face and the sharp blue of his eyes punctuated by the combination of tan skin and pale blue fabric, Diana had no intention of letting Billy Hargrove know she was transfixed. “Someone has to take care of Max while you do… whatever it is you do.” He let out something in between a breath and a laugh, taking a step closer to her. She caught a whiff of him then. “God, Hargrove, cool it on the cologne. What did you do? Take a bath in it?”

“Thinking about me in the bath, huh?” Smugly, he ran his tongue over his teeth, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and extracting one. Lighter already in his hand, he held the cig between his lips, lighting it swiftly and tucking both packet and lighter away. How they fit in his jean pockets, Di had no idea.

Her reply came not a second after. “Yeah, drowning,” she scoffed. Apparently her feet were working of their own accord though because she found herself taking two steps closer to him. Blood rushed to her cheeks when a full, fiery smile worked its way over Billy’s face.

“Bathroom’s three doors down to the right if you need a cool down, Miller.” Maintaining eye contact, he took a long drag from the cigarette before pulling it from his lips and letting his head hang back as he exhaled. With a quirk of his eyebrow, he walked quickly out of the room, for a second hoping that his date might be wearing leggings too.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x ofc #dacre montgomery

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 4 years

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Following the death of Nathan Summers, the Quiet Council of Krakoa convened to discuss the incident. Shortly after the start of the session the younger Nathan Summers arrived and announced that he had killed his future self due to his failure to return the time displaced original X-Men to their own timeline. What followed was a debate about how to proceed, especially when lives were at risk.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

ERIK: “Alright everyone, let’s settle in.” The mutants gathered in the room before him had gathered but the room was buzzing with chatter. Erik’s voice rang out over them, and then he waited as the noise gradually quieted down. “As I am guessing most of you know by now, Cable aka Nathan Summers has been killed. We still do not know who or what is responsible--”

CABLE: “You know it’s rude to talk about someone behind their back, right?” Nate spoke up from where he lingered casually in the doorway. He had taken a few moments to listen but what he had to say was much more important in the long run. Taking a few steps in and letting the door close behind him, he waited a few seconds to let the room get their bearings and focus in. “Nah, I’m teasing. I know you’re talking about the old Cable and not me-- and believe me, there’s a difference. The biggest one now being that I am alive and he’s dead, but that’s for the best. He wasn’t doing his job, and therefore he wasn’t useful anymore.” His eyes-- both glowing and not-- were glued to the floor in front of him as he walked. But when he stopped, Nate looked up and addressed the room as a whole. “You guys have no idea what mess you’re making. Old Cable let it go for far too long, and I’m on the verge of making that same mistake. But I won’t. And the first thing I scratched off the list was taking the older me out of the equation-- so you’re welcome. Now we need to talk. Specifically about how the young X-Men team being here is fucking over not only their older selves, but the timeline as a whole. So, are we all ready to figure this out?”

JIMMY: Jimmy was only invited as a courtesy and he had no real say in anything that was going on, which he understood, but it still pissed him the hell off. He was here for Jean and the rest of his team. He didn't want to just sit by as his friends and love were taken from him against their will. He first listened closely to Nate but his tone was too aggressive for Jimmy's taste and his eyes glared daggers at Nate. His jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white but he held his breath and didn't open his mouth.

EMMA: “Dear Lord.” Emma sighed, one gloved hand hovering over downcast eyes. The theatrics of it all were truly something. Moving to peer over steepled fingers, the blonde glanced from Nathan to his father and then back to the boy who had killed himself. “So what you’re saying, darling, is that instead of filing a formal complaint you’ve gone ahead and murdered yourself so that you could make a dramatic statement? These children have been here for half a decade. Why now the big acts? Don’t forget our laws: harm no man. I believe that applies to yourself as well.”

DOUG: "And at best it's suicide. Which isn't great." He replied from the bows of Krakoa. "And that's only with a sturdy case." He said as he grasped his chin with his cybernetic arm thinking over the semantics.

TIME-DISPLACED SCOTT: "We've already had this discussion." Scott followed Emma's words, his voice rising among the idle chatter. "Five years ago-" ten, if they were being technical, "We were in agreeance that we weren't going back, not after what we learned after getting here. You can't doom us to our fates and then just expect us to go willingly." Being herded into this room, the five of them -- the Original X-Men, Scott's suspicions grew, but there was no way Erik incited this. Still, he remained defensive.

JEAN: “He’s right.” Jean instantly reached out, hand grabbing Scott’s in solidarity for a moment before she realized what she had done and quickly dropped it. “You’re condemning me to death if I go back.” Sure, Jean was resurrected but that wasn’t the point. “You’re going to shove Bobby back in the closet, Scott becomes a megalomaniac and who the hell knows what happens to Warren and Hank is -- well, Hank is the exception here. The point is, we always said we wouldn’t go back and that hasn’t changed. I won’t do it.”

TIME-DISPLACED BOBBY: Bobby visibly deflated at Jean’s words and the implications of the entire scenario. His older counterpart placed a steady hand on the younger mutant’s shoulder in a subtle show of support, but the more Bobby thought about it, the less sense everything made. His head was spinning and he was teetering on the verge of a panic attack. No, not right now. That was the last thing they needed.

TIME-DISPLACED HANK: "Thank you?" Hank responded raising an eyebrow not entirely sure if he should take that as a compliment or being disregarded. "Regardless of what happened with the... Late Cable." He said uncomfortably. "Our situation was declared relatively different, no? That out being here wouldn't have such drastic effects on the timeline. That we're here to create a better future and avoid what you have created. We've made lives for ourselves here. Created relationships, formed bonds, and become an integral part of key events in the timeline, for better or worse we are he now. And by George, I intend to stay here by any means necessary until proper evidence is provided to me that we are doing more harm than good." He sounded like an old man again, dammit.

CABLE: “Wow, you’re funny.” Nate turned to Emma with a wide sarcastic smile. “Who exactly would I file a complaint to, huh? Myself? Well like I just said, the guy wasn’t doing his job so it falls to me. I’ve got no one else to turn to, and I know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on than any of you.” His words were slightly hostile, but it was out of frustration. He anticipated that there would be push back, but dealing with it wasn’t his strongest quality. He was more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. “Jean, listen--” he focused in on the young version of his mother and let out a sharp exhale. Then he turned to Hank. “I get why you’re concerned, but let’s look at the big picture here, okay? Do you know what’s been happening to the other team? My guess is you don’t, and my other guess is that they don’t either. My guess is that their heads are starting to get fuzzy. Things might be a bit harder to remember, their sense of self might be a little off. Isn’t that right guys? Think about it.” Nate glanced to the older X-Man team as he asked the question, eyebrows raised in anticipation as he let them ponder it for a moment. “That’s just the start. You want the fast version of this? Staying here is killing them. Plain and simple.”

KEVIN: “There’s plenty of X-Men to go around! What’s your point!” Kevin piped up from the back of the room, hands cupped around his mouth as he interjected before immediately pretending it wasn’t him that had just spoken. A stifled chuckle followed.

SCOTT: "Erasing us from history." Scott looked first at Nate, and then turned to look at his younger self. "Years ago we could handle it, but looks like time is up." He was oddly chilly in his demeanor, his lips drawing into a hard line. He understood where their past selves were coming from --- but with the nation of Krakoa, there were other things that were more important than the original x-men wanting to escape their destinies. "How do we send them back?"

DOUG: "Please remember this is the quiet council." He said directed towards where he heard the off the cuff remark.

EMMA: Reclining back in her chair, a brief kiss was blown towards the boy. “Thank you, darling, it’s why your father cheated on your mother with me. If you filed a complaint it would be with us. The Council. We have these lovely oversized chairs for a reason.” Her mouth froze, lips parted as her Rook ( who was more work than expected ) felt the need to interject himself. “But, believe it or not, I agree with Nathan and Scott. The kids have to go. It’s nothing personal, Jeannie. I’ve grown quite fond of you all.” That was directed at the younger Scott. “I can, however, hear the thoughts of your counterparts and they’re a jumbled mess. You’d think Jean would have something to say by now, wouldn’t you?” Although blue eyes attempted to meet green the older Jean kept her eyes trained down at the white surface of their table. “As I was saying,” Emma resumed. “I love a little danger but this has gone on for long enough. Five mutants don’t need to die so that five others can continue an extended field trip.”

HANK: Hank was dreading this. He had managed to connect the dots before it was pointed out by the more experienced time traveler. Between the muddled thoughts in the labs forgetting his passwords for the X-Force systems among countless other small particulars, it was all beginning to climax into a terrible finish. "Need we be so crass?" He interjected with some tension but mainly fatigue in his voice. "The situation is dismal, but let us not be so quick to give up hope. Star and garters, the amount of time we've faced death sentences and came out on top of them is unheard of." He said looking to his teammates for support. "However, that doesn't mean we aren't facing a problem. How to send them back is the easy part, from what I can imagine. I brought them here and I can most assuredly send them back." He locked eyes with his young counterpart. His flesh untainted from his own experience. The face he longed to have again through most of his life was staring back at him. "But I can't in good faith recreate it without knowing we've done all we can to mitigate damages and solve these problems."

ILLYANA: “It seems simple to me,” Illyana shrugged. “We defend Krakoa and mutants and they’re hurting the mutants.” That being said, she was still abstaining her honorary vote unless it was a tie-breaker. “It’s just memory problems so far?”

CHARLES: The telepath had been relatively quiet so far, just observing and taking everything in as well as attempting to sort through a cacophony of thoughts, but now seemed as good a time as any to speak up, “Perhaps—“ he addressed Illyana’s observation before speaking to the group in general, “But the situation is much more complicated than many of you seem to believe.”

CABLE: Nate scoffed. “What you guys have going here is nice and all but I answer only to myself. We’re all at least finally understanding what’s happening here-- yes, Dad. That’s exactly what’s happening.” He motioned to older Scott, giving him a nod and then standing up straight again. “Surprise surprise, I also have the means of getting them back. That’s not the problem. Getting them back will close the loop, and then we deal with any fallout after it’s done. Things are getting messy. Mini Warren got rid of his feathers and grown-up Jean is going to have a kid. And that means we have to start sorting everything out soon. Soon meaning now.”

LOGAN: “Wait, excuse me?” The words blurted out of Logan’s mouth before he had a chance to think about it. Brows furrowed heavily as he stared confusingly at Nate and then turned to Jean in a panic. “Are you really--?”

RACHEL: The redhead got up from her seat suddenly, disregarding the sudden moral crisis Logan had been thrust into, and moved to stand by her inter-dimensional sibling, “There’s only one logical answer to all this— and you’re looking at him,” Rachel may not have been given a vote, but she’d sure as hell make her opinion heard, “I don’t understand why this is so hard to decide. It’s your future’s we’re talking about.” Her gaze moved between the younger mutants before shifting to their older counterparts, “—and your presents.”

LAURA: One brow automatically arched as she glanced from the still silent Jean Grey to the way her father had instinctively reacted. In the words of Emma Frost - unfortunately - dear lord.

SCOTT: For a moment, Scott didn't hear what Nathan said, too focused on the discussion at hand to give any attention beyond the main point: the original X-Men needed to return to their time. "Then it's decided," As he spoke, he relayed Nathan's words back through his mind, a processing technique. The cogs began to turn, and Logan interrupted his speech just as he reached Nathan's concluding words. His expression was far more flat, half-hidden by the visor that covered his eyes, but his entire focus shifted. First to Logan. Then to Jean. He hated staring at her like this, dumbfounded and putting her on the spot, but he couldn't stop himself. No matter how much he tried to get back on topic, refocus, he couldn't pull his eyes away from her.

HANK: He turned to Jean with eyes wide. The first thing he wondered was who was the father but that was a question for later. "Mazel tov." He said before looking at the younger versions of themselves with a a saddened look. This complicated things. Now it wasn't just effecting them but another. A new budding life. While Jean had met many of her alternate reality offspring this would be the first of her own. "That's exactly why it's so hard to decide, Rachel. I look at the Hank before me. So young, undefeated and full of potential and I can't but hope he has a better life than I. Creates more than I did and becomes a better man than I am."

LORNA: “So, basically, we got called in here to have another Grey-Summers drama session with a dash of Wolverine, Ice-Man, Angel and Beast.” Lorna flashed a snarky smile. “I would have that saving the time stream would look less like an episode of Days of Our Lives.”

JIMMY: So, they want to send his girlfriend back in time so Logan can have a baby with her? That's some bullshit.

TIME-DISPLACED HANK: As his future self looked at him and said all that he saw in him he felt his tear-ducts begin to swell, but he fought it off. Since meeting his older self he has felt so insecure. That he was so behind in comparison to him. That he'd never amount to be someone like him no matter how hard he tried, but that's not how the older Hank saw it. Between that and the punch to the gut he felt from hearing Jean was also having pregnant made him feel all sorts of off kilter. Muttering to mainly Jean but also the rest of his team, "You're pregnant? I mean she's pregnant? Should we... Should we really be fighting this if that's the case?"

RACHEL: “And?” Rachel raised an eyebrow at the older Hank as the commotion regarding Jean’s news continued on, “Wouldn’t sending him back be the smartest option? He’d be back in his own time with the experience and knowledge that you’ve been able to provide for him while he was here, but with no further risk to your wellbeing.”

JEAN: It wasn’t supposed to come out like that. Jean had meant to tell them but it was hard when her mind kept feeling like it was turned inside out. Sometimes she forgot the day, other times where she was or what she had been doing. The worst of it came when a memory itself vanished, becoming a gaping hole where her history had slowly slipped away. It was because of Young Jean, they originally said. Her death had loosened Jean’s hold in time. She was going to slip away because not only was she without a past but because that past had gone and died, causing their connection to rupture ever so slightly. So, yes. Jean was pregnant. She could have told them at a better time but there was just a lot going on. Scott’s eyes were on her and Hank was talking and Logan was concerned and jesus, did she have to vomit. That wasn’t easy to hide. Her younger self was also staring and suddenly it was hot --- “ --I’m sorry.” Jean was on her feet and out of the room in a heartbeat, barely making it out the door and around the corner before emptying her stomach. The morning sickness had been getting worse and worse but it wasn’t an excuse to hide. Wiping at her face, Jean stood on shaky legs and made her way back into the chamber. “Sorry, again. Nate’s telling to the truth. I just wasn’t ready for all of this.” She waved a hand. “I've never wanted them to go back, but I have to ask what happens to us if they stay.”

HANK :"I think you're missing one key detail here Rachel. One of the reasons why this is so significant. If we send this back we'd have to erase their memories of their time here. Make them forget everything they've learned here, how they've grown, and the relationships they made so as to not cause excessive dissonance in the timeline after they try to alter history on such a scale."

TIME-DISPLACED SCOTT: The fight left him in a rush, deflating his sense of conviction and Scott struggled to find his voice. He couldn't look at Jean, not the Jean standing next to him, and not the Jean standing before him. He kept his eyes down for longer than a few heartbeats, trying to collect his thoughts. "It doesn't change the fact that we were pulled here, by you--" he looked up at the older Hank, his voice quieter but still holding strength. "to change him." he pointed at his older self, who was still looking at Jean. "To fix his mess. Well, if you didn't notice, I'm destined to turn out just like him and you can't expect me to just accept that." Scott was ignoring the news of Jean's pregnancy. That wasn't his Jean --- his Jean was standing right next to him, and in the moment, she was the only Jean he cared about.

BOBBY: Bobby rushed to the aid of his best friend, knowing full well how strong she was and that she’d be able to handle herself, but offering an arm for support nonetheless, “—guess we’ve got one more to worry about now,” Bobby let out a weak laugh, giving Jean a hopeful smile as he waited for someone else to take charge of the conversation. The direction they seemed to be headed didn’t feel entirely close to a valid solution and that frustrated the hell out of Bobby.

TIME-DISPLACED JEAN: “How could you not tell me?” The words fell out of Jean’s mouth, the hurt evident. This was them that she was talking about. Rachel and Nate were great but they were from an alternate reality and a clone respectively. Jean had never had any kids of her own and now that she was going to it was a reason to force her younger self away. Maybe it was because she was young that Jean could excuse her own selfishness. “You guys are all messes. Look at you. Beast tried to break time, we all know about Scott and you?” she turned to her older self. “You got knocked up at the worst possible time with a baby you don’t even know the father of. None of this is our fault so why should we have to suffer for it? Hank,” Jean’s shoulders fell as she looked to her teammate. She’d always known his feelings and it was wrong to try and leverage them, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. “Reason with them. Please.” Not a beg, but close.

SCOTT: "You don't know who the father is?" His words came out on their own volition, falling from his lips quietly. Like a murmur to himself. His eyes slid a glance towards Logan before Scott's resolve took over, and he just turned away from them both. Finally refocusing. In that moment, Jean's pregnancy fell within the parameters of the law, and nothing else. Any other matters would be discussed somewhere else. Not here. Not in front of everyone. "This isn't up for discussion." He said, words directed at the original x-men. "Hank made a bad call by bringing you here. Doesn't mean he was never supposed to rectify it."

EMMA: If she hadn’t already posed with her head in her hands Emma would have done so again. This was precisely why she never wanted children. They were either offing themselves to prove points or appearing in your womb at inopportune times. “Logan, be a dear and help Jeannie sit down.” Emma instructed gently. She looked pale and the last thing they needed was any more throw-up around. Scott was standing there looking stunned as if the entire Island didn’t know. She did feel for him in that moment. “You’re being dramatic, Jean,” she turned to the younger version. “And selfish. There will be a time in the future where you’ll have to face your younger self and you won’t like what you see. All level headed members are in agreeance. Charles? Erik?”

TIME-DISPLACED WARREN: Younger Warren wasn’t paying too much attention to what was just revealed about Jean. Instead, he was feeling defensive about his choice to get new wings. He folded them in closer to his body and crossed his arms, glancing around at his team to see if they had any reaction and finding that there were too many other things to focus on. His eyes wandered over to Laura, where they lingered as he thought about leaving and never seeing her again. He didn’t want his memories erased. He made changes so he wouldn’t follow the same path he had followed before and now that was all going to be erased. “I’m with Scott. Who cares that I got new wings, I didn’t do it just for the hell of it. Some of us have done things to make the future-- our future-- better. There’s gotta be a way we can keep that for ourselves.”

CABLE: Nate gave Rachel a small smile as she took a place next to him. He was used to doing things alone. But it was nice to have a reminder that he didn’t have to have the entire world at his throat all the time. Breaking the news of Jean’s pregnancy caused a bit of an uproar-- it wasn’t his fault that she hadn’t told anyone. They needed to know the facts, and that was one of the facts. “Good point Hank. Thank goodness you guys have a telepath on the team to make that whole process easier. Will you all just shut up!” He was getting more and more frustrated, and he echoed his father’s mentality. “This isn’t supposed to be a debate! I came here more as a courtesy to let you all know what has to be done. It’s not just your lives at risk. The timeline is going to frazzle apart and go in a direction I can’t see-- and that scares the hell out of me.”

CHARLES: Charles nodded in agreement, addressing the younger Cable with a tone of understanding, “I think we should allow Nate to continue to speak, disregarding present er— situations.” Forcing a polite smile Charles gestured to Jean at that.

HANK: This was turning into unbridled chaos and he was growing irritated and distressed by it. He was losing his track of thought with how to debate this, how to calm the situation and show their side of things as best as he possibly could, but then he hear Jean. Looking over to her, seeing the drop in her shoulders and the fear in her eyes he couldn't resist. This was the woman he fell in love with years ago. The woman that he wished for but never dared to say a thing, but he couldn't say no to her. Hank took off his glasses and slid them into his shirt pocket and stood from his seat. "Ahem!" He said clearing his throat as loudly as possible to attempt and silence the room in a respectful way. "With all do respect Scott." He said looking to the elder version. "This is entirely up for debate and in fact no decision has been made, so let's not speak in absolutes, yes? We have gathered here today not for a sentencing like my friends and I, or rather, your friends, comrades, and allies are some common criminal being excommunicated for wrong doings. We are undeniably innocent in all of this, victims of your own desires, squables and failures. As harsh as that may sound it is undeniably the truth. If we're going to hold a vote let us do it with educated voters, yes? Not charged by emotion or fear. So let's look at the facts. We have been here for years and have been significantly changed by the timeline and changed the timeline, which alone could damage the timeline, but in theory that could be remedied by putting in mental blocks. Although we've seen Jean's experience with overcoming them so who's to say that will fully work. Furthermore, Nathan. Your main point is on the timeline. You have far more experience in time travel than the rest of us here, that is a fact. However, have you done much research into time travel, learning its secrets and understanding ways to improve it or methods to help paradoxes through the use of technology, stabilizers, implants to prevent temporal memory slippage? If not, I suggest we attempt just that. Nate, Dr. McCoy, Forge, Doug Ramsey, myself and anyone else capable of the challenge can gather together and solve this problem like we - as x-men - have done countless times before."

LOGAN: Logan’s mind had gone practically blank after Nate revealed the news. He heard people talking, but his senses were just blank. Scott said something and it registered after the fact, and then Logan was gently steadying Jean as she made her way back over. “You alright?” His voice was almost as a whisper as he moved them over to the closest empty seat.

CABLE: “Are you seriously suggesting we sit around in a lab and do experiments while we lets things go to shit? You’re damn right I know more than the rest of you and that’s why you all should be listening to me!” Nate had finally snapped. “We don’t have time for votes, we don’t have time for any of this! Time travel has been the center of my entire life-- I know what I’m doing. And they’re going back as soon as the loose ends are tied up, including figuring out a way to get Warren some new wings.”

LAURA: Warren. The fact that her biggest reason the young X-Men to stay was a personal one should have been a sign to Laura that they needed to go. Her lack of a vote was surprisingly comfortable. At Cable’s words though, her brows furrowed. “You’re going to do what?”

JIMMY: Finally fed up to his feet and chimed in, rather aggressively at that, "Would you shut the fuck up, murder boy? God dammit! If your resolution to a problem is just blowing someones head to fucking kingdom come I ain't interested in shit you have to say! Throwin' the mother of all piss fits just because hanks making you feel like a dumbass for challenging you? Go to hell!"

JEAN: Scott’s silence was unnerving her. It was also strange that Emma of all people seemed to be trying to help, so she moved from Bobby’s arm with a thankful smile to Logan’s as he guided her back to her seat. “My son just announced to the world I was pregnant and my younger self outed me as not knowing who the father is. Which, I guess means we should talk.” And Scott too. Jean needed to talk to her husband. The law was make more mutants and she had Logan had never hidden it. She just hadn’t expected this. “I don’t know how to feel.” Jean paused, mind trying to go over everything. “Why’d we call this meeting again?”

CABLE: “You’re flying buddy is going to get an upgrade-- or downgrade, depending on how you look at it. Trading in fire and metal for feathers and bone.” Nathan addressed Laura, completely ignoring Warren’s face going a ghost white as he explained what was going to happen. Then Jimmy exploded and he had no choice but to clench his jaw tight and hold back as he gathered his thoughts. “I don’t give a damn what you think of me. Any of you. My job is to see what needs fixing and get it done. You know where making friends and staying around somewhere too long got the older Cable? It got him into a mess he didn’t want to get out of! And that’s a problem! And guess what junior-- you have no say in this. So I don’t give a shit about what you have to say either.”

TIME-DISPLACED JEAN: “Jimmy!” Despite the other other guys on her team Jean knew she had no business leaning on emotionally, she was actually in a relationship with someone in the room. She jumped to her feet as well, pink energy snapping off of her. “Hank made a lot of really good points and you all just bulldozed over them to keep yelling at each other like it’s your lives that are going to be ruined. And a vote? Do we even get one?”

TIME-DISPLACED BOBBY: Bobby knew he was one person who’s opinion was the least wanted at this moment, but in the heat of the moment he spoke up, over the din of the increasingly angered conversations, “I’ll go. If— if I have to. If it’s for the better. If it’ll stop all this- this time nonsense-“ hands flew up to his face to gesture frustratedly, “—I’ll go willingly.”

LAURA: That put her on edge. Warren looked scared and she automatically moved closer to him. Logan was bent over Jean and she wondered if he felt the same surge of protectiveness. Everyone in the room was capable but sometimes you felt more so than others. “It is one thing if they want to, but you cannot forcefully hurt them.”

TIME-DISPLACED JEAN: “--Bobby!” Jean didn’t have to say Judas. Her tone implied it very clearly.

JIMMY: "What?! Oh..." He said immediately looking guilty once he realized who he just yelled at. He remained standing and watched as his sister came to their aid as well.

EMMA: Emma Frost had, at the end of the day, great respect for Scott Summers. She had loved him at his worst and she supported him at his best. Personally, she had never cared for the furry Canadian so her allegiance was incredibly obvious. “I motion that the Council enacts a vote, as called upon by Captain Summers. Yell all you want, Nate darling, but you are not God. Not here. Do I have a second?”

TIME-DISPLACED HANK: "Bobby, don't." He said sternly. "Scott." He said talking to the older one. "I called for a fair and educated vote and that's what I would like to see tonight. Not all this yelling." He said shooting looks at all the guilty parties. "But should we take a vote. I implore you. All of you. To remember what I've said before you cast your vote."

ERIK: Erik, who had been eerily silent the entire time, finally opened his mouth again. “Let us vote.” He seconded Emma’s motion, his voice quieter than before and just a tad somber.

EMMA: “Most excellent.” Red lips parted to reveal white teeth. “The Council recognizes the following members of being in good standing for a full vote: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Katherine Pryde - who I vote for via proxy, Jean Grey, Kurt Wagner, Ororo Munroe, Sebastian Shaw, Apocalypse, Mister Sinister, Exodus, Mystique, Douglas Ramsey and myself, Emma Frost. We acknowledge the abstaining Of a vote by Captain Illyana Rasputin and the honorary votes of Henry McCoy, Robert Drake, Logan Howlett, Scott Summers and Warren Worthington III due to special circumstances. Finally, we acknowledge the honorary votes of the time-displaced Robert Drake, Henry McCoy, Jean Grey, Scott Summers and Warren Worthington III. Honorary votes will be weighed partially. All others are invited as witnesses to the fairness and unity of this motion. Please,” she took a breathe. “Cast your vote.”

TIME-DISPLACED WARREN: “My vote is an adamant no.” Young Warren answered immediately.

DOUG: "I'm curious to see if we could solve this puzzle like hairless Hank mentioned. No."

TIME-DISPLACED HANK: "Unsurprisingly, no."

HANK: "I like the idea of coming up with another solution. Or at least attempting to do so." He looked at the pregnant Jean for a moment feeling a pang of guilt. "No."

KURT: “I will cast the first yes. We need to send them back.”

EMMA: Sitting with her eyes closed, Emma was silent for a long moment before opening her eyes. “Although she originally voted no, the announcement of Jean’s baby has led to the Red Queen officially casting her vote as yes.”

LOGAN: “Yes.” Logan responded gruffly from where he sat next to Jean, without taking his eyes off of her.

SCOTT: "Yes." Scott said firmly.

WARREN: The older Warren’s gaze landed on his younger self, fully aware of the mistakes he was trying to avoid. All he could hope was that his other self would make smarter choices. “I vote yes.”

JEAN: She didn’t want to vote. Jean wanted to abstain but then she couldn’t remember why that was. Her younger self was looking at her and the thoughts from Jean were a lot stronger than her own. Staring straight ahead as everyone voted trying to make sense of the impossible. “Stay.”

TIME-DISPLACED SCOTT: Scott looked over at the older Jean, a sense of sadness running through him. He didn't want to have to make this decision, but this was part of who he was. He'd always made tough choices. "No." He ground his teeth. "And we won't go without a fight." he said, responding to his older self's previous question.

TIME-DISPLACED JEAN: Jean knew Jean hadn’t meant it. The vote was so incredibly tilted against them that there was no way that they’d stay, but she had voted yes. Tossed them something. Jean’s hand drifted down to her stomach for a moment even though it was devoid of life. It would be one day. Jean would have a baby and she was killing her future child by opening her mouth and saying: “Stay.” Echoing her older self, Jean moved closer to Scott and the rest of her team. It felt like the entire world was literally against them, but she tucked her body closer to Scott’s and stared them all down. “We’re going to stay.” Even if she had to enter all of their heads one by one.

ERIK: Erik listened intently as everyone voted, taking in the responses and everyone’s mood as the room came to terms with what was happening. He was torn between emotions and logic, just as he always was-- only this time, he was much more troubled by it. His head told him that they needed to send them back and his heart wanted them to stay. But he chose what he thought was best. “My vote is yes.” It was quiet, his voice almost cracking. He did his best to avoid eye contact with the younger Jean and made peace with his decision.

EMMA: “...And with that, we close the vote.” Emma announced once everyone had spoken. She rose from her chair, white fabric falling around her form. Her mind picked up the resistance from the young Jean, and a diamond mind shot out at her. You will do no such thing. You will accept this gracefully. Clasping both hands together, the telepath assessed the group. “Considering the full and partial votes, the Quiet Council officially states that four and aa a half have voted for them to stay and twelve have voted for them to leave. Due to this, the time-displaced X-Men will be sent back to the past, effective immediately.”

CABLE: “Thank the universe! You guys actually finally got there!” An exasperated Nathan dramatically put his two cents in the ring after the vote. “So now that we got that over with-- can we all suck it up and get moving?”

JIMMY: "Bullshit!" He roared hands slamming down on the table as he stood up. Making his way towards his team. X-Men Blue. The original 5. "They ain't going anywhere without me!" He said as he firmly took his stance next to Jean.

TIME-DISPLACED SCOTT: The five of them had gravitated towards each other when the voting had started, clustering as a team even though time and events had separated them. Without thinking about it, and without lending attention to Jimmy, Scott reached for Jean's hand. "We need to get out of here. Now."

CABLE: Nate glanced to Jimmy, one brow perked up in judgement. “You know that’s not happening, right?”

TIME-DISPLACED JEAN: As soon as Erik cast his voice Jean choked back a sob and turned, body folding into Scott’s as she buried her head into his chest. She head Jimmy yell and Scott take her hand, and Jean surfaced to look up at him. “They’re going to come after us.” Her fingers tightened around his.

JIMMY: Jimmy could hear everything going on behind him and whispered to the rest of them. "When I say run, run. Got it." He knew Laura could hear him too and glanced to her for a look of approval.

LAURA: Laura’s eyes were trained on Warren and the other X-Men. When she heard Jimmy speak she didn’t respond. Instead she just flexed her fingers, already ready to unsheathe her claws.

WARREN: Warren’s eyes met with Laura’s as he gathered what was going to happen. Scott was right-- they weren’t going down without a fight. He wouldn’t let that time-traveler touch his wings, either.

JIMMY: "I love you, Jean." This was the first time he ever said it out loud. He didn't know if he would get thrown into the belly of the island for this, but it would be worth it. "Run!" He shouted as his claws extended from between his finger and he bared his metal coated fangs.

LOGAN: Logan felt the tension in the room rise, and if he had been paying more attention he would have gotten up sooner. But then Jimmy was up, claws out and yelling, and while he felt his own adrenaline rise he had no interest in fighting another one of his kids. Instead he scooped Jean up and got the two of them out of there before anything bad could happen.

TIME-DISPLACED SCOTT: It was a much-needed distraction, even if it wouldn't drawn away all of the attention --- it would at least provide a wall between them and the nearest portal. If he thought a fight would result in their win, he would've stayed, but with the number of mutants in the room, they were vastly outnumbered. Gripping Jean's hand tight, Scott moved back and away from the crowd, signaling towards the rest of his team to follow him. "Time to go." he said more to himself than anyone else. He was ready to fight his way through if necessary, but he was pretty sure there was a law against that written down somewhere. They had to get off this island, if they stood a chance escaping the reach of Krakoa. He knew there was a portal outside of the council room, they just had to make it there without Nate stopping them.

TIME-DISPLACED JEAN: I love you. Oh, god. They had never said that before. That was big. Like, big big. “I---” Her mouth opened and closed. She wanted to say it back. He was fighting the entire Island for her, but instead her mind stalled. If they got away they’d have to stay hidden. She wouldn’t have been able to be with him. Instead of responding, Jean’s mouth clamped closed as her fingers intertwined through Scott’s. Thank you. The thought went out to both Jimmy and Laura before Jean turned and allowed Scott to tug her out of the chambers and into the portal that was situated by the door.

CABLE: “Oh shit--!” It was all a blur, and then Nate was on his feet as the young X-Men team started to storm out of the room. “Guys, we’ve talked about this! Where are you going?” He kept an eye on Jimmy as he moved, fumbling around on his tool belt to find something useful-- something to stun? Fuck, he packed the wrong guns for this meeting.

JIMMY: It was time to pounce. Without any hesitation he charged at Nate, his claws aimed towards his belt and weaponry. He wasn't aiming to hurt him, but if it happened it happened.

CABLE: “For fuck’s sake--” Nate grumbled under his breath as Jimmy lunged for him. He dropped the gun he had been fumbling with trying to put away and tried to dodge in time. The movement allowed him to get out of harm’s way but claws met with his utility belt and sliced it, causing it to hang limply from where it was still attached to him on the side. With a frustrated grunt, Nate then aimed a metal-armed punch at his assailant’s chest.

JIMMY: His metal reinforced bones were able to take the brunt of the damage but he grimaced at the very notable cracking sound emanating from his sternum. It was cracked, hurt like hell, but would heal within the minute. Pulling his claws in he grabbed Nate's arm with both of his, and attempted to pull back into a roll and toss him.

LAURA: “Enough.” Laura interjected herself between the two fighting males. Her claws were extended from each fist, one hand pointing at each of the respective parties. The X-Men were gone, and at this point, they’d have a nice head start. “You’ve killed enough today,” that was directed at Nate before she turned to Jimmy. “And you don’t need to die pointlessly. They’re gone.”

NATE: Nate had grabbed hold of Jimmy’s arm, ready to gain the advantage once Jimmy flipped them but instead he stumbled and then steadied them both as Laura’s claws made an appearance. He stayed on his feet, chest heaving from the short fight for a few seconds until he angrily let go of the other wolverine. “I wasn’t going to kill him, you know.” He was speaking with frustration, but his voice was soft. “People think I’m a mindless murderer-- I’m not. I just.. want to fix things. That’s all.”

LAURA: “I get it.” Laura said quietly. “They used to say that about me too. We can debate what’s right later, right now? We have X-Men about to die and others running for their lives. Stop hitting each other.”

JIMMY: He grunted as he and Nate separated. "Fine." He replied through pained breaths before nodding to Laura. He hadn't planned on actually hurting Nate, just needed to keep him away from his team.

EMMA: “Now that that’s settled,” Emma rose from her chair, where she had been watching the fight to see what would happen. “We can move on. Nathan, you really should be a dear and check on your parents. You were quite rude to them both. Wolverines,” she sniffed. “The Council will get back to you on your actions tonight.” She never found pleasure in playing what could be perceived as the bad guy. “We all want the best for these mutants, even if we disagree on what that looks like. Until we can stop the original X-Men from dying, we need their younger selves back. We’ll be sending mutants out to look for them.” Stepping off the dais, Emma looked at the youthful crowd. “Have a good night.”

#event: extermination #extermination: summit #chatlog: extermination summit #momevents

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