The first time she had lost control of her mutation since the Professor had taken her in had been something that was etched into her mind. The details of that day were a blur━ lessons, the curl of Scott's lip at something she had said followed by a dusting of pink on his cheeks, an argument with the professor and then━ the older man wasn't there.

In his place, there was an empty chair and she could feel it━ could feel the threads that made up their history slowly unravelling as the one that brought them here no longer existed. And she remembered frantically calling for Scott, hoping that he could help her because Scott always could━ what Cassandra didn't know the answer to, Scott Summers did.

And he had run in at the shout of his name only for him to look at her, at the red staining her fingertips, at the pulsating red threads weaved in between the gaps of her fingers and━

"What are you."

Cassandra flinches at the tone, a stark reminder of one of her worst memories as she looks at the man.

"It's just me Scott," Cassandra raised her hands, her heart pounding away in her chest as she stared at the closed-off form of Scott. He looked tense as if he didn't recognize her, his brow furrowed and mouth pursed into a thin line, the warmth that he usually held when he was near her, a stark contrast to the coldness of his demeanour. Cassandra took a tentative step forward, her heart pounding in her chest, a maelstrom of emotions in her chest as she looked at the man.

"Scott," she whispered, the name slipping from her lips like a prayer, filled with longing and nostalgia. His hesitation, the flicker of uncertainty crossing his face, felt like a dagger to her heart.

With a deep breath, she spoke again, her hand trembling slightly as she touched his arm. "It's me, Cassie, your Cassie," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with an urgency that begged for recognition.

"This.." Scott stared at her, opening his mouth to voice out what he was thinking and Cassandra braced herself for what was to come.

A hundred lifetimes and yet Cassandra can't seem to go of this fear━ this idea that maybe one day, one day he would see the nightmare that lies beneath and it would be something he can no longer stand. That she would find herself a Scott Summers who sees the cracks, sees the bruises, sees the grief she carries for him and turns away. She imagines him recoiling in horror, unable to reconcile the vibrant woman he adores with the haunted figure she sometimes sees in the mirror.

He looks at her the same way he does now.

"Mutant freaks!" Cassandra froze at the shout, her eyes widening as she looked at Scott, whose face had settled into something grim. He reached out, hand curling around her wrist as he pulled her along. Cassandra doesn't fight against the pull, letting him lead the two of them away from the angry mob━ lips twisted into something vicious, venomous words spewing from the mouths of those they had just saved.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath, their backs pressed against the wall as she used her hand━ the one not holding onto Scott to manipulate the entrance to the alley, placing a wall to block anyone from seeing inside.

The part of her that is still raw begs that the mob doesn't dissipate, knowing that their absence would be followed by Scott pulling away. That she would once again be left alone━ unlovable hand reaching out for a hand that wouldn't meet hers, fearing her touch the way others have done.

This isn't her Scott, Cassandra had forgotten. He wasn't hers, the Scott Summers of this world. He belonged to Cassie━ sweet and fearful and one that knows who she is, one that isn't a mosaic of grief and anger and memories that have now turned to blurs of emotions and sounds. Which of them belonged to hers, which of them belonged to the ones gone, Cassandra no longer knew.

"Cassie," Scott's voice was soft as he called out to her, making her turn away from the wall to look at him, "I'm sorry"

"It━ it's okay," Cassandra said, her words honest. There was nothing that she would not forgive, not when it was him. "I probably scared you wi━"

Scott shook his head following it by giving her hand a light squeeze, "I shouldn't have been, you're Cassie."

Cassandra, since stepping into this universe, feels as if she can breathe.

━

"What happened?" The frantic voice of Jean was the first thing Cassandra hears when the two of them step into the manor, "Where's━ Cass!" Cassandra barely has a second to brace herself before she finds her arms full of a redhead, Jean's arms around her in a vice grip as she clutches to her like a lifeline.

Cassandra could hear a few more pairs of footsteps a beat later but her focus was on Jean━ it was easier to focus on Jean, focus on why the girl was shaking in her hold, easier than to accept why there was a heavy weight pressing on her chest, than recalling what she had done.

Jean Grey had been her first friend, the first person she lost Scott to. Jean Grey had been her biggest regret and her greatest loss━ a haunting spectre that lingered in her memories, a reminder of the friendship that had been tainted by unspoken feelings and heartbreak. A dissonant  thread the two shared━ Cassandra with her lifetime of memories and Jean with a sliver.

"Hey Jean," Cassandra started, her voice soft as she pulled away from the girl slightly, brown meeting emerald green, "What's wrong."

"I could hear you screaming," Jean starts, her voice slightly shaky as her fingers dig into Cassandra's skin and she can't help but freeze at the redhead's words. Fuck.

Cassandra looked away from the girl, meeting Scott's eyes for a split second, the same grim look settled on his face as he took in what Jean was saying. She looked away quickly, instead focusing on Jean. "You were screaming and then suddenly it went quiet and I thought━"

"Hey- hey, Jean," Cassandra forced herself to sound reassuring, despite her erratic heartbeat. Fuck, she had been too harsh this time. "I'm fine, see?"

"What happened?" Cassandra turned from Jean at the question, looking to see who the voice belonged to. She didn't recognise the girl━ red hair cropped at the shoulders, eyes that felt familiar and markings on her body. For a beat, Cassandra was tempted to pull out her strings and check who that girl was but her attention was taken by the next set of words that came from her. "You're alive?"

Everyone in the room present tenses at the girl's words. Cassandra looked at her, her lips twisting into a frown as she stared the girl down who looked as if she wished she could take back what she had said, especially when Scott pinned her with a stern look.

"Should she not be?" Scott questioned, his voice sharp in a way that Cassandra had only heard when something had ticked him off━ sharp, like the cracks of Ororo's thunders in a clear afternoon. "Answer me, Rachel," Scott pressed on, his words twisting into a snarl as he looked at the girl━ Rachel. "Should she not be?"

Cassandra moved away from Jean, taking a tentative step towards Scott, her fingers curling around his wrist before sliding down and tangling his fingers with hers and squeezing. She could feel him sag slightly at the action, his body slumping into hers just enough to convey the weight of his unspoken emotions, yet it remained coiled, his grip on her tightening as Rachel failed to answer.

Despite the situation, despite her own uneasiness at Rachel's words, Cassandra soaked in his warmth, savouring the weight of him against her that felt almost grounding. The open wounds all over her soul healing beat by beat at his continuous presence━ warm, moving, alive.

"I━ No, not I meant," Rachel shook her head, her words coming out a stutter as she took a step back. She swallowed, taking in a calming breath and speaking again. "No, I meant with Jean and━"

"That's not it," Scott interrupted, "you were shocked━ almost confused when you saw her. Why?"

Rachel stared at Scott, gaping, trying to find her wits as she thought of the best way to answer Scott's line of questions.

"It's fine," Cassandra spoke up, taking pity on the girl. Whatever was supposed to happen, didn't with her presence here. And whatever was supposed to happen, whatever this universe would throw her way, Cassandra knew that she could take them, she had to. She had to protect Scott. "I'm fine, Scott."

"What happened out there?" Warren questioned, steering the conversation to the topic at hand, pointing at both Scott and Cassandra's dishevelled state.

Rachel let out a soft breath of relief as the attention shifted from her to the two original X-Men, with Scott recounting what had happened when they had gone out. She took a step back, leaning her back against the wall to calm her racing mind.

Fuck.

She had to be careful, Rachel knew she had to be careful. Especially around her parents who hadn't━ who didn't━

She let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair as she slipped out of the room as inconspicuously as she could, heading over to hers. She remembered the stories that her mother told her, remembered every word that fell from her mother's lips, and had recounted all the stories of the great X-Men when they were whole to herself every time her mind felt as if it would eat itself from the inside.

She knew all the stories and yet━

Rachel makes her way out a few hours later, a knock on her door and a holler signifying that someone has made dinner. She sighs, running her hand through her hair as she tried to come up with an appropriate reason for why she had reacted that way to her father.

She knew that whatever trust they had built from their time together━ from her name, had been shattered. Rachel knew the way her father felt about the Weaver, and knew that he mourned the woman to this day. She could see the pain in his eyes whenever he spoke of the Weaver, a name that hung in the air like a ghost in between all of them. 

A haunting presence that was always there in the mansion every time the original X-Men gathered. It was prevalent in the way her mother would always glance at her right as if waiting for someone to answer, the way her father would have an extra cup of chai set beside his, as if waiting for someone to walk into the kitchen and pick it up, sitting beside him. It was a wound that never truly healed, an ache that lingered.  She knew she had to fix her slip-up, she had to fix it to regain whatever trust he had in her.

She walked down the hallways, waving at one of her fello━

"Rachel?" She blinked at the call of her name, Nena's voice concerned as she looked at Rachel. "Where were you at dinner, I didn't see you?"

"What do you━" She froze, realisation setting in.

The Weaver wasn't supposed to be here.

She doesn't want to die.

━

Her mouth feels as if it is full of cotton and her mind fuzzy. Something in her feels disconnected as she slowly comes to her senses━ the beeping of a machine, the feeling of tape on her forearm, the feel of the threads in between her fingers, silken and pulsating━ the threads, why were the threads untangled?

Cassie took in a sharp breath, ignoring the way she felt as if the ground had been pulled from under her feet as she took in the sight of her fingers, threads curling around them and stained red. Oh gods.

"Scott," Cassie called out, the beeping of the heart rate monitor picking up as she stared at her hands, curling them into fists and willing the threads away. Her breaths came in short gasps that seemed to be out of her control, as though the air itself was working against her━ too thick to move to her lungs and ease the burn that was growing by the beat. Her senses were overwhelmed, any thoughts of reason or outside presence feeling miles away.

"Scott," Cassie called out again, desperate for the reassuring presence of her boyfriend

"Cassandra," Hank's gentle timbre cut through her thoughts, a gentle hand on her shoulder that she flinches away from. "Cassandra, you have to breathe dear."

Cassie tries, the air stuck in her throat━ where was Scott?

"Cassandra, follow what I say," Hank tried again, leading her through several breathing exercises until her heart no longer beat erratically. The burn in her lung had subsided, and her vision cleared.

"Hank.." Cassie breathes out, her voice sounding hoarse. "What am I doing in the medbay?" She swallows, her eyes burning as she gazes at her friend, "Did I..?"

Hank stares at her for a minute, something indecipherable in his expression as he looks at her, "N━ no, no you didn't do anything dear," Hank's voice sounds as warm as always and yet, something akin to dread fills her, "The Professor would like a word with you."

Cassie pauses at his words but nods. She lets him check her over, taking in her vitals all the while she stares at the door, waiting for Scott to walk through. Was he given an assignment by the Professor? Is that why he wasn't next to her yet?

"Cassandra," Hank's voice is soft━ pitiful when he speaks, making her freeze. "I'm sorry my dear."

Cassie looks at the man, suddenly all the strength to get off the bed to meet the professor disappearing.

Oh.

note.

does this chapter feel all over the place? yes. do I hate it? yes.