━━ A TRIP TO PARIS

WHEN I WAKE UP, LOGAN'S shaking my shoulder roughly.

My hair juts out from where I've been lying awkwardly on the couch, blanket still curled around my scrunched body. The book I was reading has somehow been placed on the table in front of me, bookmark sticking out of it. I yawn and groan as my tired body stretches out, frozen limbs cracking. Logan smirks and moves to the other side of the plane while I struggle to stand.

"What time is it?" I ask, my voice hoarse, throat dry. I need water.

"Time to go." Logan answers, and I give him a disapproving look before he disappears out the open door to the plane. I shoot up, realizing we've somehow landed, and I didn't hear it at all. I must have been exhausted, because the last thing I remember before falling asleep is watching Erik and Charles reconcile with a game of chess. 

Life is never a fair fight.

I take a deep breath and run a hand through my matted hair, then whirl around when movement behind me reaches my ears. Erik has come out of the bathroom, fully dressed. He stops mid-stride when he sees me standing in the middle of the room.

"Good morning." he says cautiously, and I simply nod, moving out of the way to let him pass.

"Are we leaving now?" I blurt out as he nears the open door. I wrap my arms around my waist, biting the inside of my cheek.

"Yeah." Erik answers plainly. "Better hurry." I nod as he exits the plane and curse under my breath, hitting my side into the corner of the wood table, making me curse louder. I can already feel a bruise blossoming as I run into the other room of the jet, taking out the small pack of clothes I decided to bring last minute. I rush into the bathroom and hurriedly change, banging different body parts accidentally against the wall some more, sprouting more bruises along my side.

I try to change as quickly as I can, brushing out my tangled hair, shrugging on a long cardigan, flared jeans and a short t-shirt. My style these past few years has been whatever feels comfortable. The only source of information I have on what's in and out is the magazine I forced Charles to pay a subscription for. I told him it was only about clothes, but I really just wanted it because there was a news section at the back, and I was able to keep up with what was going on in the world, as after watching Erik on television, I wouldn't let myself turn one on again.

It's silly, now that I think about, how I let such a little, useless thing determine how I lived so much of my life, all because I saw the man I looked up to as a father encased in the small screen.

It feels like a waste, and makes my insides churn unsteadily as I make my way out of the bathroom and into the main room of the jet. It's completely empty, and out of the plane, I can see the car waiting on the fresh tarmac. Everyone's inside already.

I leave everything behind by the spot I fell asleep in and go to the car. Outside, the sun beats down heavily on my back, immediately making sweat blossom on my forehead, and I push a strand behind my ears before making the rest of the way to the hot ground. Heat splutters below, waves wiggling through the air far off in the distance.

I turn back to the jet, and my mouth falls open at the sight behind it. Far off in the distance, peeking through above the sleek metal plane, is a structure I've only ever seen in pictures, in magazines or newspapers, and maybe the occasional film.

The Eiffel tower stands high and proud in the center of the beautiful city of Paris, glistening in the sun, it's tall peaks shimmering, as if it's been doused in glitter from head to toe. My breath catches in my throat. Despite being here for a reason I would rather forget, I can't help but take a moment to appreciate where we are, in a beautiful city on a historic day.

"Leena!" Charles' slightly aggravated voice flies out of the driver's seat, and I remember where I am. I whirl back around and walk hastily towards the right side of the vehicle, peering inside. Hank and Charles sit in the front, while Erik and Logan are on either side of the back, apparently wanting to be as far away from each other as possible. I purse my lips and open the side door, standing in the frame. Logan just looks up at me with confused eyes.

I grumble under my breath and gesture to the middle, waving my hands to say move over. He glares at me, but reluctantly moves into the middle. I allow myself a smile and climb in.

Charles sighs, looks back towards the front, and turns on the engine. As we drive through the city, I can't help but be entranced by the beauty of Paris. Stone facades that are intricately carved tower over us, buildings as old as feathered parchment stand tall and proud. I roll down the window as we pass. There are people celebrating in the streets, waving flags and grinning from ear to ear. It is a special day, the end to a war that has ruined so many lives.

The air is fresh and pleasant on my face as I smile to little children eating candy with their siblings, and look longingly as we pass cozy bookshops and little cafes where handsome men and beautiful women read musty books and smoke flavourful cigarettes. The city of Paris is alight with life, teeming with abundance and stitched by a gracious hand, allowing the city to be weaved into a gorgeous place of love. It's a stark change to what I've been living like these past few years. It's a change for everyone in this car. We all stare wide-eyed out into the world, as if we can't quite believe that there is this much happiness still on Earth.

Of course, Charles has to be the one to break the splendid reverie. "So, we all know the plan?" I sigh and force my head back around. Charles is looking at us through the mirror, his eyes hard and unforgiving.

I bite the inside of my cheek and look down to my bandaged hand. They haven't been bothering me as much this morning, thanks to the new bandages wrapped around the knuckles.

"Yeah." Logan is the one to answer, but doesn't go on to say it out loud. His gruff voice is enough to end the starting of the conversation. All that can be heard is the happy shouts of gleeful passersby as we get stuck in midday traffic.

Silently, I run through the plan in my head, trying to will myself to stay calm.

We go in through the back entrance. As a group we go up to where Bolivar Trask is holding his secret meeting in one of the conference rooms. There, we find Raven, and hope that the presence of both Charles and Erik is enough to keep her from ending the world.

My stomach twists, crisscrossing knots that tie together and won't come undone. My throat closes up, and I'm forced to look away. The feeling worming it's way through my gut is something I've known for a long time. Jealousy. I've felt it in almost every person I've ever met. Jealousy often takes different forms, sometimes it's a heat in the cheeks, sometimes a roll of the stomach. other times, it's a glare so poignant and sharp it would be able to cut glass.

The point is, I've never had this type of jealousy within me before, and the mere thought of it crawling through my mind makes me sick. I curl my hands into fists and try to watch the sights once more, but all of it has blurred, mind solely focused on the rank taste in my mouth.

I shouldn't be envious, shouldn't be jealous, but the thought finds a home in my head and will not leave.

For Raven, for a woman who made choices that hurt both Erik and Charles, she is gaining redemption, getting both back without any repercussions. Erik and Charles fly to her side like loyal birds to their flock. And who knows, maybe she deserves it, maybe Raven was the light in both their lives, and she was the one who kept them sane. But something tells me that isn't the case, something tells me Erik and Charles going to rescue her after everything that's happened isn't justice. It isn't wholly right.

It's a traitorous thought, but one I can't get out of my head.

We turn off route, down a back street I saw on the maps Hank was able to get for our plan. We turn down here, then back into two other alleys, past a gate, and we'll be inside the building where Trask and Raven are.

First turn.

I fiddle with the bandages on my hand, playing with the clip holding them together. The pricking of my skin forces my head around, and I can see Erik leaning forward, his eyes glancing in my direction. The moment I turn to him, he looks away, but his eyes are dark and his features sharpened. Logan grunts and shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with being in the middle seat. He has the signature frown I've come to know never leaves his face still plastered over his mouth. I move back towards the window, watching solemnly as we pass the dank backstreets, where life seems to fester and boil, seeping into the walls, leaving barely any left shimmering through the air.

Sadness is prevalent here, twisting my insides, causing my fingertips to split at the end, dark energy rumbling beneath my skin. I push them down, commanding them to be quiet. The whispers hug at my mind, clawing at the walls of darkness. I know I should stop trying, the shadows always seem to want to disobey me these days. It's nothing new, no matter how hard it hits me. The control I gained ten years ago has dwindled because of my addiction to the serum, because of the new-found pain in not being able to take it.

Second turn.

Charles grips the steering wheel tighter, and the air suddenly condenses, as if everything nice and special has been sucked up and spit back out. Hank is looking down at maps in his hand, but I can see his shoulders are stiff, and his breathing laboured. Each turn we get closer to it all, to saving the future of mutant-kind, to being reunited once more. To all of it.

The end of the world hangs on a thin string, scissors ready to cut through the fabric. If I hadn't saved the world from war once, I would have laughed at how hilarious it all sounds. But I've learned that it is never a joke, never something to chuckle about when reminiscing. These are lives held in your hand, humans you have the choice to let live or die. It is their blood dripping from your tongue, poisoning your mind when you make the wrong choice.

The future is no laughing matter. It's life and death.

I gulp.

Third turn.

This is it. Up ahead, the building comes into view, the large metal gate closed off to any unwanted guests. But when has that ever stopped us? Logan mutters something under his breath and the window on Erik's side is slowly rolled down. Charles doesn't hesitate, doesn't even pause as we draw closer to the gate, the guards with heavy rifles strung across their chests move forward, suspicion weaving through their hearts.

I prepare myself and hold out a hand. Black shadows pour from my hand, cutting towards their heads, and when I get into their minds, I ease their suspicion.

But then Erik raises his own hand, curling it into a fist, and I look at him confusedly. He steels himself and brings the fist towards him. The metal gates in front of us curl and bend by some unseen hand, jutting towards the guards. Charles and I call out as the metal wraps around the men and pushes them to the side, clearing a path for the car to easily course through it.

I sit back in my seat as we drive through, trying not to look at the caged men.

This was not part of the plan. I was supposed to use the dark energy to cut the lock on the gate, and subdue the guards so we didn't raise suspicion. Now the large clatter of the bent gates has most likely drawn attention, and soon everyone in the streets will see the men caught up in an impossibly strange shape.

I don't even try to hide my annoyance as I shoot a dagger-like glare into the side of Erik's head from where I see him on the other side of Logan. The bruises start to ache, and a small burst of pain at the back of my head forces me to turn away.

Charles stops the car under the shade of the parking garage, and when the splutter of the engine finally halts, it leaves unbearable silence in its wake.

We all sit there for a moment, none of us making a move for the doors. My limbs have frozen, seizing up so that I can barely breathe. This is it. Why did I think we would have more time? Why did I think I would have more time, to prepare, to come to terms with everything Logan has told me. If he hadn't come back, I would be in there with her, standing to the side, ready to watch Raven kill Trask, then we would both be taken prisoner.

And later, I'd die.

My hands start to shake, sweat seeping through the bandages as Charles takes a deep breath and turns to us. He doesn't look at me, I think if he does, it'll be too painful for him.

He says nothing, only nods once, but that's all the direction we need.

One by one, we slip out of the car. I'm the last one out, going out of Erik's side, and he closes the door behind me with a snap. I look up at him, and his face is grave. A hint of guilt swims through me, and I know it is not my own. It's his. I scrunch my brows, unsure of what that could possibly mean. I don't have time to dwell on it, however, as Erik guides me towards the group, and I find comfort in the familiarity, like the routine we'd built at the manor is coming back, no matter how different we are now.

Erik and I follow the group through the building, made of beautiful quartz and sturdy stone. The foyer is lavish, the stairs carpeted in velvet. We walk as a group through the main hall, and I suppress any suspicion with a clench of my fist.

We go up two steps at a time, turning onto a dimly lit corridor where a number of terrified people are clambering out an open door. Faintly, we hear grunts and the sound of flesh and bones crunching.

Raven.

We rush over and come into the frame of the doorway. Inside, Raven is crouched on the abandoned table, a sleek black gun in her hand. A man in military uniform lies on the floor, unconscious. The man Raven is about to shoot is small, with a thick mustache and a head of dark hair. His large glasses nearly fall off his face, and his hands shake by his side, but I sense no fear in him.

His eyes are alight with wonder, and something of pride worms it's way through his corrupt heart. It makes me pause, while the others push past me to walk farther into the room, all except Logan, who sticks by my side.

Everyone has a different reaction to seeing Raven again. She's in her natural form, with thin auburn hair and marked sapphire skin. She's still as beautiful as I remember, and looks as if she hasn't aged a day. Erik stiffens, his shoulders tight and unforgiving.

Hank is apprehensive, his heart hammering loudly in his chest. Charles is the only one with a semblance of calm, and it's him who calls out to her before she can pull the trigger.

"Raven."

His voice is thick with emotion I don't have the heart to dive into, and I barely pay attention to Raven, my eyes trained on the man who, in another future, would be responsible for my death. But that's not the only blood he has on his hands.

He killed Sean. He experimented on Sean. he's the one who has been capturing and torturing mutants for the government, I know it. The scar on my stomach burns, a reminder of what I went through with Shaw. the poking and prodding, the white sterile rooms and knives flashing across flesh. Shaw's kinetic energy spreading across my tear-stained cheek, the constant movement of his "Hellfire Club". 

A bloodied coin falls onto a mirrored floor.

I grit my teeth and turn back to the man. His eyes land on me, and his brows scrunch up in confusion at the sight of someone so young in a room full of everyone older. The man holds a strange device in his hands, and it starts beeping loudly, growing and growing and eventually reaching a high pitched squeal when it lands on me.

I frown and move a hand upward, shadows flying out and snatching the machine away from him. He staggers back, but I reach out again and calm his mind. There's a sound of pain from the floor, and I turn to the side. The military man has awoken, and thin strips of wire pierce Raven's body, an electrical current running through the taser. Erik raises his own hand and moves the wires over to the man's neck, and he falls back down, convulsing violently, the same as Raven.

Charles rushes over to where Raven shakes on the table, her neck straining, eyes wide. It makes me sick, remembering going through a similar pain when Shaw was obsessed with taking my power. But now is not the time to think about me. This is about Raven. I keep one hand raised towards the man, freezing him in place, so he can't escape. My frown pierces his forehead, digging deep into his skin, as if I'll find some justification, some reason to keep him alive.

Anger laces my heart, growing and growing ever more. He killed Sean. He killed Azazel and Angel. The people that stood and watched us suffer, yet now, with them dead, I can't help but grieve.

"You..." the man whispers, choking from where I control him. "... extraordinary." I clench my jaw and subdue him to the point of semi consciousness, and while it takes a lot to maintain, it's better than hearing any other words come out of his mouth. Trask sounds like Sebastian Shaw, and it makes me want to faint.

"Charles?" Raven says lightly, looking into his eyes from where he holds her head and kneels beside her. Erik walks forward, but Logan stays where he is. His claws peek out from between his muscles, but he doesn't release them fully, and his face is grim.

"We've come for you." Charles says, and it's the happiest I've heard him in years. "Erik and I." he whispers. "Together." Erik looks down to his feet, but I'm unable to get a read on his emotions while I hold Trask steady. His eyes darken.

"I..." Raven answers. "I never thought I'd see you again." Now I'm the one looking down. The jealousy hits me hard in the gut, but I force myself to stay strong, to keep Trask from slipping away. He's still looking at me as if I'm some beautiful alien creature come down from the moon. His eyes flit from the shadows enclosing themselves around his wrists, then to my face.

"I made you a promise." Charles says. "A long time ago, that I would protect you. And I didn't- I didn't." My attention is caught somewhere else. A hint of pain reaches my stomach, and it's not my own. I turn my head slowly, eyes grazing over Charles and Raven, down to the man still convulsing on the floor. A hint of familiarity pricks at my mind, but I know for a fact that I've never seen him in my whole life.

Hank and Logan are the next ones I see, and that' when I realize who the pain is coming from. Logan frowns, taking a step back. He's stoic for a moment, but his eyes are locked on the man near his feet.

My breathing grows laboured as strong emotions attack the walls in my mind, more ferocious than ever before. Logan and I make the same movements, and my hand goes up to my head, the shadows releasing from Trask, who simply stands there watching the scene unfold. I place both hands to the side of my temples, palms flattening against the skin.

Erik doesn't look at me. He doesn't even notice. His gaze is locked on Raven and Charles, from where they're still talking in front of us. But I don't care. My focus is also taken, by Logan, who flinches and stumbles back, breathing heavily until he hits the pillared wall near the entrance.

I almost fall to my knees. The tearing in my mind, the same I felt when I reached into Logan's head, now comes again, but I'm not even trying to reach his emotions. They're so strong, so painful. I stumble back, clambering for something to grab onto. My eyes water, and flashes of memories that are not my own torture me.

Erik still can't see me, but it doesn't matter now. The hope I had to rekindle what we built ten years ago is gone, my only focus is to get to Logan, to stop whatever plagues our minds. Pain, pain, pain, the shadows scream in my head as I slip and slide across the floor, the ground swimming below me. Doom, doom, doom.

"Logan!" I say, voice hoarse. He can't look at me, neck bulging as he stands straight and shaking against the wall. Hank frowns at me as I grab onto him, and we both turn to the man from the future. He looks down at me through terrified eyes. I reach out, fingertips aching, bandaged hand blazing. I touch his cheek.

Then, several things happen at once. I feel as if I've detached from my body, the world floating below me as I swim through the world like the phantom I'm named after.

A ghost. A spirit which haunts minds. A wraith.

Logan gasps when I touch him, and images float through our minds, images I know are from his own timeline. Hank let's go of me, turning. I move my head as well, and that's when I see Erik, hand outstretched, a gun held in his fingers, pointed straight at Raven and Charles.

"Forgive me, Mystique." he says, utterly emotionless, and from where I seethe to his side, my eyes grow wide. No, no god, please no!. "As long as you're out there, we'll never be safe."

"Erik." Hank warns.

"Use your power, Charles." Raven says, her eyes panicked. "Stop him."Charles grimaces. Erik smirks.

"He can't." and then Raven runs. She doesn't hesitate, moving across the table at a speed I didn't know possible, heading for the window at the other end. Erik cocks the gun while Logan suddenly grabs onto my arm. I look up at him, and his eyes go blurry, which mean mine do as well. The pain is overwhelming. I cry out.

Hank lunges at Erik, knocking him to the ground, gun flying out of his hands. But when has that ever stopped Erik? His hands do it for him, and the bullet flies from the pistol with a horrible crack.

They fall to the floor.

The glass shatters as Raven jumps out of the window, shards cascading around her like a dangerous waterfall.

Logan and I fall to the ground.

The world descends into chaos. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE...

I think we all know what's coming next chapter, and let me just say, it's gonna be a lot of stress for my sweet summer child Leena

Thoughts on this chapter? What are your theories for how this act is gonna end? what was your favourite part of this chapter? I would love to know it all! As always, don't be afraid to comment, vote, and follow...

Love, Mal