━━ FROM ASHES TO ASHES

I DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD hurt so much.

I've felt my mind tearing before, I thought I would know what it would truly be like to happen again. I tore myself from the inside out when I was with Shaw, when he cupped my cheek in his ice cold palm and whispered sweet nothings into my ear. I tore apart as he declared himself a god and me his angel. I thought I would know, I thought I could handle it.

I was wrong.

I can barely see, eyes watering so badly the world is a blurry haze. My hands grapple with the side of my head, as if holding them over my ears will somehow will away the knives digging through my flesh. Both Logan and I lay beside each other, my other hand still on his cheek. I want to pull it away, I need to pull it away. Any more of this and I truly will die.

The images won't stop, the whispers growing louder and louder until they hammer the inside of my skull, pounding their shadowy fists against the side of my skull.

I scream. Tears stream down my face.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this. STOP, I scream silently, my throat ripped to shreds.

"Leena." Logan's spluttering voice causes me to turn. Someone is holding onto me, their fingers wrapping around my hands. I push them away, but they're firm, and soon my fingers leave Logan's skin. It does nothing to ease the pounding in my skull, the shredding in my head.

"Leena," an accented voice calls out. I slump against Charles, shaking. "Leena, come on." I shake my head. So tired, I think dully, I'm so tired. "Leena, Leena, please, come on. Erik—" My eyes snap open. The room spins from where I lay on the floor, held up in Charles' arms. I stagger away, my knees buckling and palms aching. He keeps a firm hand on my back.

"What?" I splutter out. "What's going on."

"Leena, it's Erik." Charles says. "He's going to kill Raven." My eyes widen, the pain easing. Logan's still writhing on the floor. "I can't—" he looks so helpless. "I can't help, my powers..."

He lets me sit up, and that's when I become aware of the screams. A thousand different voices, both out loud and in their minds, scream out in unison. The fear, oh god, the fear, it eats me up. There's too much of it, putrid and clear as day. The shadows burn, inching along my hands, swirling into my palms. Charles' eyes widen as they pool to the floor. I can't pull them back, as it's taking everything in me to keep the rest inside.

"Where is he?" I manage to say, holding onto Charles' forearm so tightly I think I might be cutting off his circulation.

"He's gone after her," Charles replies, his voice thick. "Leena, he's gone after Raven." I sit up, my muscles straining. The pain has lessened, and when I look over, I can see Logan picking himself up, moving his hands towards his face. Confusion clouds his mind like fog, piercing through the agony. It allows me a second to breathe, and I'm able to stand fully with Charles' help.

Trask is gone, slipping past us in the mayhem of Erik's betrayal. But I don't focus on Trask right now, no matter how much I want to strangle him for what he did to Sean. My priority is Erik, the man who somehow ripped us all apart again. I didn't think it would happen. I didn't think he could tear my heart up, become a traitor in the eyes of friends more than once. But that's the thing about Erik Lehnsherr, he always seems to know how to cause chaos.

I look towards the window, sweat-slicked hair sticking to the back of my neck. More and more shadows pool to the floor. I'm losing my grip on control, losing my strength to the hundreds of screams running through my mind.

I almost want the pain again, want to be in Logan's mind. It would be better than the horror I feel from the humans towards my own kind. I let go of Charles' hand and step back. Hank is on the floor, his body shaking, and I don't feel a single calm bone in his body. Before Charles and I can do anything, Hank turns blue, growing fur along his head and arms and legs, muscles bulging from underneath his clothes.

I call out to him, jolting forward, but he disappears out the shattered window before I can do anything. Charles is rubbing his temples, blood trickling down his nose from where I assume Erik punched him. I look to Logan, but he's still grappling with his now outstretched claws, eyes wide and fearful. When he looks at me, his eyes narrow.

There's only one choice. It's a choice that scares me to death, that makes me want to fall under the spell of Hank's sweet serum, to have the simple monotony of my miserable life these past ten years back. I wish I'd never agreed to see Erik, I wish Logan had never come here, I wish I would have just died when I was supposed to.

But I've never gotten anything I've ever wished for.

When I was with Shaw, crying into my pillow each night after he left, I wished to grow wings and fly away forever. When I was finally free, I wished to gain control. It seems every time a wish is granted, another takes it's place, and on and on it goes. The torture rises from the ashes again and again. Now I know, it's never going to be enough. I'm never going to run out of wishes, out of pleads and prayers. Never.

With the realization, with the steady reconciliation that I will never be free, I raise myself into the air, guiding the shadows around me like a black satin gown pooling at my feet. The dark energy crackles in my palms, and Charles takes shocked steps back.

From my back sprout wings of pure ebony, swirling around my flesh. Though I can't see it, I know my eyes have turned deathly black.

Without looking at Charles, or thinking for one second more about what I'm doing, I pick myself up higher and fly out the window.

Hank and Erik are on the ground, along with Raven, whose leg is seeping blood from a bullet wound. Beast and Magneto are too occupied punching at each other to notice me, but the moment I fly out and to the ground, everyone else does. Their screams get louder, and now they try to run away. Raven's eyes grow wide, and when our gazes meet, I sense a flicker of fear pass across her heart.

It makes my own heart shake, quivering from the many spots I've picked it up after being shattered and broken. Again and again. Always again and again I try not to look at the humans, at their horror towards what I am, towards the dark shadows that sprout out of me like second limbs. They think me a monster, a human brought from hell to wreak havoc on their world. The religious in the crowd think I am a demon, or something far worse.

I've all heard these before. I distinctly remember a time where Shaw took me to a cottage on the sea, where some sort of diplomat was staying for his vacation. After the man had given Shaw all the information he needed, leverage provided by my power, Shaw told me to release the shadows on the man.

That last thing I felt from before the man died was monster. He thought I was a monster, and he wouldn't be the last. A memory from the CIA facility flashes across my mind. Two men corner me, in tailored black suits with sardonic smiles that make me want to sink into the floor. Monster, they think as I walk away. Monster, I relent.

"Hank!" I call out, reaching up a hand to calm the minds of the officers with guns around us. They stop their bullets from hitting our bodies, but it's so much strain I can barely contain myself from lashing out with all my power.

Hank and Erik aren't listening, and soon they twist, landing in the large fountain pool. My eyes widen as Hank moves on top of Erik, pushing his head down into the water and not letting the man come up for air. My feet land fully on the ground, and I rush for the fountain, already calling shadows towards me. But then I remember Raven, and her importance. I turn to where she's getting up, and we lock eyes again. I let my eyes fade back to their vivid green.

Her face relaxes.

"Raven, wait." I say, voice ringing out across the square. I don't say it loud enough for the other people to hear, but I shouldn't worry. They probably can't hear anything over their own screaming. Just in case, I grit my teeth and enhance the darkness in their minds, elevating their fear so that they can barely do anything. It hurts, but I know that Raven is the priority right now, not my own sanity. Then again, when has that ever been a priority?

"I have to go, Leena." she says, and I hear no remorse in her voice. Her tone is all sharp edges and biting anger.

"Charles didn't know Erik was going to do that." I call out.

"But you did." Raven retorts, and this stops me dead in my tracks. The dark energy still seeps up my arms, turning my veins black and making my fingertips split in the middle. My mouth closes shut, tears swimming in my eyes.

"What?" I manage to choke out. It's as if the world has dropped into oblivion, moving so slowly I can detect every miniscule sound around me. I barely see Erik and Hank still in the fountain.

"Or at least," Raven continues, turning away and looking back. "You could have tried." Then she disappears into the crowd, becoming someone different, someone I don't understand. I'm left frozen in the the spot, breath leaving me in ragged pants.

You could have tried. Tried to what? Tried to see into Erik's head, to find something that would have warned us against his betrayal? Yes, that's it. I stagger back a step, not because I'm offended, but because I know she's right. There was something, something in the way he watched me, in the way he tensed every time Raven's name was mentioned. It should have been enough, feeling the flickers of his traitorous emotions in the shadows of my head. I should have known. Maybe I did. 

No, I think, no, please, no. 

I did know. 

Some tiny, fractured part of me knew what Erik was gonna do, and it makes everything inside me tear itself to shreds.

The sound of car alarms jolts me back to reality, and I whirl around to see every metal object around us being pulled by an invisible hand towards Erik and Hank in the center of the fountain. I watch as the people run around us, shrieking at the top of their lungs. Across the way, I spot a young child crying. There is a metal gate flying towards her.

Without hesitating, I gather up the shadows and throw them towards the little girl, scooping her into the energy. The girl screams as I pull her back, out of the way of the gate. I place her gently on the ground near a tree, where there is nothing that can hurt her. She sits dazed with a stuffed bear in her hands, and when she peers at my face, with my glistening black eyes and dark veins, she smiles.

I gasp as overwhelming gratitude and admiration worms it's way through my heart, sparking a fire in my soul that has been burnt out for so long. It burns away the haze of destruction that has clouded my senses, and I can suddenly see clearer, my ears able to detect every little sound.

"Thank you." I whisper to the little girl, and though she can't hear me, the girl giggles. Then there is a shriek, and a woman comes running up to the girl, scooping her into her arms. The mother doesn't see me by the edge of the street, feet planted on the cobblestones as if I've been glued to the spot. The girl does, however, and as they walk away, she waves to me, curly hair falling over her youthful eyes.

Despite everything, I wave back.

When they're out of view, I turn back around, remembering my true purpose as to why I came out here. Hank and Erik still grapple in the fountain, and the crowds have dispersed enough for me to slip through and run after them.

"Hank!" I call out. "Erik! Stop!" as always, they don't listen to me,but soon Erik stops thrashing in the water. I step forward, the shadows seeping into my palms as Hank, enraged and bright blue, relaxes his arms.

"Hank." I say softly, watching as Erik's body falls flat and motionless at the bottom of the pool. I'm by the edge of the water now, standing over the pool, looking down at Erik's still face. I'm too late. I was sent out here to stop them, to keep Raven, and now both are gone or have slipped away.

"What did you do?" I finish, looking up to Hank's face. We hold each other's gaze for a moment, the shutters of cameras and gasps of onlookers drowned out. Hank's eyes flicker, and it looks as if he's come back into himself. His wide, muscled hands begin to shake, and fear passes across his eyes.

He shouldn't have looked up. I shouldn't have said anything. The metal statues in the pool rise up, clasping over Hank's hands and neck, pulling him back off the body of Erik, who now seems very much alive.

I can't say anything to stop him, as another wire clasps itself around my wrist and wrenches me back, nearly pulling my shoulder out of it's socket. I land hard on the ground of the pool, water soaking through my clothes and tangling itself in my hair. The water drips down my neck as I look at Erik, eyes swimming with pain. He stands up, eyes cold and unforgiving. He looks down to me, but doesn't even seem to register who I am.

"Erik." my voice is hoarse. "Erik, please. Please stop this." His eyes flutter, and the metal around my wrist relaxes slightly, enough for me to sit up. I stare at him, hands shaking slightly. Erik looks to where the dark energy swirling on the cobblestones swim back to me, to their creator. His eyes find mine again, and they take in my softened features, the fear that most likely flashes across my pupils.

"See how they look at you, Leena." he says, and gestures to the many cameras focused on us.

"I don't need to." I reply.

He scoffs. "That's right, you can already feel what they think of you." He then points to the crowd. "Raven would have brought destruction to us all, gambling away our lives."

Now I scoff. "She didn't deserve to die."

"One life for many is a small price to pay." Erik says.

"Not one life." I answer, voice small. Erik jerks his head towards me, eyes narrowing. I stare up at him, guilt swimming in the pit of my stomach. For once, the emotion is entirely my own. Erik steps forward. Water drips down his face, plastering his dark hair to his head. His eyes widen.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

I shake my head, moving backwards, hands slipping under the water. The metal rubs my wrist raw. "Not just one life, Erik." I leave the rest unsaid, but it's clear enough what I mean. Erik staggers back, his face slack, and the metal loosens around my hand enough for me to slip it through. I bring it up with my other bandaged hand, now stinging from where the water has seeped through the wrap, cleaning the cuts on my knuckles.

"You...?" Erik starts, then shuts his mouth closed tightly. He looks down at the ground, then back up, determination settling in his bones. "Come with me, Leena." I close my eyes for a second, this moment hauntingly familiar. He's asked me this before, the same way, the same tone. It's gentle and rough, a plea instead of a command.

"I can't, Erik." I say, the words thick on my tongue. "You tried to kill raven." he grimaces. "I can't."

"I will make things right, Leena." he says, turning away, features stark. "I will make this right." He whirls around fully, stepping out of the fountain and onto the street. People are still screaming, still clambering to get out of his way. I watch him leave, eyes fixed on his stiff back. Soon, he disappears into the crowd.

I'm left sitting in the fountain, darkness swirling around me, heart burdened with regret.

✶

The oval office was packed to the brim. Stern men in black suits sat around in lounge chairs or standing with their arms crossed against their chests. Everyone had a stricken look on their faces, and the air around them all was dark.

Bolivar Trask, however, seemed to be the only elated person in the room.

"Yesterday, the Paris Peace summit was rocked by the appearance of unidentified assailants." the news reporter's voice carried throughout the room, loud and static. "The likes of which the world has never seen." Trask was glancing between the television and the man leaning forward to listen in front of him. "Mass hysteria has gripped the nation as people ask: 'where did they come from? Will they be back?'And most importantly, 'Are they friend or foe?'" there were four screens in front of them, and on each one, a video clip of the four assailants outside the building were pictured. At the top was the man who could fly, the man that caused the metal fences around him to shudder and twist. Next to the man on the other screen was a woman with blue skin and fiery red hair. Below her was a man with sapphire coloured fur, claws and large fangs.

But it was the girl to his left that interested Trask the most. She was young, not looking a day over 17, with curled hair as black as midnight, and shadows gathered around her like a blanket of evening draping itself over her shoulders. Trask could see her veins become black, her eyes turning the same foreboding shade, and when she reached out a hand, the world seemed to bend to her will.

Trasks still remembered the girl in the conference room, staring at him with so much rage Trask had genuinely felt a flicker of fear. He could feel her mutation wrapping itself around his mind, causing his limbs to freeze and an overwhelming sense of peace overtake him.

When the reporter was finished, President Nixon got up from his spot and moved towards his desk. "What the hell are we dealing with here? Off the record." Trask refrained himself from speaking up, letting the other correspondents begin before he could cut in and put them all in their place.

An older man with stark white hair stepped forward. "Two days ago, this man, Erik Lehnsherr, escaped from a maximum security prison inside the Pentagon. We believe that this woman," he was referring to the one with blue skin. "Is a former associate of Lehnsherr's. They, along with the young girl, were together in Cuba the day of the crisis in '62." the man put a black folder on the President's desk. "He was also implicated in Kennedy's assassination."

The President pointed to the screens. "What about that... thing?"

Another man, a general, from the looks of him, spoke up. "We don't know what that thing is, sir." he paused, then continued. "Actually, we really don't know what any of them are."

Now it was Trask's turn to speak up. "Yes. Yes, we do." all eyes were drawn to him as Trask walked steadily around the room towards the President. "They're mutants." the group around him murmured, losing interest, but Trask was steady to reel them back in.

He pointed to Lehnsherr. "He has the power to control metal. Last I checked that's what most of your weapons were made of." he then went to the woman. "She can transform into anyone. A general, a secret service man." he looked towards the desk. "Even you, Mr. President. She could walk into this office and order a nuclear stirke if she was... in the mood." The President glanced around suspiciously, however Trask was not done. "But that's not all. The young girl, who actually isn't that young at all." there were frowns.

"What do you mean?" the older man questioned.

"You said she was spotted in Cuba." Trask answered. "If my information was correct, witnesses saw a fifteen year old girl with black wings stopping the missiles from launching onto the bay."

"How do you know—"

"The point is, she ages slowly," Trask cut in. "she has the ability to control emotions and form them into that dark... substance." the President's eyebrows knitted together. "She could make you fall asleep, make you so angry you would kill your own children or wife." the men gasped. "She could even make you declare war, Mr. President, without even lifting a finger."

The room had gone deadly quiet.

"Well, do we have countermeasures?" the President asked. "Any defense?"

"I was waiting for you to ask me that question." Trask replied, placing the folder down onto the desk. The older man shifted from foot to foot.

"That's an experimental program, sir." he said cautiously. "Strictly off the books.'' The President paid him no mind and opened up the folder to trask's carefully drawn out plans.

After a moment, he said. "You're telling me these mutants are out in the world, and our best defense are these giant metal robots?"

"Many of the mutants..." Trask began. "Look like us. My Sentinels can tell the difference. I have eight prototypes ready to go. They're built out of space-age polymer, not an ounce of metal on them." There was a pause as the President looked to his superiors.

Then he said. "I wanna make a demonstration." he pointed to Trask. "I want the world to know that we can protect them." Trask made sure to hide his smug smile. "What do you need to get these things operational?"

"I already gave that number to Congress." Trask answer, giving a pointed look to the official sitting on the sofa. "Unfortunately they elected to shut me down. It's going to cost a bit more to turn them on."

"Whatever you need." the President said. Trask smiled.

"Oh," he said. "And one more thing." Trask turned to the screens, eyes gazing at the extraordinary beings before him. "If we do manage to capture the mutants," he pointed towards the screen, at the girl and woman now projected standing together talking. "I would like them." her turned back. "For research purposes, of course." 

AUTHOR'S NOTE...

well, well, well, if this wasn't another incredibly emotional chapter that was incredibly difficult to write... In all honesty though, I'm really proud of this chapter. It's short but sweet (well, not really), and I hope you guys liked it too. 

Thoughts on this chapter? As always, don't be afraid to like, comment, and follow me? 

Love, Mal