I'm not dead.  Ha ha ha.  Just a crappy writer.

DISCLAIMER: what the fuck do you think?  Oooh ohh, offensive language!

This is an Au featuring Ororo Munroe (Storm).  She hasn't developed her powers yet, and is a teenager still.  So please, all you XmenXtremists, don't hurt me too bad.  I also reserve the right to change whatever else I please.


Me and a Gun

A soft rain drizzled, creating something almost like a mist throughout the woods.  Jean Grey-Summers took a moment to appreciate the way the cool moisture met her skin, closing her eyes and breathing it all in. Scott Summers took her hand and continued down the beaten out path that was their favorite for early morning walks.                                                                                                                                     "I'm so happy we decided to walk today, even though it's drizzling," Jean murmured as she continued, fingers intertwined with her husband's.                                                                                                     "Me too, sweetie, me too.  It really is beautiful this morning," Scott replied.  "The weather forecast had said it'd be sunny for the rest of the week, but, I dunno, I kinda like it like this.  It makes me feel a little bit…" he waggled his eyebrows at his wife from behind his visor, "mysterious.  Maybe even a little dangerous."  Jean smiled at his little innuendo and, in response, drew him closer to her.                                     "Who knows what could happen," he continued, with a romantic edge to his voice, as the trail twisted though the woods, "to a beautiful young woman who was out here all alone…maybe a handsome stranger could…" He trailed off, leaving room for his wife to finish his thoughts.                                                        Jeans breathing was becoming uneven.  Even after being with Scott for over three years, he still had the same effect on her as he did when she first met him.  "Could do what?" she asked, turning to face him.                                                                                                                                                                                                         "He could…oh my God, was someone in a car accident?"                                                                             "Huh?" Jean asked, turning around to see what he was looking at.  "Oh my God," she said, echoing his sentiments.                                                                                                                                                            A black car was in a nearby ditch, with most of the windows broken with traces of blood on them.  Scott ran up to the vehicle and squatted down, trying to peer inside.  "Whoever it was, they left their purse in the car.  Do you think I should grab it and we should take it to the police?" he called out over his shoulder.  When he didn't hear a response, he stood up strait and turned around.  "Jean, did you hear me--oh my…" Scott trailed off, his jaw hanging open.                                                                                                                      There was his wife, looming over what appeared to be the body of a young girl, frantically checking for a pulse.  Scott took a grim note that the girl's skirt was pushed up past her hips, and that her bloodied underwear was down below her ankles.                                                                                                    "Is she…?"                                                                                                                                                                                  "No, her pulse is feint but I'm detecting very scattered brain patterns…it's the most unusual thing I've ever seen."                                                                                                                                                                     "Holy Jesus, look at her eyes," Scott whispered, crouching down by his wife.                                                            They were completely white.                                                                                                                     His stomach churned.  "How could someone do that, to a blind girl?"                                                                     His only response was a roll of thunder that seemed to grow louder, trying to consume everything in its path and suck it into its world of darkness and chaos.


Tubes.  That's all that she was aware of.  Tubes leading from her nose, tubes going into her mouth, running from her arms, all of them binding her down and keeping her a captive.  She tried to still her breathing, regulate it, because she felt the beginnings of a claustrophobia attack.  She kept her eyes shut and concentrated, trying to get her mind away from…from these snakes running through her body.  One, where am I, Two, how did I get here, Three, why am I here-it all came to her, but in pieces.  It was like someone was slowly rewinding a video, only Ororo couldn't make it stop.                                                                                          "Jean, what's wrong?" a voice had called out as Ororo felt her body being lifted from one place to another, then taking off on what must have been a gurney.  "We found her in the woods, Professor," a female voice answered back, worry emanating from her voice.  "Involved in a car accident.  Raped and beaten."  That's me.  Shit…raped and beaten.  What the fuck are they talking about?  "Beast is in the Medbay.  Do you think you two will be enough to help her?"  "We should be fine.  I did a mind scan earlier.  She's in critical condition right now, a coma, but she should live, although if we hadn't found her when we did…" "Enough said, Jean.  Just be thankful that you were in the right place at the right time."    Ororo shifted slightly.  That's weird…why do they think I'm a rape victim?  These people must have a screw loose or something.  Just then a throbbing pain caught her attention.  It seemed to rise out of nowhere and was attempting to tear her apart.  She stifled a scream.  It was coming from her groin.  Oh my goddess…what if…the truth…                                                                                                                                                      Ororo coughed and tried to keep the bile and spit from spilling out of her mouth.  A hard rain had started to fall, and she was helpless.  Her mind and thoughts were sucked back.  She was no longer filled with tubes, but she was back to where she had been earlier.  It was all still there.  Even with her eyes closed, she could smell it: her blood in the air, on her skin, and soaking through the earth.  She laid her head against the cool earth once again, and tried to…to anything.  Think, feel, breathe, move…she couldn't do anything.  She wasn't a human anymore.  She was numb.  From her tainted and battered outside to her violated inside to her very spirit, she was nothing but cold.   Only one thought seemed to run through her head, it seemed to not even be a word, but simply the only state in which she had ever existed.  Dirty.  The rain poured down now, soaking her body through to the bone, but she felt none of it.  She was beyond feeling, beyond human.  Dirty.                                                                                                                                       "Hank, something's wrong!" Jean cried out as the beeping of machines awoke her from her light slumber.  She had been catnapping, on and off, ever since they had brought in this young girl, Keisha Henry, two days ago.  She had barely aloud herself to leave the room, keeping a constant vigilance.                  "What is it, Jean?"  Beast asked, coming into the room and immediately immersing himself in the most recent printouts from the machines.                                                                                                                              "Her blood pressure is raising, so is her heart rate…it's almost like she's-"                                              "She's seizing.  Tilt her over and hold her steady.  If she vomits, she'll choke," was the calm response from Hank, as he prepared to remove her intubations tube.                                                                                   The girl's slight frame violently shook back and forth, her arms jerking about in an unnatural way.  Jean held onto the young girl's shoulders, trying desperately to keep her still while her body convulsed and shook to a rhythm that no one but her could sense.  Each time her head rolled back, it was almost like the girl's hair, a color that was obviously dyed, seemed to get bigger and bigger.                                                    "Beast, something's-" Jean was cut off as an electrical shock sent her flying back, leaving her to land unceremoniously on her backside.  She took a moment to right herself and then looked up.  All of Hank's fur stood on end, and he slowly backed away from the young girl with a look of fear and fascination on her face.    Jean followed his stare and found her mouth gaping on its own accord.                                     Keisha was there, floating above the bed with fields of electricity snapping and crackling around her.  She seemed unaware of it, yet her eyes were still wide open.  It was her eyes that brought the fear to Beast, and to Jean.  Those unnatural white, blind eyes, that seemed to see everything and everyone all at once.                                                                                                                                                                                      The girl's mouth slowly opened, as her body continued to contort itself in the air, the jerky movements of her legs and arms making her move in small paces around her bed.  The first thing Jean noticed was that all the glass on the windows seemed to have…not cracks exactly, but almost as if a thousand spiders had all started spinning perfect, tiny webs all at once, using the glass as their canvas.  The beeping of all the monitors seemed to die down, and that's when the sound finally hit her.  Her scream.  Keisha was screaming, and it was almost as if everything was screaming with her, trying to share her pain.  Jean winced and reached up to cover her ears, as Keisha's screams echoed throughout the mansion, causing everyone to shudder as a group and wonder what was going on.                                                                              


He was sitting on the ledge of his window, his hands caught up doing their usual ritual that he hardly had to pay them any mind to know that he was doing everything perfectly.  He sighed and leaned against the wooden frame of the window, letting his eyes rest upon the maple tree only a few yards away from him.  It was another lazy day for him, and he had nothing better to do than let this hands work as he zoned out.         Kings on top, then Queens…or should the aces go on first?  He sighed and continued shuffling.  Might as well get the aces on top, would take him a little longer.  Would occupy his time a little bit more.      Remy focused in on one particular maple leaf, a little brown around the edges.  That's how he felt.  Dull and lifeless.  I wish something would happen 'round here.  Who woulda thought the life of young, dashingly handsome mutant like me could end up being so…boring?  Sometimes I just wanna scream.                  It was almost as if diving intervention had taken place, because at that moment, a shrill scream, full of anger, sorrow, rage, so many emotions that Remy's empathy made his stomach immediately cramp up, pierced his ears.  "Mon dieu, what is that?" he cried, looking around to try and find its source.   His eyes scanned the grounds, and finding nothing, he hurriedly swung his legs over and back inside.  He intended to find out who was bellowing like a banshee.                                                                                                                The maple tree heard the scream, too.  The only way it could think to show sympathy with it was to let its leaves drop, one by one until only the one with the browned edges was left.  It, too, broke off from its mother, and slowly floated down onto the ground, where it would be forgotten and eventually die, with the only cries of remorse on its behalf coming from the girl who screamed not only for her life, but theft of it.

That's it for now.  You know the drill….REVIEW FOR THE LOVE OF JESUS/MOHAMMED/BUDDHA/KRISHNA/GREEN MAN/ MOSES/ISHTAR!  Many thanks, and I love you all even more for it!