This is a try on a new story idea! Remy shall indeed be along shortly. But stories have to start somewhere.. and here is the beginning.
Reviews are very much appreicated. Thanks in advance.
I Got My Reasons
It was a decision that felt like a lifetime to decide. But as Jean placed her foot on the top step of the lowered staircase, she promised herself that there was no going back. She couldn't help but look over her shoulder, to see the rest of the team fighting for their survival. Her eyes focused immediately on Scott. Her fiancé. He would never forgive her for this. But then, her eyes settled upon Logan. Whilst he would hate the idea, she knew inside he would respect her decision, in time.
Every step was pained as her broken leg twinged. Telekinetic bonds had managed to place together the shatters of her bone, but the pain was still inevitable. She tried to keep her face clear from winces and frustration as she descended the stairs. Jean fought to hold her expression with confidence and pride, to leave with a fighting sacrifice.
"Jean?" Scott's voice sounded from inside the jet. It didn't take long for the panic to take over his voice, "Jean!" She looked back as she stepped out into the snow, only seeing his distraught face as she raised a hand and the steps swiftly closed themselves. "Lower the ramp!" demanded his distant voice, "We're not leaving without her!"
I'm sorry.. she thought desperately, trying to push that through everyone's mind, let them know, make them understand. Her eyes opened as she walked out slowly in front of the Jet. She kept the desperate tearful emotions pushed back as she glared with a vicious determination at the distant dam wall. She could see larger chunks of concrete splintering like dry wood. Her hands were shaking as she raised them up, fingers spreading from the palm as she prepared herself for the next onslaught. She had to be focused. Be ready.. She inhaled a deep cold breath, eyes closing temporarily before she once more reopened them. With this being her last sight of the world, she made sure to let her gaze linger on the landscape of startling white snow that was dotted with sleek islands of picturesque green pine trees. The sky above was a pearly blue, the sun shone, but no heat came into the wintry surroundings.
There was nothing more naturally beautiful she wished to lay her eyes on last. Her last look at the world. Then, suddenly, before Jean even knew what had happened, an explosion engulfed her ears. The dam wall had broken and the fear clenched her stomach as she saw torrents of raging water tumble and rage high over the treetops. The landscape was flattened beneath the almighty tirade. This was it, this was her time. Almost without thought, her hand tensed and with a pulse of energy a glow burst from her palm that heaved with the kinetic energy. She abruptly jerked her other hand behind her, palm upwards as her fingers bent. The Jet began to leave the floor as she gave it the external power it needed.
The water hit. With a muffled cry Jean forced the water to divert either side of her and around the Jet. Her head felt like it would burst under the concentration as she caused the Jet to rise higher, reaching above the water. Still the water flowed around her standing form, the winds had increased in horrendous billowing whirlwinds that mixed with the water to send sprays cascading over her small form inside the mountainous waves.
With one last breath of the air, the power faded from Jean's hands, and she lowered her arms and closed her eyes, and allowed the thunderous waves to break down upon her body, snapping her bones like brittle wood.
The huge gasp for air continued as Jean threw up her bowed head, eyes opened, wide and startled. The first thought to cross her mind was: is this death? She looked around her slowly; eyes taking in the scene of something Jean had never imagined an afterlife to be. A small dark cell surrounded her, mediocre light spilling in through a small barred slot in what was a metal door. She looked down at herself slowly, noticing that she was still in her X-Men uniform. She frowned, in absolute confusion. Was the hell was she? Is this a heaven? A hell? Even though Jean had never really believed in these things, there was a subconscious yearn for a peace after death. She shook her head a moment, attempting to knock the hair from her eyes that was obscuring a good clear view of the room that held her. A hand moved from above her head in a bid to reach these irritating strands, but with a surprised gasp, she found that both of her hands were shackled above her head against the wall, as were her feet. Ankles were fastened to the cold metal bench she sat upon.
With a determined and ultimately frustrated grunt, Jean tossed her hair, scarlet fringe flying back so she could see the room. She looked to her left and let out a soft cry. Scott! He was sat beside her on the bench a foot away. His wrists too were chained to the wall above his head and his ankles to the bench they sat upon. But whilst Jean was awake, Scott had his head bowed. The muscles of his face were slack; this showed quite clearly that he wasn't conscious. With growing apprehension, Jean turned her eyes off her fiancé and looking around the rest of the cell. Through the slowly clearing darkness she noticed that the rest of the X-Men also sat around the four walls, chained and unconscious in the singular running bench against the concrete walls.
Then, in the centre of the room, in a large mechanised wheelchair was Mutant 143 – Jason Stryker. His oddly coloured eyes stared unfocusedly at the opposite wall as the tubes and contained on his back pumped the special mind controlling fluid. Immediately, the knowledge poured in on her. Some of the previous events hadn't been genuine; some had been in her head. She could still feel her broken leg causing her pain. Some things were real.
But the only question was.. when had their reality ended?
Short? Yes. Cliffhanger? Yes.
Review? I jolly well hope so!