Set in way-current continuity -- a few more responses to 'M-Day' and Wanda's little handiwork. Please r/r...

Somethin' About A Dream

"If I didn't know it, Mr. Summers," the woman before the first X-Man grinned, "I'd say you were almost content."

Grabbing her hand, Summers pulled the woman into his chest, looking down at her with a broad smile. "It's good to be back where I belong… that's all, Jean."

Her green eyes sparkled as she spoke, the woman running her hand down his chest and finally grabbing his hand. The two locked fingers, Jean pulling back to look into Scott's eyes. "You know the drill."

Cyclops hesitated but didn't verbally refuse, pulling his visor off and looking into the eyes of his wife. The redhead smiled as she kept his optic blast at bay.

"You always know just what to say."

"I didn't say any—"

"Exactly," Jean grinned.

Cyclops leaned in to kiss her—but upon pulling back, looked into the face of Emma Frost.

"Good morning, Scott."

"Emma," Scott cleared his throat, "I was just—"

"—dreaming about me? How sweet," she sighed, rolling over and reaching for a glass of water. "And yes, it's just water… though something a little stronger wouldn't hurt."

Summers sighed, pulling himself out of bed and walking to the window. The X-Man sighed once more as he looked outside—four giant sentinels meeting his reddened vision. "I don't know how much longer I can deal with this."

"So you keep saying, dear," Frost quipped. "Why don't you get over it or do something? You're the damned leader of this little group, aren't you?"

"Emma, what in the hell is—"

"If you're going to salivate so loudly in your sleep, Scott, I would appreciate it if you would sleep elsewhere. Perhaps in another state?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"How many nights has this made, Scott?"


"How many in a row, even?"

"I told you before, I have no control over what I dream. You're being absolutely—"

"—am I? Is it so ridiculous to be concerned when the man you're in love with dreams of some deceased witch every single night for the past two weeks? Or is she even deceased...? Perhaps she's flying around space—what with that last incident…"


"…I mean, good Lord, Scott. I don't even have the slightest comfort that she's out of the picture now. Having tasted the damnable Phoenix Force myself, I can tell you that—"


"Goddamnit, Emma."

Frost looked to her left where the alarm clock used to be—and then watched Scott Summers leave the room.

"We're all under considerable stress," Hank McCoy said into the small mouthpiece. "I really do think it would work wonders if you returned, Ororo."

"It is as I told Scott, Henry," the weather Goddess replied from the other end of the line, "I can hardly call myself a hero if I abandon the people who need me the most."

McCoy hesitated. "I suppose we are being a bit greedy…though I have to admit, Ororo, I certainly hope that this has less to do with a certain cat-like Avenger than some are suggesting…"

"Why Henry," Ororo mused, "you're certainly the only cat-like Avenger I've had any contact with in some time."

Beast chuckled, Ororo returning the sound with her own laughter.

After a short pause, Storm spoke more solemnly. "Has there been any word on Charles?"

"Not a damn thing," Scott Summers said bluntly as he stared at the headstone in front of him. "I don't know, Jean… every time I think I almost have it down – every time I think I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing…"

Cyclops paused, his face collapsing into his hands as he sat with his knees to his chest in the dirt. "We used to joke about this.

We used to say that if the Professor ever really 'passed the torch' that that's when all the really hard stuff would happen.

What in the hell did Wanda do to us, Jean? You know, Magneto lost his powers… and I don't even care. I don't get it. I mean, I thought I saw Logan kill him months ago… but the Xorn… who was never really Xorn… who we thought was Magneto… wasn't really Magneto… I mean, what the hell's wrong with this world?

Why can we pinpoint Erik Lensherr in all of this mess… but not one of us – not one – not even Emma using Cerebra – can find Professor Xavier."

Cyclops turned, looking into the wooded area that surrounded Jean's memorial. "Thought I heard something."

Waiting a moment more, Scott ran his fingers across "SHE WILL RISE AGAIN" and continued. "Peter's alive – Betsy's alive… Ororo's in Africa and won't come home. She says she is home… for the first time in a long time.

We can't find Warren… his companies haven't even heard from him in weeks. Lord only knows what's going on with Bobby.

Professor Xavier was going to make you Headmistress… and I'm beginning to see why."

"Save the self-doubt thing for me – I think it's more fitting," Alex Summers said as he walked up behind his older brother. He extended his hand, pulling Scott to his feet.

The elder brother smiled. "…I'm trying to have a conversation, Alex."

"Isn't it a little early to be up? And no offense, bro – but it's with an empty grave."

"As I recall, 'bro' – I had many a conversation with yours."

"…remind me to never run for Headmaster, then, 'cause you clearly have some issues."

The two laughed together.

"Thanks, Alex. I needed that."

"Ah'm just not gonna get used to that," Rogue shook her head as she closed her curtain once more. She turned to face Remy LeBeau.

"S'definitely gonna take some getting' used to," Gambit replied as he slipped on his trench coat. "Like watchin' you runnin' 'round like you been spendin' too much time wit' Pyro or somethin'."

"Very funny, Remy," Rogue rolled her eyes as she fell backwards onto her bed. "You know everything ah went through with Shiro…"

"…an' you know dat if I stop jokin', de world's really gonna be in trouble."

The two sat in silence for a moment, Gambit joining her on her bed.

"…why do you think it didn't affect either of us?"

"S'like askin' why de sky is de sky or de bayou's de bayou. Why anyting?"

"I just feel so bad, Remy. Here ah've cursed mah powers from damn near day one… I've rarely ever wanted 'em… and all these reports poppin' up about dead mutants… unable t'live without their powers… It just ain't right."

Gambit placed his hand on Rogue's gloved one. "S'why we're X-Men, Rogue… cuz de world just ain't right."

Rogue wrapped her fingers around Gambit's hand and squeezed.

"B'sides, it ain't like our home's surrounded by giant robots dat were originally programmed to kill us just for bein' born de way we were."

Rogue sighed. "Remy LeBeau… what am ah gonna do with you?"

Gambit winked. "You want de list?"

"Do we have one yet, Hank?"

"We're nearly there, Emma," McCoy turned, giving a yawn as he did so. "I've been up all night trying to populate one. From your Cerebra accounts and reports coming in from across the world… we nearly have a list of every known mutant who's been affected by the events of 'M-Day.'"

"What a preposterous name," Frost sighed.

"Compliments of the press, as ever," Beast spoke.

"And do you have any word on Jono?"

"His vitals remain ever the same, I'm afraid. The machine Forge and I created is keeping him alive – and our friends who've been graciously housing him have continued to re-administer blood to his system…"

"We need to get him to the Institute."

"Agreed – but it will take some time. Now that we're certain the equipment is fully-functional…"

"I hate thinking that the poor boy is in the hands of some… random…" Emma bit her lip.

Arching an eyebrow, McCoy eyed his teammate.

"…humans," Frost finished.

Hank was taken aback – but before he could say anything –

"…the last time I checked, we're all human."

"Kitty," Hank nodded.

Frost and Pryde exchanged glares. "I've re-wired the computers into Cerebra so that the database can be more accurately built, Hank."

"Excellent. It shouldn't be much longer then, Emma."


"Isn't it a bit early to be drinking, mein freund?" Kurt Wagner said as he approached his longtime friend in one of the lounges.

"S'never too early, Elf… s'never too early."

"…do you have another?"

Logan snickered, reaching into the box of beer beside his chair and pulling out a lukewarm can. Nightcrawler snickered as well. "You know, we have a refrigerator."

"We also have peace an' quiet 'til people like you show up."

Kurt cleared his throat and looked away.

"I'm just kiddin', don't be so—"

"—that makes two of us, Logan," Wagner smiled.

The two sat in silence for a moment after sharing a brief laugh.

"I guess this is the part where we talk about Charlie or those robots out there and how depressing life is, huh?"

Nightcrawler grinned. "We could talk about the unexpected resurrection of Piotr or Elizabeth if you'd prefer… perhaps what it means for each of us."

"Throw in a touch of 'do you think your mother's still a mutant' and we're there."

"…remind me why we're X-Men again, Logan?"

"Well, I'm here cuz the Avengers pay just under what I need… and I can't take all'a you chumps with me… mutant quota an' all. I kinda like havin' some of you around. And somethin' about a dream."

Nightcrawler and Wolverine stared out the window at the large robots surveying the grounds.

"Ja," Kurt said quietly...

"Somethin' about a dream," Cyclops muttered, turning away from the headstone, flashing his visor toward a Sentinel and heading back to the mansion.