Into the Fire - Part 2
Posted on Thu Mar 7th, 2024 @ 1:50pm by Scott Summers & Jean Grey
4,333 words; about a 22 minute read
Mission:
Episode 4: The Savage ConneXion
Location: Krakoa
Timeline: August 30th, 1990
The entire nation was reeling from Senator Kelly's assassination. Worse than that was the inability to process the situation as it evolved the sociopolitical landscape due to the electrical storms in the magnetosphere which were wreaking havoc with everything from satellite dishes to broadcast towers. Telecommunications worldwide had been cut off.
As a result, Telford couldn’t help but pace as he waited behind The Beat Street Club. He was having his doubts, while the idea of financial support was appealing, the notion of heading into a dangerous situation was daunting, and this was a hell of a time in which to do it. He hadn't been actively using his teleportation since being released from prison, aside from the occasional tight spot he ended up in, so he was no where near as good as he was during his cat burglar days. Not to mention he was about to be working with Cyclops, a mutant's face that he had imagined beating to a pulp on more than one occasion. He couldn't help but feel like this could be a trap or some insane suicide mission—Cyclops even admitted to being solo, so what if he had cracked? Porter had agreed to help, but in reality he knew he didn't have much choice in the matter, so he thought about the kids and what good might come out of all of this. How badly they needed clothes for the winter and how nice it would be to buy something other than bologna for sandwiches. He would do this for them.
Reaching the end of the alley he turned heel and started to walk back again, just in time to see a red Jeep pulling in.
Scott stepped out of the Jeep in the same jacket he wore the night before. Instead of his glasses, though, he wore his X-Men visor and headwrap. His blue tactical suit was beneath his jacket. When he walked up to Telford, gone was the desperate man who had begged and pleaded for help. This was Cyclops, the living stonewall who neither flinched nor hesitated. “Are you ready?” he asked, looking Telford up and down.
Telford frowned as he looked over Cyclops. This was the X-Man he remembered from his take down, stone-faced and taciturn. Porter no longer owned his sleek costumes and gear, as they had been lost a long time ago. Being dressed in black was the best he had to offer. “Yeah, I reviewed the coordinates you gave me as well as a map. I haven’t made a jump this big since I was The Vanisher but it should be fine.”
Not a statement that instilled a lot of fate in Porter but he was all Scott had.
“It will get really dark but only for a second. Don’t let it freak you out so you punch me or something, it’s normal.” Telford warned as he squared his shoulders and braced himself for teleporting the two of them.
With a deep inhale Telford envisioned the tiny island on the map, he though about the distance between them and the South Pacific, how vast the ocean was and how far one would have to travel to get there. He tensed and exhaled loudly before a sharp snap of darkness surrounded them before the two were standing in a densely forested island in the South Pacific.
“Is this what you were expecting?” Porter asked while adjusting to the hot, muggy air of the tropics.
“I don’t know,” Scott replied. Had he been here before? “I have no memory of this place. Yet…” He was about to take step forward but paused with a hand on Telford’s chest. “... something is wrong. The vegetation is not natural. Watch very carefully where you step. And don’t make sudden noises.”
Scott instinctively held a hand to his visor as he visually scanned the area. No threats presented themselves, but his gut was tightening into knots. He had been here before. That feeling screamed at him. Danger was everywhere. But to his natural eyes, there was nothing but tropical jungle and even that seemed sparse. At least avoiding trip vines and roots should be easy enough.
“Do you see anything?” Scott asked his companion.
“See anything!?” Porter tensed and began to defensively glare at the plants around them. “Yeah, I see a lot of plants everywhere. Hell of a time to tell me that the vegetation is dangerous." In a near panicked state, Telford took a step backwards and his foot snapped a twig. With lightning speed a seemingly sentient length of vine wrapped around his ankle and tugged him to the ground. Telford screamed in surprised as he smacked onto the ground, gaining the attention of more vines in the area
“Shit!” Scott shot a tight beam at the vine and ripped off the dead portion. He grabbed Telford by the hand. “Come on!” he said. “Keep us moving or this place will trap us!”
“Shit!” Telford repeated Cyclops’ sentiments as he quickly withdrew his leg from vine while being jerked to his feet. It took him a second to process his words, they had to keep moving.
“Uh, yeah!” Porter scanned the horizon and moved them to a new patch of forest. He continued jumping them from location to location in hopes of averting more angry jungle. They moved through a valley of red flowers that smelled like rot, near a lake lined with barbed jungle plants, a canyon with ferns that burned to the touch, until the tall rim of a volcano came into few. With a final snap through the darkness they arrived on the lava rock ridge rather than vegetation covered area of the island.
“Are the…” Telford hunched over and placed his hands in his knees while he panted and attempted to catch his breath. He was definitely out of shape, so much teleportation left him panting and shaking. “Are the rocks dangerous?”
“I don't remember,” Scott said honestly. “But I think this whole place is alive somehow. The entire island. We're like fleas on its backside. If Jean is here, then she's got to be some kind of structure. She couldn't be out here in the open.” Looking at Telford, he asked, “How do you move through walls? Do you have… I don't know... some kind of echolocation that keeps you from teleporting into solid matter?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Telford caught his breath and stood up again “I can just kind of tell if I’m teleporting into solid matter. I just shift until I know I’m in a good position.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Black had been a bad choice. “Do you have something in mind? All I see is rocks, a beach and a terrible jungle. Are you sure this is even the right place?”
A grimace came over Scott's face. He really wasn't sure either way. “Something about it is terribly familiar. Let's get under the rock cover there. Can you get us out of the cave system if that proves just as dangerous?”
Before Telford could answer, Scott felt a sudden spike of bittersweet pain in the side of his head. Could it be?
“Jean…” Her name came out as a whisper. She was here. He could feel it, balls to bone. He clamped down on his eyes and focused on her. Jean's name, Jean’s face, Jean's unique psychic signature that he could identify blindfolded.
~Jean!~ Scott cried out her name from the center of his being. Every tear he had shed, every pang of guilt and loss he had felt since her absence, every ounce of pain in his soul erupted in the measly thought that his non-telepathic mind put out.
Scott wasn’t greeted by a single voice but instead a cacophony of Jean’s voice responded to his call.
~ ‘Scott?’ ~
~ ‘He’s here.’ ~
~ ‘Wake her up’ ~
~ ‘Scott?’ ~
~ ‘Wake her up’ ~
~ ‘You have to wake up’ ~
~ ‘Scott?’ ~
~ ‘He’s here.’ ~
Jean could barely hear the familiar voices that called to her. Between the drugs that flooded her system and the collar she wore, her telepathy had been dampened to a mere parlor trick. But the dozens of shouting voices persisted until she finally stirred enough to process what they were saying.
- ‘Scott… is here…wake up’ -
Her green eyes snapped open as she realized what that meant.
For months she had screamed and called into a void of nothingness, desperate for anyone to hear her, to come free her. But no one ever came. As weeks passed, her torture had become worse and worse and she was sure she was going to die here, ripped apart along with the many faces that looked just like her own. So Jean had stopped her screaming and her fighting and submitted to the pain and experimentation all while hoping that her body would give out before they found whatever it was about her that warranted her torture. It was in one of those earlier moments of torture and death, where she had once screamed for help, that out of her forlorn nostalgia she had managed to contact Scott. But their contact had been brief. Why had he seemed confused? No, Scott felt like he was lost when she had spoken to him. The communication had given her some hope but it wasn't until right now, when the room full of voices started to scream his name, that Jean knew for certain that her everything, her Scott had finally found her.
The rush of adrenaline in her body gave her the surge of energy she needed to sit up. Her head was swimming and her limbs felt like cement, but she pushed through the haze and pulled herself up to her feet. Her atrophied legs wobbled as she tried to walk to the door.
-* ‘Scott! I’m in the lab’ *~ Jean telepathically screamed the words but they came out as a meek whisper.
Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, her head spinning from the overexertion.
It was that damn collar that stopped her from reaching him, without it around her neck she could speak to him. Jean began to claw and yanks on the band around her neck to no avail. It wouldn't budge and then panic and desperation flooded her mind. If she didn’t get out now, she may never. Scott had come for her; Jean had to get to him.
Her heart raced as she continued to claw at the collar while attempting to stand up again. It was all too much—she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t get out, she would die here and never see Scott again. Her death began to become a reality, that dark and permanent numbness of death, to never see Scott again, to fight so hard only for it to end like this. She would die alone and scared and in pain just like Annie. Jean began to hyperventilate as her hands shook and her mind reeled in panic.
Then, that unfamiliar yet familiar ripple of power appeared to her again. A deep well of something raw and raging beckoned to her. Jean eagerly reached for that power, happily tumbling into it and giving it the freedom it always sought. Angry destruction that begged to consume, to burn and destroy. The power filled her and warmed her, turning her panic and fear into a raging fire. Jean ignited with that wildfire, letting it burn the collar from her neck along with everything else in her proximity.
Once freed from the collar, Jean let that power flow through her and consume everything in its path.
A scream ripped through Scott and Telford’s minds like a horrible shredding sound that brought them to their knees in pain. It was the sound of hate and anger, a scream of pleasure for administering revenge, the cry of a cornered animal finally tearing itself free. The sound tore through their minds as a ripple of power accompanied the scream, a blast of energy that made their bones tremble. Such violent power, they were left with little choice but to cower until it stopped.
Once the scream finally abated, the explosions started. Over on the green side of the volcanic ridge, a blast of fire crumbled rocks and ignited the jungle. A hundred yards closer to them another explosion blasted the rockface apart, showing them the path to a new cavernous entry point.
“There!” Scott pointed once he had recovered from the mind-searing scream. Vertigo threatened to overtake him but forced his vision clear. “There's a lab inside. Jean… Jean is inside.”
Scott started running for the excavation with or without Telford. This was why he was here. It was the sum of so many hopes and fears come to life. Fatigue meant nothing. Dizziness meant nothing. The damned spore clinging to his neck meant nothing. Scott ripped off whatever it was and flung it to the ground while he sprinted for that excavated cave.
“Move your ass, Telford!” It was the only status check Scott thought to make. As indebted as he was to the other man and needed his help to get out of here, no one should have to be told to flee explosions.
By the time Scott reached the opening, his wind was all but spent. He dove inside the cave for whatever protection it might offer. While he heaved air from the ground like it was going out of style, he looked for any sign of Telford.
Telford almost bailed. He almost left Cyclops and that horrible scream that shredded his mind. That pain, that anger, whatever was inside that building was a terrifying monster. But then he remembered the deal he made and he appeared beside Scott, teleporting his way to the safety of the cave rather than running alongside him.
“Good God, what the hell was that?” Telford clutched his now aching head. Watching the rocks tumble and the jungle burning, he felt a knot of discomfort forming in his stomach. This mission was already getting too dangerous, and whatever caused those explosions and punched through their minds may do it again. This wasn't just a scouting mission any longer. This wasn't what Porter agreed to. “You don’t think she’s alive in there, do you?”
Scott looked at Telford incredulously. “You didn't hear her?” For a moment, Jean had been all Scott could hear. “Whatever. She's in there and I'm going for her. This whole island is going up. We won't have another chance.”
Darting into the darkness, Scott picked his way through the rubble and debris. He had to blast a few narrow openings into wider ones. There were broken bodies along the way—a gnarled hand jutting through the rocks here, a twisted arm there, and those were only the more identifiable parts that Scott caught in his peripheral vision.
There had been an entire complex down here. Whatever it had been was ruined. Normally Scott would stop and search for evidence of who had been here and what they had been doing. The further he ran into the complex, the more technical equipment he noticed, but he passed it all by as he had the mangled bodies.
Jean was the objective here. She was the only objective. Following the telepathic call of her voice, Scott ran between corridors and hallways without considering left or right. He didn't take elevators. The few times he descended were through punching his own hole in the floor.
Lungs burning from dead sprinting and ash in the air, Scott finally pushed through to where Jean's telepathic summons felt strongest. The echo of her voice was almost audible. He found himself inside a cell block with a number of locked rooms.
“Jean?” he called out, his voice hoarse and raspy. He'd blast through each and every one of them if needs be.
Telford shook his head as he watched the now frantic Cyclops blast and dash through the fire-ravaged facility. There was no woman in that scream that invaded their minds. In the past, this man had been with the X-Men, but he did this mission alone. Maybe he was exiled? Crazy? He had called himself desperate but maybe the desperation came from the fact that his request had been futile, that everyone else knew this guy was nuts and Porter was just the sucker who fell for it. He was starting to doubt everything Cyclops had said. There was no money, no reward, he had been roped into a scam.
“Man, forget it, you're nuts.” Telford shook his head in disapproval. Porter turned his thoughts toward home and The Beat Street Club. He moved to snap, to find the momentary darkness before ending up at home. But the snap never came. Telford Porter materialized straight into the barrier that shielded the lab, a proverbial razor wire fence set up specially for teleportation. His body and mind were annihilated, turned into nothing more than a fine misty cloud of blood. The man once known as The Vanisher was gone, his fear and lack of faith in Scott had been his downfall. He didn’t even have the chance to scream.
Scott would have reacted to the sudden death of Porter but a weak, small cry from the burning corridor caught his attention.
“Scott!” It was Jean, her voice coming from deeper inside the lab.
Running towards the sound of her voice, the rubble and broken bodies stopped and everything became charred. Blackened ash blanketing the halls were the burned remnants of the former building.
The halls opened up to the open space of ground zero for the blast. A massive hole punched above them, showing the sky and the black billowing smoke from the fire on the ridge.
Jean knelt in the center of the blast circle, desperately trying to get to her feet but failing to find the strength to stand. She was battered and dirty and dressed in a filthy hospital gown. She looked more like a patient than a prisoner. But it was unmistakably her.
“Scott!” she called once more as he finally came into view. The reality of him took over and Jean crumbled in relief.
“Jean…” The fact that Telford Porter had gotten himself killed no longer mattered. Scott had seen to the financial endowment before they'd left. All that mattered was the beautiful, pitiful crumpled form in front of him.
Dashing to her side, Scott scooped her up far too easily. He should have been exhausted but adrenaline was pulling from his reserves. Even so, Jean was barely more than a feather. She was pale and gaunt but he still had never seen a more beautiful sight.
Now that he had her, though, he fell short on what to do next. His exit strategy had gotten himself splattered against whatever barrier remained around this lab. The hard run Scott had made to get here wasn't happening with Jean over his shoulder, especially with all the twists, turns, and climbs. He wasn't even confident in his ability to navigate the labyrinth of twisted metal and burned out corridors, guided as he had been through Jean’s mental call.
Looking around, he saw no real alternative. There was just the way he'd come, the new skylight more than fifty feet up, and the smoothed granite under his feet. Just as he was preparing to risk the labyrinth, his last observation gave him an idea. It was insane but right now he was short on options.
If the granite was bedrock, then it just might work. Otherwise he was about to find out if this subterranean lab had a sublevel.
“If you can hear me, Jean, don't let go.”
Not that anything could pry her frame out of his grasp. First he had to test his theory. He'd never done it to this degree before. Hopping in place, he fired off a sustained beam at the granite from midair. The equal and opposite reaction rebounded off the granite and propelled him nearly ten feet high. Nowhere near enough.
But if he could get higher. There was some twisted scaffolding from the destroyed lab setup in here. Scott carefully picked his way to the top of the debris pile with Jean balanced over his shoulder.
Maybe he really was insane, but only death waited back the way he'd come. Even if he got them back through the demolished complex, there was no way he could fight through the jungle alone. This was their only chance. While Jean was dead weight, he was grateful she wasn't awake to see what he was about to attempt.
Scott closed his eyes, said a prayer to anyone listening, and jumped from the broken scaffolding, clutching Jean's hips tightly against his chest. At the apex of his jump, he ripped his visor off and loosed a full beam at the granite below him, eyes blazing with raw energy.
Dust and pea sized pebbles flew up as the full force of his optic blast blitzed the island’s bedrock. It only managed to bevel out a shallow divot. The rest of the kinetic force was redirected back up into Scott's body like a chain of uppercuts that threw him several dozen feet high and Jean along with him.
Immune as he was to his own power, he still had his lights knocked out. The steep parabolic arc of their journey nearly ended as messily as Porter’s ill-fated retreat, but instead of falling back inside the lab, they crested the edge of the crater Jean had made.
The couple rolled end over end over soft-packed soil together a few times until they came to rest below a tree. Scott unfolded his clamshell visor and put it back over his face. When he blinked the world back into focus and saw the tree, he felled it with a single blast. Nothing around here was trustworthy.
“Jean? Are you okay?”
He did his best to check for vitals but right now he wasn't doing so great either. The ridge line was catching fire. Normally that would be bad but when surrounded by hostile vegetation and swarms of angry insects, the edge of the inferno was perhaps the safest place to be on the whole island.
Scott choked on the acrid fumes, so he tore off his sleeves and made makeshift face covers for them both. It would do nothing for the smoke inhalation but might spare them from some of the larger lung-shredding particulates in the air as he limped and carried Jean further up the ridge.
The fire got a little too close for comfort, so Scott beat it back with a few wide beam dispersals against the ground on which it spread. He couldn't keep at this forever. What were they going to do?
Jean struggled to regain consciousness as Scott begged for her to respond. The use of that raw power always left her exhausted; it burned through her mind like it did her surroundings. Combined with the sedatives that still clouded her mind, it made slipping into a black, dreamless oblivion so inviting. His fear and uncertainty is what pulled her back to a semi-lucid state. Jean reached up and touched him, a feather soft gesture that immediately brought all his attention towards her.
“How did you get here first?” She seemed confused by his worry, like she knew something he didn’t. “The Professor says he is still ten minutes away. How did you get here before the Blackbird?”
“Long story,” Scott said before her other words registered. When they did, he did a double take. “Professor? He's here?!” The news made him sink to his knees in exhausted relief. It was going to be alright. They were going to survive.
Scott began looking to the sky, north by northeast mainly but he didn't spare any other direction. He had no idea how the Professor could be right around the corner with the Blackbird but he wasn't going to argue. How long had he been here? It would take a conventional jet hours and hours to get from New York to the South Pacific. Did Cerebro…? It didn't matter. They were going home.
At first there was no sound or even a visual profile of the passing aircraft. Just a streak overhead that whizzed by fast enough to kick up dirt and change the direction of the wildfire by the force of its air displacement alone.
The sonic boom came later. It sounded like cannonade. Scott was grateful for the clamshell visor over his head but he covered Jean's ears just to be certain. By the time the sound of bombardment subsided, the Blackbird finally decelerated enough to turn about and come back over the ridge.
Scott loosed a beam into the sky for a makeshift flare. The Professor clearly had a fix on them but every little bit would help. Every second longer they spent on this wretched island suddenly felt like an eternity.
“He's here, Jean,” Scott said, his voice cracking under extreme emotion and exhaustion. “ Professor Xavier is here.”
The VTOL capability engaged, allowing the Blackbird to hover overhead. A familiar blue body leapt down from the hatch on a harness, took them both in his furry arms, and activated the recoil mechanism. Before they knew it, the burning ground fell away before them as they were taken inside the Blackbird's fuselage.
“We made it,” Scott whispered. He could barely believe it. If this was a dream, he wasn't ready to wake up.
Beast released them from his grasp and began running a quick field exam on them both. His musings fell on deaf ears. They had made it.
After a moment, Scott pushed Hank away. Whatever else he wanted to do could wait. Scott held Jean tightly and whispered to her, “Everything is going to be okay from now on.”
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