It's All In Your Head: Part Three
by sevenall
A sound of metal gliding against metal woke her. Warren's wings were unfolding, his deadly flechettes quivering, ready for release. He was dreaming. Elizabeth lit the lamp, then summoned her butterfly and let it touch his brow, to try and wake him. At the touch, Warren's eyes snapped open. He looked at her without any sign of recognition, then screamed in terror. Elizabeth knew what came next. During the first months of their relationship, this had happened every night. She was already moving as he lashed out at her, the wings unfolding completely. Rolling off the bed, she threw herself flat to avoid the flechettes, but one caught her just below her left knee and she felt the whole leg go numb. Then she heard a ragged sob and knew that he was awake. She dragged herself onto the bed again. The blankets and sheets were ripped to shreds. Warren sat huddled in the middle of the mess.
"Bad dream?" she asked.
He didn't answer, just kept staring in front of him. She put her arm around his shoulders.
"Telling me about it might help, Warren".
"No!"
He shoved her away, got out of bed and started dressing with visibly shaking hands.
"We've got to talk about this".
His lips twitched uncertainly. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say something, but he shrugged instead and went out on the balcony. He stood there, elbows on the rail, looking down at the ground.Cold, damp air was seeping in through the balcony door. Elizabeth felt like crying. She had been so close to touching him.
"We've got to talk", she said again.
"You wouldn't understand anyway".
He spoke coldly, almost vehemently.
"Warren, you shot at me with your damn knives. That's fine, I know you didn't mean to. But don't you dare tell me that I wouldn't understand!"
They both fell silent. The wind sighed in the trees outside. A dog was barking somewhere in the vicinity.
"Candy", Warren said at last.
"What?"
"The dream was about Candy. Satisfied?"
His voice rose to a scream on the last word. Before Elizabeth could think of anything to say, he had taken off into the dark sky.
**After reaching a certain size, the entity could no longer maintain its self-sufficiency. Nutrition would henceforth have to be drawn from an exterior source. It needed to extend its already complex network of channels and connections. Done.**
The obstacle course was no joke. There were a couple of alternative routes through a muddy field. Some involved climbing mountainsides, others swimming an artificial river. The scenery changed often. To top it all, there were someone in the control room who kept track of you with the radar and shot rubber bullets at you.
"The Gladiators are abs'lutely nuthin' compared to this", Rogue had said admiringly after her first run.
The Professor hadn't quite caught her meaning but the rest of them had shrieked with laughter.
Elizabeth wore light armour, a helmet and gloves. It was threatening to rain, which would surely delight the Professor. He kept the field as muddy as possible, to impair speed. The comstation beeped.
"Yes?"
"Hello, Psylocke". That was Scott at the controls today. "We're ready if you are. Start at your convenience".
A few minutes later she had covered the easy part of the field and was heading out into the terrain. She was going for the barbed wire fence. A single bullet passed over her head as she climbed. Her clothing got stuck in the barbs and she had to tear free. At the top, bullets started whistling around her ears and there was nothing else to do, but to let go and fall down on the other side. The fall jolted her, hard, but she had to keep moving. Some hundred meters of level ground stretched out in front of her. She decided to risk running and went for it, zigging and zagging. One bullet hit her hip, hurt her, dammit, and she fell. She stayed down and crawled to nearest cover on her stomach. From there, she could either go straight up for a climb or left for a swim in the river. She preferred the river, already having done a fast climb. It was uneven terrain, hard to run fast, but plenty of cover. Only a very lucky shot could hit her there. None did.The riverbanks were steep and s! he h esitated a moment before deciding to roll. The pebbles rattled. Forget about stealth points. A shallow dive into the water and she went with the current for a few seconds, seeking a good place to climb out. There was none. She got out of the water anyway, threw everything she had into climbing up and her damn leg failed her, just wouldn't do it. She scrambled frantically upwards, as she got hit, once, twice, then turned and dived back into the water. She needed to think. Going against the current was out of the question. She would be lucky to complete this run. Whatever solution she would come up with, would have to be downstreams, and fast. There was a waterfall not far from where she was. The waterfall? Yes. The Professor had put up a net, just in case. The water in the river was kept at room temperature, all the rocks had been removed and there was a net. Bless him. She felt almost giddy with relief as she let the current carry her down. She had to swim a couple of careful ! stro kes to avoid getting tangled up in the net, but once she had put her feet in the loops, it was easy. Scott wouldn't dare to shoot at her while she was hanging there. Would not, she prayed. The risk of her falling down and having a serious injury was too large. Her leg still hurt, but she got up and a last desperate burst of speed carried her over the final stretch of open ground. She broke the ray of a lightsource somewhere and a photocell reacted, shutting off the advanced machinery that had been monitoring her. She snuffled, realised she had a nosebleed and felt the taste of blood in her mouth.
"You damn fool!" Scott yelled at her as she stood dripping and shivering in the doorway.
She had put an ice-pack over her nose to keep it from bleeding all over the floor, but she hadn't changed or showered. When Scott yelled, there wasn't time for such things.
"You're disqualified from this run. You knew I wouldn't shoot at you while you were in the net. What if I had? You'd have a broken neck and we'd have a hard time fishing your body out of the river".
"Succeded, didn't it?"
A half-hearted attempt at humour.
"Because I'm nice. If I hadn't been, you'd be gone".
Elizabeth clenched her teeth to keep herself from yelling back at him. She was very close to the edge, but the only way of talking to an upset Scott was to be calm. Jean's way, she admitted to herself.
"Scott", she said. "I couldn't get out of the water. I saw no other way. Do you understand?"
"What did you think you were doing? I..." Scott blinked as the meaning of her words caught up to him. "Oh". He took a closer look at her. "You aren't hurt, are you?"
"No".
"Do you want to review the tape now or later?"
"Later would be fine. I don't have another run until next week, so I should have time to study up on my mistakes".
"Yeah right". He grinned at her and she knew that the worst was over.
She had to make an effort not to limp as she walked into the kitchen afterwards. No one was there but Bishop. She nodded absently at him and put her cup of noodles in the microwave oven.
"Do you have a fixed schedule for the afternoon?" he asked suddenly.
"I promised to help Jean with Cerebro for a while. After that, I was thinking I'd get down in the cellar and shoot at things".
That was as social as she was going to get with him.
"I need a couple of hours in the air".
"So? Ask the Professor, I'm just the pilot".
And a traffic pilot, at most, nowadays. The fights were on the ground. No ordinary plane or heli could compete with Blackbird. Once they were airborne, they were safe. Mostly.
"I did that. He wanted you to come too. I've never flown Blackbird alone, you know. Only in the sim".
He had a funny way of asking favours. She took out the hot noodles and tasted them Chicken flavour? Not like any chicken she had eaten before anyway.
"Alright.See you here at 15, then, and we'll take her out".
"Thank you, Psylocke. I...could help you...with the marksmanship practise".
"That would be nice of you. I'm a lousy shot". She took her noodles and left.
Jean had almost assembled the basic module of Cerebro, when Elizabeth arrived.
"Security", she explained. "This part covers only the area around the Mansion. But you know this, don't you? You learnt to handle Cerebro the hard way".
She giggled girlishly.
"I don't know if I ever learnt to handle it", Elizabeth said. "I learnt what an enhanced psionic backlash feels like".
"That counts too. Where's Warren?"
Elizabeth tried to look innocent.
"He had breakfast early, then took off. I don't know where he is right now. I suppose I could find out. Is it terribly important?"
"Well, no...I don't want to pry, but is there anything wrong between you and Warren?"
"I don't know", Elizabeth answered aloud, keeping her thoughts well behind her shield and outputting only the mildest of rose light. "We're both rather complicated persons. Opening up to someone isn't very easy. But we're working on it".
"I saw him fly away last night. It scared me". Jean sounded sincere.
"Yes".
Elizabeth didn't think there was anything more to say about it. She deliberately let the butterfly darken. Jean mounted the hood on Cerebro, her movements precise and careful.
"He's been spending quite a bit of money on you", she noted.
"I appreciate your concern", Elizabeths said, "but I don't see that it is any of your business".
Jean twisted a screw just a little bit too far.
"He's my friend. He's been that for a long time. I don't want to see him used. Or hurt".
Elizabeth slammed the fragile tool down on the table, startling them both. <Of course you don't want anyone else to use him. Attention everyone! This is Jean Grey's playground. Now stand back while she takes what she wants.>
Jean looked ashamed.
"I'm sorry. No, listen, I really am. It's just that I care about Warren, well, both of you, really. I didn't mean what I said. I've got a big mouth".
"It's alright".
It sounded nicer than she had expected.
Cerebro started to beep and Elizabeth seized the opportunity to change subject.
"Can't you shut it off?" she asked.
Jean looked puzzled.
"It's signalling a mutant", she said slowly.
"Where?"
"In this room".
"Well, there are two mutants here, if I count as a mutant".
There had been a lot of philosophical discussions on that subject. Was she a mutant or an alien?
"But I have calibrated it. It should only signal unknown mutants", Jean explained.
"You must have forgotten one of us. Me, according to the coordinates. Re-zero it, will you?"
Jean hesitated.
"Shouldn't we tell the Professor that I made an error in the calibration?"
"Maybe we should. But it was so easy to fix. I say he doesn't need to know".
Elizabeth smiled fondly at Jean's compulsive honesty.
"Yes. I guess I'm silly". Jean smiled back.