x-ficlet: Countdown
I wrote this for juleskicks zomebie appocalypse ficathon But I love you for your brain!.
The only problem being my best friend and chief pimp didn't tell me it was for zombie-appocalypses; so I might have fallen a little outside the rules.
I was also half-asleep and so didn't spot cunning hints like the ficathon title. Slow loading images might not have helped there. Or exhibit Tracey linking me to the bottom of the page.
Although, I think Jean stiring under Jamaica bay might just count. Dead coming back to life? Zombies. I hope.
I might now have another go.
The prompt was: X-Men: Rachel Summers/Madelyne Prior, time bomb.
Gen, PG-13, angst, using the precedent/antecedent of Excalibur #8. Yes, I am a continuity freak.
Rachel's been making little trips like this for a while now.
She always picks her moment carefully.
When Kurt isn't doing something stupid, like diving off the top of the light-house or flirting with Megan. When Brian really can't find his Johnny Walker anywhere. When Meggan's watching that new soap-opera on the BBC and Kitty's joined her because she thinks she can learn something about British culture from it.
Kitty's already learnt some new cuss-words to use on Brian when he does find the whiskey.
So, here is she is, sitting in the clouds over Alaska.
She's very careful not to let the spikes of her suit - her slave suit, her hound suit, her suit - pierce the cotton-wool tufts. She doesn't want it to rain and give her away.
She's sitting over Anchorage, playing with her baby brother as his mind reaches out like questing fingers.
There are times she can kid herself that this universe is just a parallel where she was born a boy. Where Rachel is spelled C to the H to the R to the I to the S to the T to the O to the P to there H to the E to the R.
Brian muttered about parallel universes and a hundred thousand Captains Britain last time he was drunk. Rachel just figures his physicist's brain was trying to explain seeing double.
And that moment - the one when Rachel almost believes - is the one when the clouds always part. It's like karma is blowing them apart. Karma's a bitch.
Except for, you know, Karma who she heard about from Kate in the camps. Nobody knew what had happened to Karma until they'd invaded that building - the one with everything she needed to change the past - and walked through the room with the bottled brains. Kate went strangely silent when they passed one marked Ramsey; Rachel hadn't asked. Living in the X-Mansion with Magneto and the gang, she found out soon enough why. There was no sign of Karma.
Rachel pretends that she cannot hear Madeline's words in Christopher's mind.
She resists the temptation to twist them.
But, that's when it always falls apart. Like karma needs to remind her that she's in a universe where her mother and her father never married and settled down and made babies. Baby. Rachel. A universe where Rachel doesn't even get to meet her mother. Something about alien planets and unimaginable power that her friends don't quite manage to lock away in their thoughts. Charles Xavier had taught them to do that. That it doesn't quite work makes Rachel nervous.
She shouldn't hate Maddie. It's not her fault that she's the embodiment of everything Rachel wanted but could never have.
Rachel would like to think that she's a time-bomb about to blow up in Scott's face. Not Rachel's father's face. Never his face.
She remembers his fear when he first saw the hounds. It was delicious. It was just what her masters wanted.
And then something catches her mind's eye from Jamaica Bay.
Rachel smiles. The countdown has begun.
The only problem being my best friend and chief pimp didn't tell me it was for zombie-appocalypses; so I might have fallen a little outside the rules.
I was also half-asleep and so didn't spot cunning hints like the ficathon title. Slow loading images might not have helped there. Or exhibit Tracey linking me to the bottom of the page.
Although, I think Jean stiring under Jamaica bay might just count. Dead coming back to life? Zombies. I hope.
I might now have another go.
The prompt was: X-Men: Rachel Summers/Madelyne Prior, time bomb.
Gen, PG-13, angst, using the precedent/antecedent of Excalibur #8. Yes, I am a continuity freak.
Rachel's been making little trips like this for a while now.
She always picks her moment carefully.
When Kurt isn't doing something stupid, like diving off the top of the light-house or flirting with Megan. When Brian really can't find his Johnny Walker anywhere. When Meggan's watching that new soap-opera on the BBC and Kitty's joined her because she thinks she can learn something about British culture from it.
Kitty's already learnt some new cuss-words to use on Brian when he does find the whiskey.
So, here is she is, sitting in the clouds over Alaska.
She's very careful not to let the spikes of her suit - her slave suit, her hound suit, her suit - pierce the cotton-wool tufts. She doesn't want it to rain and give her away.
She's sitting over Anchorage, playing with her baby brother as his mind reaches out like questing fingers.
There are times she can kid herself that this universe is just a parallel where she was born a boy. Where Rachel is spelled C to the H to the R to the I to the S to the T to the O to the P to there H to the E to the R.
Brian muttered about parallel universes and a hundred thousand Captains Britain last time he was drunk. Rachel just figures his physicist's brain was trying to explain seeing double.
And that moment - the one when Rachel almost believes - is the one when the clouds always part. It's like karma is blowing them apart. Karma's a bitch.
Except for, you know, Karma who she heard about from Kate in the camps. Nobody knew what had happened to Karma until they'd invaded that building - the one with everything she needed to change the past - and walked through the room with the bottled brains. Kate went strangely silent when they passed one marked Ramsey; Rachel hadn't asked. Living in the X-Mansion with Magneto and the gang, she found out soon enough why. There was no sign of Karma.
Rachel pretends that she cannot hear Madeline's words in Christopher's mind.
She resists the temptation to twist them.
But, that's when it always falls apart. Like karma needs to remind her that she's in a universe where her mother and her father never married and settled down and made babies. Baby. Rachel. A universe where Rachel doesn't even get to meet her mother. Something about alien planets and unimaginable power that her friends don't quite manage to lock away in their thoughts. Charles Xavier had taught them to do that. That it doesn't quite work makes Rachel nervous.
She shouldn't hate Maddie. It's not her fault that she's the embodiment of everything Rachel wanted but could never have.
Rachel would like to think that she's a time-bomb about to blow up in Scott's face. Not Rachel's father's face. Never his face.
She remembers his fear when he first saw the hounds. It was delicious. It was just what her masters wanted.
And then something catches her mind's eye from Jamaica Bay.
Rachel smiles. The countdown has begun.