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Title: The New Mutants II, Volume XII
Author: kanedax
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse & Marvel Universe
Rating: R for language and sexual suggestion
Spoilers: X3, New Mutants I & II (see above)
Summary: Metaphysical hijinks.
Notes: So this could quite possibly be the most abstract thing I will ever write. Hence the probable lack of skill in said writing. Hopefully it doesn't come off as too confusing, yet doesn't, you know, beat your head into the ground with meaning. As usual, I don't own the X-Men, Marvel Comics, 20th Century Fox, or Harry Potter 7. But I shall. Oh, yes. I shall.
Previous Chapter (Meltdown) / Next Chapter (Friendly Neighborhood)
Franklin Richards opened his eyes.
“Okay,” he said to himself as he looked around, “This is weird.”
For the past year, whenever Franklin Richards had looked into someone’s head, he had been able to see a series of images coming from the target’s stream of thought. With his power, he had been able to cull any information that he needed for a situation, whether it be an answer on the tip of a teacher’s tongue, a question about to be asked, or a feeling strongly felt.
This, however, was the first time he had actually forced himself into someone’s mind. And it was a shock.
He was surrounded by visions. Above, below, all around floated pictures larger than life and smaller than a fingernail. He saw things, heard things, smelled and tasted things that he couldn’t even fully explain to himself. Images spoke to him. Words touched him. Thoughts that seemed to come from all directions, from different voices. Scenes that were viewed from multiple perspectives, like a computer monitor in a film’s editing room.
Behind him, he heard a sound like a knife being dragged across a sharpener. Unlike the sounds that were bombarding him from Rogue’s memories, this one was clear. Crisp. And followed by a voice.
“Who’s there?” it asked.
Franklin turned. In front of him, about ten feet away (like distance actually matters here, he thought) stood a misty figure. Franklin could barely make out the features, but he recognized that it was crouching, with silvery blades coming from its hands.
“What are you doing here, bub?” it growled.
“Wolverine,” another voice spoke from behind. A second vaporous man approached, standing tall and dressed in a gray uniform. It laid its hand on the crouched figure’s shoulder, but, instead of passing through, it stopped as though both it and the other were solid.
“Is it another one?” said a voice from Franklin’s side. A third figure approached, and a fourth, both as hazy as the others. A small clinking noise was heard from this ghost, as a small orange light blinked on and off in what would have been its hand.
“Oh, come on, John,” said the fourth, which appeared to be dressed in bright yellow. “Calm down for a minute, would you? This one might be nice.”
“I think I can take this one,” the third one, John, sneered. “He seems a lot smaller than the last.”
“This one’s solid, too,” came a fifth voice, emerging in a similar mist. Unlike the others, Franklin actually recognized this one.
“Drake?” he asked. “Is that you?”
“Yeah,” the mist that sounded like Bobby Drake replied. “Do I know you?”
“This one’s solid,” a blue blob repeated Bobby’s words, but with a thicker accent. “Just like the last.”
“You don’t think she…?” a seventh and eighth blur appeared, and Franklin suddenly discovered that he was surrounded.
“Of course she did,” came a voice from outside the circle. The mists all turned to see this one, small and huddled in the “corner.” “The mutie freak has no control. Why are we surprised she went on a rampage?”
“Cody, cram it,” the mist Wolverine snapped.
“Worthless human,” the one beside Wolverine grumbled. “Always jumping to conclusions.”
“She…” one of the voices, which Franklin recognized as Kitty Pryde, said quietly, “She isn’t going on a rampage, is she?”
“Oh, dear,” the blue mist fretted, “That would be no good at all.”
“Would you all shut up for just a minute?” Franklin yelled, closing his eyes and concentrating on his surroundings.
“What… What are you doing?”
“Clearing things up.”
As Franklin opened his eyes, he discovered that the mists surrounding him had become, if not completely solid, at least in a firm enough shape where he could recognize what appeared to be faces. Some he knew from the Academy, and the others he could name anyway, his mind having picked their identities from Rogue’s wandering thoughts.
“How did you do that?” Magneto asked, looking down at his cloak and uniform.
“I got skills,” Franklin shrugged.
“Amazing,” Magneto replied, shaking his head in admiration.
“Did she absorb you, too?” Kitty asked.
“No, she didn’t,” Franklin answered. “I’m here to help.”
“See, I knew it!” Jubilee said, bouncing up and down. “I knew he was one of the white hats!”
“So you know of the other?” Professor Wagner asked.
“The other?” Franklin said. “You’re talking about Johnny, right?”
“Name sounds familiar,” Pyro said. “We don’t get out very much.”
“We float in her memories,” Peter continued. “She brings us to her when she needs us, but for the most part we just piece together things as they come down her stream.”
“Peter’s been spending a lot of time up there lately,” Kitty said quietly. “Logan, too.”
“So is Johnny the solid one?” Magneto asked. “The one who is up front with her?”
“I guess,” Franklin said. “I’m here to get him to calm down.”
“Why?” Bobby asked. “What’s he doing?”
“Making a mess.”
“Dammit,” Wolverine growled. “I knew we shouldn’t have let him past.”
“We didn’t let him past,” Pyro said. “He kinda kicked our ass, remember?”
“We put up as much of a defense as we could,” Peter said. “But he passed through us like we were nothing.”
“Well, if he’s solid like me,” Franklin said, running his hand through Jubilee’s face, “that’s not too much of a trick.”
Jubilee giggled. “Stop it, that tickles.”
“Sorry.”
“Aw, it’s okay, kiddo,” she said, running her hand along the top of his head like she was ruffling his hair.
“I can’t believe she did that,” Bobby said. “I mean, why would she absorb someone like that? And so much of him? She was always so careful when we were together.”
“They’re saying it was an accident,” Franklin muttered.
“And you don’t believe them?” Magneto said. “Good boy. You should never trust them.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe them,” Franklin snapped back. “It’s just…” He sighed. “It’s my uncle. I don’t want to think that he caused this.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Pyro said sharply. “I mean, if the solid one fought his way in and can take control of her, isn’t that her punishment for crossing him? Survival of the fittest?”
“I don’t know,” Franklin said. “I said I’d try to help, but I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“Don’t listen to them,” Peter said. “You know that this is Marie’s mind. Marie’s body. Not the other’s. You have enough power to be here without being absorbed.
“I think you have enough power to help her. And to help your uncle.”
“You don’t usually talk that much in real life, Commie,” Franklin said with a hint of a smile.
“You’re in her mind,” Peter replied. “It’s not talking. It’s thinking.”
“So where’s the front?” Franklin asked the group.
“That way,” Bobby said, and pointed to Franklin’s right. Franklin looked in that direction and, as he did, he discovered that the thoughts and images in that direction were slowly turning red and orange. He could see the heat coming from the front of Rogue’s mind.
Then it flickered out.
“They are fighting for control,” Kurt explained. “It has been going on for hours.”
“Why don’t you take them both out, while you’re at it?” Cody said from the corner. “It’s what they deserve. And it’ll let me get away from these freaks.”
Magneto shook his head as the group faded away. “And Charles wonders why I would rather see them dead...”
The approach to the front was nearly instantaneous as Franklin discovered that journeying through the mind was as simple as thought.
“Frank!” a voice yelled from above. As Franklin looked up, a gold stone tower appeared as if from nowhere. High atop it sat a tall golden throne. Franklin wanted to see the top, and he floated to it effortlessly.
“Frankie Boy!” Johnny said, overjoyed. He was seated on the throne, his left leg comfortably flung over one of its arms. A large crown was placed jauntily on his head, and he was wrapped in a navy blue uniform that Franklin recognized from watching old footage of the King Charles back when he was Prince. Behind him, a buxom blonde woman, wearing nothing but a red g-string, was preparing to drop a grape into his mouth. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Uncle Johnny,” Franklin replied, left slightly confused by the scene.
“Stop it!” a voice screamed from below. Franklin felt a presence beside him, and then a figure in a green hood and cloak flew past him and grabbed Johnny by the ears. She pulled on them hard, and Johnny was pulled from his throne and tossed over her shoulder. As his contact with the throne was broken, the tower and the blonde popped out of existence, and a simple wooden chair replaced the throne.
As Johnny flew off into the distance, Rogue breathed a sigh of relief, pulled the hood down from her head, and touched the chair. As she sat down the wooden chair flickered, taking on shapes that flew by too fast for Franklin to recognize. Along with the chair, Rogue’s cloak also disappeared, replaced by different garments that kept in a constant state of transition.
“He keeps doing that,” Rogue said quietly. “I wish he’d stop and leave me alone.” As she said that, the flickering stopped, and a poolside lounge chair replaced the wooden chair. Rogue’s cloak disappeared, and was replaced by a green bikini and sunglasses.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Johnny yelled and flew back to them, grabbing Rogue by the hair and flinging her from the lounge chair. Her cloak re-emerged around her body, and the chair became wooden again. She fell to the ground, and continued to fall as the golden tower re-emerged.
“What are you doing, Johnny?” Franklin asked anxiously.
“Man, I don’t know what’s going on,” Johnny replied. “I’m fighting these muties, right? And I get knocked out. I come to, and there’s all these people in my head. And there’s a chick that’s sitting in my chair! I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Your chair?”
“Yeah, man, ain’t it awesome?” he replied as the blonde dropped a grape in his mouth.
“Please, stop,” Rogue, emerging more slowly this time, said to Johnny. She grabbed his arm and pulled. After a few seconds he left the chair and fell down the tower.
“Rogue…” Franklin said.
“Why can’t he stop?” she whimpered, the chair flickering into a two-seated couch, her cloak replaced by a pair of Spongebob pajamas. She pulled a blanket from the backrest and wrapped it around her. “I just want to rest.”
“Rogue,” Franklin repeated as he saw a second figure slowly fade into existence on the other side of the sofa. Rogue pushed herself towards it, pulling her blanket up to her chin and laying her head on its lap.
“Lady, seriously, this is getting really annoying,” Johnny yelled, flying up the tower and grabbing the blanket. He tugged, and Rogue spun from the couch and off into the distance, whirling like a top.
“Rogue!” Franklin yelled, flying off after her.
“Hey, Frankie, where ya going?” Johnny yelled after him.
Seconds later (or moments, or hours, as time held no meaning) Franklin found Rogue huddled in a corner.
“Why is he doing this?” Rogue asked, tears rolling from her eyes. “None of the others have done this. Why can’t I keep him off of my chair?”
Franklin opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words.
“I don’t know,” she continued, wiping the tears from her eyes with the inside of her green hood. “I don’t know if I can fight him for it much longer. He’s so much stronger than I am.”
“I know,” Franklin said, kneeling down beside her.
“I’m so tired,” she continued. “I don’t know what chair I want, and it’s so hard to look.”
Franklin’s brow furrowed. What’s with the chair thing? he thought.
“…and he knows exactly what chair he wants,” Rogue pressed on. “Maybe he deserves to sit in it more than me.”
Franklin closed his eyes and concentrated. Fragments of her mind slowly came to him.
“Marie,” he said. “I can get your chair back for you.”
“But I don’t know…”
“It doesn’t matter what chair you want,” Franklin said. “You can find yours eventually, just like you’re supposed to. Without Johnny in the way. He has his own chair somewhere else.”
“But how are you…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Franklin repeated. He reached out his hand and took hers. “Let’s go talk him off his pedestal, huh?”
Rogue wearily nodded and followed Franklin back to Johnny’s throne.
“Dude!” Johnny said. “I thought you were going to get her out of here.”
“I can’t do that, Uncle Johnny.”
“Why?” Johnny asked. “She was trying to take my chair.”
“It’s not your chair, Uncle Johnny. This isn’t you.”
“Of course it is!” Johnny yelled. “Look around!”
“These memories aren’t…” Franklin stopped as he discovered that, intermixed with Rogue’s memories, new ones were slowly emerging. He saw his mother, Susan. Smelled his grandma’s apple pie.
“Shit,” Franklin muttered, as Rogue looked around frantically.
“I’m losing,” Rogue said. “He’s taking over.”
“Uncle Johnny!” Franklin yelled. “This isn’t your mind! It’s hers!”
“Yeah, right,” Johnny said. “I got my throne!”
“Marie, focus,” Franklin whispered to her.
“I’m trying…”
“This isn’t your mind, this isn’t your body!” Franklin continued. “Think for a minute!”
“Frank, this chick’s some psychotic delusion,” Johnny said. “I got conked on the head, and now she’s showing up.”
“Then why do you have tits?”
Johnny’s mouth stopped in mid-breath. It closed and his brow creased in thought.
“I heard you outside,” Franklin said. “I know you were out there. Why would someone want to turn you into a woman?”
“I thought it was some weird mutant that could, I don’t know, switch people’s genders, or something?”
“Or maybe you’re in this girl’s body.”
“Hmmm,” Johnny thought. “That would probably explain why I don’t have blond pubes.”
“Wait, what?” Rogue said, perking up. “How do you know the color of my pubic hair?”
“Long story,” Franklin said, blushing.
“So I’m in her body,” Johnny said, ignoring Rogue’s outburst. “Like that old Lindsay Lohan movie?”
“Um, I guess?” Franklin said, realizing he had no idea what Johnny was talking about. “Except that you’re both in the same body.”
“Well, where’s mine?”
“My parents have it, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I don’t know!” Franklin yelled. “Things have been pretty fucked up on the outside.”
“Am I dead?”
“I don’t think so,” Franklin continued. “Mr. Stark said that my folks were looking after you, and Peter said you were alive when they found you, but that’s all I know.”
“So how do I get back?”
“I don’t know,” Franklin said. “I’m kinda new to all of this.”
“You’re not giving me many options here, Frankie Boy,” Johnny said, tapping his fingers on his leg.
“I don’t think you can stay,” Franklin said. “Dr. McTaggert says that you’re fucking up Marie’s mind by sticking around. And I can see that you’re taking over her head, whether you mean to or not.”
Johnny looked around at Rogue’s thoughts, and discovered that more and more of them were fading into a dull orange and being replaced by his own. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. So you have no idea what my body’s like right now?”
“Not really,” Franklin said. “I’m assuming you’re just a memory in here, and there’s still some of you left in that other body to wake up eventually. But, if not…”
“Can you put me back?”
“I don’t know how,” Franklin admitted.
“Fuck,” Johnny grumbled. He looked down at the pair, and at Rogue in particular, who was looking strained and pale. “I’m a Defender. I should probably do the good guy thing, huh?”
“I can probably carry you if you want,” Franklin said. “In case I can put you back later?”
“Nah,” Johnny said. “You wouldn’t want me in there, anyway. I’ve seen things your little brain can only dream of. You’d pop like Orville Redenbacher.”
“I think I can let you out,” Franklin said.
“Okay,” Johnny said sadly. “Here’s hoping I’m still around on the other side, huh?”
“Yeah,” Franklin said quietly.
“You ready to go?” Johnny asked, jumping from the throne. The wooden chair wobbled slightly as it regained its balance.
“Um…” Franklin looked at Rogue. “There is one more thing, actually.”
“What’s that?” Johnny asked.
Franklin looked at him and closed his eyes. Johnny’s eyes closed with him, and he nodded in understanding.
“Gotcha,” Johnny sighed. “Well, that sucks, but who knows, maybe that’ll come back too. Come here, babe.” He motioned to Rogue, who, after looking apprehensively at Franklin, slowly approached him.
“I guess it’s probably best,” Johnny said. “I probably wouldn’t want to be in a body as hot as yours. Too many men hitting on me, it’d be nasty.”
“Thanks?” Rogue said.
“Ah, someone’ll hit that couch one of these days,” he continued. “Now that I know that this isn’t my body, I can still sense a lot of power to it. You’ll get yourself under control someday, I know it.”
He touched his hand to her forehead, and a brief red flare lit up between his fingers. “Hopefully this’ll help with that.”
Rogue lifted her hand to her temple and rubbed it gently. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Johnny replied, and turned back to Franklin. “Are we off?”
“Don’t head off too far,” Franklin said. “I might be calling you back sometime.”
“Can you do that?”
Franklin shrugged.
“Well, either way,” Johnny said, smiling. “There’s plenty of cities, plenty of mountains, plenty of women’s showers for this free spirit to visit.”
Previous Chapter (Meltdown) / Next Chapter (Friendly Neighborhood)
Title: The New Mutants II, Volume XII
Author: kanedax
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse & Marvel Universe
Rating: R for language and sexual suggestion
Spoilers: X3, New Mutants I & II (see above)
Summary: Metaphysical hijinks.
Notes: So this could quite possibly be the most abstract thing I will ever write. Hence the probable lack of skill in said writing. Hopefully it doesn't come off as too confusing, yet doesn't, you know, beat your head into the ground with meaning. As usual, I don't own the X-Men, Marvel Comics, 20th Century Fox, or Harry Potter 7. But I shall. Oh, yes. I shall.
Previous Chapter (Meltdown) / Next Chapter (Friendly Neighborhood)
Franklin Richards opened his eyes.
“Okay,” he said to himself as he looked around, “This is weird.”
For the past year, whenever Franklin Richards had looked into someone’s head, he had been able to see a series of images coming from the target’s stream of thought. With his power, he had been able to cull any information that he needed for a situation, whether it be an answer on the tip of a teacher’s tongue, a question about to be asked, or a feeling strongly felt.
This, however, was the first time he had actually forced himself into someone’s mind. And it was a shock.
He was surrounded by visions. Above, below, all around floated pictures larger than life and smaller than a fingernail. He saw things, heard things, smelled and tasted things that he couldn’t even fully explain to himself. Images spoke to him. Words touched him. Thoughts that seemed to come from all directions, from different voices. Scenes that were viewed from multiple perspectives, like a computer monitor in a film’s editing room.
Behind him, he heard a sound like a knife being dragged across a sharpener. Unlike the sounds that were bombarding him from Rogue’s memories, this one was clear. Crisp. And followed by a voice.
“Who’s there?” it asked.
Franklin turned. In front of him, about ten feet away (like distance actually matters here, he thought) stood a misty figure. Franklin could barely make out the features, but he recognized that it was crouching, with silvery blades coming from its hands.
“What are you doing here, bub?” it growled.
“Wolverine,” another voice spoke from behind. A second vaporous man approached, standing tall and dressed in a gray uniform. It laid its hand on the crouched figure’s shoulder, but, instead of passing through, it stopped as though both it and the other were solid.
“Is it another one?” said a voice from Franklin’s side. A third figure approached, and a fourth, both as hazy as the others. A small clinking noise was heard from this ghost, as a small orange light blinked on and off in what would have been its hand.
“Oh, come on, John,” said the fourth, which appeared to be dressed in bright yellow. “Calm down for a minute, would you? This one might be nice.”
“I think I can take this one,” the third one, John, sneered. “He seems a lot smaller than the last.”
“This one’s solid, too,” came a fifth voice, emerging in a similar mist. Unlike the others, Franklin actually recognized this one.
“Drake?” he asked. “Is that you?”
“Yeah,” the mist that sounded like Bobby Drake replied. “Do I know you?”
“This one’s solid,” a blue blob repeated Bobby’s words, but with a thicker accent. “Just like the last.”
“You don’t think she…?” a seventh and eighth blur appeared, and Franklin suddenly discovered that he was surrounded.
“Of course she did,” came a voice from outside the circle. The mists all turned to see this one, small and huddled in the “corner.” “The mutie freak has no control. Why are we surprised she went on a rampage?”
“Cody, cram it,” the mist Wolverine snapped.
“Worthless human,” the one beside Wolverine grumbled. “Always jumping to conclusions.”
“She…” one of the voices, which Franklin recognized as Kitty Pryde, said quietly, “She isn’t going on a rampage, is she?”
“Oh, dear,” the blue mist fretted, “That would be no good at all.”
“Would you all shut up for just a minute?” Franklin yelled, closing his eyes and concentrating on his surroundings.
“What… What are you doing?”
“Clearing things up.”
As Franklin opened his eyes, he discovered that the mists surrounding him had become, if not completely solid, at least in a firm enough shape where he could recognize what appeared to be faces. Some he knew from the Academy, and the others he could name anyway, his mind having picked their identities from Rogue’s wandering thoughts.
“How did you do that?” Magneto asked, looking down at his cloak and uniform.
“I got skills,” Franklin shrugged.
“Amazing,” Magneto replied, shaking his head in admiration.
“Did she absorb you, too?” Kitty asked.
“No, she didn’t,” Franklin answered. “I’m here to help.”
“See, I knew it!” Jubilee said, bouncing up and down. “I knew he was one of the white hats!”
“So you know of the other?” Professor Wagner asked.
“The other?” Franklin said. “You’re talking about Johnny, right?”
“Name sounds familiar,” Pyro said. “We don’t get out very much.”
“We float in her memories,” Peter continued. “She brings us to her when she needs us, but for the most part we just piece together things as they come down her stream.”
“Peter’s been spending a lot of time up there lately,” Kitty said quietly. “Logan, too.”
“So is Johnny the solid one?” Magneto asked. “The one who is up front with her?”
“I guess,” Franklin said. “I’m here to get him to calm down.”
“Why?” Bobby asked. “What’s he doing?”
“Making a mess.”
“Dammit,” Wolverine growled. “I knew we shouldn’t have let him past.”
“We didn’t let him past,” Pyro said. “He kinda kicked our ass, remember?”
“We put up as much of a defense as we could,” Peter said. “But he passed through us like we were nothing.”
“Well, if he’s solid like me,” Franklin said, running his hand through Jubilee’s face, “that’s not too much of a trick.”
Jubilee giggled. “Stop it, that tickles.”
“Sorry.”
“Aw, it’s okay, kiddo,” she said, running her hand along the top of his head like she was ruffling his hair.
“I can’t believe she did that,” Bobby said. “I mean, why would she absorb someone like that? And so much of him? She was always so careful when we were together.”
“They’re saying it was an accident,” Franklin muttered.
“And you don’t believe them?” Magneto said. “Good boy. You should never trust them.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe them,” Franklin snapped back. “It’s just…” He sighed. “It’s my uncle. I don’t want to think that he caused this.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Pyro said sharply. “I mean, if the solid one fought his way in and can take control of her, isn’t that her punishment for crossing him? Survival of the fittest?”
“I don’t know,” Franklin said. “I said I’d try to help, but I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“Don’t listen to them,” Peter said. “You know that this is Marie’s mind. Marie’s body. Not the other’s. You have enough power to be here without being absorbed.
“I think you have enough power to help her. And to help your uncle.”
“You don’t usually talk that much in real life, Commie,” Franklin said with a hint of a smile.
“You’re in her mind,” Peter replied. “It’s not talking. It’s thinking.”
“So where’s the front?” Franklin asked the group.
“That way,” Bobby said, and pointed to Franklin’s right. Franklin looked in that direction and, as he did, he discovered that the thoughts and images in that direction were slowly turning red and orange. He could see the heat coming from the front of Rogue’s mind.
Then it flickered out.
“They are fighting for control,” Kurt explained. “It has been going on for hours.”
“Why don’t you take them both out, while you’re at it?” Cody said from the corner. “It’s what they deserve. And it’ll let me get away from these freaks.”
Magneto shook his head as the group faded away. “And Charles wonders why I would rather see them dead...”
The approach to the front was nearly instantaneous as Franklin discovered that journeying through the mind was as simple as thought.
“Frank!” a voice yelled from above. As Franklin looked up, a gold stone tower appeared as if from nowhere. High atop it sat a tall golden throne. Franklin wanted to see the top, and he floated to it effortlessly.
“Frankie Boy!” Johnny said, overjoyed. He was seated on the throne, his left leg comfortably flung over one of its arms. A large crown was placed jauntily on his head, and he was wrapped in a navy blue uniform that Franklin recognized from watching old footage of the King Charles back when he was Prince. Behind him, a buxom blonde woman, wearing nothing but a red g-string, was preparing to drop a grape into his mouth. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Uncle Johnny,” Franklin replied, left slightly confused by the scene.
“Stop it!” a voice screamed from below. Franklin felt a presence beside him, and then a figure in a green hood and cloak flew past him and grabbed Johnny by the ears. She pulled on them hard, and Johnny was pulled from his throne and tossed over her shoulder. As his contact with the throne was broken, the tower and the blonde popped out of existence, and a simple wooden chair replaced the throne.
As Johnny flew off into the distance, Rogue breathed a sigh of relief, pulled the hood down from her head, and touched the chair. As she sat down the wooden chair flickered, taking on shapes that flew by too fast for Franklin to recognize. Along with the chair, Rogue’s cloak also disappeared, replaced by different garments that kept in a constant state of transition.
“He keeps doing that,” Rogue said quietly. “I wish he’d stop and leave me alone.” As she said that, the flickering stopped, and a poolside lounge chair replaced the wooden chair. Rogue’s cloak disappeared, and was replaced by a green bikini and sunglasses.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Johnny yelled and flew back to them, grabbing Rogue by the hair and flinging her from the lounge chair. Her cloak re-emerged around her body, and the chair became wooden again. She fell to the ground, and continued to fall as the golden tower re-emerged.
“What are you doing, Johnny?” Franklin asked anxiously.
“Man, I don’t know what’s going on,” Johnny replied. “I’m fighting these muties, right? And I get knocked out. I come to, and there’s all these people in my head. And there’s a chick that’s sitting in my chair! I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Your chair?”
“Yeah, man, ain’t it awesome?” he replied as the blonde dropped a grape in his mouth.
“Please, stop,” Rogue, emerging more slowly this time, said to Johnny. She grabbed his arm and pulled. After a few seconds he left the chair and fell down the tower.
“Rogue…” Franklin said.
“Why can’t he stop?” she whimpered, the chair flickering into a two-seated couch, her cloak replaced by a pair of Spongebob pajamas. She pulled a blanket from the backrest and wrapped it around her. “I just want to rest.”
“Rogue,” Franklin repeated as he saw a second figure slowly fade into existence on the other side of the sofa. Rogue pushed herself towards it, pulling her blanket up to her chin and laying her head on its lap.
“Lady, seriously, this is getting really annoying,” Johnny yelled, flying up the tower and grabbing the blanket. He tugged, and Rogue spun from the couch and off into the distance, whirling like a top.
“Rogue!” Franklin yelled, flying off after her.
“Hey, Frankie, where ya going?” Johnny yelled after him.
Seconds later (or moments, or hours, as time held no meaning) Franklin found Rogue huddled in a corner.
“Why is he doing this?” Rogue asked, tears rolling from her eyes. “None of the others have done this. Why can’t I keep him off of my chair?”
Franklin opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words.
“I don’t know,” she continued, wiping the tears from her eyes with the inside of her green hood. “I don’t know if I can fight him for it much longer. He’s so much stronger than I am.”
“I know,” Franklin said, kneeling down beside her.
“I’m so tired,” she continued. “I don’t know what chair I want, and it’s so hard to look.”
Franklin’s brow furrowed. What’s with the chair thing? he thought.
“…and he knows exactly what chair he wants,” Rogue pressed on. “Maybe he deserves to sit in it more than me.”
Franklin closed his eyes and concentrated. Fragments of her mind slowly came to him.
“Marie,” he said. “I can get your chair back for you.”
“But I don’t know…”
“It doesn’t matter what chair you want,” Franklin said. “You can find yours eventually, just like you’re supposed to. Without Johnny in the way. He has his own chair somewhere else.”
“But how are you…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Franklin repeated. He reached out his hand and took hers. “Let’s go talk him off his pedestal, huh?”
Rogue wearily nodded and followed Franklin back to Johnny’s throne.
“Dude!” Johnny said. “I thought you were going to get her out of here.”
“I can’t do that, Uncle Johnny.”
“Why?” Johnny asked. “She was trying to take my chair.”
“It’s not your chair, Uncle Johnny. This isn’t you.”
“Of course it is!” Johnny yelled. “Look around!”
“These memories aren’t…” Franklin stopped as he discovered that, intermixed with Rogue’s memories, new ones were slowly emerging. He saw his mother, Susan. Smelled his grandma’s apple pie.
“Shit,” Franklin muttered, as Rogue looked around frantically.
“I’m losing,” Rogue said. “He’s taking over.”
“Uncle Johnny!” Franklin yelled. “This isn’t your mind! It’s hers!”
“Yeah, right,” Johnny said. “I got my throne!”
“Marie, focus,” Franklin whispered to her.
“I’m trying…”
“This isn’t your mind, this isn’t your body!” Franklin continued. “Think for a minute!”
“Frank, this chick’s some psychotic delusion,” Johnny said. “I got conked on the head, and now she’s showing up.”
“Then why do you have tits?”
Johnny’s mouth stopped in mid-breath. It closed and his brow creased in thought.
“I heard you outside,” Franklin said. “I know you were out there. Why would someone want to turn you into a woman?”
“I thought it was some weird mutant that could, I don’t know, switch people’s genders, or something?”
“Or maybe you’re in this girl’s body.”
“Hmmm,” Johnny thought. “That would probably explain why I don’t have blond pubes.”
“Wait, what?” Rogue said, perking up. “How do you know the color of my pubic hair?”
“Long story,” Franklin said, blushing.
“So I’m in her body,” Johnny said, ignoring Rogue’s outburst. “Like that old Lindsay Lohan movie?”
“Um, I guess?” Franklin said, realizing he had no idea what Johnny was talking about. “Except that you’re both in the same body.”
“Well, where’s mine?”
“My parents have it, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I don’t know!” Franklin yelled. “Things have been pretty fucked up on the outside.”
“Am I dead?”
“I don’t think so,” Franklin continued. “Mr. Stark said that my folks were looking after you, and Peter said you were alive when they found you, but that’s all I know.”
“So how do I get back?”
“I don’t know,” Franklin said. “I’m kinda new to all of this.”
“You’re not giving me many options here, Frankie Boy,” Johnny said, tapping his fingers on his leg.
“I don’t think you can stay,” Franklin said. “Dr. McTaggert says that you’re fucking up Marie’s mind by sticking around. And I can see that you’re taking over her head, whether you mean to or not.”
Johnny looked around at Rogue’s thoughts, and discovered that more and more of them were fading into a dull orange and being replaced by his own. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. So you have no idea what my body’s like right now?”
“Not really,” Franklin said. “I’m assuming you’re just a memory in here, and there’s still some of you left in that other body to wake up eventually. But, if not…”
“Can you put me back?”
“I don’t know how,” Franklin admitted.
“Fuck,” Johnny grumbled. He looked down at the pair, and at Rogue in particular, who was looking strained and pale. “I’m a Defender. I should probably do the good guy thing, huh?”
“I can probably carry you if you want,” Franklin said. “In case I can put you back later?”
“Nah,” Johnny said. “You wouldn’t want me in there, anyway. I’ve seen things your little brain can only dream of. You’d pop like Orville Redenbacher.”
“I think I can let you out,” Franklin said.
“Okay,” Johnny said sadly. “Here’s hoping I’m still around on the other side, huh?”
“Yeah,” Franklin said quietly.
“You ready to go?” Johnny asked, jumping from the throne. The wooden chair wobbled slightly as it regained its balance.
“Um…” Franklin looked at Rogue. “There is one more thing, actually.”
“What’s that?” Johnny asked.
Franklin looked at him and closed his eyes. Johnny’s eyes closed with him, and he nodded in understanding.
“Gotcha,” Johnny sighed. “Well, that sucks, but who knows, maybe that’ll come back too. Come here, babe.” He motioned to Rogue, who, after looking apprehensively at Franklin, slowly approached him.
“I guess it’s probably best,” Johnny said. “I probably wouldn’t want to be in a body as hot as yours. Too many men hitting on me, it’d be nasty.”
“Thanks?” Rogue said.
“Ah, someone’ll hit that couch one of these days,” he continued. “Now that I know that this isn’t my body, I can still sense a lot of power to it. You’ll get yourself under control someday, I know it.”
He touched his hand to her forehead, and a brief red flare lit up between his fingers. “Hopefully this’ll help with that.”
Rogue lifted her hand to her temple and rubbed it gently. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Johnny replied, and turned back to Franklin. “Are we off?”
“Don’t head off too far,” Franklin said. “I might be calling you back sometime.”
“Can you do that?”
Franklin shrugged.
“Well, either way,” Johnny said, smiling. “There’s plenty of cities, plenty of mountains, plenty of women’s showers for this free spirit to visit.”
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