Like Sons, Like Mothers
by Diamonde
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters used or mentioned here belong to me, they're Marvel's. The story is mine, so ask to archive and no MSTs or pop-ups.
CONTINUITY: Not much, I started it some time ago although I only finished it tonight. Um, the best I can say is that it's after the horror that was 'Blood Brothers'. *pause* Yup, that's still bugging me...
Psst. I remember putting one semi-mild swearword in here, be warned.
For Mys_Teri's Mother's Day challenge... kinda. It wandered on me.
It was dark when Jean opened her eyes. Very dark, and a little chilly. "Scott..?" she mumbled, looking over her shoulder. But she already knew that it wasn't Scott who was waking her up in the middle of the night. Jean rubbed her eyes and concentrated. There it was again, that hummed telepathic song that invited her outside. Naturally suspicious after all her years as an X-Person, Jean frowned and tried to narrow down the source. It wasn't at all seductive, just reflective and unhappy. And she'd been allowed to see it, because it wanted her to come out and talk to it.
Jean slid out of bed, fumbling for slippers and robe. She had a theory now, and it was one she felt obligated to face.
The grass was wet, so she lifted herself and floated above it. Not far now, waiting just over there was a dark shadow. Far enough so that nobody in the house could hear them, Jean drifted to a stop. "Well, Madelyne, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Madelyne Pryor tilted her head to the exact angle of Jean's, looking at her in mocking assessment. They looked identical, save for the fact that one wore a sunny yellow dressing gown and one wore black leather. "Don't worry, dearie. I'm not after your husband or your life or any one of those things I wouldn't want anyway."
"What about my son? I know you want him..." But she'd fight for that, oh yes she would... she couldn't give up Nathan, no matter how logical Madelyne's claim was. She'd raised him.
Madelyne's eyes narrowed. "Nathan is _my_ son. But if I wanted to work on my relationship with him, I would have talked to him like I have before. He's a big boy."
"So what do you want? You wouldn't have called me out here in the middle of the night if you didn't want something."
"I want me." Madelyne tilted her chin up in a somehow vulnerable gesture of defiance. "I want my life to belong to me, not Scott or Sinister or Nate or you. You've got all my memories, and I want them back."
"You still seem to remember everything well enough."
"So do you. I lived my life, _by myself_. You weren't there, _I_ was me. No matter how much you and Scott might like to pretend, you aren't me, you weren't me. I was, and I'm still here." Her hands were clenched, and there were tears in her eyes. "I'm a clone, but I'm still a person. My memories and experiences are all that makes me different from you, and I want that. I'm not you, I don't want to be you, and you shouldn't want to be me."
"I don't want to be-"
"Then give me back my life!" She was crying openly now. "You know Nathan's first smile? How it felt like he reached right into your soul and you're not entirely sure he didn't? That was ME he was smiling at! And I carried that smile with me, right through the despair and the lonliness and the pain... and then I gave it to you, because I didn't want that memory to die. But now... now I'm nothing but a shoddy copy of you again."
"No you're not. You never were..." Jean reached out, not quite sure how much Madelyne would allow. Her hands gently came to rest on a black-clad shoulder and Maddie leaned into it, just a little, shaking with the sobs. Jean remembered that smile one more time. Remembered cuddling the baby close... then remembered cradling a precious little bundle as they tried to escape from the ruined Askani stronghold. She reached for her clone, cradling her like the crippled baby Nathan had been. "Take it back. Take it all back, Madelyne, if that's what you need to be free of me..."
Madelyne leaned into Jean's shoulder as the link established itself. And started crying again as Jean began removing huge chunks of memory and handing them back, to fall and mingle with Madelyne's own. The love she'd felt for Scott, Nathan's birth, the pain of his disappearance and her own inability to find him, fleeting moments of hapiness as the X-Men looked after her in a way Scott couldn't or woudln't... the comfort Alex had offered, the terror of Inferno, the dark softness of her own death...
She blinked, disoriented. The memories were still coming. A few images, isolated... Nathan at maybe one and half, refusing to listen as his father patiently explained why one should not eat dirt. A few years on, the little boy chasing jewel-winged insects as he giggled with delight. They weren't her memories...
#He is your son. You should see him grow...#
Madelyne held the images in her hands like jewels. Not many, maybe a dozen at most, but so beautiful. He was so beautiful, that open joy... Gently, reverently, she put them down and looked at her own memories. One, two, a few more... The first view of his squashed pink face, watching him breathe as he slept and that little soft hand gripped her finger. Little moments of peace and love. A fair trade.
#Thank you,# Jean sent softly. The pain of the huge holes in her recollection was staggering. So much lost. It wasn't just Nathan either, it was the normal life, the everyday trials and rewards. And, strangely, the understanding of her brother-in-law that had been exclusively Madelyne's and which she could no longer feel.
Madleyne pulled herself together mentally and away from Jean physically. "I'm sorry. But I need to be the only me there is... what else have I got?"
"I understand." Jean closed down the last vestiges of the link almost reluctantly. "You know, when I was little I always wanted a twin sister. Strange how things turn out, isn't it?"
"We'll never be sisters," Madelyne said firmly.
"I know. But don't you ever wonder what it'd be like?"
Madelyne shook her head. "If my husband had left me for my sister it'd hurt far more than if it was just the stranger he'd used me to replace. Who would you rather have resent you, a sister or an aquaintance?"
Jean looked at the grass. "Then I guess I'll chalk that up as yet another chance Sinister took away from me."
Madleyne laughed humourlessly. "Honey, I wrote the book. I started with nothing, and thanks to him I don't even have all of that left. That's why-" She broke off suddenly.
"That's why what?"
Madelyne looked down at the dark ground, eyes unseeing. "That's why Stryfe almost had me. He could have given me so much. Revenge, wealth, power, and the only condition that we did it together... It was tempting. God almighty, it was tempting. But I couldn't do it..."
"Because it would have been wrong, Maddie. Which just goes to show."
"Doesn't show anything at all. I know that it would have been wrong. I knew that then! But that wasn't what stopped me, O Paragon Of Morality... If that had been all, I'd have tossed any remaining scruples to the wind and joined the psychopath mind and soul." She sighed. "But I couldn't abandon Nathan. Not my son. Not again. Or Nate... He trusted me, stupid though it was, and Stryfe would have killed him."
Even in the dim light, Jean could see the faint remnants of the fear of someone who had almost been lost to the abyss... and knew that, given another opportunity, might yet be. "That's why you're here, isn't it."
"Yes. I could feel... I don't want to end up like him. I have to draw a line between you and me, and keep it. Like sons, like mothers; we could turn into them. Unable to keep apart and bruising each other every time we meet. We've started down that road already. But after looking at what it's done to them... _I have to stop hating you_."
Even though she meant it, Jean could feel the conflict. Her hate had been all that kept Madelyne going for a long time, and now she was afraid to let go of it. "I don't hate you." Honest, she had to be honest... "But you're a pain in the butt."
"You irritate the shit out of me too." Taking a deep breath, Madelyne rubbed her eyes and looked skyward. "I should probably go before I change my mind about not hating you anymore. Sleep well, Mrs Summers." She slid skyward like a drop of ink in reverse.
Jean spoke softly as she watched the dark shape leave. "Happy Mother's Day, Ms Pryor."
The answer was faint, but there. #You too.#
~End~