Another Old Lang Syne: Part 4

by Timesprite

 

 


“Hey, guys, they’re showing a tape of the conference!” There was a bit of commotion as everyone piled into the room and gathered around the TV.

“Drake! Down in front! And turn up the volume.”
 

“...as I said earlier, GenCorp is merely providing a service to those who want it. Our corporation doesn’t look upon pre-natal testing for mutation to be any different than the testing done for Cystic Fibrosis or Downs syndrome,” James Rown, GenCorp’s spokesman and top researcher said. “Anyone who says otherwise is simply trying to create hysterics and halt progress.”

“Then you don’t believe there’s any cause for mutants to be concerned about the testing you’re proposing, Dr. Rown?” The professor asked.

“None whatsoever. After all, it’s completely voluntary. We’re not forcing any women to take the test. It’s merely an option, allowing them to know if a problem exists and letting them make an informed decision about what to do.”

“You work from the standpoint that being a mutant is a ‘disease,’ Dr. Rown, correct?”

“My company and I view the issue as a disorder, yes. It’s an ailment that can greatly reduce the quality of life for both the afflicted and those around them. Just as with any other genetic condition.”

“So the claims that you’re trying to eliminate mutants by ‘selective breeding’ are unjustified.”

“Goodness yes,” the geneticist replied. “After all, we are not playing God here, Professor. Nor are we the Nazis some have tried to paint us as. As doctors and scientists, we have only the welfare of our patients in mind, and believe that they should be allowed to chose whether or not they want to raise a child that is known to be a mutant....”

“Boo!” Bobby tossed a handful of popcorn at the TV. “That’s such a crock.”

“Does he actually believe that, Professor?”

“Apparently, Jean. Which has me worried.”

The redhead shuddered slightly. “I can’t believe anyone could think like that. To think that any of us shouldn’t have been allowed to live because of our genes?” She reached down and scooped her daughter up from where she was crawling on the floor. “That Scott and I should have...” She stopped and shook her head.

“Not to mention,” Henry spoke up, “That the true nature of the x-factor has yet to be determined. I fail to see how any laboratory could hope to have an accurate test.”

“It’s a matter of supply and demand,” Warren said grimly. “People want it. They probably aren’t concerned with the accuracy.” On the television, the clip of the conference had ended and the news reporter continued.

“There are some concerns in the medical community about this proposed testing, both to its accuracy, and to its safety. While leaders for organizations such as the friends of humanity are lobbying for a version of the test to be administered to all newborns in the United States...”

“Sometimes I just don’t understand these people,” Scott murmured under his breath.

From the back of the room Domino scowled and rolled her eyes. “Welcome to America, a model of  equality for the whole world...”

“This is depressing. We risk our lives tryin’ t’ make things better for mutants and these people just keep coming up with more ways t’ discriminate. Makes ya wonder if we’re ever gonna make things better.” Rogue commented, eyes still locked on the TV.

“We do the best we can,” Jean replied.

Xavier nodded. “For that is all we can do.”

“The best just doesn't cut it, Charles. It never will,” Domino said, coolly meeting the looks several of the assembled gave her.

“What Dom means is-”

“I know perfectly well what I mean, Nathan.” She snapped. “I mean what I said. You can’t change the world with one man’s ideals. It just isn’t going to happen. Not this way, at any rate. And I really don’t appreciate being censored.” She shot Cable an angry look and strode out of the room, leaving Cable to deal with the befuddled stares of his family.

He found her later out by the lake, sitting on the end of the dock, eyes locked on the hole still visible in the ice. He stood on the shore for a few moments, then walked across the weathered boards to where she was seated. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” she replied. “I probably shouldn’t have said what *I* did.”

“They needed to hear it.”

“Maybe. Not from me. Something they’ll have to figure out for themselves, not from someone on the outside.”

“They don’t think of you like that, and you know it.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Maybe.”

“You didn’t have this problem when we were living here with X-Force. Or you didn’t mention it,” he sighed.

“I didn’t... it wasn’t the same thing, really. I was here, helping you deal with the kids. It was our business and everyone else just left us to it. But now... maybe that’s the thing. Now they do care, and I don’t want them to. I don’t need McCoy grilling me with questions or your mother trying to drug me-”

“Wait. What? When was this?”

“This morning. Made the mistake of mentioning I hadn’t slept well...”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Probably not, no. But I feel like... I don’t know. Like I’m tolerated because I’m with you.” She laughed wryly, still looking away from him. “It’s childish and stupid of me. I don’t really care if they like me or not.”

“Rachel seems to like you,” he said, taking a seat next to her on the dock. Her gaze was still fixed on the hole in the ice.

“You’re getting senile. Kids hate me.”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Mmm. And you’re not going to let this go.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch," she replied, turning to face him.

“Don’t bring my mother into this,” he smirked.

“Oh, that’s right. We’re talking about your sister.”

“Right. She doesn’t hate you Dom. She’s only eight months old!”

“Nate,” she said, peering at him, “why aren’t you going to let this go?”

He reached out and pushed her hair out of her face. “What are you looking for, Dom?”

“What?” She asked, confused.

“You’re looking for something... I was wondering what it was.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replied, deliberately not looking him in the eye. “Why I would I be looking for anything?”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her next to him. “You seem lost.”

“Are you sure you didn’t smack your head on the headboard this morning? You’re acting a bit weird.”

“I’m serious Dom,” he replied. “You said it yourself... you’re in limbo. And don’t think you can hide it from me,” he said sternly. “I know you too well for that.”

“Does it bother you?” She asked, abruptly changing topics.

“Does what bother me?”

“That Rachel... she’s young enough to be your granddaughter, Nate. Does it-”

He frowned. “What? Make me feel old?” He laughed wryly. “Maybe it should...” He trailed off, something occurring to him as he stared into her dark eyes. “Is that what this is? Is it making you feel old?”

“No! I mean...” She sighed and pulled away from him, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. “It makes me realize how long we’ve been doing this, Nate. How we never left time for anything else.”

“Ah.” He edged over slightly and pulled her into his lap, feeling her shiver as he wrapped her in his arms. Normally, she might have tried to resist such an affectionate gesture, but he could tell she was too tired to fight anymore. She leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I guess I just can’t help wondering why I let it be that way. I know I didn’t have the best control over my life... but I certainly didn’t go out of my way to make it any better, did I? You had your destiny... you couldn’t help that. And no matter how much it pissed me off,” she paused. “Or tore me up inside,” she continued in a quieter voice, “I knew that at least you were fighting for a reason.”

“You had your own reasons Dom,” he said. “And I know you’ve done a lot of good. Look at all you’ve accomplished with the kids... wasn’t that worth it?”

“Yeah, it was,” she replied. “But that’s only a fraction of it all. And the years that most people look back on as the best of their lives are nothing but nightmares for me.” She gestured to the lake. "We could have died out there..."

"We could have died a lot of places," he replied. "You know that."

"Yeah, I know that. Just seems more real this time. Maybe... I dunno. Maybe because we decided to give this an honest to goodness try, I just feel like something was trying to cheat us." She looked up at him, brows drawn together in a slightly confused look. "I don't want to lose you." She frowned, resisting the urge to pull away because she didn’t want to punish him for her own unease at the undeniably ‘needy’ feeling she had.

It was enough to make her head spin. She’d spent her entire life trying to prove her independence. Domino didn’t need anyone. It had always been one of the basic cornerstones of who she was. No one, no thing, would ever put her in chains. She’d never wanted to be dependant, had feared that eventuality as she feared almost nothing else on earth. The conviction, however, did not come without it’s sacrifices. She’d closed herself off, locked herself away so securely that after awhile, even she couldn’t see past the walls she’d built. And somewhere along the way, loneliness had crept in and caught her unaware.

She was still the same enigmatic woman on the outside, tough and self-assured, but inside she could feel that emptiness eating away at her, and a new fear asserted itself at the back of her brain. The fear that all she was on the inside would wither away and leave only that battle hardened shell. She’d never wanted to become the facade.

But she’d come close. Really goddamned close. Especially after she’d walked out on Nathan. She could feel the last of the human being in her crumpling up and giving in, deciding she’d abused it one too many times.

And now? She really wasn’t sure. There were so many things that tugged at her in the middle of the night, too many unhealed wounds demanding attention that she had to wonder how she stayed sane. She tried her best to melt into Nathan’s arms, to combat the cold of the air with his warmth and try to forget all of the things weighing her down. All she wanted to do is find that little part of her that was utterly content, and to cling to that with all her might.

He held her hands in his own, trying to warm her cold fingers. Strong hands, lined and scared from years of battle but still graceful like those of a piano player... he wanted to ask her if she had ever played, even though he knew it was a foolish question. She’d never shown any musical inclination aside from the music she occasionally saw fit to blast over the stereo, usually when she was in a better than normal mood. Her fingernails weren't painted their normal vibrant red, he noticed with a slight frown. Just a clear-coat of some sort.

“Is there something particularly enthralling about my hands, or can I have them back?”

His head jerked up at the sound of her voice, feeling almost embarrassed she’d caught him staring like that. “No nail polish,” he said by way of an excuse.

She shrugged. “Didn’t feel like dealing with the hassle.”

“I like the red,” he replied, still holding her hands, reluctant to let go.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t have McCoy CAT-scan you or something?”

“I think I’m offended.”

“You’re being silly.”

“I try to act nice, and you accuse me of having a head injury. I think I’m allowed.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know you didn’t.” He kissed the back of her hand briefly and let go. “Apparently,” he said after a moment of silence, “We’re all going out to dinner for Christmas Eve.”

“Where?”

“Don’t know. It was Jean’s idea... I suppose someplace upscale. I don‘t suppose you have anything to wear with you.”

“No,” she sighed. “You?”

“Nope.”

“Great. So we get to go shopping two days before Christmas.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could convince Apocalypse to conveniently resurrect himself to get us out of this?”

----

It had taken a few hours, but they’d managed to hunt down clothes that would fit him, and Dom had bought herself something that she hadn’t let him see. “It’s a surprise,” she’d said, grinning. “You’ll see it tomorrow anyway.” They’d gotten dinner in the city, and Domino had seen fit to drink half the bottle of wine by herself, which, while putting her in a better mood, had made him glad he was the one with the car keys.

She’d complained of a headache on the drive home and had disappeared into the bedroom not long after they got back. He hadn’t seen her the rest of the night. He wasn’t to the point where he was worried about her yet, she hadn’t been acting that much different from normal, certainly nothing to set off warning bells. Still, he felt a sort of uneasiness curled in the pit of his stomach that had him brushing over their link every so often, just to be sure everything was all right.

There were things he wanted to say- to point out that she’d gotten thinner than was probably good for her, that more nights than not, she hardly slept at all and that maybe she should do something about it. There was a point where you had to stop passing things off as ‘stress’ and start wondering if something was really wrong. He sighed. There were still all of these issues that hung between them that neither wanted to approach, for fear that what they’d built was too fragile to carry that weight.

She was sound asleep when he finally turned in,  curled up on her half of the bed clinging to the blankets with a death grip. He leaned over and kissed her forehead, brushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. She didn’t so much as stir, so he leaned back on his own pillow and went to sleep.

It was quarter after one by the bedside clock when he jerked awake, covered in sweat and mind on fire, as though he were under some sort of psionic assault. His shields tightened reflexively and the attack ended almost instantly, leaving him with only vague impressions of what it had been. He took several deep breaths to slow his heart rate back to normal, then tried to straighten his thoughts. Now that he was more awake, and in better control of the situation, he was able to tell that it *hadn’t* been an actual attack. Whatever it was would have been far too weak to penetrate his shields. Closing his eyes he tried to trace the event back to its source, and when he did, he found himself staring straight down his psilink with Dom.

She was laying there just as she had when he’d come to bed, still hanging onto the covers so tightly her knuckles were white, even against the paleness of her skin.  He reached over and brushed her hair back from her face, fingers trailing lightly over her skin. “Dom?” Nothing.

#Dom?#  Not even a twitch. Her end of the link was silent and dark, but undisturbed. He lay down again and stared at the ceiling, not wanting to sleep until he’d sorted this all out. That hadn’t been a normal nightmare on Dom’s end. After more than a decade, with *and* without the link, he’d pretty much gotten her responses to such things memorized. Often, she woke before he did, shaking and trying to catch her breath. And even when she didn’t wake... This didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t the morbid conjurings of a dreaming mind, more like a memory being played back in a high-speed loop, over and over in a cycle he couldn’t break, only watch, helplessly, as it rewound and played itself back again and again.

The phantom pain danced like fire on the other side of his reinforced shields and with his eyes closed,  mind calmed to an almost meditative state, he found himself watching it with a macabre fascination, half tempted to throw his end of the psilink open to see if he could relieve some of her torment by taking it on himself. But uncertainty and respect for her privacy made him keep his distance.

By four thirty the ‘dream’ began to fade until he felt Dom slip into normal sleep, saw her relax, tense muscles going slack. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief, his own eyes closing in exhaustion.

----

“Up before noon?”

“Huh?” Cable turned away from the coffee pot, mug in hand. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered as he took a sip. He eyed Scott cautiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, leaning against the fridge door.

“Hmph. Jean around?”

“In the den with Rachel. Why?”

“Something I need to ask her about,” he frowned.

Scott nodded. “I heard you’re leaving X-Force.”

“Leaving,” he replied. “Is not quite the right word.”

“Turning over leadership, then.”

“You don’t approve.”

“Not my decision. You know those kids better than I do, better than anyone here. I trust your judgment.”

“At least someone does...” He murmured, and wandered out of the room to find Jean.

“Good morning, Nathan,” she said brightly.

“Morning,” he replied gruffly, sinking down on the couch next to her. “Hey Rachel,” he continued in a friendlier tone. He glanced back at Jean. “I need to ask you about something.”

“Of course,” she smiled, but trailed off at seeing the expression on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“Maybe...” he paused and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t make heads or tails of it and though maybe you could.” He began relating the event of the previous night as best he could while she listened, a worried expression growing on her face.

“It sounds like some sort of psychic trauma,” she said when he’d finished. “But that doesn’t make sense. Unless she’d come in contact with something recently...”

He shook his head. “I would have known it.” He frowned. “I couldn’t ‘see’ anything, really, just feel it. It seemed more like a memory. But that doesn’t make sense either.”

Jean sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d know if she’d had any contact previous to this.”

“There is something,” he frowned. “But...”

“I’m not going to blab this to anyone Nathan, you know that.”

“I feel like I’m going behind her back. I should have waited...”

Jean put a hand on his arm. “Obviously you’re concerned for her. I can’t imagine she’d hold that against you.”

“Dom just might,” he muttered. “But she probably wouldn’t agree to talk to you of her own free will either...” He leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling for a few moments before glancing over at Jean again. “This doesn’t leave the room,” he said seriously. She nodded. “Dom’s got memories missing... she doesn’t talk about it much, but I’ve seen it, like an old mental scar. She doesn’t know how it happened.”

“And you think this is a connection?”

“Maybe... it’s a possibility. I don’t know what she was doing when we weren’t together. And it would explain some things...” He sighed. “I think this is something I’m going to have to talk to her about. I could be overreacting.”

“Well, I don’t think you are, but getting her cooperation in trying to work it out is probably the best way to go.”

“Easier said than done,” he frowned. The uneasiness that had haunted him yesterday was now like a lead weight that left him feeling vaguely ill. On the surface, things were still the same, but underneath he could feel the darkness advancing. He stood and waked towards the door. “Jean, thanks... for the advice.”

“I hope everything turns out all right. I’m here, if you need to talk,” she smiled almost wistfully, as if despite her optimistic words, she too could feel the disturbance that hung in the air.

----

“Sleep well?”

“Oh, Christ, Nate. I didn’t even see you there.” She sat up, brushing her hair out of her face. “What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

“Shit. Why’d you let me sleep that long?”

He straightened up from where he’d been leaning in the corner of the room and approached the bed. “That’s what we need to talk about.”

“You’ve lost me here, Nate.”

“What happened Dom?  What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing! I’m not keeping anything from you.”

“That’s bullshit,” he said with a calm that unnerved her, “and you know it.”

She scowled at him as she got up and went to retrieve clothes from the dresser. “What the hell is wrong with you, Nathan? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?” She yanked her clothes on, still shooting him an angry look.

“No,” he replied. “Actually, I spent most of the night watching over someone whose mind was busy tearing itself to shreds.”

Most of the anger on her face evaporated as she looked at him in bewilderment. “What? Did something- who?”

“You honestly don’t know.”

“Stop talking in circles! Who the hell are you talking about?” She cried in exasperation, trying to decipher the emotions that were playing across his face.

“You,” he said in a voice that was dead serious.

She sank down on the bed, looking at him in utter incomprehension. “I don’t understand,” she said quietly, swallowing hard past the lump in her throat and trying to fight of a feeling of dread.

“I sat here for almost four hours watching as you had a little psychic ‘episode’ so strong I had to shield the link. I had to deliberately shut you out, Dom. There wasn’t a thing I could do to wake you up, you were that damned gone. Don’t try and tell me that there’s nothing going on here,” he continued in a softer tone. “ ‘Nothing’ doesn’t send someone into the sort of mental shock I was reading off you. You had me scared to death.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a ragged breath before looking up at him. Even in the dim light of the room she could see the pain and concern written on his face. “I don’t remember a thing.” She said finally. “Not a God damned thing.” She realized she was shaking.

“Dom... Oath. What happened to you?”

“Just life, Nathan.” She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. “Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he repeated in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you believe that.”

“Don’t I?” She shot back at him. “It was my own damned fault. I was sloppy, and I paid for it. It happens. I’m dealing.”

“What I saw last night was not ‘dealing.’ And no matter how stubborn and bullheaded you insist on being, it’s not going to go away. I’m not blind, Dom. I’ve noticed things weren’t right here, but I didn’t say anything. And I wanted to. But I was foolish enough to believe that if you really needed help, you’d come to me. I though I had your trust.”

“I-” She started, but couldn’t find the words to continue. All the delusions she’d been living with were starting to evaporate and she felt as if she were slipping backwards down a slope with nothing to grasp onto to stop her fall.

“Something happened to you, someone did something to you that’s left you like this, torn up inside and out. Something that makes you cringe whenever I ask about that scar on your shoulder. Someone hurt you, and you won’t let me help you get better.”

She stood and walked away from him, trying to find some rational for what she was thinking. “We're broken people, Nate,” she said finally, her voice so soft he could hardly make it out. “Razor sharp shards  held together by rusty baling wire. Animated pain, walking, talking, mobile anguish. A mass of scars and wounds that no one sees. Every move we make makes new cuts and reopens the old ones. We never heal, we just go on, fighting through misery for reasons we don't even know. Driven on by a need to survive and some stupid notion that someday, we'll find a way to make it 'okay'.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m tired of fighting.” She felt as if the strength had leaked out of her, left her hollow and about to crumple. Something in her snapped, the irony of the situation too much, and she started to laugh before she could stop herself. “Oh God,” she tried to breath past the degenerating laughter until she was practically sobbing. “Some Christmas, huh? Christ.” She hadn’t noticed him cross the room, but Nathan’s hands were suddenly on her shoulders, holding her gently but firmly.

“Dom... Dom!”

“I’m sorry... I’m-” she stopped and caught her breath. “I’m okay.” She looked into his eyes and winced at what she saw there. Fear. Actual fear lurking behind his gaze. “God, I sure know how to ruin a party, huh?” She leaned her head against his chest, letting him wrap his arms around her as she listened to his heartbeat. “I’ll be okay. I needed to get that off my chest.”

“You’re lying.”

“I know. But it’s Christmas.”

----

“What are you doing in there?” He asked through the closed bathroom door. She’d snuck in there with her change of clothes and had been puttering around for a good half an hour. The good news was, she genuinely seemed to be in a better mood, which let him relax a little.

“You’re too impatient!” She laughed.  “I’m almost done.”

“I’m just curious.”

“Okay, okay.” She sighed. “I can do my makeup out there I guess.” She opened the door and stepped out. “Well?”

“I- um... That’s really nice,” he replied, looking her up and down. The dress was ankle length with spaghetti straps and an empire waist, the same rich amethyst as her eyes. She’d pinned part of her hair back, leaving the rest to fall in lose waves around her shoulders.

“Glad you like it. You don’t look bad yourself.” She said, surveying his grey collarless shirt and black slacks. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and went to the mirror over the dresser to finish with her makeup. Behind her, Nathan began digging through a bag, looking for something.

“Dom?”

“Hmm?” She asked turning away from the mirror. “I’m almost done...”

“We’ve got time,” he replied. “Actually, there was something I wanted to give you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I know, we’re not doing the gift thing. But it’s not, well, here.” He handed her a long flat package wrapped in silver paper. “Go ahead and open it.”

She unwrapped the package carefully, then snapped open the lid on the box. “Nathan...” She looked up, eyes questioning.

“I... just wanted you to know where my priorities lay, Dom. You were talking about finding new meaning in the world. And we both know that my mission always came first...”

She stared down at the box again. Against the black velvet lining, the silver pendant, no larger than a nickel, shone brightly, the light glinting off the upraised phoenix in its center.

“I guess it’s just my way of saying I’m never going to let that happen again. From now on, you’re my only mission. Especially with... well.” He shrugged.

She looked up at him, trying to suppress tears and laughter at the same time. “You romantic son of a bitch...”

“Glad you like it.”

----

“You’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“You know what,” she replied, staring up at the giant tree that towered over Rockefeller plaza. “You keep... checking on me.” She’d felt his feather-light touch over the link several times during dinner. Beyond all logic, he had somehow agreed to keep what had happened in the bedroom between them, at least until they’d had time to talk more. She wasn’t stupid, she knew he wasn’t just going to let it slide, no matter how much she wished he would. And to be brutally honest, she’d scared herself with the loss of control. He was right, this wasn’t something that was going to go away on its own, and that had her frightened as well.

She turned to face him and tipped her head to the side, studying the tightness around his eyes that meant he was blaming himself for something. “I’m sorry,” she said. “And please don’t go Askani on me, okay? I really am. This... isn’t your fault Nate. I should have seen it coming.” She glanced away. “I mean, after awhile, something’s got to give. I pushed myself too far.”

“I let you,” he murmured. “I knew, and I didn’t say anything.”

She sighed, reaching out and taking his hands in hers. “The damage was done, Nate. It was already there the day I met you in Cannes. I always have been good at pretending I was all right, even when I was dying inside. But I had no right to do this to you.” She squeezed his hands tightly, looking up at the dark sky overhead for a long moment before she looked back into his eyes. “And now... I guess I’m asking for your help.”

He was silent for a long moment. “You have that Dom. Always... forever.” The last word was spoken with some difficulty, she knew how hard it must have been to utter. But she could also feel his sincerity.

She leaned up to kiss him, whispering softly, so only he could hear. “I love you, Nathan.”


Back to Archive