War of Change

Title: War of Change

Rating: R (I think...not sure yet. But later chapters violence,

mature stuff.)

Summary: AU: War of Change is here. X-Men must set out on a series of

battles to gain a foothold in the West.

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except a few...which are still

too many to name. But I bet you'll figure out which ones are it and

which ones aren't. For the ones I don't own...they belong to other

people that I don't know. :(

Feedback: Yes, please. I want to know if this story has a future or

if I should just stop it now. :)







"What do you mean they hit the Blackbird?! How?!" Jean asks heatedly.

Her voice hard and full of an authority that left no room for

question. Someone behind her makes a soft cry of distress. The man

sitting beside her, Lee is his name, looks at her quickly then

repeats what he had said.



"We're hit! I don't know how!" he says, looking over his shoulder at

the people behind him while pulling on the controls.



"We need to land this thing now!" Logan yells as the Blackbird gives

a low groan and rattles as something else smashing into it's belly.

He grabs a seat and pulls himself up, moving to stand between the

pilots seats.



"Oh God! This isn't good at all!" someone cries.



"Where can we land her?" Jean asks quietly to herself, then points

off somewhere to their right. "There! That clearing between the

trees."



Lee looks off at what she's pointing at and nods, "Right." As the

ship turns to that direction a long cracking sound seems to travel

down the length of the plane. Jean frowns and looks up at the

ceiling, hoping the Blackbird can hold together.



Then a sudden jolt racks the plane and everyone is rattled in or out

of their seats. Logan falls back and slams into the side wall. Lee's

head smashes against the front panel and he stills.



"Lee?!" Jean yells, unbuckling herself quickly, trying to keep

balance as the plane picks up speed toward the ground. "LEE!" she

yells again and lifts his head from the panel. In her past as a

doctor she checks to make sure he's breathing first before grabbing

the controls. But it's too late, they are already aimed for the

ground with little control left of the Blackbird.



"Is he ok?!" Jubilee yells from the back, her hands gripping the

chair in front of her in a death grip.



"We're going down!" Jean says loudly, turning and she locks eyes with

Logan for a brief second that seems to extend a lifetime. Just the

way his eyes are, something she's never seen in them. Fear. But he

could probably read the same thing in her eyes.



"Hold on to SOMETHING!!!!" Bobby screams at the top of his lungs.

This sends the people not used to combat into a panic and most of

them begin shouting.



The Blackbird gives a massive shudder one last time, tossing everyone

around before slamming belly first into the large trees below them.

The Blackbird shakes and slams everyone inside like rag dolls.



Screams and shouts drown out under the cracking and booming of trees

and metal colliding. To Jean, the sounds of the trees snapping sound

so much like bones snapping that she closes her eyes, holding onto

whatever she can grasp for dear life. Having unbuckled herself she

doesn't last long before she's thrown back. She hits a seat and falls

to the ground, beginning to slide back, then something grabs her.



Jean looks up to see Bobby, his hand gripping her wrist. He is

holding onto a steel bar attached to a seat. He's gritting his teeth

and holding on as best he can, but she can see his grip slipping.

Then another hand grabs the back of her uniform, hauling her up

slightly.



"Pull her up, Logan," Bobby shouts. But as he finishes the Blackbird

crashes into the ground, the force of it knocking Bobby into the

ceiling and he slumps to the ground unconscious. But the Blackbird

keeps skidding across the ground. Logan keeps his hold on Jean for

all but a few seconds before he loses his footing. Jean cries out and

slams against something, the wall, a seat, a steel bar. Then she

falls to the ground, her head smashing into the steel floor.



"Jean!" someone screams out, and then also they are enveloped in

silence except for the disgusting crunch she had heard not even

seconds before.



Then as if to tease them, the plane comes a halt, after they have all

fallen. Jean knows she should get up and help people, the screaming

ones that she can barely hear. But something isn't right. She closes

her eyes, tired, and falls into darkness. *Professor...tell Scott...I

love him.*





***************





Stepping along the broken street, Ororo looks to the sky, hoping her

Logan's alright and that Jaime and Collin are not worrying and are

out playing. She wipes sweat off her forehead and a soft pain settles

in her stomach, like it always does when she thinks of her family.



"Something Logan told me once," Scott suddenly says beside her. Ororo

jumps but looks into his eyes or at the red shade and somehow knows

those eyes are comforting. "Worrying won't help ya none, One Eye.

Just do what ya can and leave it. `Cause worrying...will kill ya." He

smiles and puts a hand on Ororo's shoulder. She smiles along with him

and he speaks before she can ask him why he had said that. "You

looked like you were in need of some Wolverine wisdom."



Ororo laughs and looks down at the ground, picturing Logan in her

mind. Wishing they were together, but then she takes his advice and

looks back up at Scott. "Thank you, Scott," she says. "I think you

are right."



"They're fine," he says, his smile soothing to her. "I know it's

hard, but they'll all be fine. All of you will be."



She looks off into the distance, tall trees and beyond that....who

knows? "Yes, I need to stop worrying over everything. Collin and

Jaime are safe and Logan knows how to take care of himself." She

smiles and taps Scott's hand on her shoulder. "You are a true friend,

Scott Summers."



His smile grows and he nods, "You too, `Ro. Tonight, when I talk with

Jean...I'll give her a message from you to give to Logan."



"Thank you," Ororo says again, unable to express how much she

appreciates Scott's love, especially at a time like this. When he

himself is hurting and worrying. "How are you holding up? Have you

spoken with Jean yet?"



Scott nods, "Not yet...They should have already hit Buffalo. Tonight

though, they are going to stop, I'll talk with her then."



Ororo smiles softly and they continue walking. Until deep in the dark

trees off to their right an eruption of noise sounds. Gambit comes

running past her toward the noise as Scott puts his hand to his

single lens glasses.



"HELP!" someone shouts and Ororo's body tenses. An ambush she screams

in her head, letting her power envelop her quickly, no hesitation.

She can almost feel her eyes fading to white and can most definitely

feel the electricity coursing through her body. More sounds come from

the trees, screams, shouts, even the loud eruptions of gunshots being

fired.



A huge explosion of dirt and rock erupts from the earth about 10

yards in front of her and she ducks as debris scatters all around

her. Chunks of rock collide with her skin, creating sharp gashes and

cuts in her skin. She winces with each one but keeps standing as

figures come hurtling out of the trees. Storm calls upon the

elements, feeling the heat and electricity surround her. Quickly, she

has a few strikes of lightening slashing down on the rushing figures.



The power surges through her and she almost rejoices with the

feeling inside her. The ultimate strength, like she does every time

she wields her mutant ability. It is almost like a drug, but one she

can mostly control.



She notices Gambit running through the mass and halts her strikes.

Many of the ones that had been running forward are now down on the

ground moaning in pain from the multitude of electrical shocks. The

few that had survived are now retreating back into the trees. They

hadn't expected such a great amount of power she can tell. Their

little group of misguided mutants wasn't enough for Ororo, Scott and

the rest of them.



But then sounds behind them begin sounding. Sounds of twigs and

branches snapping, leaves being stomped into the ground under running

feet. Scott turns a second sooner then she does and she hears him

curse loudly, a blast firing from his eyes. The blast hits the ground

in front of two or three men, sending them hurtling into the air. But

the others keep coming. Another falls from another explosion from one

of Remy's playing cards. He is far from her but she can still here

him cursing their attackers in some form of the French language.



A rock flies past Storm and she realizes that they are facing mutants

here as more rocks begin floating into the air and at them. She

frowns and the winds pick up around her, lifting her body into the

air, away from the flying objects. Another one of their attackers

screams up into the air and then his body seems to melt. His limbs

liquefying until he is only a puddle on the ground. Storm doesn't

want to wait for what he can do in that form. She sends a lightening

strike down onto him. The earth erupts on that spot and Storm can't

help but wince. Upsetting the Earth is not what she wants to do.



Instead of sending down more lightening she calls upon the winds,

large clouds begin to accumulate, turning the sky a dark gray, almost

black. Clouds you would only see in the worst of weather.



Rain begins pelting down against their attackers. Beating against

them with the wind.



"Remy!" one of their women yells out as Remy falls to the ground

unceremoniously. A tall figure standing above him in a triumphant

stance. Storm moves down toward him, planning on disabling him with a

bolt or maybe something less strong. But as more of their people try

to get close to the figure they fall within eye contact. Then the man

looks up at her and their eyes meet. Eyes sharp and beading yellow

centers watch her and Storm is hypnotized. But before anything else

can happen something hits her against the side of the head.



She falls to the ground hard, slamming against the rough dirt. Before

she can so much as pick herself up someone puts a boot to her back,

right between her shoulder blades and pushes her body back down.



"Don't move, Storm," a man's voice says.



Immediately, she swipes her legs up in a maneuver Logan had taught

her months ago. The move knocks the legs out from under the man and

he slams onto his back with a loud curse. Storm pushes herself to her

feet and looks down at the man, ready to do damage if she must. His

eyes turn up and it's the man with the small yellow eyes again. His

features are rough, a sharp chin except for a scar running down from

the middle of his bottom lip straight down his chin to run underneath

to where she can't see.



His yellow eyes seem to shine a bright gold and Storm can no longer

remember what she had wanted to do with this man. He grins, his teeth

sharp and white, like a reptile. Then she feels faint, unable to take

her eyes from his. They are locked like this for what seems like

hours. Then Storm's muscles seem to turn to liquid and she falls to

her knees before her mind goes black and she falls face first into

the dirt.





**************





Charles Xavier sits quietly on the porch to the un-sturdy wood cabin,

staring off at the trees, hoping everyone will make it out alright

today. He frowns as he looks over at the children playing on the

grass in front of the cabin. Mrs. Coren and another woman, Ms.

McGregor, are keeping an eye on them. The few mutants and fighting

men and women that stayed behind are walking the grounds or standing

in small groups talking of some such uninteresting topics. Trying

their best to keep their minds away from anything associated with

real life. He can feel their thoughts though, the deep, frightened

thoughts of desperate people swimming through the air. As if on a

wind that carries them all to him.



He has a feeling though, in the pit of his stomach that things are

not going to work out how everything had been planned. A horrible

feeling that everything is going to turn out for the worst and

there's nothing he can do. Especially now. He can't rid himself of

the feeling. It's making him feel nervous and unsure of himself and

his plans.



*Professor...tell Scott...I love him.*



The telepathic words come to him suddenly and Xavier's breath catches

in his throat. It is Jean. The emotions attached to the thought are

pain, fear, loss. The Professor immediately tries to return a message

but can't. Jean is no longer responding to him. He closes his eyes,

trying to focus his mind, stretching it. Trying to reach her. But

nothing.



The Professor lets out a loud breath, opening his eyes which now seem

red and strained as if holding back some great emotion.



"Dear Lord," he whispers to himself. "Jean." The feeling in his

stomach turns to a hard twist. A stab to his heart. His head lowers

and he tries not to think about what might have happened or might be

happening. His X-Men will pull through this.







**************





Logan rolls over slowly and reaches a hand to his forehead and brings

it back down when he feels a warm liquid. He opens his eyes to see

blood coating his fingers. Then he curses as blood runs into his

eyes. He wipes the blood away then stills. Realizing how quiet it is.

It shouldn't be this quiet. He can hear only soft sounds of breathing

and a few people moaning painfully. Logan pushes himself up and the

breath in his throat catches.



"Holy fuckin`..." he whispers. Bodies, everyone lying in either a

pool of blood or a mangled mess of their own limbs. Logan narrows his

eyes as a few groan and move, trying to get up. Somebody beside him

grunts and he looks down at Bobby.



Leaning down, he puts a hand on the younger man's back. An eerie

feeling settling in the pit of his stomach at seeing everyone this

way. "Bobby...Iceman..." Logan says softly.



"I'm glad to be home, mom," Bobby murmurs. Logan grabs his shoulders

and shakes him lightly. Suddenly Bobby snaps to, his eyes going wide.

"Lo...Logan?!" he says, not sure for a moment where he is. He tries

to push himself up, "Oh God."



"Woah, Woah, Woah," Logan says, pushing him down, "You hurt?"

Bobby sighs and looks down at himself, "I don't think so . Not bad."

Then he looks up at Logan. "Your head!!" He reaches for it but Logan

snatches his hands.



"Go help somebody who needs fucking help!" he growls, pushing away

from Bobby and looking back at all the people lying on the floor of

the Blackbird. As his eyes roam over the people, he catches red, long

red hair.



"Jean!" Logan says and falls to his knees at her side. "Jean!" he

pants, grabbing her blood covered face.



"Is she alright?!" Bobby steps up behind him, staring down at her.

"I don't know!! Go get everyone else up!!" he screams, wiping his

hand through her hair and wiping blood from her cheek.

Bobby hesitates before stomping over to somebody who is picking

themselves off the ground.



"Jean!" Logan says again, then curses when the only response he gets

is her hissing in a deep breath. Logan quickly checks her pulse. It's

a slow quite unsteady rhythm. He lets his eyes wander down her body

and he notices the ragged rising and falling of her chest and the

gash across her middle, blood seeping from the wound slowly. He

reaches up and touches it, pulling back quickly when she groans and

takes in a breath through her teeth. Logan moves her gently and

prepares to lift her when tight fingers wrap around his wrist. He

looks down.



A woman, soft features overcome by pain and fear. Brown eyes as dark

as night...or death. Red lips the color of the trickles of blood

seeping from them. Her short locks of dark hair matted with so much

blood he can't tell the true color. The face he knows already is the

face of a dead woman, before she even says anything. Before he even

looks at the rest of her body. He can smell the blood, tears, the

death. Her body ends just below her stomach, her legs severed off by

a huge, sharp beam that came crashing down over top of her. Her

fingers tighten around his arm with her last ounce of strength. Her

face burns itself into his mind.



"I can't move, please. Help me, I can't move!!" she wails at

him. "Please!!" Logan bends over her, brushing her hair from her

face. "Please," she whispers.



"Shh..." Logan sounds. He looks up as Bobby and Jubilee pass, both

torn and beaten but alive, thank God. "Bobby!" he calls. "Get Jean

outta this plane. She's hurt bad. Be careful! Jubilee, there's a man

over there moaning loud enough to wake the dead, help him now!"



Jubilee nods and moves to the man with his arm twisted the wrong

direction, moaning incoherently in pain. Bobby moves to gently lift

Jean.



"Please," the woman below him says quietly, clutching at him. "Why

can't I move? It can't end like this." She blinks slowly but her eyes

are forced open. Logan frowns sadly and wraps one arm under her while

his claws slide out in the other. He can feel the warm blood oozing

into his tattered uniform, coating his skin underneath.



"Wolverine?" Jubilee says in question, unsure of what he's doing.

Logan doesn't look up.



"Quiet, kid," he snaps. The dark eyes lock onto his and he says, "It

won't end like this. You can be sure of that."



"Please," she whispers, eyes now knowing and desperate.



"Shh...Relax...you won't feel a thing." His claws push into her

chest, into her heart. Her body jerks but then stills in his arms.

Black eyes staring up at nothing, unseeing, un-living. Logan slides

his claws back into his hand and stares down at the woman. Then he

reaches up and closes her dead eyes, shutting them away from his own

gaze.



"Wolverine?" Jubilee says again.



"Woulda kept living for hours," he says, lifting himself up off the

plane floor. "She was a mutant, blood was too thick to bleed to death

quickly."



Logan walks away, toward another portion of the plane to help people

that might need assisting. A few people are now up and moving,

seeming to be fine. Logan feels Jubilee's eyes on his back and can't

keep his eyes off the dead corpse of a woman lying feet away from

him.



This was a massacre.





*********





Remy cautiously opens one of his eyes, catching a grasp of his

surroundings. A square room, bare from floor to ceiling. But he's not

alone.



"Where...?" Storm asks quietly, just waking up too, a few feet away

from Remy's feet.



"Shh..." someone says sharply.



"Some cell of some sort," Cyclops whispers, crawling over to Storm.

He is stripped of everything except his pants and visor. Well, a

version of his visor, more like red glasses held tightly on his head,

no way of taking off unless he wanted to blast everyone in the room.

Storm also is stripped of anything she might have been able to use as

a weapon. Realizing this, Remy reaches down for his playing cards but

finds them gone. He curses harshly and also finds his jacket and

cigarettes missing.



"'Dey take everythin' Remy have," he says.



"Yeah, they stripped us clean as soon as we got here," Cyclops says.



"We must find a way out," Storm says, trying to push herself up. But

she winces and Remy notices the multiple cuts and gashes down her

body. None looking clean or not blood covered.



"T'ink you should stay down, chere," Remy says as Cyclops holds her

to a sitting position. "Got a feelin' you goin' need yo energy

for `dis."



"We need to contact Xavier somehow," Cyclops puts in, looking up at

Remy, who shrugs.



"Remy no telepath, mon ami."



"We need to think. Think. There has to be a way out of here," Cyclops

continues as if Remy hadn't spoken. He leaves Storm and stands,

looking up at the ceiling, at the walls, at the solid rectangular

door, his jaw tightening and grinding as his mind works. Remy then

notices all the other people in the room with them. Everyone who had

come on this mission with them, mutant and human alike, all sitting

or standing in a mass. So, the room is larger then Remy had first

thought. He looks back to Storm, her head held low and eyes closed.



He begins to pull himself up, thinking she is really hurt then she

mouths some word he can't hear or read on her lips. A soft word,

maybe someone's name. He can pick up by her body posture she's not

hurting...well, not physically. Remy settles back down against a

wall, watching her for a moment longer before pushing his attention

to his surroundings.



It's a tight box...solid. Even he can't see a way of breaking out of

it. But then, someone will have to open that door sometime soon. He

smiles slightly.