Sins of the Father

Sins of the Father Chapter Forty (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta... More is coming eventually, lol. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are marvelously wonderful for archiving/hosting! ProPhile: *poke * Morgan: *another glomp * Readers/Reviewers: Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!!


Jamie was pacing. All FOUR Jamies were pacing. "She can't just disappear!" he repeated for the sixth time in ten minutes. "Logan, where could she be?"
"I don't know," he gritted between clenched teeth. He decided that he was as close as he ever cared to be to a nervous breakdown at that point. Half of 'his' students were missing, the rest were either crying in corners, wandering around with blank expressions or completely lost as to what was going on. "Stop. Pacing!"
Jamies One, Two and Four stopped. Jamie Three vanished with an inaudible 'pop'. Jamie One, the one Logan had decided was the original, shrugged. "Sorry. It's just...can't you even find her scent?"
Logan sighed wearily, passing his hand over his eyes. "No, I'm sorry, Jamie. It faded out on the front porch." He paused, reflecting on something he had noticed. "Got really...flowery." He had written it off to perfume at first, the mental image forming already of a teenaged girl getting ready to go out, putting on just a shade too much perfume that was a fraction too old for her as she got into the car... "Does Rahne wear scent?" he asked suddenly.
"Huh? Um..." Jamie found that he actually had to think about it for a moment. "No. She says it makes her nose burn."
Logan nodded curtly. "I should've thought of that," he sighed. He had to admit to himself that he had been distracted first by the report of the accident in town, then by the brouhaha arising from finding several of the students gone without a trace. Added to the Professor's seemingly two faced activities, Logan decided he was going to need a vacation very, very soon. "Jamie, do me a favor. Call Wanda and Tabby's, see if they're there. Rahne was supposed to babysit Lucas today. Maybe she went over there instead of keeping him here."
"Okay," Jamie One and Two nodded, Four disappearing as they turned to troop to the hall phone.
Logan vented a long, harsh breath. "Fuck," he muttered, turning to head out onto the front landing. He was mentally kicking himself for missing the most glaring and obvious of indications, the powdery floral scent he had picked up where Rahne's usually one vanished. He nearly ran headlong into Jean and Scott as they entered through the front door, heads bent together in whispered confidence. "Sorry," Logan uttered, stepping to one side to move around them.
"Wait!" Jean left Scott standing in the doorway and advanced on Logan, holding her hand out to stay him. "We need to talk to you!"
"Not now, Jean. I need to do something before it's too late." He did not mean for it to sound so dire but Jean did nto flinch at the words.
Scott cleared his throat gently. "This is really, really important, Logan. It's about the three new kids."
"What is it?" Logan sighed. "Hurry."
Jean inhaled deeply then forced the words out in a rush. "Jubilee and I tried to talk to the Professor about this but one thing led to another and I really don't think he believes us. She is pretty certain Ernie was somehow influencing emotions. She had a crying jag earlier today and he seemed to be in her near vicinity every time she felt depressed..."
"Jean," Logan said patiently yet sternly, "Ernie was with Remy." He left it at that, his tone cold and flat.
Jean rolled her eyes. "That's just it... Ernie was with Remy."
Logan blinked. "Jean, you're making less sense than usual. Now I know this is a hard time for all of you but..."
"They're alive," Scott broke in. Ignoring Jean's pointed look, he pressed on. "Jean's been getting these crazy ups and downs all day, like someone is messing with her. She can't control them and says it's like someone is pushing and pulling her emotionally."
"I'm standing right here," she bit out.
"But you weren't talking," Logan cut her off. "Today's been a very emotional day. These mood swings are probably something to be expected." He stepped around her, reaching for the front door with a glare to Scott, one that clearly said "move it or lose it."
Jean groaned. "You can't understand what it's like... I'm not controlling these. I have nothing to do with it...it's not a natural sadness!"
"Talk to Emma," Logan finally growled. "She's the friggin' psychic!"
Jean stood stocks-till as the front door slammed behind Logan. "Well," she said finally, "that went better than I thought it would."
"They're not...oh, hey." Jamie stepped into view from the phone alcove in the hallway. "He outside?"
"Yeah," Scott breathed, raking his fingers through his hair. "You look like Hell, Jamie!"
"Rahne's gone," he replied, sighing and seeming to wilt.
Jean tapped her foot impatiently. "This is getting beyond ridiculous. You'd think someone by now would've figured out mutant lo-jack."1
Scott's brow twitched at this show of dark humor. "Are you sure she didn't just go to town?" he asked Jamie kindly.
"Very," he replied, nodding. "She was supposed to watch Lucas today but..." he spread his hands in a "see what happened?" gesture. "His diaper bag is right where it was dropped in the hall," he added in emphasis.
Scott's response was cut off by a sudden, high pitched gasp from Jean. She clutched at her forehead, then her stomach, doubling in pain as she sank to her knees. "JEAN!"
"God damn," she breathed weakly. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!" She hissed a breath through her teeth, tears streaming down her face as she rocked back and forth on her knees, her hands still grabbing at her midsection as if she could pluck the offending pain from her own body. "Scott, find the Professor!"
"Don't you want Beast?" Jamie asked, panicking anew, flitting to and fro like a hyperactive hummingbird. "He's the doctor!"
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Scott growled. "Jean, talk to me. Look me in the eye, Jean." Her pulse under his fingers was rapid beyond counting, her breath coming in short, pained hitches. "Jean!"
She felt her eyes roll back but she refused to let herself faint. She could feel it coming like a wave, inescapable and unstoppable. The voice was sexless and tonally flat as it echoed in her skull, "We seek you where your shadows lie, Jean Gray.2 Do not hide from us tonight."
1 An anti-theft device you put on cars.
2 The actual line is "I seek you where your shadows lie," and it's Baudelaire, I *think *.