Kiss of the Phoenix

There's Never A Quiet Moment

My Dad turns to me as soon as we get out, a permanent scowl etched on his face. "Sang," he says, his voice tight. "You do not move a muscle until I say so, you understand?"

"But, Dad, you don't know how to help, I'm the only one who can-" I argue, but he holds up a hand, and I can see I've pushed him too far.

"Sang, you agree, or you're going back into the X-Jet, and you're never going on another mission again, you understand?" he replies, and I reluctantly nod, wishing for the millionth time that I was born a Howlett, not a Summers, wishing my mother had chosen Logan, not stupid Scott, wishing that my mother was still alive, wishing that my father hadn't been so prideful during the Schism, wishing that I was an X-Man, not a citizen of Utopia.

My Dad turns around, and leaves us at the X-Jet, marching off to the Morgan estate, hand and hand with Emma. Logan and Rogue stay behind, stand silently, waiting for us to walk away.

Kota finally breaks the silence. "Your Dad is pretty interesting," he jokes, and I snort, giving him a grateful smile at his attempt to break the tension.

"'Interesting' is not the word I would use to describe Scott Summers," I reply. "Horrifyingly emotionally absent would be better," I add, before walking after my Dad. I hear him run to catch up with me, and I hold back a smile at his puppy dog cuteness. If this was under any other circumstances, I'd be flirting with him and planning my seduction with the lessons Emma taught me on how "a woman's words are sometimes better than a wink of an eye".

But, these are different circumstances.

Our ragtag group of four trail after Scott and Emma and they make first contact.

"Victor Morgan," he booms, trying to make his voice heard over the raging storm. "My name is Scott Summers, and this is Emma Frost, and we're here to help you." He makes a motion, and I see Emma put her hands up to her head, a flash of white, as she projects his message to Victor's mind. We see his form flinch. It doesn't seem to be work. Instead, it seems to be getting worse.

Victor's messy form is getting less bone and marrow and more smoke and vapor, lightning falling from his outstretched arms, and I swear I can hear him screaming, but that might just be me.

Rogue grabs Kota's and my arms as she yanks us away from a bolt of lightning, just in the nick of time. My Dad blasts away some falling rocks in a flash of red, and I start to think.

I turn to Kota, my eyes wide. "How good of friends would you say you and Victor are?" I ask abruptly, my voice straining to be heard.

He frowns, his forehead crinkling. "We've been friends since pre-school, so pretty good, I guess-"

"Good," I interrupt him, and pull him with me, marching over to my dad. "Whatever the hell you're doing Dad clearly isn't working, and I have a plan."

Dad clenches his jaw, before slowly turning around, his thoughts like burning, pointed daggers; meant to hurt, meant to cripple, meant to kill. "Sang," he began, his voice low with warning. "What did I-"

"Dad, your plan isn't working," I interrupt, and I hear that voice in my head that I head at Kota's house come back, whispering and urging me to not listen to my father, to go help, to go protect, to go cure this boy I knew nothing bad. "What I think we need to do is that we bring Kota and me up to Victor-"