Chapter Text
Lingering Spirits 1: Revenent
by Lucinda
She was a spirit, her body slain by her sister/progenitor. She was still here, still waiting and watching from the astral plane. She had felt herself die, felt her last breath of air turn sour and choking in her lungs, felt as her body shut down, and everything had gone dark. But she was still here, still watching, waiting. Jean had taken her child away, her little Nathan. Now, Scott would have what he'd always wanted, his beloved Jean, and his wonderful darling baby boy... and she was dead.
It wasn't fair. She would have done almost anything for Scott. She had been his wife, his devoted wife, willing to follow him to the ends of the earth, or beyond, just to be with him. Just to try to live happily ever after with him. He had been a hero, one of the X-Men. HE had been away from her so often, fighting for the Dream, to help those in need. She had accepted that, had understood that Scott needed to be a hero.
But then came the phone call, that evil, horrible phone call. Jean Grey was alive. His first love, the one that he had mistaken her for, was alive. He had packed his bags immediately, to go to her. He had come back, physically, but she had watched as he grew more distant from her, until his mind was almost never there with her, always away, with the other one, the other redhead, his precious Jeannie, released from her bottle, a cocoon at the bottom of a bay.
Scott had left her alone, and she had had to flee for her life, running from terrible people that wanted to kill her, to kill her unborn baby. She had got away, but it had left a scar, not physically, but mentally. They had tried to kill her because of her husband, and he hadn't even been there to try to save her. He had been away, with HER.
Perhaps the downward spiral had started with the phone call, or perhaps it had been the killers in the night, but she had started to doubt her value, to doubt her worth in the eyes of others, particularly in the eyes of her husband. He had even asked if she would grow her hair longer, and it wasn't until later that she had learned that Jean had always worn her hair long. Had she become nothing more than a substitute? Had she ever been more than an imitation, a double for the woman that he had really wanted?
They had her son. The one good thing that she had done and she had nearly killed him, just to lash out at Scott... no, not just at Scott. There was also Sinister, the monster that had created her. She had been grown from a sample of Jean's tissue, a clone with no life, and no past of her own. Jean had died, and he had wanted her to bear children, to carry on her genetic legacy. When she had died, he had created Madalyne, a second chance for the Grey genes to be passed on. He had created her to be a walking womb, and placed her where Scott would find her, knowing that he would want any shadow of Jean that he could get.
She had wanted so badly to be needed, to have Scott need her. At the time, she hadn't thought anything of it, believing it normal for a woman who was desperately in love. Her life had revolved around him almost from the moment that they had met. He had become her everything.
But here, now that she was no more than a ghost, a memory of who she used to be, a presence in the astral, she could think clearly. Sinister had created her to produce offspring with Scott. He had implanted her piloting abilities. Had he also played with her mind, shaped her behavior and attitudes so that she would become so dependant on Scott? Was her near compulsive need for Scott and to be with him, to make him happy the failsafe of an evil scientist?
Or had it been something else? She had awakened after Jean's death, her body sparked into activity by the returning Phoenix Force, carrying with it fragments of Jean's essence and memories. The memories of a happy family had been Jean's. Had she only loved Scott because Jean had loved him? Had her feeling been nothing more than a carry-over from a dead woman, delivered by a fiery shape?
The other thing that bothered her was, well, why was she still here? Weren't the spirits of the dead supposed to go... somewhere? Some sort of heaven or hell or reincarnation or something? Not this, not hanging on the astral plane, waiting for something, some change or continuation of her journey or some metaphysical something or other. Her body was dead. So, why was her spirit still here? Did the bargain that she had made with S'ym have something to do with why she hadn't moved on?
About all that she could do was ponder her brief existence. Like a mayfly, she had been created, reproduced, and then she had died. Gone out with a dramatic final defiant gesture, transforming the whole city into a demon land... But her defiant gesture had been forgotten, explained away by the people of Manhattan, left to rot in the past of the X-Men. Her son had been taken away, raised by Scott and his perfect Jean.
She could only ponder, and wait, and consider. If she had the opportunity to leave the astral plane, she would do it. No matter what happened, it would surely be an improvement to this horrible nothingness. To move on to an afterlife, as long as it wasn't this void would be good. Or to be reborn, to have a new life, a real life, that would be something. Perhaps she could even step into a body, if one was left vacant?
The spirit of Madelyne could only wait, and watch for a chance, any chance.
End Revenant.