t/w: panic attack and mentions of the word su*cide

CHAPTER FIFTEEN...

I don't sleep for the rest of the night. Instead, I sit at the window seat, gazing out across the lawn of the manor I might never see again. Erik's words last night ring around my head like a merry go round. I care about you, I care about you, I care about you. I take a shaky breath as the sun seeps into the grass, morning dawns bright and glorious. That's why I have to kill Shaw.

I look down at the watch around my wrist, the large hand moves to the 7, and I sigh. It's time to get up fully. It's time to prepare. Time to face Shaw. The thought brings a new wave of nausea crashing down on me, but that's not all. I roll my shoulders and get up from where I sit, wiping the drowsiness out of my eyes.

Not only am I terrified, but I am also determined. We are going to take down Shaw today. We are going to stop him and his Hellfire club. We are going to bring this to an end, once and for all. I'm already dressed, having changed after 30 minutes of trying to fall back asleep. I'd needed to be ready, because I couldn't lie there any longer, my thoughts devouring me every moment I closed my eyes.

There is a clamor behind the door, and then a knock. I stretch out my stiff limbs, wipe my tear-stained eyes, and open it. When I see who it is, I almost call for help, because I don't recognize them. But then she smiles, and I curse myself for being so stupid.

"Ready?" Raven asks me. I take a good look at her before I respond. Something has changed, because the Raven I'm looking at doesn't have the luscious golden locks or pale, creamy skin that I've grown used to. Instead it's replaced with sapphire blue skin adorned with intricate shapes, a shock of fiery red hair slicked back to reveal her enchanting, cat-like eyes. Though it's drastically different than what I know, I can't deny that she looks pretty amazing.

"Ye-yes," I say, stumbling over my words. "Very ready." Raven grins, then holds out a hand.

"Good." she says. "Let's go." I grab her hand and we prance downstairs into the foyer, then down the hall to where everyone has gathered around Hank's laboratory. Alex and Sean stand at the back, looking incredibly unprepared. Sean winks at me, but nothing about it seems genuine. Raven pushes her way to stand behind Erik and Charles, who stand at the front. Moira clings to Charles' side.

They're terrified, I can sense their fear floating off their bodies. It only enhances my own, and I hold my breath, biting my lip at the cold rush that washes over me. When I get to the front, standing in between Charles and Erik. There is a white slip of paper taped to the entrance, and that's when I realize he's not with the rest of us.

The paper reads: Gone to the airbase, bring the crate marked X. We all stare at it for a second, then Charles rips the paper down and opens the door. He walks inside hastily, then immediately stops, transfixed by whatever sight lays in front of him. We all quickly move around Charles to see what's the matter.

Charles moves away, I stop in my tracks. The entire laboratory has been ransacked. Tables overturned and beaten to a pulp, glass vials are smashed, strange liquids seep from the carcasses of the tubes that once held them, and the only thing left standing is a metal chest at the back of the room. Charles walks over the wreckage, his face unreadable.

"What the hell happened here?" Erik asks, his voice low. I don't look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. After last night, I don't know where Erik and I stand. He said he cared about me, and I realized I loved him like a father, but then he told me he'd kill Shaw, and everything changed.

"Charles doesn't respond, he only goes farther to the back of the room. I follow Alex and Sean as they go to him. I step over shattered glass and dented metal, my breathing getting more ragged with each step. It looks as if a demon unleashed itself upon the lab, and I wonder what it did to Hank.

Raven stays at the front of the room, her face contorted in pain. I don't ask her what's wrong, because Charles has made it to the box labeled X. I come up beside him as he places one hand on the metal.

Together the two of us open the box. My breath catches in my throat as we lay our eyes upon what the box contains. Everyone gathers around the chest. I reach one hand down and place it upon the yellow and black suit labeled Leena.

"Hank has been busy." Erik says. I look up at him and smirk.

"Do we really have to wear these?" Alex asks. I pull mine up and trace my hand over the intricate weaving. The suit feels heavy, and when I look closer, the fabric appears to be stitched like a honeycomb.

"As none of us have mutated to endure extreme g-force," Charles says. "Or being riddled by bullets, I suggest we suit up." Each one of us grab our suits. Alex holds his up distastefully. In the center of the sunshine and ebony sits a strange, circular contraption. I frown, but don't ask him what it is. Mine looks exactly the same as Raven's, made to fit a female figure, however there is one, slight difference.

My suit is almost completely black. Dark fabric overlaps on top of itself, weaving a tapestry of night over my suit. The only specks of yellow can be found in the seams along the legs and arms and neck, tiny pops of colour that look like rivers of sunlight.

When Alex sees my suit in better detail, he scowls. "No fair, how come Leena's get's to look cool?"

Sean perks up and takes a closer look at the fabric. "Because she's Phantom, Alex." he says matter-of-factly. I smile and look back down at my suit. Everyone else's is the same amount of yellow and black intermingled, with different contraptions sewn in to help their abilities. The only one that feels remotely close to mine is Moira's, which is a light pewter grey. Charles backs up with his suit and turns around.

"Meet us in the foyer in 30 minutes." he says. "That should give you enough time to sort everything out before we drive to the hangar at the airbase."

"Hangar?" I ask, Charles hadn't told me about this part of the plan. Now that I realize it, I don't actually know how we will be getting to Cuba.

Charles turns back around and nods. "The CIA have a jet for us to get over to Cuba. Apparently, we're also meeting Hank there." I can sense the worry oozing from his words like tar. No one has seen Hank since last night, and I can't deny something about the whole thing doesn't sit right with me.

"The cars are waiting outside." Moira says. Everyone nods in agreement, then each of us leaves the room, heading up to change. I notice Raven hanging back, and when I walk closer to her, guilt and anxiety hit my stomach. I curl my hands into fists and go up to her, placing a tentative palm on her shoulder.

Raven jerks and spins around hastily, her eyes flaring. When she sees it's only me, her face and posture relax.

"Oh," she breathes. "It's only you." I frown at her words. Something about the way she seems to deflate under my hand tears a crack in my heart. Something is definitely wrong.

"Are you alright, Raven?" I ask her, looking around once to make sure no one is within earshot. "You're anxious and very very guilty. What's wrong?"

Raven frowns and leans closer to me, then whispers. "It's Hank. Last night he came to my rooms with a 'cure'." My brows scrunch together. "It's supposed to hide our appearance but not affect our abilities." I nod cautiously. I remember hearing about Raven's insecurities as a passing comment from Charles, though I don't think he knew I was listening. Now I understand why Raven and Hank got so close. They both despised the way they looked, really looked, and bonded over it. But now Raven's embraced who she is, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Hank hasn't.

"And you refused to take it." I say. Raven nods, hanging her head.

"I told him not to," she responds. "I told him he was beautiful the way he is, and that he shouldn't have to hide it. He didn't listen to me." I place my other hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure he's fine, Raven."

"How can you be sure? He was so angry last night." Raven's voice is laced with anguish, and without warning she pulls me into a hug. I startle and take a step back, but don't let go. After several moments, Raven pulls back.

"Anyway," she says, composing herself. "We have bigger things to worry about. I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

I smile. "I don't mind."

Raven grins and ruffles my hair. "You really are wise beyond your years, aren't you?" I shrug, and Raven laughs. I stop, realizing there's one more thing I need to tell her.

I take Raven's hand and look into her eyes. "Raven, I know you probably are already aware of this, but you are perfect the way you are. No one should ever tell you what form you should be in. Don't listen to Hank, he's wrong, which is a first, but it's true." Raven smiles.

"That's exactly what Erik said." she replies, then squeezes my hand once more and goes upstairs. I pause for a moment, taking a deep breath. I look down at the suit, the fabric falling over my palms like a molten river. Black as night and soft as crushed velvet, this is the kind of suit for a fighter. It's been made for someone who will twist and move with the grace of a warrior. It's been made for someone who won't hesitate to do what it takes to bring someone down. It's been made for someone flying into the middle of a war zone.

It's been made for me.

The thought careens in my head and in my heart, sucking all the air from my lungs. The walls close in around me, taunting me. Me, I'm supposed to wear this. I'm the one leaving to go to Cuba.

Me.

I fall backwards, my back hitting the side of the stairs with a painful crunch. Air seems to be lost on me, a foreign concept I am nowhere near close to understanding. My hands begin to shake, sweat drenching my hands and the back of my neck like glorious morning dew on the eve of dawn. My hair, dark sable locks like corkscrews falling into my eyes. I don't push them away. All thoughts, all senses of normalcy seems to be gone from my head. They all focus their point, as sharp as the tip of a gleaming dagger, towards one singular notion, if you could even call it that.

Me, I'm going to fight Shaw, I'm going into the middle of a beginning of a war and I'm going to see him again. I force my legs --as shaky as a blade of grass in the wind-- to take me up the stairs. Stumbling with the force of desperation, I reach my bedroom and tumble into it's depths.

I'm going to fight.

Closing the door with a bang, I sink into the floor, shaking my head viciously, tears glistening on my cheeks. No, I can't, I can't do it. I throw the suit away from me. It lands on one of the sofas. I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it.

Why did I think I could do this? How did I believe I could fight him? What was wrong with me, believing I could fly over and face Shaw once more? It's impossible, incomprehensible. It's suicide.

I can't do this.

The room erupts into darkness. Energy pours from my hands like liquid fire, a reincarnation of all my pain colliding into a blackened sky. A cosmos. An entire universe. It bursts through my skin and begins dancing around me. I look up. The images that lay before me are blurry from all the tears. I blink them away.

My power twirls around me in a terrifyingly gentle waltz. They are not the flashes and careens I am used to. Instead, they are slow, like ink in oils, suspended in the air. They are calm, for once, and it pains me that I don't know why.

The darkness comes to me, it twists in my outstretched hands.

What happens next makes the stars tilt sideways.

When the energy seeps into my hands once again, it feels as if a beam of sunlight has drenched my palm in pale fire. I shudder, a shaking gasp falling from my lips as the dark energy all but disappears from the room.

But I am not cold.

That is when it happens. That is when something inside me changes.

It's like the flip of a switch, the clouds finally receding to reveal the sun. My eyes dawn upon the vast, lava-filled sphere, and in it's stead, the realization envelopes me in all it's glory.

I can't give up now.

I have spent weeks here, fighting, training, falling and getting back up again. I've seen him before, he's grasped my hand and called my name. I've lost control and gained it once more. I've fought and I've failed and I've won. In this time, ever since a man on a yacht grabbed my hand and leapt with me off the side, I have found a family. I've got Sean, who looks at me like I could take on the world and he will always be the first to praise my name. I've got Raven, who never questioned why I was with a bunch of adults when I was only a kid. I have Alex and I had Darwin, who though they teased and tousled, accepted me without fail. I have Moira, who is harsh and stubborn but always wants what's best for all of us.

And then there is Charles and Erik. Two sides of the same coin. Anomalies in their own right. They're my real family, if not by blood then by love. If it hadn't been for them, I wouldn't be here right now, I wouldn't be the girl able to pull energy out of thin air. If it weren't for them, I would still be the broken, bruised, weak little girl, a fragile bird who had forgotten how to fly.

If it hadn't been for Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr, I wouldn't have found my wings.

I can't give up now. I owe it to them, I owe to all of them, to stand and fight once more. I'll have to see Shaw, and when I do, I might freeze, I might break down in fear at the memories that resurface.

But until then, I'm going to stand. I'm going to be Phantom, and I'm going to fight.

I get up from where I sit, wiping away the tears, pushing my hair out of my eyes. I rush over to where my suit lays discarded on the floor, like a crumpled sheet of paper.

I pick it up and waltz over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with a determined snap.

✶✶✶

I stand in the hangar at the military airbase several minutes drive from the manor, my black and yellow suit clings to my frame nicely, with only the arms being a little too long. Everyone else stands in a line beside me. I'm squished between Raven and Erik. We all look up at the sleek metal jet sitting in the hangar. The doors to the base are open, letting in a stream of morning light.

The jet is the most beautiful plane I've ever seen. The design is sleek and unlike anything I saw at the facility. Ebony black with a pointed nose and almost invisible doors, the ship looks like something out of a science-fiction novel.

"Where's Hank?" Raven asks from beside me. We all turn to look at her. She's still in her true form, and she wears the exact same yellow suit as the rest of them, but I have to admit, it looks better on her than it does any of the men. I firmly decide right then and there that Raven could look good in anything.

A voice from the shadows startles me. "I'm here." It takes a moment for me to discern it, but when I do, it's undeniably Hanks' voice. We all look to where the silhouette of the jet casts a black veil over where Hank should be standing. I squint my eyes to get a better look, but can't see anything.

As the figure moves closer, I begin to realize his silhouette isn't the lanky, tall Hank we've come to know. He's grown, that's for sure, with leaner muscles and a stockier build, but that's not why Erik and I share a look. It almost looks as if he has... fur?

"Hank?" Charles asks, calling to the figure.

When the man steps fully into the light, I almost have to cover my mouth to hide my gasp. Hank does have fur, and he's blue. Tufts of cerulean hair jut out from around his face, framing cheekbones and eyes that look almost animalistic. His nose is scrunched more and when I look down, I can see yellow claws protruding from where Hank's nimble fingers once were.

The only thing that's the same is his glasses. Round and half-framed, they are undeniably Hank's spectacles. Everything else is different.

"It didn't attack the cells." Hank says. "It enhanced them." He looks down scornfully. "It didn't work." My heart breaks for the man at his pained words. Before I can say or do anything, Raven steps forward slightly.

"Yes it did, Hank." she says calmly. She smiles, tilting her head to the side. "Don't you see? This is who you were meant to be." She places a hand on his shoulder as he steps closer to her. "This is you." I smile warmly. I might not understand what it's like to not be able to hide my ability from the world, but I do understand what it's like to find who I truly am.

"No more hiding." Raven says. I grin up at Erik, who claps Hank on the shoulder as if he's a fellow brother.

"Never looked better man," he says. In an instant, Hank's hand has flown out and grasped Erik's neck, choking him. I gasp and place two hands on Hank's arm, trying to pull him away.

"Hank!" both Charles and I yell. Hank growls, his face contorted with rage, and never has he seemed more terrifying. I release his arm, not wanting to get injured before the real fight.

Hank leans closer to Erik. "Don't," he says. "mock me."

"Hank." I whisper. He doesn't seem to hear me. Erik's face turns red from the strain, grabbing onto his neck and pulling at Hank's firm grip.

"Hank, put him down immediately please." Charles says more urgently. Hank chooses not to listen. A vein pops in Erik's forehead. I think about pulling Hank away again, but I'm not that strong.

"Hank." I say, this time my voice is louder and more clear.

"Hank!" Charles yells. That does it, and Hank releases Erik, the man dropping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I don't hesitate, and move down to reach eye level with Erik, placing a hand on his back.

Erik looks up at Hank. "I wasn't." he says menacingly.

"Even I got to admit, you look pretty badass." Alex says, his arms crossed. I narrow my eyes at him, but sense no amusement in his words. He's being completely genuine. He's telling the truth, which is probably the thing that most surprises me.

"I think I got a new name for you," Alex continues. "Beast."

Hank sighs, but it comes out as more of a growl, and I force myself not to take a step back. He does look like he could take out an entire legion of tanks with one hand, and I gotta give to Alex, Beast is a really good name.

"You sure you can fly this thing?" Sean asks, breaking the silence. He looks up at the jet. We all turn to Hank expectantly.

"Of course I can," Hank replies. "I designed it." That's confirmation enough, and we all head to where the entrance to the ship is now lowering to the ground. Everyone marvels at the beauty of it, taking their seats around the plane. I stand at the entrance, no one paying attention to me.

This is it. Once I step over this threshold and buckle in, there's no going back. I'm going to go to Cuba and help stop a war. I'm going to take down the Hellfire club with the assistance of these people I now call family.

I'm going to take down Shaw.

Without glancing backwards, I take one more step, and enter the jet. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE...

AHHHH next chapter is where the real fight begins! This chapter was a little short but it needed to be in order to flesh out Leena's character a bit, and though it was incredibly painful to write, her panic attack was necessary for how things are going to go later. I myself have struggled with panic attacks before so I was purely writing from experience, but I know that they can be different for each person, so if it seemed fake or poorly written, that is why. 

ALSO, what do you think of Leena's power now feeling warm instead of cold? 

That's all, so excited to continue on with this story, we are almost reaching the end of part one! 

Love, Mal