━━ A LOSING BATTLE

THE SUN IS FADING FAST on the horizon.

Purple and orange paint the sky like a brush stroking a blank canvas. In my hands, a steaming cup of cocoa threatens to burn through my sleeves, but I barely notice. The night seeps through the cracks of the study. I sit with my knees to my chest, staring out the window, but barely comprehending the view. My mind is elsewhere, torn in two.

After waking back in the present, I quickly got up, and ran out of the room. Both Charles and Logan called after me, but I couldn't answer them, not with what was running through my mind. Bile had risen in my throat, and the shadows threatened to burst through my skin.

While Charles and the others tried to communicate with Raven through Cerebro, I clambered upstairs and rushed to the washroom, where I promptly threw up all my lunch and spent a good ten minutes hyperventilating in front of the mirror.

Everything I'd pushed down, everything I'd tried to forget, was released with that trip into Logan's mind. The dark energy pulses with newfound purpose, and my head fractures, against my own will.

The world seems to spin, caught off axis, and it's giving me a headache. My heart aches for what I saw in the Future. Erik and Charles together, fighting side by side, no longer enemies. A family. A unit. Home. It's something I miss more than I can put into words.

Why couldn't we stay together? Why couldn't we find a way to work with each other, here at the Manor? I can just imagine it. Erik outside, teaching the students self defense, driving everyone crazy with his hard stares and unforgiving criticisms. Charles would be inside, watching from his office, helping the students with their studies, serious but calm. I would be sitting on a bench, watching them all, a book in my hands, perhaps that little boy able to bend light sitting beside me.

I would tell them stories, show them the dark energy, encourage them to work hard and have fun while Erik and Charles only focused on academics.

The images were so clear, so perfectly, incandescently vivid, that for a split second I thought it was real. It came and went quickly, a fleeting moment where I dreamt life was different.

In actuality, we're divided. Erik has gone, betraying my trust for what he thinks will bring peace. Raven is conflicted, far out of any of our reaches, set down her own path. Charles is renewed, but still wary, I can feel it.

What once was has now passed, and no matter what happens, it will never be fully healed again.

"Leena." I jolt upwards as Charles' hoarse voice cuts through my thoughts. The hot chocolate almost spills down the front of my shirt, and I sit up instantly, craning my neck to see the man sitting in the doorway. His face is grave, and it's clear his mind is elsewhere.

He doesn't even notice that I've almost burnt my whole front-side, and simply states. "I got to her." He doesn't need to specify who he's talking about.

"Where is she?" I blurt out, setting my mug down on the table and getting up from my spot. He takes a deep breath, hesitating before answering, which is never a good sign. I can feel my face fall before he even opens his lips.

"She's on a plane to Washington, DC." he answers finally. "I don't know what she's doing there, but..." he looks down to his lap. "She wouldn't listen to me." I sigh. "I tried to talk reason with her, I tried listening to her, I tried everything, Leena. It didn't work."

I gulp and move around the table, going towards the door. "Charles." he still won't look at me. "I think we both know that Raven is past the point of wanting to listen to your advice." I say it as nicely as I can. Charles' shoulders stiffen, but I see a slight nod of his head, and he finally looks up at me. Tears glisten on the brim of his eyes.

I move even closer to stand in front of him, and I put a hand on his shoulder, smiling sadly. He reaches up to grip my hand, gently, now that he's seen the bruises on my knuckle.

"How are you, Leena?" he asks, voice as fragile as glass. "After looking into the future you..." he pauses. "You stayed later."

I nod. "Charles..." I laugh. "Well, you... had something more to say to me."

Charles nods. "Was it good?" There's a certain hesitation in his voice, as if he's afraid I'll react badly to his question. It's such a difference to what I'm used to that I pause, cocking my head to the side, watching him quizzically.

"Yeah..." I answer truthfully, my words slow and deliberate. "It helped... you helped." Charles lets out a deep breath, one I didn't know he'd been holding. His eyes go down to his lap, and I smile, a true, honest smile.

"Come on," he finally speaks up. "Hank has something to show us." I nod and follow him out of the study, but I don't need to look to see where we're going, the bangs and clatters from Hank's cluttered office do that for me.

I honestly don't know why he still insists on working in here. It's a cramped space stuffed full of computers and machines. I haven't a clue what they are used for, and every time he comes in, he falls asleep instantly, and I'm the one dragging his sorry behind back to his own room.

The room reeks of stale coffee and static electricity.

With all four of us crammed into the space, it makes for a very tight fit, especially with Charles' wheelchair.

"Okay," I speak up as Hank opens the doors to the room and we all pile in. What meets our gazes are exactly what I expected: rows upon rows of computer screens, wires, and stacks of film. Logan crosses his arms, back accidentally hitting a very precariously stacked pile of books. I hide a laugh. "What are we looking at?"

"I set the system I designed to record any news about Paris over all three networks." Hank answers, going to sit in his chair. "And PBS." I nod at his words. Can't forget PBS, I think, and smile at the thought.

"All three." Logan jests from the door. "Wow." I turn to him, giving him a strange look, but Logan shakes his head, warning me not to ask about it. I raise an eyebrow, but turn back around. I guess there's a lot more than three networks on TV in the future, though the concept is kind of hard to grasp in my head. Then again, Logan is from decades in the future, and robots have now been created by a man obsessed with destroying mutants, so I guess it's not totally impossible.

"Yeah." Hank answers Logan's comment. "And PBS." He whirls in his seat and hits a button on the computer. "Look what I found." the screen in front of him changes to a reporter standing outside the White House.

"Tomorrow, in front of the White house," he's saying. "The President will make his announcement. He'll be joined by Secretary of Defense Laird, and has even sought the help of renowned scientist Bolivar Trask," I suck in a breath. "His special advisor to combat this mutant issue." Everyone in the room freezes, and the air feels as if it's been pulled taut, like a rope being ready to be walked upon.

"The White House has asked..." Hank flicks off the TV screen, and when it fades to black, I can see my own shocked expression in the reflection. I quickly close my gaping mouth and wrap my arms around my torso.

"Raven doesn't realize that if she kills Trask at an event like that, with the whole world watching..." Charles speaks up, and let's his sentence go unfinished. My throat closes up at the mere thought of it, of what this could mean for the future of mutant-kind, of the future for people like me.

"Then I came a long way for nothing." Logan whispers, his eyes dark. I share a look with him, then turn as Hank speaks again.

"And there's more bad news," he says. "I saw in a report they found traces of blood in Paris." I scrunch my brows. I already knew this, from the blood I saw on the cobbled streets when Erik attacked me. My eyes widen as I realize I never told the others.

"From the bullet." I speak up. "From the bullet Erik put in her leg." Charles' gaze roams to my face, and we hold the same caution in our features.

"Yeah," Hank says. "For all we know, they already have her DNA, which is all they need." Charles puts his head on one of his hands, and my own involuntarily goes to cover my mouth.

"To create the Sentinels of the future." Logan admits. His words bring silence in their wake, and not the good kind. My head aches, a migraine taking root in the back of my skull, working it's way up. The hot cocoa no longer sits well in my stomach, and turns bitter on my tongue.

Finally, Hank speaks up again. "Now, there's a theory in quantum physics," he states. "That time is immutable." I shift from foot to foot.

"What does that mean?" I ask calmly, trying to hide the tremble of my lips.

"It's like a river," Hank explains. "You can throw a pebble into it, create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself." I see where Hank is leading this train of thought, and the thing he speaks up is like a punch straight to the heart. "No matter what you do, the river just... keeps flowing in the same direction."

"No, Hank." I whisper.

"What are you trying to say?" Logan asks. I almost don't want Hank to answer, I want to let this thread go unfinished, let the ball of yarn stay coiled together.

"What I'm saying is..." he says, and his voice clips at the end, soft and regretful. "What if the war is inevitable?" I close my eyes. "What if she's meant to kill Trask?" I can hear the pain in his tone, the hoarseness in his voice, how he barely wants to believe what he's saying. "What if this is just simply who she is?"

"No." I say almost instantly, and everyone in the room turns to look at me. It takes me a moment to realize I've said something out loud, but when I see Hank watching me, a sad look on his face, I square my shoulders and keep my breaths steady.

"No." I say again. "She's not a monster, Hank. She's still good." he begins to shake his head. "Logan didn't come all the way here for us to fail now. The future isn't lost." my voice quivers. "Raven isn't gone. Erik hasn't fallen." then the final blow. "I'm not dead." Everyone pauses. I close my mouth with a snap, but there is still more I wish to say. I'm done putting myself last in everything. I'm done letting the past control my future. I'm done wasting away.

Charles moves forward in his chair, a hand on his chin. "Leena's right." He looks up at me. "Just because someone stumbles, and loses their way..." he recites the words perfectly. "Doesn't mean they're lost forever." he chuckles softly.

I take a deep breath.

"No, I don't believe that theory, Hank." Charles continues. "And I cannot believe that is who Raven is." Hank pauses, contemplation plain on his face. He looks away. I can see his hands trembling.

"Ready the plane." I say, and look at everyone in turn. "We're going to Washington."

✶

He was doing this for her. Loud footsteps echoed across the polished tile floor. He was doing this for her. The man reached out and allowed himself into the building easily. He was doing this for all of them.

The sentence chanted in his mind, a constant, unforgiving mantra that kept him tethered to the ground, that pulled his heart back into place. He kept repeating the words, over and over, kept reassuring himself he was doing the right thing. He had to be, otherwise everything that had happened up until this point had been for nothing, and he'd lost them all.

I'm doing this for her.

Erik Lehnsherr walked with purpose down the hall of the upper levels of the Pentagon. His feet carried him forward, and as he pranced down the steps, he pulled out two steel objects clasped tightly in his palm. They swirled around his hand as he continued to weave his way through the building.

Finally, when he turned the corner, up ahead there were three guards, one sitting at a desk, the others stationed by the door. Without hesitation, Erik let the spheres fly to render the two standing unconscious. Then, the objects flew to circle the final man's head as his comrades slumped to the floor.

The guard froze, his eyes widening, and Erik walked around him to the entrance behind. However, just when the man thought Erik was no longer paying attention, he reached out one hand to sound the alarm, but fell to the floor just like the rest of the guards. Erik held out a hand, and the spheres came back to his hand.

Then, the secure metal door swung open. Air released from the pressurized space, and inside, a dim blue light erupted from the walls around him. A thin strip of glass encasing the center of the cement. Behind the glass, was one of the most precious belongings that he had ever owned. Erik took a step forward, and another, his breath catching in his throat.

He ripped off his sunglasses and peered at the helmet, then suddenly the glass shattered, and the helmet swerved into his outstretched palm. Pure metal, a fine make, one he had redesigned after stealing it from Sebastian Shaw's corpse.

As the helmet came to rest in Erik's hand, he took a long, shuddering breath.

And as he turned away, the helmet coming to rest atop his head, Erik thought only one single thing.

I'm doing this for Leena.

✶

The roar of the engine once again rumbles under my feet, reverberating throughout the lounge of the jet. I sit with my head against the window, eyes wandering aimlessly over the misshapen clouds. Across from me, Charles sits straight in his chair. I turn my head slightly to watch him. No one has said anything since we got on the plane.

The air has been sucked out of the room into the sky, and I'm starting to think if we don't land soon, we're all going to suffocate on our own misgivings.

Charles reaches a hand down to massage his thigh, and I look up at his face, twisted and clearly in distress.

"You alright?" Logan's gruff voice sounds from behind me, in his usual spot, but I don't turn around. The stench of his cigar floats through the closed space. My breath leaves my body in ragged pants as the knowledge that we grow closer to battle with every second on this aircraft. My lungs have collapsed inward, even before I stepped foot onto the plane, but now my chest tightens with each aching moment.

Charles gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Getting there," he says softly. He goes back to peering at the space above my head, and I resort back to watching the window, seeing the plains rolling down below us. The cars driving on the dirt roads are like tiny little ants going to build their home. For a second, I think that if I reach out, I might be able to touch them.

Suddenly, Logan's clearing his throat, and my attention is pulled back. Charles and I both look at the man, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"Whatever happens today," he says slowly. "I need you two to promise me something." I sit up in the chair. Charles and I share a look, but I swallow my protests.

"You've looked into my mind," Logan continues. "And you've seen a lot of bad, but..." My fists clench. "You've seen the good, too." Charles sighs. "The X-Men." He leans forward, his eyes going to my face, then back up to Charles'. "Use your powers, bring us together." He peers at me. "Guide us." He looks to Charles. "Lead us."

And now he's speaking only to the telepath. "Storm. Scott." he pauses, voice hoarse. "Jean. Remember those names. There are so many of us." His voice doesn't waver, and it's as soft as feathers. "We will need you, Professor." He leans back, and I watch him. "And you, Leena."

I smile.

"I'll... do my best.'' Charles answers, but he's uncertain, and I wring my hands in my lap. My heart clenches inside my chest, and a familiar red-headed face passes across my mind. A mischievous smile, a glint in his eyes. Then it shifts to a girl with wings like a fairy, glistening in the sunlight, an array of starlight and sunshine. Next to a boy with floppy blonde hair and a permanent frown. Finally, to a bronze-skinned man reaching out. His skin crumbles, and there is fear in her eyes as he is obliterated, becoming something ethereal, cheating death but finding a new body above such foolishness.

The X-Men. The broken, battered, and bruised X-Men. The original, the ones who rushed into a losing battle and still came out fighting. For some of them, it cost their lives, others, their minds.

And some, like me, their sanity.

"Your best is enough." Logan says plainly, and I look up at him, my eyes finding his own, mouth slightly parted. "Trust me." He gives me a smile, a soft, saddened, smile, but it's enough to carve out the darkness tugging at my chest.

I take a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs, casting out the shadows that lurk beneath my soul. Like a coursing river washing away the dirt and grime, my breath reaches deep, reverberating through my ribs, through the empty caverns of my body, until it rests atop the knot under my stomach, where the darkness lies in wait.

Your best is enough.

I gulp, and for the first time in years, a lump doesn't rise to my throat as I think back to Shaw's death, to that cursed day on the beach. Instead of thinking of the blood, I think of the sand, the smooth, quivering sand, as white as snow and hot as fire. I think of the beach palms, the vibrant colours that painted a mural in front of my very eyes.

That place has healed by now. There is no more carnage, no more destruction. Just the beach, just the trees, just what it was supposed to be. So, as I sit here, on my way to a fight I know I might win, I think about what it will look like.

Not the blood, not the tears, but what hides behind it. The beauty, the peace, the growth.

"We're gonna do this, Charles." I hear myself saying. He jerks his head up, eyes boring into my own, and I nod my slowly, my movements laboured with determination.

"We're gonna do this." I leave the sentence unfinished, my voice ending on a high note, as there is one more thing I mean to say, one more closing statement. However, I don't. I leave the silence, because I don't need to speak, Charles already knows what I'm truly trying to say.

I promise. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE...

GUYS GUYS only 2 more chapters left of this act, and the next part is the confrontation with Raven and Erik, so get excited for that! I know this chapter was short, but it's setting up the massive fight coming up next... I CAN'T WAIT. 

ANYWAYS, what did you guys think of this chapter? What are your thoughts and theories on what's gonna happen at the end of act two? Do you think Leena is gonna stay... or maybe go with Erik this time? BIG THINGS ARE COMING. 

As always, don't be afraid to comment, vote, and follow me! 

Love you, Mal