Darker Side #2 : Daddy's little girl Written by : Charles Babineau Darker Side is a part of X-writers which is a non-profit organisation that is not backed by any organisation, individual, mush, mux, mud or whatever. Jean Grey, Martinique, Jason Wynguard and all other characters used in this story belong to and are copyrighted to Marvel and are used without permission, but we really don't mean no harm by it. Warning : Kay, as everyone knows, this title is the darker side of the X-universe, mostly dedicated to villains and stuff, so it might be a tad more dark and nasty, so I'm warning ya again : I've managed to keep it a lot more civilised than #1, although it still deals with mature subject matters, violence, still dealing with mental insanities (aside from my own ;) although it's really nothing you don't already see in those daytime soaps, but I'm warning you anyways, if you're a really really sensitive person or just like those really happy uplifting stories, you might want to skip this one, to the rest of you, enjoy! Note : This takes place before The Gambit/Wolverine mini-series... I think. Anyways, here goes the story... Jean absently fidgeted with the top button of her coat, something she often did when she got nervous, which was funny in an ironic way, for she risked her life almost daily to save and help mutant kind, she would think she would be used to it by now, have turned into a fearless super-hero, but that she wasn't. She could still be nervous or even scared like she was when she was but a mere child, and now was one of those times. She wasn't in any major danger or anything, it was probably nothing, just answering a request to meet someone concerning an 'old friend'. She usually didn't just meet up with strangers like this, knowing so little, but this felt different, important, besides, who's to say this was a stranger, it could easily be a friend that just wanted to surprise her and didn't want to ruin it. Maybe it was a pretty silly possibility, but it was the best she could think of at the time, cause she just couldn't let this drop. She looked at the left, then at the right of the cabin, and saw only one door, but two windows. The house was old and run- down with age, obviously no one bothered to renovate, but looking at the 2 numbers engraved neatly next to the door it was definitely the right place. She looked at it for a few more seconds, took a long deep breath and knocked 3 swift knocks, then just simply waited. She really wasn't sure whether she had expected someone to answer, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen. She surveyed the scene one last time, but the scene had not changed one bit. It was the same quiet peaceful site, high atop some rocky cliffs overlooking the cemetery, perhaps too peaceful. She gently twisted her hand that had somehow made it's way to the knob, her softness twisted in a loud jerk that seemed to almost rip out the handle. Jean sighed softly, her heart pounding loudly, now more jumpy than ever, all over a loose knob, or was it? She gently eased the door open and bravely took a step inside. The cabin was warm, poorly lit by a small lantern hung near one of the support beams while a bunch of containers were stocked somewhere inthe back. Jeans fingers fidgeted the button again and soon found herself unbuttoning it, adjusting the collar of her sweater. But her hand froze suddenly as she glimpsed a soft mist slowly gathering, transforming steadily into a thick smoke. She tried to focus, but her mind kept focusing on images in her head, perhaps memories of her past, glimpse of her in a motherly role, surrounded by luxury, and little girl barely 5 or six years old, sitting down, tearing apart a doll fashioned to look like Cyclops, with a small bright fire burning quietly in the background. Jean shook her head quietly, trying to make sense of these thoughts, remembering her wedding, only it wasn't Scott... Jean struggled to make sense of all these memories but they were just too many to handle, too many to read all at once, her mind flashing to the darkest ones. But far inside, the burning memory of the phoenix watched over, overpowering all the others. within seconds she felt the other telepathprobing, dragging up these memories, true or false... The woman closed her eyes, pushing away the memories, the images and even the presence that invaded her head in a forceful motion, a small painful scream before her proving her victory. She looked quietly, everything seemed normal, the images, the smoke, it was all in her head, she didn't seem in any immediate danger, but she was not alone anymore. A young woman, not more than 19 or 20 stood before her, long brown hair flowing down, hiding one side of her face, extremely dark deep eyes that seem to stare right at her soul, a form fitting body suit that hugged every inch of her body while random pieces of weaponry hung on utility belts and bracelets, but what struck Jean the most was the jacket that the woman wore.... "You like it?" The girl smiled, obviously noticing Jean's gaze on the jacket. It was old, fitting for the 18th century and really clashed withher outfit. "I don't usually wear my daddy's clothes, but I thought tonight would be appropriate." Jean looked wide eyed at the girl "You... you're Jason Wynguard's daughter?" She slapped on a big phoney exaggerated smile, curtsying nicely "I'm impressed, you remember his name. Martinique Wynguard, at your service." "I didn't know h...he had a daughter.... You're father was a wonderful man..." "Was he? Is that why you constantly broke his heart when he was living, and never bothered to go see him at the grave yard when he was dead?" Jean felt a little guilty about that, but she knew she had her reasons,or did she? "I know I should have visited him, but I had already gone tosee him at his bedside, I almost died along with him...." Martinique looked unsatisfied, "So what do you want, a medal? So you visited him one lousy time in an entire lifetime. He loved you Jean, with all his heart. He would have done anything for you, ANYTHING... but you just don't care about that, do you?" Jean was beginning to get rather irritated, but kept her cool, she knew it wasn't the child's fault, "Your father barely knew me, he was in love with a fantasy, and just attached my name to it..." She took out a small book, a diary, "Is that so..... you obviously didn't know him as well as you claim, he wasn't this insane person living in a fantasy world, he knew exactly what he wanted, he would have given you anything. The perfect house, the perfect life, anything your hearts desire, but instead you chose your husband, thinks he's like so hot with those sunglasses or something, acting all hip like if he's all that, he's gonna cheat the first chance he gets, he's NOTHING compared to my dad." It was at that point that the X-man realised she just wasn't gonna win this one... "I don't owe anything to you, I love Scott Summers and that's never going to change. I'm sorry that your father died, but please, if we could start over... your father's dead, we must move on with our lives." "That's all very convenient, don't you think? Bad things happened, we both made mistakes, heck, let's just forget and pretend everything is all happy, eh? I don't think so. A great man spent his life paying for his mistakes, went on unloved by me, my mother, his family, and I'll be damned to see it continue, my dad will get the love and respects he deserves. even if it means us all joining him...." She flung the diary at Jean, then the coat, kicking down a few containers, fluid slowly carpeting the floor. She grasped the lantern, darting it in Jean's direction, seeing it fall prematurely. Jean dodged the objects, looking over at the now locked door, and Martinique gracefully pounded on the support beams one by one with a crow bar that had been conveniently stashed near her location, watching the cabin step slowly to it's destruction. For many, the new Mastermind was simply mad, insane, but to her she was just doing something that was long overdue, she was getting back with dad, and making up for all the years she had missed with him. She took her gun, and fired at a few random places in the flames, the place falling apart rapidly, Jean was now gone from sight. She tossed the gun aside, smashing an escape hole for herself, her legs weakened by a falling piece of roof, but it hardly even slowed her departure, and she had indeed done what she had set out to do...... * * * It was almost 24 hours later, Martinique stood quietly, looking down at the cemetery smiling, a silhouette knelt quietly before the grave, small book in hand. She chuckled at the small picture in her hand, almost as if it were alive, "I imagine Jean has some pretty interesting comments about me... but I never did try to kill her.. It might have been a little drastic, but she did come to visit you... I know we've been up on the wrong foot, but I'm gonna make it up to you Daddy, I promise, I love you Dad, and I'm gonna make sure no one will ever forget the name of Mastermind." She brought the picture close to her heart for just a second, before putting it away again, and then turned around and just simply walked away. ****************************************************************************** Well, that's it for this one. You got to see the wonderful adventure of the Brotherhood trying to get the legacy virus cure, but what about those who wait? Don't miss next issue for a touching Pyro story -- *Marysia* | The Original Holy | "Live without your Keeper of the | Virgin of the | sunlight. Love with Labyrinth Flame | Church of Xbooks | out your heartbeat." ---------------------------------------------------------- Editor in Chief of x-writers at majordomo@minuteman com