8296/A Night Of Future's Past

A Night Of Future's Past
Date of Scene:	18 October 2021
Location:	X-Factor Investigations
Synopsis:	Rachel's past comes to 'haunt' her in a nightmare, which she accidently pulls Jamie into. Warning: Sappiness, a bit of risque 'dream' at first, violence, death, and implied torture.
Cast of Characters:	Rachel Summers, Jamie Madrox

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Rachel Summers has posed:
It isn't uncommon for Rachel to have nightmares, most often in the form of horrific memories that are only able to escape her deepest, inner thoughts when Rachel's mind is unguarded and open. For the most part, Rachel's past has just remained within the realm of dreams - hidden in nightmares that plague her sleep.

Rachel has spent the past year and a half avoiding her past, burying it deep, keeping it from surfacing, keeping it from overwhelming her. She has tried to hide her shame. She has attempted to run from her guilt. Yet, at night, in the darkness of her room, all alone, Rachel's mind replays her past over, and over again, and those nightmares have continued to get worse and worse as Rachel's waking life gets brighter and brighter . . .

Tonight, Rachel's gone to sleep with hope and joy in her heart. She's experiencing the wonders of a new relationship, something that she never thought possible again with the death of Franklin. She's getting close with her father, Scott, who has expressed his love and is proud to call her - daughter. She's finding a purpose in helping those that need it with X-Factor Investigations, and for once in a long time, Rachel feels like she can laugh, and perhaps even love - but is she really deserving of such happiness?

In the darkness of night, in the stillness of the midnight hour, the sound of thrashing from Rachel's room begins. It starts out with a thumping of limbs against a mattress, and then a yell, a scream of pure terror and absolute torture. A garbled sound of extreme distress, a screeched out 'NO'.

Upon investigation, in Rachel's room the red-head is drenched in sweat, her eyes wide open as an expression of pure horror is written across her face. Her sheets are pulled into a bunch about her, as she continues to toss and turn, mumbling out a garbled sound that sometimes makes sense, but is mostly just nonsense. . .

Jamie Madrox has posed:
For Jamie Madrox, dreams and nightmares are the same as they are for many - mutant, time travler or not. Lost in a sea of faceless strangers, perhaps. Maybe back in grade school with no homework to turn in. Having to desperately use the restroom when all of the facilities are occupied. Nothing, typically, that causes screams of terror at any rate. This particular evening, however, whatever dream he is dreaming, he awakens suddenly to find the covers pulled away from him by the slender red-head in the bed next to him - exposing his otherwise unclad body to the frigid evening air. "Hey..." he mumbles, grabbing at the sheets as he tries to recall the events of the night before that led him to share the bed with her... and without any clothes, no less. Was he drunk? Was she? Did they... But no sooner are these questions asked, when Jamie jerks upwards to sound of a far-off wail of abject horror.

He's in his own bed. With his own covers over him. Clothed in his pajamas. He blinks one, twice, the vividness of the previous moments fading into the memories of the dream that they were. "Damn.." Jamie mutters to himself, one hand reaching up to run through his mussed hair. He exhales slowly, mentally admonishing his unconsious self for trying to push things along too fast with Rachel, when he hears a strangled cry coming from the red-heads room, garbled sounds and a distinct, audible 'NO!'.

Tossing off his sheed, Jamie flings open his bedroom door and runs across the hallway to Rachel's room, not even bothing to knock as he barrels in to find the woman in clear distress, apparently in the middle of some sort of night terror. Still just wearing his pajama bottoms and no shirt, as is normal for him, he surveys the room for any signs of external threat before he approaches Rachel directly, cautiously reaching out with one hand in an attempt to calm her down, to try to rouse her from the nightmare or at least give her some type of reassurance through. "Rachel," he starts to call her name gently, then louder if there's no response. "Rachel, wake up! You're having a nightmare..." As he speaks, he moves to grab her shoulder with his hand, waiting until there's an opening through her flailing and thrashing limbs to do so.

Rachel Summers has posed:
One moment Jamie is cautiously approaching the red-head who is clad in her own pajamas (which consist of an old white t-shirt with the name 'Xavier's' written across the top, and a pair of sweat pants) and the next moment, the instant that Jamie touches Rachel - Jamie will find himself ...elsewhere, or more importantly, else when.

It begins with a jolt to Jamie's mind, a feeling of swirling confusion and perhaps even floating. It ends with Jamie standing in the middle of the crumbling remains of an old building. In an instant, one can smell the scent of smoke in the air, a horrific stench of death, and blood, and gore. The time of day is either dusk, or just before the sun rises. It's difficult to tell, as a bit of light can be seen beyond the remains of the building, showing that perhaps the sun is either just starting to set, or just starting to rise. Given there is little navigation to tell which is east or which is west, only time will tell the exact moment.

All around Jamie there are people huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. There are some that might even seem familiar to Jamie, something about them that is almost recognizable. A man is hunched over the form of an obviously mutant woman. The man is tall, broad shouldered, with bits of grey darting through his blonde hair. He's wearing what looks like a black suit with large bits and pieces of fabric burned out, and within the chest, circles of white can be seen. The woman, a mutant with skin of dark red, is gasping out her last breath. "They ..." She begins. "They will ... find us."

The man's voice is strong, again a sense of familiarity within his tone. "We're safe for now.. just rest."

Other men and women in various stages of suffering, wounds, and burn marks, gashes and blood soaked clothing continue to mutter and talk, not taking notice of Jamie - at least yet.

In the distance, there is a loud rumbling of noise, and a few people begin to react to that noise in terror.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
One moment, Jamie's in Rachel's bedroom, trying to break the woman out of what can only be a nightmare, and the next - he's somewhere, somewhen, completely and utterly different. It looks and sounds like the scene from any of a dozen different post-apocalyptic movies, with half-demolished buildings, dark plumes of smoke and the soft cries and wails of the damned and the hopelss. But something that no movie or television show can replicate is the horrible stench that accompanies everything, the acrid odor of burnt concrete and steel, the sour stench of death and the dying.

It takes Jamie a moment to process everything, and he doesn't even notice at first that he's still wearing just his pajama bottoms, bare chested and barefoot amongst the rubble of this derelict building. It takes him a moment more to notice somewhat familiar faces amongst those that huddle together for warmth or comfort or some combination of the two. The man that's trying console some of the others... Is that? It couldn't be... But the voice is even more reconizable than the face or the apparel. "Alex?!" Jamie exclaims, starting to move towards the man before he steps on a sharp piece of brick and lets out a brief yelp of pain and surprise. Glancing downwards, he picks his path carefully amongst the rubble as he begins to move again, trying to get the man's attention. "Alex! Havok! Is that you? What... Where are we? What's going on? What's happened?" Jamie gestures a bit wildly around the area as he asks the questions, ending with, "How'd you get so *OLD?*"

Then, the noise in the distance starts, a mechanical rumbling and thrumming that causes more than just fear in a few of those gathered near. It's a reaction of pure terror, of hopeless fright. Jamie's eyes scan from those individuals to what can be seen of the horizon - he still can't tell whether it's morning or evening yet - trying to see what it is that's causing the noise, that could be the source of such terror. "That... That's not a good sound, is it?" he asks then, swallowing.

Rachel Summers has posed:
"Everyone stay quiet, the tunnel entrance is not far from here. We can get there, and make it - make it onward, away from here." It's the older blonde man that speaks, his dull blue eyes - aged with time and the terrors he's witnessed turn to cast a glance towards Jamie, though his attention is soon back onto the mutant woman. The woman, who's skin is as red as a ripe tomato, lets out a soft breath, her chest ceasing its movement as the blonde man's hand gently squeezes hers once, before letting go.

A resolve of anger and pain is set into his strong jaw, as he rises upwards to stand. "You." And he points to Jamie, or perhaps it's to the person behind Jamie. "I don't know your name, but help me with scouting out the area. Everyone else, round up the wounded and continue towards the tunnels. We have time before the Sentinels get here - if we're smart and don't panic. They aren't going to be able to find us in all this rubble."

Without another word, the tall man in the black suit begins to move towards the exit of the building, tromping through the debris with a silent and skillful motion. A glance outside shows the ruins of what has to be Manhattan, familiar land marks can be seen all around, now crumbled and destroyed. The biggest is the remains of a large television that can be seen in the middle of a big roadway. Far, far into the distance, large glowing purple lights can be seen coming from enormous, monstrous robots.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Stay quiet - sure, that's easy for /him/ to say. Jamie's still trying to wrap his head around where he's at, let alone how he got there. And now fifty-year-old Alex Summers wants him to stay queit? It's all Jamie can do not to keep shouting, asking anyone who will listen what in the name of Ben Grimm's Aunt Petunia is going on. For a moment, though, Jamie's confusion and growing fear are abated, as... is it true, Alex is looking at him, acknowledging him? Maybe Jamie will get some answers yet! But no, just as quickly, the aged warrior looks away again.

Then, to make matters worse, when Alex does turn towards Jamie once more, he actually pretends as if he doesn't even *know* Jamie! "What...?!" Jamie blurts out. "You don't know my *name?!* C'mon, Alex! It's me, Jamie Madrox! Look, I know you've gotten old and apparently your memory's the first thing to take a hit but... Dude, the peanut butter jar. You have to at *least* remember the peanut butter jar!! I..." Jamie blinks a bit then, suddenly realizing something. What if Alex wasn't pointing to him? What if Alex can't even see him? After all, it's not like anyone has really, directly acknowledged his presence. You'd think that *someone* would take notice of a guy in nothing but a pair of flannel PJ bottoms, right? With a half-hopeful, half-fearful look, Jamie turns to look at the scene behind himself, praying that there's some guy there giving Alex a thumbs up or striding off after the former X-Factor leader. But while there's a person there, directly in the path of where Alex pointed, he's helping another one of the wounded mutants, his back to Jamie. Jamie looks between the nameless mutant and Alex a couple of times, before Alex begins to stride off with grim purpose and resolve. "Aw, nuts..." Jamie mutters, before he starts to pick his way carefully but as quickly as he can through the rubble after him.

"Ow.. ow.. ow..." he can't help but exclaim with seemingly every other step, as the terrain is just not very forgiving to bare feet, even in this makeshift shelter. He glances to the other mutants who are gathering their things, preparing to retreat to these tunnels that are supposedly nearby. "Um... anyone have some shoes I can borrow? Boots maybe? I mean... Heck, I'd take some flip-flops or a pair of bunny slippers right now..." He winces as he steps on another sharp piece of rubble, exclaiming in pain again. "Gah!! Okay, I really have newfound respect for John McClain in Die Hard now..." Jamie then scrambles as best he can to catch up to Alex, calling after the man. "Alex - Havok! C'mon, wait up. It's me, Jamie, your pal... Jamie Madrox, the Multiple Man!" An almost visible light bulb appears over his head then, as he holds his hand outwards. "Look, how many people have you ever known who can do *this?*" And then, he snaps his fingers, a proud and more than a little defiant expression on his face as he awaits the signature *PoK!* sound and creation of one of his duplicates...

Rachel Summers has posed:
Outside the crumbling remains of what use to be Times Square, the small group of refuges begin to move in one direction, while the tall blonde man moves in another. The errie glow of the bright lights in the far distance continues in an almost predictable pattern, moving as though forming a grid from one destination, to the next. Yet, the Sentinels continue to remain in the far distance, not yet moving in this one. "There's time.." The voice is soft, whispered, as he casts a glance in Jamie's direction, though his gaze seems to move past Jamie, then back to the giant robots.

As Jamie continues to speak - no one, not a soul seems to even listen, or respond, at least - intentionally. The familiar sound that should echo out with the snapping of his fingers is not there, nor is the introduction of not one single duplicate. Not. One.

Of course, outside the mind that Jamie has suddenly found himself within, there are a small crowd of Jamie's that are now mingling about Rachel's small room.

Once again inside Rachel's mind, it may become more apparent that Jamie is like a ghost to this particular nightmare, while objects are real, the scene that is playing out can't, or wont, interact with Jamie directly.

The memory of Alex shows a small sign of hope in his wary gaze, though that fleeting look is soon dashed as a much closer sound can be heard in the distance the sound of a distinct *CRACK* of noise and a shouted. "SEARCH THEM OUT HOUND! FIND THEM! FIND THEM ALL."

The voice can only be described as pure evil, pure villainy. The tone unrelenting, though it's the dark, blood red leather clad form that appears on top of a wall that is most disturbing. The figure is a teenager - perhaps no more than fourteen, fifteen? Her head is mostly shaved save for a small layering of red fuzz, and her body is outrageously thin, nothing more than skin and bones. A layering of tattoos criss cross her face, jagged lines that stand out against the small, young and dirty skin. The outfit she wears is made of bright metal spikes that line the sides, though the most disturbing is the choker collar - more like that of a dog than decoration, where a thick metal chain hangs loosely from.

"Oh God. Not her." The voice comes from the blonde, as a look of despair, then dogged determination crosses the man's face.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Snap. Snap. Snap Snap. "Oh, snap." Jamie clicks his fingers together repeatedly trying to get a duplicate to spawn, but none do so, at least in this nightmare realm. He even briefly considers stomping his foot for a more significant kinetic force, before he remembers that he's barefoot. But, combined with the way in which no one else present has yet to acknowledge or respond to him, the fact that Alex hasn't seem to address him directly at all yet, the fact that his powers aren't working? Jamie is slowly coming to the realization that where-ever he is, whatever is going on, he's just a visitor there. Somehow, he - or perhaps the place he's visiting - isn't entirely real.

Knowing that things aren't quite real and knowing what that means, however, is something else entirely. Especially when the terrain seems to be about as real as it can get, given the bruises and cuts that have now set in on the soles of Jamie's poor, unshod feet. He gingerly makes his way up to Alex's side, taking a moment once there to catch his breath and give his feet a rest while Alex waxes on about there still being time. Just to be certain, Jamie reaches over and waves his hand infront of Alex's face, moving it up and down. Yup. Nothing there. For a brief moment, he ponders actually poking and prodding at the mutant, but stops just short, instead musing aloud. "Okay. So, let's think about this. I'm in New York, and judging from Old Man Summers here, it's probably some time in the future? Last thing I remember... I was in Rachel's room. She was having a nightmare, and..." And just then, as he's starting to put two and two together to hopefully reach the number four, that sinister voice echoes out in the distance and then the visage of the young woman comes into view. A young woman who is frightening in more ways than one - her demeanor, her attire, the despair she evokes within Alex - but mostly, for Jamie, in the way she resembles Rachel. The fact, he realizes, that she *is* Rachel, or at least was Rachel at some point in the woman's past. Or will be, in this strange and horrible future. Is this the timeline that she's come from? Is the history that she's kept so closely guarded?? If so... Jamie is certainly starting to understand, at least partially, why.

Meanwhile... Back in the 'real world', a small group of Jamie Madroxes are clustered together in Rachel's room, quarreling amongst themselves as they regard the frozen form of Jamie clutching onto Rachel's shoulder.
"I say we try to pull him off."
"Are you crazy? If we touch him, we'll get sucked right back in there."
"You don't know that, maybe it's only if we touch /her/."
"Well, I'm not going to be the one to find out."
"How about we shake the bed?"
"Did you *see* that hellscape? What if shaking the bed causes earthquakes in there? It's bad enough as it is!"
"I'm just gonna try calling her name. RACHEL! YOU'RE HAVING A BAD NIGHTMARE! AND YOU'VE GOT ME TRAPPED IN IT!"
"We're hopeless! Can't we agree on anything??!"

Rachel Summers has posed:
True to Jamie's thought process, Alex does not respond to Jamie's hand being waved in front of him, no - one can almost see his thought processes, the way that he glances over his shoulder at the mutants still attempting to make it to safety - away from the hell that is actively seeking them out. The swallowing of his atom's apple, the hardening of his jawline, and the steely look of determination that gathers about his haunted blue eyes.

On the top of the wall, the teenager's eyes scan through the crumbling remains. Her form tense, what muscles can be seen tight and coiled. Just behind the red-head in leather, a tall, over bearing form can be seen, a beard of brown and white, an appearance that can only be described as -vile-, and a whip in one hand that cracks downward, hitting the girl squarely in the back, as she cringes slightly, wincing away from the pain. "Go ON dog, FIND them."

Within an instant, Rachel's moving forward, chasing towards the location of the mutants, though standing in her path - not yet seen by the handler - is Alex, and for an instant, Rachel pauses. Her eyes wide, her expression pained, but only, only for a moment, as suddenly there is a commotion of sound and several other men like the one holding Rachel's chains leap upon Alex. "She said he's over here!" And what happens next is seen through Jamie and Rachel's eyes, as Alex fights for all he's worth, but in the end, the man is beaten, strung up and murdered, left to hang as a reminder for any that would defy the Sentinels.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Standing only a few paces away from Alex Summer - or the man that Alex would become, could become, in a future such as this - Jamie has fully accepted that he's not able to interact with or affect the people and things of this place. But as he watches the gaunt, red-haired teenager lead her sinister handlers straight to where the refugees are trying to hide, trying to escape, as he stands there and bears witness to the grotesque and senseless torture and murder of a man that he has called leader and friend, Jamie tries to stop it. He can't not try, flinging hinself at the villains, trying to pull at the chains, trying to anything, everything he can to stop them, to save Alex... but in the end, the only thing he /can/ do is to scream, to cry out the single word that brought him into Rachel's room, into her nightmares, in the first place. "Noooo.....!!"

After Alex's mutilated body is strung up, Jamie wipes the tears of shock from his eyes, first calling upwards towards the heavens. "Rachel!!" he calls out, desperately, "Wake up!! Stop this... This nightmare! You have to wake up!!" He glances around then, searching, reddened eyes seeking out the young, rail-thin teen that is, or was, Rachel. Ignoring the vile individual that has Rachel on his leash, Jamie clambors to her, trying in vain to get through to her here, even though no previous attempts to interact with the denizens of this realm have yet been successful. "Rachel, whatever this is... This isn't you, not anymore. This is just a nightmare, a dark, evil nightmare that you have to wake up from. You're not here, in this place, you're safe, at home, in your bed, in your room, in X-Factor Investigations. With me, Jamie." His voice grows more imploring as he speaks, more urgent and raw, and he even goes so far as to attempt to grab the young teen's shoulders, to look her directly in the eyes. "I don't know if this really happened... Or if you're just afraid it could have... But whichever way, right now, *right now*, it's not real. You're safe. I'm here, I'm with you, and you're safe. Just listen to my voice, Rachel. Listen to my voice and wake up, wake up and I'll be there, ready to hold you in my arms and to let you know that everything is okay, that everything is going to be all right..."

Rachel Summers has posed:
And just as suddenly as it begins, it ends - it always ends. There is nothing that Rachel can do to stop it, she lead them to him - and to everyone else that night. She lead them to them, and they were all murdered, slaughtered, all due to and because of her. It was not just an isolated incident, it happened time and time again, for not just months but years. Years and years.

At Jamie's voice echoing out into Rachel's mind, it stirs the mutant telepath awake. Jamie will find his mind once again back in his own head, as though the incident never happened, as though everything was normal once again, though that memory is one that is now a part of Jamie, just as it will always be the guilt that drives on Rachel.

With a gasp of sound, Rachel sits upwards, the dark tattoos on her face no longer covered, no longer hidden by her telepathy. Wide, horrified eyes cast towards Jamie, and then close again. What can she do? What should she do? Rachel wants to just have the entire world close up around her and swallow her whole. She should just leave, the shame of her past, (the possible future?) is so horrific, who could ever even want to WORK with her anymore?

"I'm.." Rachel begins when she finds her voice, heart still pounding hard in her chest. "I'm so sorry." What else can she say? She's uncertain what to do, what to feel, what to say, what to express. She can only sit there, head in her hands, and a fairly sickening sensation deep in her stomach.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
It's not the world that closes up around Rachel - it's Jamie's arms, for as soon as he's back in his own head, his own body, next to Rachel, he's quick to wrap her up in his embrace and hold the woman close to him, offering her whatever comfort and stability that he can. And, perhaps, searching for a little himself. The images, the visions that he saw - it's true that he won't ever be able to unsee them, but he's not the one that had to live them, that carries the guilt and shame of them. "Hey," he whispers, holding Rachel as tight as she'll let him. "It's okay, it's okay." He keeps true to his word, letting her know that everything is all right, the side of his head pressed against hers as he keeps her in the wreath of his arms.

"It's not your fault," he continues, the words meant to convey both the inadvertant nightmare-kidnapping, as well as the larger guilt that she carries for what Jamie has only witnessed a tiny glimpse of. "Whatever happened, whatever else you did... If that's the timeline you came from, I can't pretend to know anything more than what I just saw, but I do know this," he states with conviction, "And that is that you, Rachel Summers, are not the same person that was in that nightmare. Certainly not now, and I don't think you were then either. From what I saw, you were being forced, controlled... However, whatever happened, it's something you can't blame yourself for. The life you're leading now, the choices that *you* are making? You don't have to punish yourself for a future that isn't even going to exist. You've said it yourself, Rachel - where you are now, you have a whole new life ahead of you. Your birthday is when you came here, when you started everything new. Your future isn't going to be that future. It's going to be different, whatever it is." He pauses a moment, giving Rachel a squeeze before he adds in a quieter tone, "I mean, hopefully, it'll be a future with me in it, somehow... But the point I'm making, Rachel, is that no matter what you did, what you were forced do to, I still care for you, a lot. I don't blame you for it and you shouldn't either."

From some distance behind the two, nearby the doorway to the room, there is a series of small sniffles as the group of duplicates there can't refrain from expressing their emotions at the tender scene. They're all standing there in a line, wiping their eyes and rubbing at their noses, before one of them catches the attention of the others and mouths, 'Maybe we should go?', to which the remaining duplicates nod and (somewhat) quietly file out into the hallway and beyond.