Cold air whipped about the team as the silence threatened to drive them all crazy.
They’d made their way down to where the Phoenix held her latest reign of terror; armed with com devices and not much else.
It had taken two hours to get there in the Blackbird and translated to four in normal distance to time ratios.
Everyone was on edge, but not enough to say it… or maybe too much to say it.
Jean sat next to Scott in the cockpit; looking at him every once in a while and trying to figure out if she was the only one that felt it.
“It”.
Of coarse she was.
Eyeing Storm off to the right in her Zen like state; meditating no doubt, Jean could almost believe that everything was normal.
A normal mission without the black cloud which held the fear of impending doom.
Funny enough or maybe not, Jean had never felt as such before that day.
She’d never really felt scared on missions; she was well trained and impenetrable if nothing else could make her believe that coming back home was an option and not a cruel flicker of hope.
No, but the others were oblivious; not to the situation, but to her mental state and to the strong force that was the Phoenix.
Remy remained stone faced; going over strategies in his head that he thought no enemy would be ready for.
Confident and stupid.
Kurt; much like Storm, took to claming and clearing his mind for the task ahead.
And to prayer, but why wouldn’t he?
Since what they were about to face was evil incarnate, as could be read in the Professor’s uncharacteristically empty eyes.
Scott was a blank slate… La Tabula Rasa.
Not because Jean couldn’t read him, but because he reserved all thought and action for the field.
Like a soldier… like an obedient soldier boy.
Logan on the other hand was primed with emotion and capped off rage like a scream unexpressed.
Held forever in your mind, in your throat… until it suffocates you.
Like the Phoenix.
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