By Darqstar

Primitive Radio Gods; Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hands.

Shivering in the night air, the man wrapped his arms around himself. It was all he could do, because he had no clothes.

He was confused and disorientated. He had no clue how he had gotten here. One minute he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, the next he was floating in the water, struggling to breathe, feeling like his body was on fire.

He knew where he was; he just had no clue how he got here. When he made it to the shore, he saw police cars, some sort of commotion. Even in his confused state, he knew to stay far away. Police had a tendency to get mighty suspicious of naked men appearing in the midst of trouble.

He wandered the streets, keeping to the shadows so no one would see him, until he managed to find a building where someone had laundry on a clothesline. He stole a pair of sweatpants and ran off when he heard a dog barking. He found a quiet spot between two buildings and put the pants on. They were a little short in the legs, a little too wide in the waist, but it was better than being naked. He drew the drawstring tighter around the waist and tied it.

I... I have to do something. There has to be someone who can explain what's going on to me, he thought.

He finally found a pay phone. Picking up the receiver, he dialed an 800 number. Please, he thought. Let her be home and let her be able to tell me what the hell is going on. One ring, two rings three rings.

Finally, someone answered the telephone. "Xavier's institute for Higher Learning."

He knew the voice; it was Beast's. "H-hi Hank, c-can I s-speak to Sikudhani?" he asked.

There was dead silence. "Hello?" he said, wondering if he had been disconnected.

"I-I'm still here," Hank said. "Uhm... Siku doesn't live here anymore." Hank's voice sounded very cautious, which rather surprised him.

"C-can I have her new number?" he asked. He would figure out what was going on later, why she would have moved without telling him later. Right now he just wanted to hear her voice.

"Who is this?" Hank asked.

That surprised him. He had called Siku enough, Hank should know who he was. "It's me, Sean Mason."

Silence again. Sean would have thought Hank had hung up, but he could still hear the doctor breathing. "Hank, what the heck is going on?" he asked.

"I don't know who you are, sir, but I do not find this funny at all!" Hank shouted.

Sean scratched his head. What in the world was Hank talking about? What had he done to inspire such anger in the man? Gulping he started speaking, his voice getting angrier as he spoke. "Hank, I'm having a hell of a bad night, can you cut the crap? If you're mad at me, could you p-please tell me why? I'm standing in Boston, half naked, I just swam out of the goddamned harbor, and for the life of me, I have no clue how I got here or what happened! I'm supposed to be in California with the band, but I'm not, I'm here. I just want to talk to one sane person who might be able to give me some clue about what happened to me!"

Kimber looked up from the papers she was studying, her brow furrowed. Who is on the phone who's got Hank so upset? she wondered. She put the papers aside and walked over to him. "Hank, what's going on?" she whispered.

He cupped his hand over the receiver and glared at her. "I am talking to a very twisted person who is playing some sort of joke on me, which I do not find in the least bit amusing."

Kimber tipped her head to one side. She was not used to seeing Hank so agitated, especially over what was most likely a prank telephone call. "Hank, yelling isn't going to help. What does this person want? What are they doing that has you so irked?"

Hank looked at her. "Dear, they are claiming to be your brother and they wish to speak to Siku."

Kimber's eyes widened and before Hank could react, she grabbed the telephone from him. "Who the hell is this?" she screeched.

Despite the fact that she was screaming at him, Sean was very glad when he heard Kimber's voice on the phone. "Kim? It's me, it's Sean, please stop screaming, okay? I'm confused enough, I don't need this." He shivered again. His body was freezing and he was so hungry, he wondered if he should just hang up and try to get some food and call back later. Why are they so tense? he wondered. "Kim, I just woke up in the Boston Harbor. I swam to shore totally naked. I have no clue how I got here. I have no clue what happened to me."

"You can't be Sean!" Kimber shouted.

"What, for the love of God are you talking about, Kimber? Of course it's me!" Sean exploded, fighting the pain in his stomach. "Why can't it be me?"

"Cause you're fucking dead!"

Her words hit him like bricks. Dead? I'm dead? No, I can't be dead. If I was dead, I wouldn't be standing at this phone booth, I wouldn't be freezing, I wouldn't be so damned hungry I can hardly stand. "No, I'm not dead. I'm on the phone. What's going on? Why are you messing with my head?"

"I don't find this funny. I don't know who you are, but I will say you do a pretty good imitation of my brother's voice. Why don't you put your talents to some good instead of just using it to tear people apart?" Kimber's voice was cold. "I'm hanging up now."

"No!" Sean screamed. "Don't hang up!" Desperately, he searched for something he could say, something he could do to prove to his sister he was indeed her brother. Taking a deep breath, he started singing. "Kimmy Lee, Kimmy Lee, please shut up and listen to me..."

Kimber was about to hang up, when she heard the singing.

Kimmy Lee, Kimmy Lee,
Please shut up and listen to me.

Her hand froze for a moment. His voice sounded rough and scared, not the smooth, almost sensual voice she knew Sean had, but it was still his voice. And the words! When they were kids, they used to come up with little songs to sing to each other, a joke between the both of them, to see if they could have entire conversations by singing, rather than speaking. She could feel the color beginning to drain from her face.

"Kimber, what's going on?" Hank asked.

Kimber ignored him and brought the receiver up to her ear again. Could she still play the game? Could the person on the other end play it as well? "Sean, is it really you? How can it be, this can't be true!"

Tears were coming to Sean's eyes when he heard his sister sing. He had no clue why she went ballistic on him, but at least she was starting to believe. "It's me, I swear, I wouldn't lie. Why the hell did you say I died?" Okay, he was never going to win any awards for his lyrics, but he hoped it was getting his point across.

"Oh my God..." Kimber stopped singing. "No one knew about the game, it was our private joke. Well, no one but Dad."

"David Mason." Sean said softly. "Died on Christmas Eve. I was a shit and never even went to his funeral." He spilled out facts about his life, his life when he grew up with Kimber, wanting to keep letting her know it was really him. "We grew up in Waltham, you played Sandra Dee in your High school's production of Grease."

"Yeah," Kimber said. He could hear the tears in her voice. "Wh-what was the name of your make-believe little sister?"

"Sally-Bear!" he exclaimed. "This blue stuffed bear you won for me at a carnival. I had the chicken pox and couldn't go. You still have the bear in a box under your bed."

Tears streamed down Kimber's face and she fell to her knees, still clutching the telephone. "Oh my God, Oh my God, Sean..."

Hank stared at her, wondering if he should take the telephone for her. He reached out for it, but she slapped his hand away, hard. "No, Hank, it's him!"

"It can't be!" Hank protested.

"Don't hang up, Sean. Don't hang up!" she shouted into the phone. "Hold on a second, please!"

She cupped her hand over the receiver and glared at her husband. "You're on a team with the Amazing Wonder Woman, Jean 'come-back-from-the-dead' Grey-Summers and you're telling me that this isn't Sean?"

"Jean was never dead technically. A cosmic entity took her place," Hank reminded her. "This is completely different. Sean was killed by a gun. We saw the body. We knew it was him. Kimber, his body was cremated and you and Siku scattered the ashes over Boston Harbor. This cannot be Sean!"

"Hank, he 's in Boston now. He said he was in the harbor and he swam to shore." She looked at him, her eyes wide. "He has no clue what's been happening to him. The fact that he called here looking for Siku indicates he's got no clue that it's been six years since he died. I don't know how he got here, I don't have the slightest clue what happened, but I'm going to find out!"

"We're going to find out," Hank corrected.

"Whatever," Kimber turned her attention back to the telephone. "Sean, are you okay?"

"No," Sean said his voice soft and weak. This call was taking too much out of him. "I'm all alone, Kimmy. I've got no wallet, no nothing. All I'm wearing is a pair of pants I stole from someone's clothesline. I'm freezing, and I feel like I haven't eaten in years. I have no clue what to do. Without my wallet, I can't even take any cash out of the ATM and get something to eat!"

"Okay, don't worry, Sean, I'm here," Kimber's voice was soft and soothing. "It will be all right. Tell me, where are you?"

He gave his location. Kimber thought for a moment. "You're not too far from the Radisson hotel. Can you make it there?"

"I-I think so."

"All right, go there," Kimber said.

"They aren't going to let me in," Sean protested. "Not without a shirt and some shoes."

 "Oh, yes they are," Kimber disagreed. "I'll call them and think of something. I want you to go there. Right after we hang up, I'll call them. I'll reserve a room for you. Go up to the room and order something from room service. Try to keep it something light, all right? Soup or something like that. Take a bath and try to warm up. Get some sleep if you need it. I'll be there as soon as possible, okay?"

"O-okay. Thanks, Kimmy. I owe you for this."

"It's all right, Sean. Everything will be all right."

Hank looked at her as she hung up the telephone. "Kimber, this can't be Sean."

She looked at him. "Hank, I know his voice. I know my brother and I'm almost positive that's him."

"How could he come back from the dead?" Hank asked, trying to rationalize with her.

"I have no clue," Kimber admitted. "My mind is whirling, trying to come up with possible explanations for this and some of them are not very good. However, I am going to call the Radisson Hotel and get a room for him, all right?" Her voice began rising dangerously. "I will describe my brother and come up with some story as to why he's walking around without a shirt, shoes, and a wallet. Once I get him safely into a room, you and I can go out and see for ourselves if it is him and from there try to figure out what the heck is going on."

Hank knew better than to argue. He also knew she was right; It would be better to find out what was going on and see for themselves who this was than to just stay here and take guesses. "All right, dear," he said. "I'll go see about getting the Blackbird."

The anger drained from Kimber's expression and her voice. "Thank you, love," she said, softly. Picking up the telephone again, she called the Radisson Hotel in Boston.

Sighing, Siku slammed shut the book she was studying and rubbed her eyes. Studying, at least for tonight, was out of the question. She could not concentrate.

She rose from the desk and walked across the room to the windows which looked out over the city. For the last two years, since she graduated from college, she had been living in the converted factory Kimber had used as her home before she married Hank. I'm lucky, she thought. Apartments in New York City cost a minor fortune and Kimber lets me rent this place from her for next to nothing. She loved the spaciousness of the place, the high ceilings, the wall of windows with the long bench running along it. Although Siku would always consider the mansion her "first home," she felt as if this place was home now as well. It was near the clinic, where she worked, and near to Empire State University, where she was still attending school, and working on her Ph.D.

I'm doing all right for myself, Siku thought, reaching down to stroke Cleo, who was curled up taking a snooze. Blizzard, her beloved dog and in many ways, best friend, had died of old age last year, but Cleo still lived. I'm living on my own; I'm working and going to school. I have a lot of things to be happy about. So why do I feel so, at the risk of being cliche, blue tonight?

She looked over to the table by the stairwell. Lying on top of the wooden table were two pieces of mail. She walked over and looked at them. One was her telephone bill; the other was a thick, cream-colored envelope. Well, there's one reason, maybe, she thought as she picked up the cream envelope.

She did not know why the contents shocked her. She told herself a long time ago, that this was bound to happen, eventually, but still, when she had first opened it and read what was inside, she felt like someone had sucked the air out of her lungs.

She opened the envelope and took out the heavy card inside:

She put the card down before reading the fussy details. Bryan is getting married, she thought. He's fallen in love and he's getting married.

 She did not know why the news shocked her so much. She knew Bryan had been seeing Jessica for almost three years, was it really surprising they had decided to get married? Was she, Siku, still holding a torch for him?

She did not think so. Financial reasons had forced Bryan to drop out of Empire State University at the end of Siku's sophomore year at Vassar, and enroll in a college in his home state of Texas. When it first happened, both Siku and Bryan had been unhappy. But they were practical, and realized that what had to be, had to be. They had stayed in touch, at first heavily, through the telephone and the Internet. Siku had even flown down on a couple of school breaks to spend time with him. But it was not the same, and it never would be. Eventually, the relationship that looked as if it might lead to something more permanent drifted into a safe, distant friendship.

Did I expect Bryan to just stop living when he and I stopped going together? she thought. Did I think that I spoiled him for another woman or something? Am I that self-centered?

No, she did not think she was. Honestly, deep down inside she was happy for Bryan. His infrequent letters glowed with love for Jessica. From what little she could tell, they seemed perfect for each other and Siku wished them nothing but the best.

What's bothering you is that Bryan has moved on and you're still in the same place, a small voice inside her head told her. But that was ridiculous! She had moved on, she certainly was not stagnant. She had her own place, paid her own bills, worked, and continued her education. What more could anyone expect from her? She was doing very well for a twenty-four year old woman.

Career wise, but what about socially? the little voice nagged. You haven't been on a date in so long; you've probably forgotten what it's like. Your idea of a good Friday night is convincing Cierra to come down and spend the night with you, so the both of you can go shopping Saturday morning. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it shouldn't be the most excitement in your life.

She tried to argue with herself. I'm too busy to get involved with anyone. Once I have my Ph.D...

You'll decide to go for your Masters, came the interruption.

Education is important! she told herself. Her father had stressed that to her.

No one is saying it isn't, but that doesn't mean you should totally forget about you! All work and no play makes Sikudhani a dull girl.

"Oh shut up!" she told herself, unaware that she had even spoken aloud, until she realized Cleo was staring at her with a distasteful expression. She grinned, realizing how foolish she must look to the animal. "I'm sorry, Cleo, I wasn't talking to you."

Putting down the invitation, she walked back over to the cat and sat down, stroking her. "I'm an idiot. It's never going to help me to sit around and feel sorry for myself."

Cleo responded with an enormous yawn, and started purring. Siku leaned her back against the windows, relaxing.

A shiver suddenly went through her. She frowned. The place was warm enough, she was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, but she suddenly began to feel cold. Especially her chest area and her feet.

She rose from the bench and went over to the thermostat. The temperature of the room was 69.5 degrees. Certainly warm enough, so why did she feel cold? Maybe I'm coming down with something? she wondered. There was some sort of bug floating around the school; she had seen a couple of her classmates sniffling tonight. Maybe she had a touch of that?

Maybe a shower will help? she thought, well, it certainly can't hurt. She turned and started towards the bathroom and stopped. Something much worse than the cold took her over and she turned directions and almost ran into the kitchen.

First she leaned over the sink, drinking water straight out of the kitchen faucet. After almost two minutes of that, she turned off the faucet and walked over to the refrigerator. It was as if something had taken over her body, ordering her to do this. Opening the refrigerator, she grabbed the gallon of milk, opened the top, and started drinking it straight from the carton. Still holding it in one hand, she began rummaging around for something else. I am so hungry, I feel like I could pass out! She grabbed a plastic container that held some leftover cold spaghetti and tossed it on the counter. Then she took out a loaf of bread and tossed it next to spaghetti. I've got to eat something! Still guzzling milk from the carton, she shut the refrigerator door and went over to the food. She pulled down a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet and set to work.

It was easier to get into the Radisson that Sean expected and he knew he would owe his sister big time for this one. He had no clue what she had done, what story she had told, but it obviously was a good one.

He had not even made it one block from the phone booth when a cab came along and picked him up. "I was told to look for you," was the driver's response. That was not too surprising. How many other people were going to be walking around wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants and no shoes, in Boston, in October?

The cab took him to the Radisson. A young man wearing a white tuxedo shirt was waiting outside. When they pulled up, he opened the door and looked at him. "Are you Sean Mason?"

"Y-yes," Sean said.

"Good. We've been expecting you. Your sister called and your room is ready." He helped him out of the cab and paid the driver.

He was ushered into the hotel and brought up to a room, quickly, and efficiently. The young man who helped him assured him that his sister would be along soon. Sean tried not to say anything, for fear he would blow whatever story Kimber had given them.

"Do you need to get to a hospital?" the young man asked, when they were in the room. "Are you in any pain?"

"N-no," Sean said. "I-I'm hungry though. Is room service still available?"

The young man nodded. "The kitchen is expecting for you to call. Your sister told me to tell you she will be along as soon as she can. In the meanwhile, is there anything we can do for you?"

Sean shook his head. "I-I think I'm fine." He keeps telling me Kimber is coming. He's also looking at me like I'm nuts. Well, maybe I am.

"Very good," the young man nodded. "My name is Marcus. I'll be in the lobby if you need anything... if you think you can be alone?"

Sean knew, despite the professional attitude, Marcus was worried about him. "I-I'm fine," he said. "I can be alone." I'm gonna have to find out what Kimber told them!

Marcus left. The moment the door clicked behind him, Sean hurried into the bathroom and drank several glasses of water. When he finished with that, he went back into the main room and almost pounced on the telephone, calling the number for room service. "This is Sean Mason? I'm in room 206 and I'd like room service. Could you send me up..." he thought for a moment. Kimber wanted him to order soup, but he suddenly did not feel like soup. "Uhm, I'd like a big glass of milk. A pitcher of the stuff if you can do it. And can I have a..." he wracked his brains, trying to think of what he wanted to eat, what would be the right thing to eat at this moment. "A spaghetti and peanut butter sandwich!" he blurted out.

"A what?" the person on the other end asked.

"A spaghetti and peanut butter sandwich," he repeated, part of him in shock that he would order such a thing, but it was exactly what he wanted. "Cold spaghetti, with peanut butter."

"We-we don't have cold spaghetti," the person protested.

"Do the best you can, okay? Please?" He knew, beyond anything else, that it was about the only thing he wanted to eat at this moment. The only thing he did not know was, why?

 Kimber drummed her fingers along the armrest of her chair and sighed. If only we could just transport to Boston, she thought. It did not matter to her that the Blackbird was going to make it faster than just about anything but teleporting, what mattered was that she wanted to be there now. Not in half an hour, not in twenty minutes, but now.

And we would be there by now, if it wasn't for Scott and the rest of the X-Men sticking their noses into my business, she thought. No, correction. This involves Hank too, right now. So sticking their nose into our business.

After making all the arrangements for Sean to be taken care of, all Kimber wanted to do was get into the Blackbird and fly as fast as they could to Boston. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that the X-Men, probably through Hank, found out what was going on. They were waylaid and told in no uncertain terms that they were not allowed to go alone.

Kimber tried to argue, not very effectively, she would admit later. Yelling in a high-pitched, whinny voice, "He's my brother, I have to go check it out. I just wanna go with Hank; I don't wanna go with a bunch of other X-Men. Why? Cause I just don't want to!" was not an effective argument, but she was not thinking too clearly. Even worse, the X-Men had bigger bait than she did. At least one of them would have to watch David Norman McCoy, their son, while they were gone. Although she knew that they would never use their son, it was still something she did not care to push. She wanted to make sure when they left that they would keep an ear and eye on the sleeping boy.

Hank was not any help either. He agreed with Scott. He used such phrases as; "You're too emotionally involved right now to think objectively. We could use another level head to tag along, in case there is some sort of problem." Kimber started to feel like a slightly stupid child having a temper tantrum. She was waiting for Hank or one of the X-Men, probably Scott, to order her to the corner for a "time out." If that had happened, she most likely would have tried to single-handedly beat everyone up and hijack the Blackbird by herself.

Fortunately, it did not come to that. Hank took over talking for Kimber. He did agree that they should bring some of the other members of the team beside himself. He did compromise and say they should only have to bring one other member. Scott argued that if the whole team did not go, they should at least bring half of it. More precious seconds ticked away into minutes as they argued and Kimber clenched her fists, biting her tongue. Finally, another compromise was reached. Only two other members could go, but Scott could pick them.

He picked Jean first, an obvious choice. Jean was a telepath who had known Sean when he was alive. She would know if it was really him, or if this was some sort of hoax, some sort of imposter. Of course, even if she did read that it was Sean, that did not mean that it really was Sean. It could be some sort of clever trick. Or maybe a Sinister clone, Kimber thought. Like Sinister would go to the trouble to clone my brother, of all people. Can you spell paranoid? Sure, it's spelled X-M-E-N. Luckily though, Kimber and Jean were good friends and it was true, Jean had met Sean and even liked him. Kimber was willing to go along with Jean.

Scott's second choice was a newer member to the group, Bucky Epurer, who went by the code name Suerte ¹. She was a pleasant young woman, only a couple years older than Sikudhani, with long, wavy, dark black hair and beautiful blue eyes. Her mutant gift was an ability to deflect and avoid any sort of danger. The woman could walk slowly across a room full of gunfire and come out without a scratch. Hank and the other X-Men had tested her several times and come to the conclusion that her ability was in part, a low-level force field she could erect upon herself and just way too much luck to be coincidental. She was also well-versed in several forms of martial arts.

When the choices were said and done, Kimber agreed, although she wondered why Bucky was picked to come along. It was not a bad choice, Kimber liked Bucky well enough, and Bucky was a sweet, understanding sort of person, who would not jump to any conclusions until all the facts were checked out. She was a better choice than, oh say, Bishop, if he had still been on the team. Bishop would have wanted to hold Sean at gunpoint, concluding he could not really be Sean, and therefore, must be an enemy. Bucky was a good choice; at least as far as Kimber was concerned what she did not know was why Scott selected her. Kimber would have thought, Scott was the type to pick someone on the basis of making sure they were a well-rounded group, ready to fight if this all turned out to be some horrible trap. He wouldn't pick someone, just on the basis that I happen to like her, she thought.

"Give my husband some credit," a mental voice suggested. "He knows this situation has you tied in emotional knots, he doesn't want to send someone to make it worse for you."

She looked over at Jean, who was sitting next to her. Jean smiled. Kimber tried to scowl, but failed and instead returned a weak smile. "It's rude to read minds," she said.

"I wasn't deliberately trying to read your mind." Jean defended herself. "It's just that your thoughts are coming so hard and fast, it's next to impossible to block them out. It will be okay, Kimber. We'll find out what's going on." She reached out and took Kimber's hand, squeezing it gently.

"Jean, I'm so scared," Kimber admitted. She squeezed back before letting go of Jean's hand. "I know it's Sean. Things he said, things he did. I know, I know, if someone was going to try to play me, play us for a fool, they'd make sure their Sean knew all the right things... but it's not just what he said... or even how he said it. It's like I know it's him in my heart. If that makes any sense."

"I know," Jean said. "I think we all understand exactly how you feel. Scott especially. And we will resolve this. We'll find out what is going on. You'll see."

"I know." Kimber sighed. "It doesn't make it any easier, though." She looked over at Hank, who was in the pilot's seat. "Are we almost there?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Almost," Hank assured her.

Kimber nodded and looked over at Bucky. "You must think I'm nuts," she murmured.

Bucky smiled a soft, gentle, smile and shook her head. "I might not have been on the X-Men for long, but I've learned all my life that weird stuff happens."

Kimber grinned in return. "Good answer, Bucky. You're not making a judgement either way and it sounds like you could be on either side. You'll go far with this group."

Bucky shrugged. Under the circumstances, she figured it was the best way to respond.

 Finishing off the last of the milk, Siku wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She knew it was rude, but she did not care. All that mattered at this moment was that the gnawing hunger in her stomach had stopped. I don't know what got into me tonight, she thought. She still felt cold though. Whatever is happening to me is weird. There aren't too many viruses or colds that make someone feel like they haven't eaten in years! She started towards the bathroom again, to take a shower, walking slowly.

Half way there, her stomach started to churn, pushing the contents upward, into her throat. She barely made it into the bathroom, falling to her knees in front of the toilet. Pulling back her hair, she started vomiting. What's happening to me? she thought. Why do I feel so weird? Why am I getting sick? And why do I feel so darned confused?

Involved in the act of throwing up himself, Sean never heard the first, soft knock at his door. The second knock was a bit louder; he heard that one.

Lord, if it's Kimber, she's gonna kill me, he thought as he pulled himself up to his feet, using the sink for support. She warned me, but I didn't listen.

A third knock came, this one even louder. "I'm coming!" he tried to yell, but it came out more of a whimper. He stumbled to the door and opened it.

Kimber stood there, with Hank, Jean, and a woman he had never met before. He expected Kimber to throw her arms around him, or rush to make sure he was all right, but she did nothing. Just stood there, staring at him.

"See something green?" he finally asked her.

"Oh my god," she said, tears suddenly pouring out of her eyes. "Sean!"

"Lord, Kimmy, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I have," she said. "I am."

Even though she had spoken to him on the phone, even though she had the entire trip to mentally prepare herself, when Sean opened the door, Kimber knew there was no way to prepare for this. Nothing in life ever teaches you how to prepare for your brother coming back from the dead, because it was not supposed to happen.

Yet it was happening. It was Sean who stood there, looking pale with a faintly greenish tinge. Sean, her brother, looking exactly the same as he did when he left for California with his band. Six years had passed for her. She was married now; her and Hank had a three-year-old son. Her stepdaughter had graduated from college and was attending graduate school. The world had changed, rearranged itself to mark the passing years, but not for Sean. For Sean it seemed like he had been in some sort of capsule for the last six years, nothing changing. His hair was even the exact same length.  

"Kimmy," he finally said, "I don't feel so well."

Those words sprang her into action. She was a doctor and before she even became a doctor, when she still had dreams of being a famous singer, Sean was her baby brother, and it was her job to take care of him.

She walked in the room, taking him by the arm. "C'mon, little brother, let's make sure you're all right."

She led him over to the bed, so he could sit down. The rest of the group followed. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"I just got really sick," he confessed. "I ate, Kimmy, but it came right back up."

"I'm not surprised," Hank said. He was standing by the desk, where the remains of Sean's meal service dinner lay on a tray. "Spaghetti and a peanut butter sandwich?"

Sean defended himself. "I-I was going to order soup, I really was. But when I called room service, I just had to have a peanut butter and spaghetti sandwich. It was the only thing I wanted!"

"A peanut butter and spaghetti sandwich?" Kimber repeated, her voice rising sharply. "Who in their right mind eats peanut butter and spaghetti sandwiches?"

"Sikudhani," Hank said.

She looked at him. "Siku?"

Hank nodded. "For some reason, she likes peanut butter and spaghetti sandwiches. Cold spaghetti and peanut butter."

"But why would Sean want that?" Kimber asked.

"I have no idea, my dear," Hanks said. "But I must admit, I find it very curious, do you not as well?"

Kimber's brows furrowed for a moment. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I do." She knew this was something she would have to check into later, but right now she was more concerned about Sean's physical condition. "We'll discuss it another time." She opened her backpack and pulled out her stethoscope. "Hank, would you please call down to the kitchen and ask them to send up some soup and bread?"

Hank nodded and picked up the telephone.

Two hours later, this time with some soup and bread on his stomach, Sean was heading to the mansion with Kimber and the others in the group.

He sat in one of the seats of the Blackbird, wrapped in a blanket, that they had taken from the hotel. Kimber had called the desk to make sure they knew to bill it to her credit card.

"What did you tell them?" Sean asked, looking over at Kimber.

"Tell who?" Kimber asked, looking at him.

"Th-the hotel. How did you explain me?"

Kimber put her hand on his shoulder. "I told them you suffered from memory problems... a form of amnesia and you had disappeared awhile ago, and called me out of the blue."

Sean stared at her. "It's not really that much of a lie, is it?"

Kimber smiled. "I guess not. Except that you hadn't disappeared. I knew exactly where you were."

"Where was I?" he asked, swallowing.

Kimber took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. She knew this was going to be a shock for him, but he had to know. "Sean, you were shot and you died. Your soul was in heaven, your body was cremated and your ashes scattered over the Boston Harbor."

Sean trembled. He always knew when his sister was lying; he knew her body language, the subtle nuances that gave her away. He searched her for any signs of this now, but found none. She was telling the truth, or at least what she perceived to be the truth. "I-I know you talked about me being dead on the phone, but Kimber, how can that be? I'm here. If I were dead, how could I be here now?"

"I don't know," Kimber admitted. "We're taking you back to the mansion to try to find out. They have equipment there that is better than anything else around, even the stuff at the clinic."

Sean wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. Physically, with a shower and some more appropriate food on his stomach, he was feeling better, but his mind was still feeling confused. "Y-you look different," he stammered. "Y-your hair... uhm..."

"I look older," Kimber said. "Cause I am."

"H-how long was I-" He paused, not wanting to say the D word. "Uh..."

"Gone?" Kimber supplied for him.

"Yeah, gone."

Again, she drew in a deep breath. "Six years."

A low whistle pushed from his lips. "Wow. Six years." He shook his head. "That... that seems like a very long time."

They got back to the mansion as it was getting close to dawn. Sean was immediately brought to the Medlab for testing. As Kimber and Hank ran the tests, Scott talked to Jean and Bucky.

"How does he seem?" Scott asked.

"Confused," Jean said. "Understandable. He was sick to his stomach when we got there."

"Was there a reason for that?"

Jean nodded. They were in the recreation room of the mansion. At this hour of the morning, it was usually empty and much more comfortable than the war room. "Apparently, he tried to eat a peanut butter and spaghetti sandwich, which didn't agree with him."

Scott made a face. "Yuck, who eats that, besides-" His sentence cut off abruptly, when he remembered exactly who in the mansion was known for eating peanut butter and spaghetti sandwiches.

"Yes, I found that interesting as well," Jean said, smiling to her husband. They were sitting on the sofa together. Bucky was sitting on the chair near them.

"What did you think, Bucky?" Scott asked.

Bucky shrugged. "I can't say if it's him or not. I never knew him when he was alive."

"Yes, I understand that," Scott said. "But I'm asking your opinion of him."

Bucky frowned, thinking for a moment before she spoke. "He seems like a nice enough guy. A bit confused though. I don't think he's got a clue of what's happened to him."

Scott nodded then turned back to Jean. "Did you do a psi-scan on him?"

Jean nodded. "Yes. It was interesting."

"How so?"

Jean bit her lower lip. "It's as if those six years when he was dead never happened."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's hard to explain, but if there had been a mistake, if Sean hadn't died, but had just been in a coma, there would be some... awareness in his mind, at least deep in his subconscious, that time had passed." Jean said. "There was nothing, anywhere, that would indicate that. As far as Sean is concerned, even in the deepest recesses of his mind, those six years that he's been gone, didn't exist. They never happened. He still thinks it is six years ago."

"Could that be possible, if he were a clone of sorts?" Bucky asked.

"I really don't know a lot about that subject," Jean admitted. "But it doesn't seem likely. Someone would have had to get him started in the world, but he doesn't remember that. Although, maybe there is a way to erase that section of his mind, but usually even then, there are traces of the memories. Even if I can't read them, I'd know there were there. I'd know he'd been tampered with."

"Oh," Bucky said. She leaned back in the chair, drawing her legs up to her side. "So, what do we do now?"

"We wait to see what Hank and Kimber find out," Scott said. "There is nothing much else we can do."

 About the time Sean was undergoing tests, Siku gave up completely on sleeping and got out of bed.

She got dressed slowly and walked into the living room, going to sit by the windows. Something is very wrong, she told herself. She felt better, physically, than she had last night, but emotionally, she was a complete mess. She was confused, disorientated, as if something dramatic had happened to her. Why do I highly doubt the wedding invitation would have this sort of influence me, she thought, her lips twisting into a wry grin? It might be depressing to think that Bryan is getting married, but I don't think it should throw my whole world apart.

She searched her memory, trying to think of a time she felt even remotely close to this, upset and confused without being able to connect it to something. Oh, please don't tell me I have some sort of hereditary mental illness, she thought. It can't be that. Keep thinking.

The closest she could come was the night of her high school graduation, when she was attending a party at Cierra's house and suddenly... suddenly...

I suddenly insisted Cameron take me home because I knew something horrible had happened to someone I loved!

The someone had turned out to be Sean Mason, who had died that night. After the funeral was over, there had been some speculation about what she had experienced that night. Her father and some of the other X-Men wondered if she was manifesting some sort of psychic ability. She always had a very mild empathy with animals, but it had never seemed to affect her with human beings, until then. Several tests were run on her, but they all came up inconclusive. She had never again experienced anything similar. Later, Cierra suggested that her and Sean had formed some sort of lovers bond, a theory which Siku dismissed as nothing but Cierra's usual attempts to be dramatic and romantic. It was a beautiful idea, the stuff dreams and romance books were made of, but it was not reality. As fun as it might have been to pretend her and Sean had superceded the laws of nature, Sean was dead and Siku was alive. She had to go on, she had to be practical.

Then what is happening to me now? she thought. Why do I have the feeling I'm experiencing something that isn't happening to me? Even the night Sean died, she never felt him being shot, never felt his pain, she only knew something terrible had happened. She had not even known till the telephone rang and it was Kimber that it was Sean. But tonight... tonight she felt as if...

She was coming alive again.

No, it was not as if she had been depressed or sick and now was feeling better. This did not feel good most of the time. She felt as if... as if...

My entire world has been shaken up!

As if everything around her had changed, but she had not. As if she had been...

Dead.

No, if someone was dead and came back, they would know it, wouldn't they?

Says who? Who's really been dead and come back that you know?

No one. People did not come back from the dead, that was about the only rule in life you could count on. Dead was forever. Maybe someone could be cloned, maybe they could have been taken over by something else which died, but when you died, it was forever. Even if Sean was cloned, she would know it was not Sean. She would know it in her heart. He might be Sean, but he would not be her Sean. He might even have Sean's memories, Sean's scent, she might even fall in love with him, as she had with Sean, but it would not be exactly the same.

God, tell me I'm dreaming, tell me I'm joking. Tell me what is going on, please? She folded her hands, praying earnestly. When logic and knowledge failed, there was only one thing to count on and that was faith. She had faith in God. She just wished he would be a little clearer when he left a message.

You have to go home.

She almost leaped off the cushion. Did that voice come from her head? Or did her ears hear it? She could not tell. She did know that it was not her voice. It was...

Sean.

She ran into her room and got dressed not really caring what she put on, as long as it covered her body. She slipped on a pair of sandals, not caring that it was October. Her car had heat and the sandals were quicker. Slow down! part of her was saying. You're being foolish. Take a bit; don't go rushing up to the mansion with some half-baked theory in your head!

She decided not to listen. Grabbing a jacket and her keys, she ran down the stairs and out the door.

 Although Kimber was not officially a member of the X-Men, under this circumstance, she was allowed into the war room. She noted with a bit of amusement that it seemed as if most of the team was more interested in hearing Hank's opinions of all of this than hers. It did not bother her as much as it could have. She knew the truth. She also understand why the X-Men were reluctant to believe it. If it had been someone else, someone she was not close to, Kimber knew she would have been skeptical as well.

She looked around the conference table, thinking about how the group had changed over the six years Sean had been gone. A fair number of the original members were still there. Scott and Jean, of course. Bobby was still a member, but that was most likely because of Kelsey. They had an apartment in the mansion and a young daughter. It was important to them to put down some roots. Besides, the both of them had build up a pretty good accounting business, when Kelsey had decided that being a housewife and a mother was not enough to keep her busy. She had gone to school, figuring this was a good choice. She could still be home with Charlene most of the time, but still work. Even when Bobby was away on a mission with the team, Kelsey could keep the business going.

Gambit and Rogue were still there. They had both left briefly for awhile to pursue a life of their own, but returned after less than a year. Rogue might desperately dream of having a normal life, but when it came down to the truth, she needed the structure of the team. And a life of work, paying the bills, and mowing the lawn of the little suburban ranch house was not the sort of existence that Gambit could thrive on. They were not married yet, but they had worked their way around their problems and if they had not become completely intimate, they were close enough for their own sakes, and were planning on getting married next spring.

Warren and Betsy were still members of the team, although they spent more of their time on their own than with the team. They lived in Warren's co-op in the city and spent most of their time there. If they were needed, they came along, no questions asked. They were not there this morning, because this was not considered a real emergency. Chances were that they would both be stopping in later, and could be filled in.

Bishop was gone, having formed his own group over a year ago. Joseph and the professor were teaching up at the Massachusetts academy. There were a lot more mutants in the world these days, the school had gotten quite large and had a lot of students that were not members of the Gen-X team. It was almost as if the school was now two schools. Everyone who attended were mutants and learning to control your powers was a big part of the curriculum, but there was also a large number of students who merely wanted the chance to live as close to a normal life as they could. Sikudhani had spoken of going up there when she finished her graduate work and helping out. Sean and Emma were no longer teaching at the school, but had formed their own group, which mostly consisted of former members of Gen-X.

Jubilee was back with the X-Men, but she had done a lot of changing and growing up these last few years. She still was high-spirited and not above the occasional trick, but she was an adult now, and was a lot more willing to listen, rather than just jump to conclusions. As we approach thirty, we don't lose ourselves, we just become a little calmer about it, Kimber thought, looking at her.

Logan was still on the team, but he spent a lot of time going from the X-Mansion to the Massachusetts academy to help students learn to hone their fighting skills. Even if they did not wish to pursue the life of a hero, the world still was not overly accepting of mutants, and it never hurt to learn self-defense. Logan not only taught martial arts, but some down-and-dirty street fighting. "Cause when it's you versus them, and they've got one goal, to end your life, screw the rules. The only thing that matters is coming out alive."

She looked over at Logan, who was sitting at the table with an expression that clearly said, why am I here? He had run into Sean on their way to the Medlab, stared at him a moment, sniffing cautiously, then nodded and said, "Guess those reports of your death were exaggerated."

Sean grinned. "Or else they were correct and I just got better."

Logan grinned in return and walked away. Kimber had no idea what he had concluded from his own personal test of Sean Mason, but from the expression on his face, she knew he obviously did not think Sean was any sort of threat.

Cable was a fairly regular member of the team, although lately, he had been on a mission of his own so he was not there today. Exactly what that mission was, Kimber was not sure of, but she knew that eventually, he would be back. Maybe this time he would wise up and bring Domino with him. Kimber, as well as a few others, were tired of this on-again-off-again relationship. They should just both realize the truth. They belong together.

"All right," Hank said, clearing his throat. "Well, Kimber and I have had a chance to examine Sean. We ran every test we could on him and we both concluded he is in excellent health. The illness he was feeling when we first went to his room were merely the effects of eating the wrong sort of food on a completely empty stomach."

"Yes, but did the tests give us any information on him?" Scott asked.

"Information such as why he came back from the dead?" Hank asked.

"Well, yes," Scott said, aware of how stupid that sounded, but how else did he put it?

"Nothing direct," Hank said. "But there was nothing to indicate that this is not Sean, but a clone."

"How would it know if he was a clone?" Jubilee asked. "I mean, I thought a clone was an exact copy of the person?"

"That's true," Kimber said, nodding. "However, it is a copy, not the original. There is usually some minor breakdown. Uhm... how do I put this?" She paused, thinking for a moment. "Imagine if you made a copy of something on a copy machine. While it may look, to your eye to be just as perfect as the original, it wouldn't be. There would be some minor breakdown. If you continued to make copies from copies, eventually, the breakdown would become visible as each copy got slightly worse than the one before."

"But what if this is just a 'first generation' clone?" Bucky asked. "Wouldn't the breakdown be practically impossible for the equipment to find?"

"If it were ordinary medical equipment, I'd agree," Hank said. "However, the equipment in the Medlab is far from ordinary. It had the capability to break things down the molecular level. We scanned Sean every way and found no sign of breakdown anywhere."

"So he's not a clone, right?" Jubilee asked.

Hank looked over at his wife before answering. "Well, according to our scanners, he is not. But I won't rule out the possibility, yet." He looked away from Kimber, knowing her eyes were beginning to smolder. "I will say though, that if he is a clone, he's a very good one. He would have to have been created by someone far advanced in the science."

"Sinister," Remy said, in a low whisper. "If anyone had the ability t'make a perfect clone, it would be him."

"Exactly," Hank said.

Kimber shook her head. "Can we dispense with the bullshit, for one single moment?"

Everyone turned to look at her. She rose from her chair. "What possible purpose could Sinister have in wanting to clone my brother, for God's sake? He's not powerful, he's not even a mutant!" She leaned forward, putting her hands on the table, her eyes darting from person to person. "He's my brother. He's not a clone; he's not some sort of evil trick being played on us. He's my brother, Sean Amadeus Mason. Yeah, I can't explain why he was dead and now he's alive, I can't explain how he came back, but somehow, someway, he did. And maybe you'd all just better learn to accept that!"

"Kimber," Scott began, keeping his voice even. "No one is saying he's not your brother, we're just saying we don't understand-"

"Of course you don't understand!" Kimber interrupted. "I don't understand. But what is faith? The ability to believe in something you can't see, you can't taste, you can't touch. Maybe it was just plain faith that brought Sean back. We don't know have to know why. We may never know why he's back! Is that important? No. What matters is that he is back. And if any of you have any wild ideas that we're going to keep him under observation, like some sort of lab rat, for awhile, just to make sure he wasn't sent to infiltrate us, you'd better think again. He's my brother and he's got enough problems as it is. We're not going to add to them. If you don't want him here at the mansion while he's working things out, fine. I'll be happy to make arrangements for him to stay someplace else. But don't for one damned minute; think that I'm going to let everyone treat him like he's some sort of freak. So, make the call, X-Men. He stays here or he goes, but if he goes, I'm going with him."

She turned and looked at Hank. "And I'll take our son with us. You're welcome to join us if you want, but I'm not abandoning Sean. He's my brother and it's my job to make sure he gets on his feet."

Hank reached out, putting his hand over hers. "It's all right, Kimber. It's not going to come to that." He looked around the room. "She's right. We can't explain why Sean is back; it's beyond what we know. Maybe someday, we'll find an explanation or cause that makes sense, but for now, I agree with my wife. Sean is back, let's just accept that as fact. I have been a member of this team for a very long time; you're like a family to me. But Kimber our son are my family and my place is with them, be that here or someplace else."

Kimber sat down, still clutching Hank's hand, tears coming to her eyes. "So, folks," she whispered, "what's it going to be?" She looked around the room. "Do we back off? Let's take a vote? Who wants him to stay here, while he gets himself together?"

Her hand shot up in to the air, followed by Hank's. A few seconds later, Logan's joined it. Then slowly, every hand in the room began to rise into the air.

While the X-Men were having their discussion, Sean was supposed to be sleeping, but he was not.

While it had been one hell of a day, or as he was finding out, a hell of a six years, despite having woken up in the water, despite all he had been through, he could not sleep.

I've been gone six years, he said to himself. He had been saying that a lot to himself the last few hours, trying to make it seem real. It was not working. He still felt as if it were only yesterday when he walked into the convenient store that had cost him his life. He vaguely remembered some sort of commotion; a someone was robbing the place. He could even remember the robber turning her gun on him, but beyond that, nothing.

How could I be dead? How could I come back? He had no answers. It was too much for him to grasp, despite what his sister had told him. Then don't try to even grasp that, he advised himself. Don't think about being dead, think of it as being missing for six years.

Everything had changed. His sister had married Hank, something he never thought would happen. They had a son together. He was now an uncle. I wonder when I'll get the chance to meet the kid?

He knew the X-Men were suspicious and he could hardly blame them. He had no clues as to how he had returned after all these years. He was no help at all. If only I could remember something! he thought. Anything, be it Heaven or Hell or wherever I was existing. But I remember nothing.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask Kimber, but he did not know where to begin. The biggest ones were about Siku, but he was scared. Six years was a long time for someone who had been eighteen at the start of them. She would have graduated from college, at least the first four years by now. She could be married. Would it be so surprising? She was a wonderful person and despite that fact that she had loved him, she had thought he was gone forever. It would make sense that she had gone on with her life.

What are you going to do if she has? he asked himself.

He had no clue. Morn and cry, he supposed, then pull himself back together. Even if she was not married, it would not mean that she would still feel the same way about him.

But you know she's not married.

He looked around for a moment, then realized he had not heard that with his ears, but in his head. "How do I know she's not married?" he asked, speaking aloud to the empty guestroom.

He could not answer that, because he did not know how he knew it, he just knew it. Just as he knew...

She's coming here.

He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. His hands were trembling and he could feel his armpits dampening with sweat. He got up from the bed and got dressed again, putting on the sweatpants he had stolen, and a sweatshirt Kimber had gotten for him. I wonder who it belongs to? he thought as he pulled it over his chest. It occurred to him that being dead for six years, he had nothing anymore.

Or do I? I still have my sister. And I might even have more... something more precious than anything else.

He walked over to the window and looked outside. There was a car pulling through the gates. His breath caught sharply in his throat. He could not see who was in the car, but he knew who it was.

Turning, he ran from the room, down the stairs, almost tripping in his haste. He caught on to the banister at the bottom, steadying himself for a moment, then sprang forward to the front door, grabbing the knob in his hand and turning it.

The door opened and he ran outside. The car had pulled up to the front of the house and stopped. The person inside was getting out. Sean started across the lawn and then stopped abruptly to watch, feeling as if his insides were trying to turn themselves into knots.

Her hair was longer than he remembered it, flowing down her back, and perhaps a little darker now. She might even be a couple of inches taller as well. But she was still...

"Siku!"

He wanted to scream it, shout it as loud as he could, but what came out was more of a pathetic whisper. He could barely hear it himself.

Still, she turned and looked in his direction. See me, he silently prayed. Don't think you're seeing a ghost, I can't deal with that again, it was hard enough with Kimber. See me and know.

For a moment, she leaned forward, her hands on the roof of the car, bracing herself. Her eyes were almost impossibly wide. He felt his heart begin to sink in his chest. She doesn't believe. She can't believe. She thinks I'm still dead.

 Then she straightened up, taking her hands off the car. Mere fractions of seconds, but it seemed like a lifetime to Sean. Her eyes were still round seas of blue, but her mouth was curving into a smile. She ran around the car and across the lawn.

"Sean!"

He stood on the grass, his bare feet freezing in the morning frost, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch her coming towards him. I have to do something! part of his mind screamed. The problem was that he could not grasp at what it should be, all he could do was watch as she came closer and closer, mesmerized by her, his eyes filling with the sight of her, wanting to take it in forever.

Then she was right in front of him and he still was not sure of what to do, until his body took over, overriding the cloud in his head, realizing that he was not going to just stare at her. He started to reach out to her, just one trembling hand. "Y-you know it's me, don't you?" he whispered.

She nodded tears streaming down her face, forming tiny droplets that sparkled in the early morning sun. "I don't know how, I just know... it's you. I knew when you came back..."

His hand managed to connect to her face, brushing along the fur on her cheek, feeling the silkily softness of it. She reached up and closed her hand around his, holding it gently. They looked into each other's eyes, noting that both of them were in tears. "Siku, I-" he began, then stopped. He had no clue what he should say now, what he could say.

She shook her head. "We don't have to talk, we just have to be."

At the same moment, they both wrapped their arms around each other, crying into the other's shoulder, tears of joy and confusion, and above all, a sense of finally belonging.

They held on to each other, each reviling in the other, and this chance to hold each other, to feel the warmth of the other. He still had no clue what had happened to him, but it did not matter. All that mattered was that he was back and she was with him. He had no idea what the future held for him, but he knew that no matter what happened, she would be a part of it. "H-how did you know?" he finally asked.

"Part of me died with you," she whispered into his ear. "And last night it came alive again."

Warmest Wishes
Darqstar