I am a spirit sent to guide the Chosen Ones of the Movieverses. My first assigment: Nightcrawler in X2. (Chapter 6.)
"I gotta shake 'em," Storm shouted. The jet did a barrel roll, neatly maneuvering out of the line of fire. Everyone's stomachs did upsetting flips and there were a few queasy faces among the mutants.
"Please don't do that again," John requested. He sounded terrified.
"I agree," Logan said. I gave a silent sigh.
"That's the only time those two are ever going to agree," I thought.
In the distance, I heard the two smaller jets do a super fast maneuver and begin to zero in on us again. Jean almost looked ready to do another roll in a repeat attempt to throw off the air force pilots, but she seemed to remember how nauseous the passengers would feel if she did that again. Besides, the air force could mach us move for move. Another plan of action was needed.
Logan was getting frustrated. "Don't we have any weapons in this heap?" he shouted over the din of the alarms and jet engines.
I managed a faint smile. "Yes, we sure do!" I said.
Strom's eyes clouded over in reply to Logan's question and she cocked her head slightly. Rich, smoky black clouds quickly materialized in the sky. Storm rapidly made them produce dozens of long, powerful tornados. Jean easily maneuvered the jet safely around them. One of the air force pilots made an emergency evacuation of his jet. In my mind's eye, I saw him parachute safely to the ground.
The X-Jet continued to rock and roll as we dodged Storm's twisters. Rogue still hadn't managed to buckle herself in properly. She clutched her restraints tightly, although I could tell that wouldn't be enough to keep her in.
I sensed that the second air force pilot had also safely evacuated from her jet, but not before she launched two missiles at us. I knew that it would take an awesome amount of power to stop those missiles from hitting their target. Unfortunately, that was a type of power that I did not have.
Storm's eyes cleared as the radar showed that now both of the smaller jets had gone. The dark clouds and tornados vanished. "Everybody okay back there?" Jean asked.
"No," Logan replied flatly. An involuntary smirk crossed my lips, but my heart remained tense and alert.
The jet's radar resumed its frantic beeping. Jean and Strom looked at it in alarm. Nightcrawler too looked up worryingly at the cockpit controls. The radar showed the missiles streaking right for us.
"Oh my God. There's two of 'em," Storm reported. She sounded really scared because she knew that they would be impossible to shake off.
Jean began to concentrate extremely hard on one of the missiles, trying to throw it off track.
"Come, on, Jean," I prayed silently. I felt a huge surge of power burst from within her and radiate towards the missile. It fizzled, spluttered, spun out of control and safely exploded well clear of the X-Jet. Logan looked at Jean in amazement and I couldn't help but give a small internal cheer at this accomplishment, although I knew that it wouldn't be quite enough to save us.
"There's one more," Storm reminded us, and I knew that it was closing in fast. "Jean?" Storm looked to her friend, counting on her to repeat her life-saving tactic on the second missile.
Jean gave a frightened gasp as she realized that she couldn't stop it in time. "Oh, God!" she breathed, and I knew that was it.
The missile exploded and tore a large hole in the roof of the jet. I flinched as the explosion rattled through my body. Rogue screamed, as she was vacuumed out of the jet by the roaring winds. Bobby tried to grab her as she blew past him, but failed.
"Rogue!" he shouted desperately.
"No!" Logan added with similar desperation.
"Kurt!" I screamed. "You're the only one who can save her!" With a flash of dark blue smoke that was quickly blown away, Nightcrawler bamfed out of sight. He returned a second later with Rogue clutched tightly in his arms. He grasped at the bases of the seats with his tail and feet. Miraculously, he managed to keep a secure hold.
The X-Jet began a dangerous nosedive towards a forest that was still a few thousand feet below us. Nothing Storm or Jean could do would save us, although Heaven know they wished that they could. Jean and Logan exchanged agonized 'farewell' looks. I don't think anyone believed that they would survive the crash.
"Come on, Magneto!" I muttered to myself. "Where are you?"
Suddenly the lights in the X-Jet began to flicker. The gaping, open wound in the jet seemed to heal itself and its deadly decent seemed to slow a little. I knew who was causing all of this to happen, of course, and I gave a huge sigh of relief. It felt almost like I had been holding my breath forever. The others didn't realize that everything was going to be ok, though.
"Jean?" a frightened Storm inquired in such a way to ask if she was the one who was controlling the jet.
"It's not me," Jean responded. She sounded both mystified and terrified.
Just then, the jet stopped. Just plain and simply stopped. Yet it had not crashed into the pine forest that was now only a few meters below us. Everyone who was buckled in fell against his or her restraints. I caught myself just in time to prevent from slamming into the back of the seat in front of me.
The sound of the rushing wind had gone and had been replaced by the sounds of the flickering lights, the heavy breathing from the X-men and the kids and a strange, yet familiar, magnetic humming in the background. I peered out through the cockpit window and saw two people whom I never expected that I would be happy to see.
Magneto and Mystique (in all her blue skinned, scaled glory,) were standing there calmly as if this kind of thing happened everyday. Magneto was in complete control of the jet, and somehow I trusted that he would rest it down as gently as he could. Even Logan looked surprised, and I think even a bit relieved to see them.
"When will these people learn how to fly?" Magneto asked his female accomplice, and they chuckled to themselves. (I couldn't hear him say it, but I know that's what he said.) I just shook my head and smiled.
"Let's never, ever do that again, ok?" I said a little shakily. Kurt gave me an analogizing, and agreeing, smile.