The world narrows to a single point of horror. Jubilee's blood is hot on my face, her headless body crumpled on the jungle floor before me. I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't process what I just saw.
"JUBILEE!" My scream tears through my throat, raw and primal. I crawl toward her on hands and knees, the telekinetic restraints suddenly gone along with the monster who cast them.
Her body is still warm when I reach it, yellow coat now drenched in crimson. I gather what remains of her in my arms, my hands shaking so violently I can barely hold on.
"Come back," I whisper, then scream it. "COME BACK!"
I press my palms against the ragged stump where her neck ends, trying desperately to channel her wound into me.
"Please," I beg, focusing harder than I've ever focused before. "Please, not you."
Nothing happens. No familiar tingle of regeneration, no pull of injury into my own body. Just the slick feel of cooling blood between my fingers.
"I'll die instead," I promise the universe, tears streaming down my face. "I'll take it all. Just give her back!"
My voice breaks as I cradle what's left of her. "Please, Jubilee. Please don't die. You were my first friend here." My words dissolve into sobs. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this."
I rock back and forth, holding her cooling body against my chest, my shirt soaking through with her blood. The jungle buzzes with indifferent life around us. Birds call. Insects hum. The river flows. Everything continues while Jubilee doesn't.
"I don't know what to do," I whisper. "I don't know how to save you."
I try again, pressing my hands to her neck, concentrating until my head pounds with the effort. I'd gladly pull her injuries into myself, let my own head explode if it meant she could live. But my powers refuse to work.
"Jack."
Emma's voice cuts through my grief like a knife. I'd forgotten she was here. I turn to see her struggling to sit up, her perfect white outfit now smeared with dirt and blood.
"She's gone," Emma says softly, her usual sharp edges dulled by genuine sorrow. "You can't bring her back."
"NO!" I scream, my voice shattering like glass. I can't accept this. Won't accept this. "She's not gone! I can heal her! I just need to try harder!"
Emma crawls toward me, her usually perfect composure completely shattered. "Jack, please," she says, reaching for me.
"But she's my first friend, Emma!" I yell, clutching Jubilee's body tighter, her blood still warm against my chest. "Please..."
Emma's hands find my shoulders, her grip surprisingly strong despite her weakened state. Her ice-blue eyes lock with mine, and for once, there's no calculation or seduction there, just raw emotion and urgent clarity.
"I understand," she says softly. "I know how hard it can be to lose someone. But right now, one of the most dangerous telepaths in the world is skulking in this jungle, and he's better than me, Jack. We need to go right now."
My entire body feels like it's tearing apart from the inside. Each breath hurts. Each heartbeat is a betrayal to Jubilee who'll never breathe or feel her heart beat again. But somewhere in the fog of my grief, I know Emma's right.
I struggle to my feet, still holding Jubilee's headless body close against me. Her weight feels both impossibly heavy and terrifyingly light.
"Jack," Emma says, her voice gentler than I've ever heard it, "her body is just going to slow you down..."
I look at her, tears and blood mixing on my face. "I have to bring her home, Emma," I whisper, my voice cracking. "I can't leave her here."
There's a sudden crash from the underbrush. Morgan lands in the clearing, her claws fully extended, her face a feral mask of rage as she takes in the scene. When her eyes land on Jubilee's corpse in my arms, something shifts in her expression, the fierce wolverine momentarily replaced by something more human.
"Fuck," she growls, the single syllable somehow containing oceans of grief.
She stalks forward, retracting one set of claws to reach toward us. "I'll take her body, kid," she says gruffly. "You go ahead with Emma. I'll be right behind you."
I hesitate, unwilling to let go of the last physical connection I have to Jubilee.
"I promise I'll protect her," Morgan adds, her voice softening just slightly. "But you need to move now."
With trembling arms, I transfer Jubilee's body to Morgan. The moment she's no longer in my grasp, something breaks inside me, the finality of it all crashing down like an avalanche.
Emma's hand lands on my shoulder, firm but gentle. "Come on."
My legs feel like lead as I stumble forward, following Emma through the dense jungle. Everything blurs together, vines slapping against my face, branches catching on my clothes, roots trying to trip me with every step. Jubilee's blood is drying on my skin.
"Keep up," Emma calls back, her voice strained as she pushes through a tangle of vegetation.
I force myself to run faster, my lungs burning with each breath. The jungle is a green maze, disorienting and endless. I can hear Morgan behind us, carrying Jubilee's body with surprising gentleness for someone so fierce. Each time a branch snaps under her feet, I flinch, expecting Nova to reappear and finish what he started.
"Are you sensing him?" I gasp to Emma between ragged breaths.
"No," she replies tersely. "But that means nothing with someone like that. He could be masking his presence."
The clearing where we landed the Blackbird finally appears ahead, the sleek aircraft waiting like a mirage in the green hell we've been fighting through. Emma reaches it first, slamming her palm against the access panel. The ramp descends with a mechanical hiss.
We board in silence, the weight of what happened crushing any words we might have said. Morgan carries Jubilee to one of the passenger seats, positioning her body carefully.
"I'll fly," Morgan grunts, moving toward the cockpit with mechanical efficiency.
My hands shake violently as I fasten the safety harness around Jubilee's body. It feels obscene somehow, this normal action for someone who will never need protection from a crash again. When I finish, I collapse into the seat beside her and mechanically click my own harness into place.
Emma slides into the seat across from me, her face a mask of controlled panic as she presses her fingers to her temples. Her eyes close in concentration. Morgan's hands fly across the controls with practiced precision, and the Blackbird lurches upward, engines screaming as we tear away.
I reach out with trembling fingers and take Jubilee's still-warm hand in mine.
"Please," I whisper, focusing every cell in my body on pulling her injuries into me. I'd give anything to see her smile again, to hear her laugh. "I'll take the pain. I don't mind. Just work this time."
Just like last time. Nothing happens.