Blood pounds in my ears like war drums as the Blackbird touches down on Xavier's landing pad. I don't wait for the engines to power down. The second the ramp begins to lower, I'm already moving, Jubilee's body cradled against my chest like something precious and broken.
I stumble down the ramp, my legs barely holding me upright.
Gene stands at the bottom, his refined face twisting into horror as he takes in the scene. His emerald eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. For once, there's no calculation in his gaze, no judgment, just pure, unfiltered grief.
"Gene," I choke out. "Please tell me we can fix her."
I sound pathetic, desperate, like a child begging for a miracle I know isn't coming. But I can't stop myself.
Gene stares at Jubilee's headless corpse, his face pale beneath his perfect complexion. Something shifts in his expression, the arrogance and jealousy that usually define him completely absent. He looks at me with genuine compassion, like he's seeing me for the first time.
"Jack, I..." his voice breaks, gentle in a way I've never heard from him before. "Jack, can I take Jubilee from you?"
His hands reach out, steady and sure despite the horror before him. There's no smugness, no competition between us anymore.
I tighten my grip instinctively, not ready to let her go. Not ready to admit this is real.
"We need to get her to the lab," Gene says softly. "Let me help you, Jack. You've carried her far enough."
Something about his words breaks the last of my resistance. My arms shake as I transfer Jubilee's body to him, watching as he cradles her tenderly.
"I couldn't save her," I whisper. "I tried... I tried so hard."
Gene looks at me, those emerald eyes swimming with tears. "I know you did," he says simply. "I know."
I can't look at Gene anymore, can't bear the compassion in his eyes. Jubilee's blood is drying on my clothes, stiff and sticky against my skin. My feet feel rooted to the landing pad, like I'll never move again.
Emma's cool hand settles on my shoulder from behind. "Jack. Go shower in my room. I'll meet you there shortly."
I whirl around, anger flashing through my grief. "Are you serious?" I snarl, giving her my best death glare. "You want to use this moment to try to seduce me? While Jubilee's blood is still on my fucking hands?"
Emma's expression shifts, her perfect features softening into something that looks almost like hurt. "No," she says quietly. "I just don't want you to be alone right now, Jack." She glances toward the main building where I can see Xavier's silhouette in the window. "I want to be with you, but there are certain things I need to tell Xavier right now that can't wait."
I stare at her, trying to read past that mask she always wears.
"You have your own shower?" I ask after a moment, my voice hollow.
"Yes. In my room."
I nod, too numb to argue anymore. Everything feels distant, like I'm watching myself from far away. Jubilee is gone. Nothing else really matters.
I trudge across the grounds toward the mansion, my body moving on autopilot. Students scatter as I pass, whispering behind their hands. I must be quite a sight, covered in blood, eyes vacant. I don't care.
Emma's room is exactly what I expected. Pristine white everything, from the plush carpet to the silk bedspread. It's twice the size of my dorm room, with a separate sitting area and a comfortable bathroom.
I head straight for the shower, stripping off my blood-soaked clothes and leaving them in a heap on the tiled floor. The water turns on automatically when I step in, perfectly hot without any adjustment needed. Of course Emma would have some fancy smart shower.
I stand under the steaming spray, watching as Jubilee's blood swirls down the drain in pink rivulets. My mind keeps replaying it, the look in her eyes when she realized what was happening, the explosion of pink energy, the way her body crumpled to the ground.
I hear footsteps in the bathroom. Soft, measured steps that could only belong to one person.
"Are you okay, Jack?" Emma's voice cuts through the steam, somehow both gentle and intrusive at the same time.
"No." The word comes out raw, like it's being dragged across broken glass.
"Do you need help?"
"No." I press my forehead against the cool tile, letting the water continue to pound against my back.
There's a hesitation, the silence stretching between us like a living thing.
"Do you want me to join you?"
I close my eyes, too numb for anything else. "I don't care."
I hear the rustle of fabric, the soft thud of clothes hitting the floor. Then the glass door slides open, and Emma steps into the shower with me. For once, I don't even register her body, don't notice the curves that would normally make my heart race. All I see is her face, immaculate as always, but twisted with a sadness so profound it catches me off guard.
"Come here," she whispers, reaching for me.
She pulls me against her chest, my face pressed into the crook of her neck. Something about this simple human contact breaks the dam I've been desperately trying to hold together. I cry. No, I shatter. My body convulses with sobs so violent they feel like they might tear me apart. Emma holds me through it all, her arms strong and sure around my shaking frame.
"I couldn't save her," I choke out between sobs. "I really tried. With every fibre of my being, I tried."
Emma's hand strokes my wet hair, her touch surprisingly gentle. "I know you did," she murmurs against my temple. "I know."
"It should have been me," I whisper. The words tear from somewhere deep inside me, raw and broken.
"No, Jack." Emma's tone is firm despite its softness, her hands tightening on my shoulders as she pulls back to look at me. Water streams down her face, making her look almost human for once. "You can't think like that."
I pull away from her, my chest heaving with ragged breaths. The water streams down between us.
Something shifts inside me as I look at her. Maybe it's grief making me crazy, or maybe it's just that I need to feel something besides this crushing weight of failure and loss.
"When you hit the ground back there," I whisper, "I got so scared, Emma. I thought I was going to lose you."
Before I can think about what I'm doing, I surge forward, capturing her lips with mine. There's nothing gentle about it, it's desperate, hungry, reckless. I need to feel alive when everything inside me feels dead.
Emma freezes for just a heartbeat before responding with equal intensity, her hands gripping my wet hair, pulling me closer. Her body presses against mine, all smooth skin and curves I can finally feel. The shower steam swirls around us as our mouths move together, her tongue sliding against mine in a dance that makes me forget.
Suddenly, Emma pulls back, her lips leaving mine as she studies my face. Her eyes are both starving and assessing as they search mine.
"Is this really what you want, Jack?" she asks, her tone husky but measured.
I open my mouth, but the words get stuck somewhere between my brain and my tongue. "I... I don't know," I finally admit.
Emma sighs, the sound somehow both disappointed and understanding. Her fingers trace my jawline with surprising tenderness.
"You're not ready, Jack," she says softly. "Come on."
She takes my hand and leads me out of the shower, the sudden absence of hot water making me shiver. Emma reaches for a pair of plush white towels, handing one to me while wrapping the other around her body. I dry myself mechanically.
"Thanks for the shower," I mutter awkwardly, glancing toward the bloody pile of my clothes on the floor. I take a step toward them, but Emma's hand on my arm stops me.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asks.
"To bed," I say, not meeting her eyes. "My bed. In my room."
She shakes her head, water droplets flying from her platinum hair. "You're sleeping in here tonight."
I look up, confused. "I thought you said I wasn't ready."
"For making love, sure," Emma replies, her usual confidence returning as she adjusts her towel. "But I told you, I don't want you to be alone tonight."
I stand there, towel wrapped around my waist, considering her offer. The thought of returning to my empty room, with its memories of Jubilee bouncing on my bed while we watched stupid vampire shows, makes my chest constrict painfully. The silence there would be deafening. I'd be trapped alone with the image of her headless body, the sound of her last scream echoing in my ears.
I take a deep breath, realizing with absolute certainty that I sincerely don't want to sleep alone tonight.
"Alright."