"When The Crowds Are Gone"

by Matt Nute

"Alison Blaire is dying."

Those were the only words that had been spoken by the six-armed sorceress known as Spiral when she had appeared in the middle of a Danger Room session. Instead of the almost required battle that normally would have ensued, silence had fallen over the assembled mutants of X-Force and the X-Men.

In the tense, wordless moment that stretched on, everyone paused, then one figure slowly advanced towards the white-haired witch. Removing his headgear, Shatterstar met Spiral’s gaze.

"Take me to her side." Behind him, another voice sounded.

"Ah’m going too." Shatterstar looked over his shoulder and glared.

"Mojoworld is not your home, Rogue. This is my matter that I must attend to." Rogue shook her head.

"Ah’m not even gonna pretend Ah know what the songbird means to you, but what Ah do know is this: she’s Longshot’s wife, and he’s gotta be hurtin’." Her voice cracked, almost imperceptibly. "And he’s mah friend. So Ah’m goin’." Slowly, Shatterstar nodded.

Spiral extended a hand to Shatterstar, palm upwards. He laid his palm atop hers, clasping fingers. With a look of mixed disdain and empathy, she extended a metal arm to the woman called Rogue. Her other four arms began to weave in a complex pattern, as lights began to rise and flicker about her.

"Oh, no way am I letting ‘Star head off into another dimension by himself!" A yellow-gloved hand clapped onto the otherdimensional swordsman’s shoulder. He glanced briefly into the eyes of Tabitha Smith, his teammate and the mutant pyrotechnic known as Meltdown.

"I… thank you, Meltdown." was all he would say. Tabitha smiled and pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. Finally, a blue-skinned hand clasped Rogue’s leather-clad shoulder.

"I’m coming, too." stated Warren Worthington, the high-flying Angel. He spread his feathered wings in a grand gesture, almost challenging anyone to deny him. From across the Danger Room, he met the gazes of the others assembled. Most of them knew the past relationship between he and Alison, once called the Dazzler for her mutant ability to convert sound into light. And none of them were about to stop him.

As Spiral raised her arms one final time in her dance, light encircled the five of them, then faded, leaving the rest of their comrades standing awestruck and confused.

"What do we do now?" mumbled Bobby Drake, looking to his friends. From behind his ruby quartz visor, Scott Summers, the leader of the X-Men, took a deep breath.

"Now," he said, "now, we pray."

Time changed color. Space shifted pitch in a constant cacophony of noise and dissonance. And just as suddenly as the maelstrom had begun…

It stopped.

The five travelers stood in an empty theater, alone on a bare stage. Rogue looked about, dumbfounded by the lack of an audience, something unheard of on Mojoworld.

"Spiral," she began, "not ta seem too curious, but what gives? Ah’ve never heard of any performance in the Mojoverse bein’ empty…" Spiral silently turned away and strode off the stage, through the empty aisles towards the exits. Warily, Warren took to the air, following her. Slowly, Rogue followed suit, with Tabitha and Shatterstar in tow.

Once outside, they all gasped as one. The Spineless Ones, the former rulers of the media-driven planet, lay before them, all prostrate and silent. At the head of them stood a humanoid figure, light purple hair blowing in the wind.

"Major Domo." growled Shatterstar. "Mojo’s lackey." Rogue placed a hand on his arm, restraining him. Tabitha looked around. Every television set, every screen, every monitor was dark. From the air, Warren could see the denizens of Mojoworld standing, lying, and kneeling all the way to the horizon. With his hawklike vision, he could see almost every one of them clutching small flags. Even the children grasped small scraps of blue cloth, emblazoned with a yellow sunburst emblem.

Dazzler’s insignia. Warren landed next to Shatterstar, almost able to palpably feel the warrior’s discomfort. Never before had he been around so many of his people, and felt their utter silence, their despondency. He was accustomed to the cheers of the crowd, the chaos of the masses during one of his gladiatorial matches, or one of his media spots. But this… this was unheard of.

"It’s a media blackout…" breathed Meltdown. "They’re all here. All of them."

"Exactly." intoned Spiral. "Every man, woman, and child on the planet has made the pilgrimage here to Production Central. This is the biggest series finale of them all. The curtain call to end all cu-rrk!" Her veiled jeer was interrupted by Shatterstar’s blade at her throat.

"This woman, whom you so casually scoff at," he hissed, "is our Queen. And more." Spiral slowly edged away from the twin blade and nodded.

"Through here." She silently led the four mutants through a black-draped archway, slowly proceeding through the crowd that parted before them. Major Domo cut them off quickly.

"Spiral," he sneered. "these.. guests of yours are not authorized. They may wait out here with the commoners." He folded his arms across his chest.

Seconds later, he was being held in the air, one of Rogue’s inhumanly strong hands gripping the front of his tunic. Spiral and Shatterstar both held blades to his throat, while Meltdown held a small ball of glowing plasma, prepared to shove it down his throat. The Angel, on the other hand, merely glared with enough rage to show that he was prepared to kill the simulacrum in a second.

"On second thought," he gasped, "perhaps a… walk-on appearance would not be amiss?" Rogue threw him aside roughly and strode first through the doors.

Once inside, however, she gasped and stopped dead in her tracks. The four others crowded by her, with similar reactions. Before them lay a figure barely recognizable as human, there were so many wires and tubes protruding from the bed. Scanners beside the bed beeped slowly, a dim metronome counting away seconds of precious life.

And perched like a raven at the head of the bed sat a blond-haired man, lean of face and figure, clad in a black leather jacket and breeches. Rogue slowly walked up, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Longshot." she whispered. He nodded, covering her five-fingered hand with his four-fingered one.

"Rogue." he answered. "She’s dying." A tear fell from his eye, splashing on the face of his beloved, beneath the bandages and medical apparatus. The other four circled the bed, each bearing looks of concern and fear.

"What happened?" croaked Warren. Longshot looked up, meeting the blue man’s gaze.

"An illness that none of us saw until it was too late. Before you ask, there is no vaccine, no cure. And yes, it is fatal." He hung his head in shame. "She hid it from us all for months, until she grew too weak to hide the symptoms. She is wasting away, and we all can only watch."

Everyone grew silent, save for the slow, measured breathing from the woman on the bed. While everyone watched, Shatterstar unsheathed his swords and slowly, with infinite care, lay them beside the body of his Queen. Taking a knee by Longshot, he dropped his eyes to the floor as well. Tabitha took a step back and nudged Warren.

"What’s with ‘Star?" she questioned. "I mean, we all thought he was some test-tube clone, But it turns out he was really this Ben Russell kid from Boston all along. So why’s this lady here so important to him?"

"You think you know it all." came the choked reply from behind them. Tabitha turned to see Spiral holding her helmet in her two bottom arms, her fine white hair covering her face. Stifling a sob, the sorceress continued.

"Not even the boy himself knows the truth. It is a story twisted by love and fate, of sacrifice and duty. Before you, known to you as Shatterstar, kneels the greatest tragedy the cosmos has known." Warren stepped over in front of the six-armed woman.

"I know that you weren’t always like this, Spiral." He whispered. "You were once human, a woman, Rita. Mojo twisted you into his puppet, and whatever he did to your soul in the process, it turned your heart black as pitch." Spiral glanced up, through a veil of tears. With a shrill cry, she drew an arm back, then slapped Warren Worthington soundly across the jaw.

"How DARE you!" she hissed. "You know not the pains I have suffered for this boy!" Before she could strike again, she felt a light hand in her arm.

"Then tell us." She looked behind her to see Shatterstar, his red hair unbound, staring into her face. And in that instant, all the years of battle-hardened arrogance, the magicks that hid her mind away, all of it broke like crystal. And Spiral wept. She gestured, and in a flicker of light, she and the others vanished, leaving Rogue alone with Longshot and Alison.

"Where’s she taken them?" Rogue asked. Longshot placed a hand on her waist, restraining her.

"She will not harm them." He said quietly. "It is time for the truth to be told." Rogue looked into the blue eyes that so many years ago had captured her heart and girlish fancies. She could see that the years had jaded the man who had once been the very soul of innocence. She saw the toll of civil war, of leadership, and the sorrow of losing his wife. She squeezed his hand carefully in her gloved palm.

"If you will excuse me," he whispered, "I must consult the healers and the mourners. It will not be long." Before she could say anything, Longshot slipped from her grasp and walked into the shadows. Rogue started after him, then heard a small, weak voice from the bed.

"…well…if it ain’t the Mississippi swamp rat…" Rogue turned, a retort on her lips. She looked down into Alison’s clouded blue eyes gazing up at her. She bit back the reflexive comeback and sat down.

"How ya doin’, Ali?" she managed to croak out. "Ya don’t look so hot." Alison laughed, a weak, sickly sound.

"Been.. better…" her jest was interrupted by a fit of weak coughing. Rogue rose to summon a healer, but Alison forced her hand up onto Rogue’s forearm.

"Don’t waste your time…" she breathed. Rogue sat back down, holding Dazzler’s hand in her own.

"Don’t talk like that, girl." She whispered in her Southern accent. "Y’all gonna be happy and live a long life together, you an’ Longshot. Don’t you quit on me, songbird." Alison smiled weakly.

"Time… time’s different here, Rogue." She responded. "Longshot and I have had a long and happy life. I wish you could have seen it, Rogue. The wedding, our… our family…" Rogue gasped.

"Y’all had a family?" she squeaked. "And Ah never got told?" She smiled and wagged a finger at her friend. "An’ here Ah thought Ah was gonna be an auntie…" she paused, then hunched over sadly.

"Aw, who’m Ah kidding?" she sighed. "You an’ me weren’t never that close, Ali. Ah mean, ever since ya joined the X-Men, Ah gave ya nothin’ but grief. An’ then…now…" she sniffed, ribbing away a tear. Alison chuckled and squeezed her arm affectionately.

"You’re kidding? As I remember, last time we spoke, I was blasting you into the Siege Perilous!" she laughed, ending it with a phlegm-stifled cough.

"Now wait a cotton-pickin’ minute!" Rogue protested. "Ah ordered ya to do that, so’s we could destroy Master Mold! Ya only did whatcha had ta!" She smiled at her bedridden comrade and saw it returned warmly.

"I’m dying, Rogue." Alison finally whispered.

"Ah know, Dazz." Rogue replied. "Ah’m here."

"I’m so scared, Rogue…"

"Ah’m here, sugah." Rogue breathed softly, bending over to embrace her friend. "Ah’ll be here for ya. Ah promise."

Meanwhile, atop the roof of the theater, Spiral sat, surrounded by Meltdown, Shatterstar, and Angel, who all looked at her expectantly.

"I loved him, you know." She finally admitted.

"Longshot?" Tabitha asked, to be answered with a nod.

"With all my heart. But Mojo twisted that love into hate. He sent me back in time, to stop me from ever meeting Longshot, and tainting my heart with that love." Warren coughed, interrupting her.

"Excuse me, but, wouldn’t that be a paradox?" he demanded. "If you never met Longshot, how could Mojo turn you into Spiral?" The witch merely smiled.

"You Earthers have such a limited concept of space-time. I never was that Rita, and I always was. You call yourself Warren Worthington, yet you are not the same man that Charles Xavier took in, those years past." She spat. Warren looked offended.

"My body has changed, but my soul is the same. I AM Warren Worthington, despite what my body may say." He claimed. Spiral laughed sharply.

"A soul? Does that define who we are?" she cackled. "Then hear this, that I exist not." She pointed at Shatterstar. "But the soul, that is the key of his existence."

"Explain yourself, woman." Shatterstar spoke, bringing himself to sit before her. "You know who I am. Tell me." He pleaded.

Tabitha glanced from Spiral to Shatterstar and back again. I’ve never seen him so… humble…, she thought to herself. Whatever Spiral had to say, Statterstar’s every fiber of being hinged on it. Softly, she spoke;

"Mojo was deposed, and the planet was Longshot’s to rule. But he refused to be a tyrant king like Mojo, or a feeble-minded puppet like his successor, Mojo II. He was a good king, IS a good king. And his wife, she was a Queen in every sense of the word.

"She went to her people who were hungry, and she fed them. Not only in body, but also in spirit. Every bit of the woman I was yearned to love her, to swear fealty to her as a queen. But my spite was still greater, and my jealousy greater still.

"So I plotted with our darkest mages and our most cunning scientists. Soon the Queen was with child, and my plan was complete. When their son was born, I danced the most forbidden of dances, the spell of Soul Theft."

Around her, a collective gasp sounded. "You killed a BABY?" Tabitha screeched, reeling back. Spiral shook her head.

"I should have. It would have been less evil. I took his very life essence. Uemeur, the mystics call it. And I placed it into a vatgrown body, physically identical in every way. I had Longshot’s child, mine in every way save for the most essential one.

"When I realized that they would find me out, the boy was already too old to hide easily. The King and Queen had taken their child to Earth, where they thought their doctors could save him. And so I feared they would find out my deception. So I took the boy back through time, and hid him where no one would dare search for him."

"In the slave pits of the gladiators." Shatterstar whispered. He looked up, through eyes unreadable for any emotion. "They dubbed him ‘Gaveedra’, the name given to all foundlings. He was one of many, and when he was old enough to fight, he took the name ‘Gaveedra 7’, in honor of six of his brothers who had fallen in the arena."

Spiral nodded. "And I watched him, realizing that if I used my magicks to keep him safe, they would discover, and he would be killed. I watched every battle, dreading the day I would see my son slain. But like his father, he was special. And like his father, he would become a hero. He dared defy Mojo, and fled to Earth to seek aid in his mad quest."

"And he met up with X-Force…" Tabitha breathed out in a rush. "But what was the deal with Longshot’s real son? Dazzler’s baby? Did he ever get well?" Spiral looked hard into Shatterstar’s face.

"I should say that he has. When I realized that Gaveedra was no longer mine, I took their child from where he lay, living his entire life comatose. I worked my magicks, but to no avail. I had stolen his soul, and could not return it. My heart was impure, and the magick shied from me. So I ensured that no one, not Longshot, nor his wife, would ever find the child. I put him into the care of the Weisman Institute, and used my connections from Freedom Force to create a false identity for him. And I named him,"

"Benjamin Russell." Shatterstar whispered.

"Benjamin Russell" Spiral nodded. Meltdown sat down hard on the rooftop.

"Wow. And I thought MY family was whacked." Spiral stood, turning to face the courtyard.

"Because of my hatred and my black, black heart, I ruined the lives of the only two men that I ever loved." She drew her sword from its scabbard, flipped it over, and presented the hilt to Shatterstar, who gingerly took it. She knelt, closing her eyes.

"Make your justice quick." She breathed. Shatterstar nodded. He raised the sword high.

Behind him, Tabitha leaped to her feet. Warren stepped forward, putting his arm across the blonde girl’s chest.

"It’s his choice, Tabs." She bit her lip.

"’Star, no…" she whispered. Shatterstar’s muscles rippled as he held the silver blade high, jaw set as if in stone. Then, he brought the sword down savagely.

Instead of striking undefended flesh, though, it struck the stone of the rooftop, shattering into millions of shining pieces. Spiral opened her eyes, not daring to look up. Softly, Shatterstar knelt, pulling her to her feet. As they both stood silently, neither having any expression on their faces, time seemed to stop.

Then, gingerly at first, Shatterstar put his arms around the sorceress and embraced her. Startled, then overcome by emotion, Spiral clutched the young man tightly. And for the first time since they had known him, Warren and Tabitha saw Shatterstar weep.

"Wow." gasped Tabitha. "That’s something new."

"It’s called forgiveness." Came a voice from behind them all. The four of them whirled to see Longshot standing across the roof. Tension mounted as he crossed the distance, standing in front of Spiral. The witch was silent once more. Longshot placed a hand under her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. His eye blazed with the magic that was his power, his wild luck.

"I heard. Every word. I know now that you are more evil than I ever imagined." Spiral tried to look away, but was caught in his strong grip. "You would have destroyed everything I hold dear, you put me and Alison through years of mourning and loss." He released her suddenly, drawing his own sword from his side. No one dared move.

"And if my…" he paused, looking at Shatterstar, "my son… chooses to forgive you…" he raised the sword slowly, then brought it down across his knee, breaking it cleanly.

"Then so shall I."

And in the awkward, heartfelt embrace that followed between the three, no one noticed two mutants slipping away off the rooftops, unwilling to interfere.

"Rogue?" the weak voice came from the bed.

"Ah’m here, Ali." Rogue answered. The others had returned from the rooftop, and taken turns watching by Alison’s side. Rogue and Longshot stood alone now, as the dawn slowly approached.

"I’m here too, my love." Longshot whispered. Alison smiled.

"It’s time." She breathed. Longshot embraced her tightly.

"No!" he swore. "Fight! Fight for just one more hour with me, my love." She smiled, weakly placing her arms over his shoulders.

"Do this for me then, love?" she said, with a small amount of strength to her voice.

"Anything." He responded. She slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position.

"Get me out of this bed, I need to see them." She whispered.

"We’re all here, Ali." spoke Warren, emerging from a nearby room. Shatterstar followed, dressed in raiment suiting a prince. Alison gasped, looking slowly at him, then at Longshot.

"Our… our son?" she asked, voice choked with tears. Shatterstar nodded. "My son, my beautiful son…" she whispered. She raised her arms, and the boy once called Ben Russell rushed to his mother, holding her as tightly as he dared. Behind him, Spiral stood in the shadows, one sole tear falling from her face.

"I want to see them all, our people." Alison managed to say. "They have come so far for their Queen, let me sing for them, one last time." Longshot smiled, lifting his wife from the bed.

"We shall give the people their Queen." was all he would say.

As the sun began to cast its faint light over the horizon, the people of Mojoworld looked up as one, as the familiar hum of speakers began to sound. One by one, monitors flickered, casting the image of the Royal Stage to the entire planet. Every man, woman, and child hushed themselves reverently and watched intently.

Slowly, like clouds parting, the curtains swept aside, revealing Alison Blaire, gaunt but standing, clad in her blue bodysuit with the golden starburst, clutching a microphone stand like a lifeline. In the wings behind her, Longshot stood, with his son beside him and Warren, Rogue, and Tabitha behind them. Alison coughed, then spoke into the microphone, as if she had never left it behind for the life of royalty.

"My people, my beloved people… it has been the greatest honor of my life to love you, and be loved by you. It’s been all a girl who started out singing along with Motown’s Greatest on the radio could hope for. I can’t say… I can’t say I regret any of it." With that, she looked offstage and smiled at her husband. She gestured towards him. "The other love of my life." She claimed with a smile. Slowly, then with a building crescendo, the crowds applauded.

And Alison Blaire, the Dazzler, basked in the sound. She felt her powers charging, more than they had in years. And like the tide rushing back, she felt the sickness ebb. She knew, though, that it was illusion, and that this would be her final performance.

She would make it her greatest.

"This is an old one, but a good one." She stammered, as awkwardly as a new performer, not at all like one born to the stage. She raised an arm, and a slow piano melody began. And she sang, with a soft, clear voice.

Warren watched with tears in his eyes, remembering the vibrant woman he had once romanced, back when he was a majestic winged playboy, king of the skies. Now he was changed, more mature, wiser. And she… well, Alison was a queen. And deserving every moment. He listened as she began the chorus as the piano continued.

A lone guitar broke in, following the melody softly as Alison kept the song going. She felt her knees begin to weaken. Finish this! She swore to herself. And in the shadows above, six hands danced slowly. By all the gods there every were, she will finish this. Spiral promised.

"Oh Ali…" whispered Rogue. Ah wish Ah had your strength, girl. Here you are, your last breaths, and you’re giving ‘em to these people. God bless you, songbird. The music swelled as the drums sounded, bring Ali back into the chorus.

Shatterstar watched in silence. He had never seen Alison Blaire in person before this day, but when he had seen old footage of her concerts on television, every time he had seen her, he had felt an unspoken connection. Mother… the word came to his mind. He wanted so much to run to her side, but instead merely watched, amazed, at the woman who gave him life giving her life to those he loved. Including her son.

The music burst into a harsh beat as the key and tempo shifted. Alison gripped the microphone, raising her head to the sky and pouring her heart into her voice as she sang.

The crowd could see the tears pouring down her face as she sang. This was her swan song, her farewell performance. Tabitha Smith listened, eyes closed, swaying on the balls of her feet. She remembered being eight years old, with her hair moussed out, singing along with her Alison Blaire cassettes into a brush that was her microphone. As times changed, her tastes did as well, but hearing the Dazzler’s voice brought all her childhood pleasures back. Tabitha swayed and sang along quietly as Alison continued.

Alison began to waver on stage, holding onto the microphone for support. In a flash, her husband went to her side, looking into her eyes and singing the farewell again with her.

Slowly, Alison slid into her lover’s arms, giving him a soft smile. "It… it’s been luck, hasn’t it? Luck brought us together and gave us all this, wasn’t it?" Longshot shook his head.

"Luck may have brought us together, Alison, but love brought us the rest of the way." With that, he kissed her for the final time. She placed her cheek against his palm, then closed her eyes slowly. With eyes filling with tears, Longshot slowly knelt, laying her body on the stage and crossing her arms over her chest. In death, she was as beautiful as she had been in life, still shining with the light from her powers.

He stood, looking out at his people. Every one of them stood still, mourning their Queen. With trembling fingers, Longshot reached down and took the microphone from his wife’s hand as the piano slowed to the same slow melody it had begun with.

He would finish the song.

His voice was strained with the weight of a million sorrows as he finished the final note. And as if on cue, the stage lights winked out, one by one, until the body of the Queen was illuminated one final time, then the last of her power faded, and all was dark.

Finally, in the darkness, Tabitha whispered, "’Star?"

"I am here, Tabitha." She felt a hand slip into hers and squeeze. Feathered wings rustled as Warren placed an arm over Shatterstar’s shoulders and gave a supportive nod. Rogue, in turn, embraced the red-haired youth, then walked over to where Spiral stood in the darkness.

"What’re y’all gonna do now?" she asked.

"Mourn." Spiral replied honestly. "But first, I shall send you home."

"And where is my home now?" came Shatterstar’s reply. Longshot stepped over to his son.

"Wherever you like. You are more than welcome to remain here, you know." Shatterstar looked to Tabitha, who nodded slowly.

"I… I would like that. Father." He spoke quietly. Longshot nodded, then embraced his son.

"Let’s go home." whispered Warren. "We’ve got to break the news to the others."

"But not right now…" answered Rogue, as she walked over to Longshot and Shatterstar, joining their joint embrace.

"Yeah, not right now…" Warren whispered, walking after her. They would stay, and grieve, and commiserate. But in the end, they would live on.

Even after the crowds had gone.

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