This had to be the strangest thing and Jasmine Honey Blossom had gotten used to strange a long while ago. When she was younger, her brother used to attend Xavier’s School for the Gifted but she met a lot of mutants. People who could set fire with their minds, control water with a flick of a wrist, and others, well, others who had managed to steal her teenage heart. Not literally, that would have been weird.

For a while in her youth she thought she had everything figured out. She met someone, a youthful girl who she was ready to spend her life with. At 17 she had known, for sure, that this was the person for her. And yet, that was not how things worked out. She was cheated on, hearts were broken, and words were said. That should have been the end of the story but fate was interesting.

She ran into this woman again, when she was in college and visiting New York. They talked, they bared their hearts, and a peaceful middle ground was found. They could chat, be online friends, and finally bury the hatchet.

Agnes. She will always hold a place in Jasmine’s heart. Even if she had managed to get a little wild a couple years ago, sending her a racy pic or two that Jasmine would immediately delete, she breathed a sad, though somewhat relieved, sigh when she vanished again. She didn’t know what was going on but she didn’t need that on her head.

However it would appear that fate was not done with them yet. The text she received was alarming. The tone behind it was rushed, panicked, and sounded very, very much like the old Agnes. Though they had been separated by at least a decade, Jasmine knew the sound of someone calling for help. And Agnes needed help.

What she found was nonetheless alarming. Once the shock finally began to ebb, Jasmine took the very confused Agnes into her car and sat there for several minutes, trying to figure out what to do next. This was well beyond anything that she ever experienced (personally) and she was at a loss as to what to do.

It was then that a thought came to her. She asked Agnes for her phone and immediately started to scroll. It had to be there. The name she had inadvertently grown to loathe. She didn’t see it at first and she felt annoyed but as she started to randomly click on Agnes’ contacts, she found the face that she was looking for. She had seen it before and knew that even if contact was labeled as “Pet”, that this was Becca. Copying the number she quickly sent her a text.

Hey Becca. This is Jasmine. Are you at the mansion? I have something you need to see.

***

This was confusing. Jasmine wasn’t talking to her. She just stared. She stared like she was staring at a freak and it made Agnes extremely uncomfortable. What made everything worse was how different she was. She was so much…older. It didn’t make a lick of sense. They had just started dating not too long ago and they were the same age. Now, here she was, a woman in her late twenties with a car, a driver’s license, and apparently married to a very nice dentist, Alexandra.

But...it didn’t make any sense. Agnes felt like a panic attack wanted to settle in her chest. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on so when her apparent ex asked for her phone, she handed over the one she had on her even though she didn’t remember owning one like it. After some scrolling, a quick text, Jasmine said she was going to take her to someone who could help.

However, after that, all conversation dropped. Agnes tried to ask questions, looking around the car, looking at a city that seemed vaguely familiar but different at the same time, but she was getting no answers. Jasmine just kept saying, wait until we get to where they were going. Becca would have answers. But that only led to an even bigger question: who was Becca?

Finally things started to look familiar. The open greenery, the trees, and the massive building. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the mansion. It was home. A small tear developed in the corner of her eye as she looked at Jasmine. She was relieved, but her ex, well, she still seemed petrified.

When they finally pulled up, Jasmine sighed, turned off the ignition and looked at Agnes. “Okay...um...let’s go. You should...find some help here. You do recognize ‘here’ right?”

Agnes arched her brow. ”Of course. It’s the mansion. Xavier’s. I live here. Well, at least until I get into Julliard.”

A visible pang cut across Jasmine’s expression but she just smiled a bit sadly and nodded. After beckoning for Agnes to get out of the car, she did and stood by the door. She still wasn’t sure what was going on, or why she was wearing the risque, ill-fitted pantsuit, but she hoped she would find answers here.

”Jasmine, seriously, what’s going on? Why is everything so weird?” she asked in confusion.

Jasmine, waiting by the car in her slacks, peach blouse, and tan jacket, just offered Agnes a small smile. “Just hold on. I called your...a friend. Becca should help.”

Agnes shook her head. ”Again, why do you keep saying that name? Who is Becca?”

It had been a weird day for Rebecca’s mental state. She had the day off with the students on winter break, so when she woke up with antennae, she had time to herself to reflect. The appendages did nothing, as was becoming the norm for these odd physical quirks she kept waking up with, but it did make her think back to Agnes. Not the Agnes at the end of things, but the one she knew for years following her move to the US.

Blaming hormones, Rebecca was ready for a quiet day of nostalgia and Binge. Her plans were interrupted, however, by an unexpected text message.

Jasmine? Jasmine Honey Blossom? That was unexpected and concerning. Given what a younger, more selfish Becca did to the woman, they did not keep touch, and Becca could not blame her. The trouble now was why she would text Becca of all people. There was no way this did not involve Agnes, and given who Agnes was these days, that had the Scot worried.

Going out to meet Jasmine as her car pulled in, Becca braced herself for what came next.

She was not prepared.

Seeing Agnes—not the sinister bombshell, but the Agnes cut straight from her teenage memories—hit Becca square in the heart. How? Why? She had been hearing stories of mutants turning up younger than they actually were, but how could she connect that to Agnes? How did your heart justify seeing a memory again?

”Oh. Oh wow. This is… wow.” Not a lot made Rebecca Grey speechless these days. This came very close. ”Aggie… Agnes. Jasmine, what… happened tae her?” If she was hoping for details from Agnes’s other ex, she was likely barking up the wrong tree, but she was still stuck failing to process what was sitting there in Jasmine’s car.

Agnes sat in the air, staring at the mansion and the strange redhead that came out through the front doors. Was she a new teacher? She stared at her through the car window, observing her as if she were looking at a complete stranger. Her gaze kept shifting between Jasmine and, she guessed ‘Becca’, trying to gain some idea of what was going on. Becca looked shocked, an expression that made the insect queen uneasy. But she couldn’t stay in the car forever so she grabbed the handle and pushed it open.

Jasmine, meanwhile, was standing outside and greeted Becca with a curt smile. It had been ages since Agnes cheated on her with Becca but there was still a sore spot there that made her just a tad uncomfortable around the redhead. Still, this was an emergency and if there was anyone who knew what was going on, it was her.

After waiting for Becca to finish freaking out over the reappearance of her suddenly teenaged girlfriend, Jasmine spoke up. “I have…no idea,” she said earnestly. It was clear from her voice that she wanted to panic a little but she kept herself together. “She text me out of the blue a couple hours ago and...this is what I found.”

”Hey,” Agnes said as she closed the door behind her. She looked miffed at Jasmine. ”I’m a ‘this’ now?”

“I...I didn’t mean it like that,” Jasmine said. She turned looked apologetic to Agnes before looking to Becca. “I just have no idea what to do. I don’t recognize anyone on her contact list except for you.” She blushed briefly at the name that had been assigned to Becca hand handed the phone for her to see. “I assumed you both were still...you know…”

Agnes rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Her outfit bunched horribly loose upon her frame. It certainly looked as if it were made for someone with a bigger bust size than her own, but there were no clothes to change into. Still, she did her best to hold the lapels closed, especially in front of a complete stranger. She really wanted answers now and looked at the newcomer.

”I’m sorry Miss...Becca, was it?” she said to the redhead. ”I really don’t know what’s going on. Are either Gina or Emerald home? Maybe Mama T?” She asked. She could always trust her sisters. The emotions welled up in her eyes, one hand covering her mouth as she looked at a Jasmine she didn’t recognize. ”I just want some answers.”

Jasmine frowned, reaching over and gently touching Agnes on the shoulder. In the past this would have calmed her immensely, but in this moment it actually put her on edge. Stiffening at the touch, Agnes bore it for a second before she stepped slightly away from her apparent ex.

Her crystalline eyes looked up at the redhead, familiarity completely gone and replaced with the cautiousness that presents itself when greeting a stranger for the first time. What was this world? Was she in the future? Did she time travel without realizing it? God, she just wanted to go home.

Jasmine took a deep breath, clearly at a loss before her gaze swept over to Becca again. “Can you help her?”

After the Hive Queen melded with Agnes’s personality, the thought of crossing paths with Agnes again was an anxious one. She could handle herself, she was finally sure, but she still worried what the temptress might do if her former thrall failed to play nice.

Whether or not she was prepared for a reunion like that, nothing prepared her for this. Rebecca did not even question if this Agnes was one with the vicious Hive Queen, because this was the Agnes that helped Rebecca get over her homesickness. Rebecca’s life was filled with many firsts, and many of them involved holding those delicate hands or staring into those striking blue eyes.

It was only when Jasmine replied to Becca’s stammering that she could get herself back out of her memories and into the here and now. Agnes was a teenager, and Jasmine had no clue why or how. That shook a memory out of the foggy mess in Becca’s head, because she did have an idea of what might have happened.

No one new the cause, but there were dozens of reports across New York of people, mostly mutants, waking up years younger without the memories they had collected in the time they lost. Unless this was the least likely coincidence ever, that might have been what happened to Agnes. ”We… havenae been in o’er a year, actually. Bit… weel, Ah’m still glad ye brought her, Jasmine. Ah know thes cannae be easy.” The call she received from her ex or the need to reach out to her ex’s ex. Jasmine did not have to do that, but she was always more selfless than Becca had been.

Agnes chimed in, showing the confusion Becca expected if this had to do with the de-aging incidents. A pit in her stomach formed as something else became clear to her: whatever exact age Agnes was now, it pre-dated Becca’s arrival to America. She reached out to Jasmine, not Rebecca, so maybe she was seventeen or eighteen, when they were dating. Becca was not even familiar to Agnes; to this Agnes, she was a stranger.

That hurt, but what hurt more was wondering if, in the grand scheme of things, Agnes was better off for it.

With her antennae twitching, Becca forced a smile. ”Ah can try,” she offered to Jasmine before turning back to Agnes. ”Unfortunately, much ay th’ staff is away fer th’ holidays ur busy. But we’ve heard ay people de-agin’ in th’ city, an’ Ah think that may hae happened tae ye, Agnes.”

Steeling her nerve with a deep breath, Becca continued. ”Ah’m nae sure whit aw Jasmine said, bit Ah’ve known ye since ye were eighteen—specifically in th’ Winter ay Twenty-Eleven.” Likely a time Agnes thought to be in her personal future. ”If ye’d be okay wi’ it, maybe we can gae inside th’ Mansion t’ my office an’ we can try tae piece thes taygether fer ye?”

Jasmine had said very little since she picked her up. She had tried to talk to her, tried to figure out what had happened, but aside from a few basic questions, she gave her absolutely no answers as to what had occurred. All she kept mumbling about was being unsure how to help her until she had asked for her phone. Then all she could get from her was that Becca would be the one to help. Becca would know what to do. But the first time she said that name, Agnes would only respond with a simple, ”Who?”.

That response alone earned the oddest of looks from Jasmine, to which she then completely clammed up and sent off her text message. And now they were here, with this stranger, in her familiar home, but with no recollection of what had happened. As they went back and forth, she tried to step in, inquiring if either of her sisters or the school’s sweet guidance counselor were available. Surely she’d recognize them.

But it seemed to not be the case. Most of the staff and students were away for the holiday which made things all the more complicated. Agnes could feel her panic swelling in her chest, which was quickly followed by threatening buzz from the insects within. De-aging? What did that even mean? What was happening in this city now?

She gulped. ”So...I didn’t travel through time?” The thought crossed her mind. What else was she supposed to think? Her memories were hers and her body felt like hers, but what she was saying sounded like she went through a transformation of sorts. That didn’t make any sense though. She still felt like her!

Becca tried to keep talking. Saying that she knew her since the winter of 2011, but Agnes slowly shook her head. 2011, to her mind, was nearly over. Her birthday had just passed! She had an amazing date with Jasmine. Gina and her were still fangirling about it. But now here was this woman saying it was almost a decade past that point that the rest of the world aged without her. Or rather, the clock was turned back ONLY on her.

It was...confusing...to say the least.

Now Becca wanted to take her back to her office so that they could chat and try to piece the time back together. She ground her teeth, the buzzing becoming more and more ominous as she looked between the redhead and Jasmine. Though she barely recognized Jasmine as an older woman, she still slinked closer to her, reaching over to grab her arm protectively.

Jasmine, meanwhile, just smiled a bit sadly. She gestured for Becca to wait and turned around to look back at Agnes. “Honey. I think you need to go with her.”

Agnes started to shake her head, expression full of concern. ”I...don’t know her. I don’t know what is happening…” a few flies and wasps began to circle.

Reaching over, she carefully cupped her cheek and smiled. “She’ll help you. I promise. You remember that date we had? You asked me to trust you? Do you trust me?”

Immediately her mind reeled, taking her back to that magical night. The dinner, the ferris wheel, the dancing and the music. It was just all so perfect. Sure enough, when Jasmine had related her fears about them dating, Agnes asked her to trust her. And now she was asking for the same in return. She was scared, evident by the tears welling in her eyes, but she nodded her head. She would always trust Jasmine.

Jasmine smiled softly, momentarily thrown back to that moment when they were two teenagers out on their first day. She felt that pang deep in her heart and then glanced at Becca. She and Agnes had dated far longer, to the point that she could only imagine how the Scot was feeling. Still she said nothing of this and instead merely turned back to Agnes, pulled her in and gave her a tight hug.

“You know the mansion, sweetie. They’ll help you,” she said softly into her hair. “I promise that they’ll help you.”

Tears flowed freely down Agnes’ cheek. She buried her face into Jasmine’s hair, trying to memorize the scent of her shampoo, her perfume, and honey that filled the air. She tried to make the hug last as long as she could but eventually Jasmine broke away and made for her car. Agnes stood there, in her slightly oversized outfit, hugging the lapels closed and watching the grown version of the woman she cared for so deeply slip into the car. She didn’t hear Jasmine asking Becca for updates before she slipped in and closed the door behind her.

Now Agnes stood there, her back to this stranger, watching as the Jasmine drove away. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair! But she said nothing of it, and instead just hugged herself, futilely wiping tear after tear away from her cheek. When the last fell, she hung her head and glanced suspiciously to the redhead who claimed to know her, before she pulled her eyes away and stared at the ground.

”Well?” she asked, trying to take a steady breath. ”Are we going to your office or not?” It was a sharp tone, the kind that came from a survivalist. Her last good memory now driving away and with none waiting for her inside, she instinctively moved into self-preservation mode. She didn’t know what Becca would have to say but Agnes would be sure to stay on her guard. She rarely trusted strangers and this one, however pretty, was no exception.

The reasonable mind of Rebecca understood why Agnes was apprehensive about coming with her. To Agnes, the redhead was a stranger, while Jasmine was a woman she had met and fallen for. Jasmine was her last tether to something familiar, so would she not cling? It was why she asked for Gina and Emerald, (which was going to be hard to explain.) Logically, it was understandable, but there was still a pang in Becca’s heart to see distrust in those blue eyes as her insects grew potentially hostile.

Still, at least Jasmine was able to earn her trust and convince Agnes to go along with Rebecca. At the very least, she did have her role as a Mansion teacher to give her validity, even if Agnes had no reason to personally trust her.

Jasmine drove off and Rebecca watched, wondering if she should have kept Jasmine around. That was not fair though; Jasmine had her own life to lead now, and this could not be easy for her in the same way Rebecca still struggled with it. She waited until Agnes cut at her, accepting what happened now. ”Aye, to my office then. We’ll help ye figure it whit ye need tae know, Agnes. Come aloong.”

Leading Agnes back out of the cold and into the Mansion, Rebecca loosened and removed her scarf and wondered how exactly she was supposed to ease Agnes into the current day and age. ”Sae aff th’ bat, Ah’m sorry, bit the X-Men and th’ police havenae figured it whit’s causin’ this.” The problem was becoming a top priority, as no one liked an unexpected, unexplainable wave of incidents systematically ruining people’s lives. Marriages ending, career experience lost.

”Sae ye were twenty-six, and Ah know that sounds mad.” In Agnes’s shoes, Becca would be terrified; this whole world of mutant insanity had not become a part of her life until just before her nineteenth birthday. ”We’ve been able tae figure it that this, whatever it is, brings someain’s body back and mind back tae a younger version ay themselves, loch returnin’ tae an imprinted memory in th’ DNA.”

Strolling through the hallways of the Mansion, Becca tried to remember what might have changed over the years. Nothing big; the Mansion stayed consistent in many ways, but surely Agnes might feel the slight sense of minute details being wrong from her last walk through the Mansion. ”As Jasmine michta said, Ah knew ye pretty well for several years.” She chose to keep that vague for now; it felt safer. ”Ah’ll leave it up tae ye hoo much ay that part ay yer life ye’d want tae know.” If this was permanent, or even if it was temporary, would it matter? Maybe knowing more would help bring the older Agnes back. Would that… was that even better?

”Ain thing we’ve also noticed… any evolutions ay yer mutation should hae stayed wi’ ye. It’s th’ one thing that disnae revert. Ye micht notice… there are new insects livin’ in ye. Nae sure if ye noticed, but… they’re in yer arms and legs.” Knowing about her future personal life was an option, but Becca could not have a mutant teen running around with a power she did not understand.

Which made her think of another conversation she still worried about having in the near future…

She didn’t mean to sound snappy towards the woman but she was admittedly in a bit of a personal mess at the moment. The girl she had just started seeing was apparently now married and happy and the place she had been calling home for the last year or so now seemed occupied with strangers again. And those people whom she was steadily learning to trust? Apparently gone and moved on with their lives.

And all she was left with was a redheaded Scottish teacher whom she could barely understand. Yeah, she definitely wanted to cry.

But at least they were moving now. Though her comment may have cut, it seemed to spur Ms. Grey on and the two walked towards the building. Agnes recognized it...but at the same time she didn’t. As they began to walk through the halls, Becca started to explain what both the city and the X-Men knew about what was happening in the city. People, without warning, were being de-aged, reverted back to a younger version of themselves with no explanation.

Becca confirmed that Agnes was such a victim, actually being a 26 year old woman from when she knew her. That’s right, apparently the two of them were already supposed to know one another. At this, Agnes merely stared at the redhead blankly before her sapphire eyes turned way, looking across the walls and knick-knacks that had so subtle changed from what she remembered.

”Jasmine didn’t say much about you,” she said, wiping the last of the wetness from her eyes. ”Just that you and I knew each other and I could trust you. Said it wasn’t her place to say more than that.”

She shrugged her shoulders. In all fairness at this point Agnes thought Jasmine was lying. Could have just been Jasmine’s attempt at trying to force trust between her and this teacher. How could she know the difference? But, deep down, she knew Jasmine wasn’t that way. She was nice, she was sweet, at least when the insect queen knew her. It seemed highly unlikely that would change.

Her head lifted once more when the redhead further explain that any change to her mutation would like have stayed, even after de-aging. She pressed after how Agnes felt about her arms and legs. Confused, she lifted one arm and spied the very subtle, practically invisible seam that ran up her forearm. Curiously she poked it and, from within, there came a crawling.

Agnes was used to insects living in her body so she didn’t scream or retch. Rather she just stopped walking and stared as a massive Amazonian centipede crawled out and circled around her arm. Her finger reached out, stroking the top of the creature’s head, listening to it chitter happily. Eyes darting back to Becca, she stared for several seconds before she spoke up.

”How much do you know about me?”

Jasmine did not go into the details of how Becca knew Agnes and honestly, that was fair. Rebecca herself still had no clue how much she should share of her connection to the young woman. How would Rebecca have felt if she woke up in the future and someone told her they loved each other madly for years? Intimidated? Freaked out? At least Agnes was already out and proud by this age, because eighteen-year-old Becca might have retreated into the closet.

Agnes examined her arm and Rebecca braced herself, knowing what would come next. She was… well, it took time to adjust to the centipedes, but did you ever really adjust to massive centipedes? Still, she kept her expression neutral and watched as her accurate information regarding Agnes’s mutation gave some credibility to the redhead.

The next question earned a sigh, because what was the right answer here? There was no rulebook for filling in your de-aged ex-girlfriend on the eight years she missed. ”A lot. Ah was aroond fer most ay those years. Two years for grad school and noo thes past year.”

Opening the door to the office, Rebecca levitated her keys away from herself, leaving them on the small table next to the door. She walked around her desk and took a seat where she could boot up the computer. There was a chair for Agnes to sit in across from Rebecca if she wished, but until then, the teacher figured it might help to have access to the internet, depending on Agnes’s questions.

And they would be her questions. ”It’s up tae ye hoo ye’d like t’ know abit th’ live ye led since eighteen an’ where things are noo. Ah’ll answer honestly. School, family, career, relationships.” She tried not to give away anything with the topics, particularly that last one. ”Whitever ye want tae know. We… dinnae know if thes is permanent or nae, Aggie, sae it may nae matter t’ know any ay that, ur maybe knowin’ can help bring back th’ lost time. It’s up to you if ye want tae know abit th’ time ye lost.”

It was still a lot to process but as she looked down at the centipede that was curled around her arm, she had to admit that this woman clearly had some knowledge about her that she lacked. That was upsetting, to have a complete stranger tell you things about yourself that you were never aware of. No wonder she felt like her life was in a tailspin. But she kept her brave face on and merely watched her with curiosity as she stated that she had been around for a number of years.

Where they like friends or something?

Agnes said nothing more of this and instead just followed the redhead into her office, watching as a ring of keys magically levitated themselves into a nearby dish. She watched in awe, always surprised by the mutants gathered in this place. However she didn’t show too much of her surprise and instead remained muted as she stepped in, keeping near the door and, for the moment, refusing a seat.

Being partially on edge, she didn’t feel right getting too comfortable in the room. After her the years she spent on the streets, she knew better than to let her guard down too easy. Her walls would remain up, at least until she found a familiar face of some kind.

The questions were to be hers. That made her feel marginally better, like she had control of some kind. She gulped and took a steady breath. God, where would she even begin?

God. The word made her blood run cold. Instinctively she reached for her side and the huge, hideous scar she had grown used to being there. Only when she touched the spot, it felt healed and soft under her jacket. Lifting it up, she craned her head downward, running her fingers along the soft, supple skin of her taut stomach. No scars. That didn’t make sense. If she had been turned back to her age of 18, wouldn’t the scars be there?

She eyed Becca. ”I had...scars. A lot of them. Are they...gone?” She couldn’t even feel the ones on her back. ”My...My parents. They gave them to me. What about them? Have they...been in my life again?”

There were so many directions Agnes could take the conversation, but this one made the most sense. This was Agnes at eighteen, and much of the closure she got regarding her family came after this. This was also before Agnes's meeting with Sabastian that healed her scars, which... honestly, that made Becca happy in a weird way. Finding out about Sebastian was not a highlight of their relationship, so if that memory left Agnes along with the years of memories of Becca, at least that could be one small relief.

"Ye did hae scars," she confirmed. "Bit ye met a mutant with a strang healin' power. He healed yer scars tryin' tae gie somethin' frae ye. He... wisnae guid, but healin' ye was." It was hard to outright hate Sebastian; yes, he attempted to bring Becca's girlfriend into a Doomsday cult, but he also healed her of the scars that always seemed to keep the traumas of her childhood fresh.

And then the reason she had those scars... "Yer parents... ur in prison. Sae is malachi. We saw tae 'at." Almost at the cost of their lives, as she recalled in the vivid memory from Agnes's childhood home. "Their church still operates sadly, but it's fractured an' nae nearly as strang as it ance was. We keep contact wi' federal organizations lookin' tae snuff it cells still it there." It was hard to kill off a group completely; there were always stragglers who refused to give up and move on. All Becca knew was she'd sleep better the day not a trace of that hateful church remained.

It was odd hearing details from your life from someone that wasn’t you. When Agnes first walked away with those scars, she honestly thought that they would be horrible reminders that would follow her the rest of her days. She remembered, whether in the mansion or in the streets, she would lie back in her sleep, hand protectively covering the largest of those scars, idly tracing the pattern. She grew familiar with it because she expected it to always be there.

But here she was, in a reality where, just like that, it was gone. She couldn’t even remember it, or any of them, being taken away. That was what was feeding the idea that all this was too surreal to be, well, real.

Settled deeply into her expression of silence, Agnes listened to Ms. Grey. Apparently someone had healed her of her scars, though they weren’t all that nice of a person. That was confusing as Agnes never let anyone get that close to her, let alone someone that she didn’t trust. Why would she have allowed them?

Before she could ask, however, Becca moved on to the more pressing issue: her parents. Both of them were monsters. Zealots who believed that all mutants were demons and betrayed her to such a degree, they may as well have killed her. All of this in the name of God. It sickened Agnes, especially because she had to live through it. But what of them? Last she remembered they were still running around free, hidden away from the world.

Had they come after her again in all this time?

There was a breath of relief. Never did she think she would be so happy to hear that someone was in jail. Not only one of them, but both of them. And Malachi? Just hearing that name put a shiver in her spine. To know that he, one of their most loyal and brainwashed, was also safely tucked away was heaven to hear. It also confirmed that Ms. Grey was more than just a stranger. Few knew about Malachi, if she did, then they certainly must have known one another.

But how? Those were questions she wanted answers to, but maybe not just yet. She would play this back-and-forth a little more cooly, and instead opted for a more mundane subject.

”Did I finish school?” she asked softly. Her mind still wheeled on hearing about her parents but she needed the conversation to continue. ”What did I end up doing with my life?” She had always loved music but figured that life would be too far away for her to attain. If she managed to get healed, did she achieve her dreams as well?

Becca could see the relief on Agnes’s face at the news of her parents, Malachi, and the cult. It was a dark chapter of her life that found ways to harass and wound her years after her abusive childhood. It hurt the redhead deeply just thinking about how Agnes was mistreated by people who should have loved her without question. People misusing the name of God for their own hateful agendas and left lasting damage on people who did not deserve it. It was that revelation that pushed Becca to become an X-Man.

And with parents out of the way and some semblance of normalcy to grow in, Agnes flourished. Becca thought about Agnes’s career path when the teen asked. ”Weel, ye went tae Juliard and yes, ye finished. Frae there, Ah wasnae aroond for a while, bit ye joined a travelin’ orchestra. That was til ye earned yer spot with th’ New York Philharmonic.” Becca smiled warmly, remembering the performance she got to attend. ”And ye were stellar, for the record.”

From there, the picture got less peppy and Becca had to decide how much Agnes would really want to know. ”Ye stepped doon when issues arose wi' yer mutation. Ye worked at a flower shop again for a while tae slow things doon, but beyond 'at, Ah wasnae aroond sadly.” That was the truth; after the shop, Becca was not around, but she did know what came next. Still, that Agnes was also the Hive Queen, and they were so different together. Would shy teenage Agnes really want to know about her sudden pivot into the life of a dominatrix? Becca chose to keep that to herself for now.

There were still questions that poked at her about this woman, this stranger that she didn’t recognize. She said she knew a fair bit about the time that she was missing but, sure enough, she dropped was names and instances that no one else should have known. But it was still hard to swallow. Exactly who was she to her? Why did the professor know so much? Agnes never thought these were things she would tell to anyone.

But she didn’t want to spare too much thought on it at the moment. Rather she wanted to test the water, see how much she had apparently accomplished in her life. She didn’t have much hope for herself until recently (to her memory), so it piqued her interest to know what she had been able to do. What the professor said was...surprisingly.

Julliard. An orchestra. Even the Philharmonic. It was absolutely everything that she could have dreamed of. Her hands cupped over her mouth, holding her smile hidden in the shadows as she tried to keep herself in check. She had done. Despite everything, she had actually done it. But...Becca had to keep talking. She stopped, gulped, her eyes misting as she turned to look at her.

She stepped down. She left the orchestra for some reason because of her powers and worked in a flower shop the last that Becca had seen her. That was...utterly disappointing. The whole reason she had agreed to stay at this school was because she had been promised she would find some kind of control. What could have possibly taken that away from her?

Her heart sank, deep in her chest, and she felt a pang of anger and jealousy. Life was cruel. Only the malevolence of existence would allow her to achieve her dreams and then snatch it away from her. Even if she had only exited them temporarily before, they wouldn’t accept her now. She was a teenager again, by the looks of it. She couldn’t even remember her years of education after 18!

With shaky knees she slipped into her seat and hung her head. ”Of course,” she said mournfully. ”Of course I can’t keep what I want.”

Her eyes misted again, her hate for the life she had been dealt growing all the more. First Jasmine...then her schooling...now the career of her dreams? What else had been taken away from her? Her jaw clenched as she tried to keep her anger calmed. The buzzing filled her ears and insects began to respond, wanting to seek out whomever was making her feel this way. But it wasn’t that easy. It never was.

She gulped before her eyes settled on the redheaded professor again. ”Obviously I wasn’t with Jasmine anymore…” she sniffled, wiping her eyes. ”...so, let me guess, there’s no significant other worried sick and wondering where I am right now either, is there?”

Bitterly she stared at the professor. This was turning into the shittest day she could imagine. After all, what’s crueler? Having nothing? Or having something only to have it taken away?

Finding out about her success filled Agnes with an overwhelming sense of pride. Becca could not blame her; she had been accomplished at a young age. She also could not blame what came next. Finding out she stepped down from the Philharmonic was a crushing blow. Becca had half a mind to withhold that part, but it felt too dishonest. Agnes would be able to look it up on her own, and she deserved to know.

Rebecca wanted to give her comfort here, and knew how she wanted to, but before she could, the conversation shifted. Unfortunately for the teacher, it shifted somewhere she was not looking forward to going. Sadly, they were always going to have to talk about Agnes’s relationships.

Rebecca took a deep breath, then sighed because how did she tackle this? ”Nae right noo, though if ye did, ye’d nae remember them, and that micht crush them.” She said from experience.

There was more to say, but Agnes had to decide what she wanted to know. ”There were women in your life between your then and mah noo. Bit… Ah’m nae sure hoo fair it is tae sae mair without askin’ if ye want tae hear it. Ain ay them… well, was me.”

It hurt to hear this. It hurt to hear all of it. But it was particularly hard to hear that she had willingly given up everything she worked towards because her mutation reached levels she couldn’t control. What was even worse was knowing that everything was also now void because she was forcefully shifted back to a younger version of her herself while the rest of the world marched on.

She may as well have been black bagged and ditched in some random, foreign country with nothing on her but the clothes on her back. And, even then, she couldn’t help just how naked she felt right now. The Urge to scream, to rant, to accuse this woman of lying was...hard to ignore. But she stifled it, internalizing all her bitterness and disappointment and pressed on. How much worse could the news get?

Really, the way she said it could have been taken as more of an off-handed, rhetorical question than one she really wanted an answer to. But there was enough curiosity there that she had to ask, even if it was laced it annoyance. Was anyone waiting for her? Deep in her heart, there was the smallest bit of hope that someone was there, but the look on the professor’s face said it all.

Even before Ms. Gray spoke, she closed her eyes, shaking her head and stared at the ground. What in the living hell? It truly felt like she had died and was in some nightmarish landscape she couldn’t make heads or tails of. Maybe this was hell, or purgatory, or some other in-between that was built to torture her. Wouldn’t that be the way…

But, Ms. Gray continued, stating that Agnes had her own string of relationships, some of which she knew, others that she didn’t But what was most surprising were the woman’s last words: she was one of them.

Agnes raised her eyes, slowly, as the words sank deeper into her brain, settling into spot of confusion and uncertainty. She looked upon the redhead’s face, as if trying to pull a lie from there but, everything in the professor’s eyes showed she was telling the truth.

Her expression was unreadable but she stared hard at the professor before speaking. ”W-What? H...How? Why?!” she asked. For as...offended as she sounded, she was essentially giving the redhead permission to continue. After all, you can’t make a revelation like that and just stop.