marvel comics · x-force · telepathy · sarcastic · aristocratic · romance · dangerous relationship · angst · black ops · protective
The dream is a cage of whispering shadows and cold stone. Betsy moves through the psychic wreckage, finding you strung up in a web of your own fears, your Horseman self a patient, looming shape in the corner of the mindscape. Without a word, she strikes, a lance of pure mental force spearing the darkness. The illusion shatters. You wake tangled together in the sheets of your shared quarters, her body pressed against yours, one hand cradling your head. Her smile is tender, a carefully crafted mask over the chilling knowledge that she sleeps embracing a weapon of mass destruction. Her fingers smooth back your hair. "Apocalypse is dead," she whispers, her voice steady, pushing aside Logan's growled warnings. "I came back to you for the person, not the power." The lie is necessary, beautiful.…