London Rain (Nothing Heals Me Like You Do)

by Dyce


Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, except Joanna, and 'London Rain' was sung by Heather Nova. It's a pretty song, go listen to it. And yes, I know I'm compressing time a lot here, but I'm trying to keep the story down to manageable length. Yes, I know this bit's long, I'm having *trouble* keeping it down to manageable length. <*g*> Don't complain.

He still wasn't used to it. After more than three years of polite smiles and wheedling voices, of first-class tickets and five star accommodations, of kissing up and currying favour... he still wasn't used to it. Not used to being rich. Not used to, increasingly, being famous. Definitely not used to having his mutancy flaunted like some whizbang publicity handle direct from the Almighty himself.

Because it was, as his chubby, good-natured agent kept telling him, a great publicity angle. The Mute Mutant. The singer without a voice, who had to make his music with his fingers and his guitar. Nothing scary about him, oh no. Not a Big Bad Mutie Monster, just a poor, brave fellow who'd fought to overcome his Terrible Handicap.

Jon Starsmore, as he was now known, still wasn't used to it. It still made him jumpy when people recognized him, or whispered about him when he went out, or when he opened a magazine to see his own face, what was left of it.

Ah, but he wasn't going to think about that. He pulled The Letter out of his pocket, and shuffled the thin sheaf of pages open to the right spot.

((... and anyway, I didn't write just to talk about school. Big news, big guy, so prepare to get happy for me. You know Mark? The guy I've been babbling about for months? Well... we're getting married! (a sketch of a little smiling face surrounded by hearts) I know I can count on you not to start with the whole 'but you're so young' thing, even though you're probably thinking it. Believe me, I've already gotten an earful of it. But I love Mark, and he loves me, and I'm not wasting whatever time we have together just so I can hit the big two-oh before making a commitment.

So, anyway, you're invited, of course. Guest of honour. You will come, won't you? (a little kitten with impossibly huge eyes) I just couldn't have a life-event this big without you there...))

The corners of his eyes crinkled fondly. ((Well of course I'll be there,)) he'd written back. ((Do you really think I'd let you get married without me getting a chance to check this bloke out?)) And here he was, in the understatedly lavish limo he'd had arranged, ready to drive the bride to her wedding. Thanks to a flight cancelled at the last minute, he'd not had the time to see her beforehand, or in fact to do anything but hurry into his tux at the airport and drive straight over. But he'd made it... not that he'd doubted he would. Jubilee, he knew with confident certainty, would if necessary have held up the entire wedding until he arrived.

They pulled up in front of The Mansion (as if there weren't any others in the world!), and he scrambled out in undignified haste. Who cared? Alicea was the only one there to see him, and she'd not comment if he stripped naked and danced on the roof in a snowstorm. That was one of the things he liked about her. Certainly it was the contributing reason to why he was still seeing her.

"JON!!!!" A slender, white-clad figure hurtled down the steps and flung itself into his arms with joyful abandon. He hugged her tightly, heedless of her dress for the moment, and savoured the familiar rush of joy and contentment that filled his heart. "Jon, you made it!"

<*Well o'course I did,*> he teased gently. <*Weddings make you females all sentimental and vulnerable to me incredible charms, doncha know. Wouldn't miss out on a chance to pick up a few more lovelies for me 'arem, would I?*>

Jubilee giggled, hugging him one more time before she let go, and stood back so he could see her properly. "So, what do you think?" she asked shyly.

He eyed her up and down. Unadorned blue-white satin, taking its beauty from the deceptively simple cut and the way it brought out the golden rose of her skin. She had baby's breath in her jet-black hair, and... she looked older. Time had narrowed the baby-round cheeks to show hints of her high cheekbones and delicate jaw, the small face almost overpowered by her large, long-lashed eyes. <*You look more beautiful than ever, luv, and that's sayin' a great deal,*> he said with a smile in his voice, reaching out to touch her cheek lightly. <*Never in my life seen a prettier bride.*>

"Really?" She gave him that old, sparkling gamine grin, and ruffled his hair impudently. "YOU look just the same as ever... only better dressed."

Jon brushed imaginary dust off his old-fashioned tail-coat. <*Go ahead and laugh, I know 'ow good I look in this getup.*> Alicea climbed out of the car, and he reached out automatically to help her. <*Alicea, this is Jubilee, me nearest and dearest friend in the world. Jubilee, this is me lady of choice, Alicea.*>

Alicea smiled her perfect smile, brushed her perfect mane of red hair back from her perfect face, and held out a delicately perfect hand to the younger woman. "Charmed," she said politely, actually sounding sincere. "I must say, your dress is lovely."

"So's yours." Jubilee admired the perfectly cut blue silk. "Wish I could wear stuff like that." A polite fiction... such a dress required a lushly curved body and only enough muscle-tone to hold everything up. Jubilee had long ago (with Jon's fond encouragement), realized that her own slender, muscled form was easier to carry around and looked better in the kinds of clothes she liked best anyway.

Alicea accepted the compliment, however, and smiled again. She did not, as her predecessor Carline would have, lay a possessive hand on Jon's arm. Theirs was an association of convenience, nothing more. She was in no position to threaten an old friend's status, and nor was the soon-to-be-married friend threatening hers. The practical acceptance of the realities of their 'relationship' was the real reason Jon had kept her around for as long as he had. He'd long ago given up on finding love. Charm, moderately interesting conversation, and skill in bed were all the criteria he chose to use.

<*Come on,*> he said now, offering each lady an arm. <*It's been too long since I saw everyone, and I'm looking forward to a few reunions.*> His eyes acquired a wry glint. <*Some more than others.*>

A few hours and a ceremony later, he was leaning against a wall with a plate balanced on one hand and Alicea's drink in the other. Alicea was dancing, smiling, and generally being politely charming to everyone. Jon split his attention between watching the dancers and listening to Angelo, who was chatting amiably and using Jon as a tuxedoed plate-stand. "What do you think of this Mark guy?" he asked, swallowing a mouthful of champagne and making a face. "Ugh. Never did like this stuff."

<*'e seems all right...*> Jon said cautiously, watching as the short, muscular asian man whirled his new bride around the floor.

"Yeah..." Angelo gave him an exaggeratedly suspicious look. "But we're gonna have to watch him carefully."

<*Yeh,*> Jono agreed solemnly. <*He could be a Hydra agent infiltrating our midst.*>

"Or some AIM flunky trying to get at all the Shi'Ar equipment around here."

<*Or a member of the Hand, out for revenge on Wolverine.*>

"He could be an agent of ANY of Wolverine's enemies."

<*He could be related to Psylocke!*>

Angelo gasped, pressing a hand melodramatically to his cheek. "He could even be... it's just possible... a *future politician*!!"

<*Now *that's* just sick,*> Jono admonished, snickering. <*But we'd better watch him.*>

"Yeah. Like hawks." Angelo hunched his shoulders, dropped his head between them, and glared menacingly at the subject of their conversation.

<*That looks more like a vulture t' me, mate.*>

"So? It's a bird, isn't it? Don't nitpick."

* * *

Jubilee pried her eyes open. White sheets... pale blue hospital blankets... flowers beside the bed... She smiled, reaching out to touch the delicate blossoms. Even without reading the cards, she knew who each bunch was from. The pink roses from her husband, spidery chrysanthemums from Angelo, wildflowers from Logan, and... yes... the leggy irises had to be from Jon. He always sent tall flowers... tall flowers for a short flower, he always said, and drew a little smile on the card.

<*You awake, luv?*> A gentle hand rested on her foot, and she looked down the length of the bed to smile at the tall, black-clad figure.

"Kinda..." she yawned, and stretched her arms out. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Wales."

<*I was.*> He patted her foot gently, then pushed it over so he could sit on the edge of the bed. <*Flew here last night.*> Indeed, there were dark rings under his eyes, his clothes were rumpled, and his hair was a little more ruffled than usual.

"You flew? All the way here?" Jubilee's throat tightened, but she fought down the too-ready tears. "You didn't have to do that..."

<*Wouldn't miss it, luv,*> he said gently. <*Besides, you promised me, remember? I got a stake in this one.*>

Jubilee nodded, sitting up. With an almost frightened tenderness, she reached into the small crib beside her and lifted out a tiny, pink-wrapped bundle with a scrunched red face. "Look what I did," she whispered softly, proudly, nestling the baby in her arms. "I made a person..."

Jono smiled. The newly-crafted psionic illusion of his lower face was still a little awkward, and the smile didn't look quite right, but his brown eyes were soft and warm as he reached out to touch the baby's tiny cheek. <*'Ello, luv,*> he said gently. The baby opened one eye drowsily, and then closed it again. Jono chuckled silently. <*Don't think I impressed 'er much.*>

Jubilee smiled. "Hey, Jo," she remonstrated. "This guy's your godfather-to-be." The baby ignored her, and she chuckled softly. "Jon, this impertinent little miss is Joanna. Your goddaughter."

<*Can I 'old her?*> The baby was settled in his arms, and he smiled down at her. She looked startlingly like her mother had at thirteen, with peachy round cheeks and short fluffy black hair. <*Hey, Joanie...*> he whispered, his eyes suddenly feeling a little hot. <*I'm yer uncle Jonny. Yer godfather. See, I can't have any kids of my own, so yer mum and dad are kinda sharing you with me.*>

Joanna burbled softly, and they both smiled. "It's for me as well as for you," Jubilee said softly, reaching out to touch her daughter's fuzzy little head. "I don't.... If anything ever happens to me and Mark, I don't want her to get left all alone the way I was."

Jon nodded, reaching out to loop a long arm around Jubilee's shoulder. <*I'll look after her,*> he promised gravely. <*I swear, Jubilee, she'll want for nothing. Not love, not a home... nothing.*> He grinned. It looked a bit better this time. <*Nor pots of money, neither...*>

Jubilee chuckled a bit damply. "Well, yeah, there's that too. Reliable, rich, complete mook... good godparent qualities."

Jon nodded, reluctantly settling the baby back in her arms. <*Should bugger off an' let you and Mark bond, 'en.*> He brushed his fingertips over her forehead in a light 'kiss'. <*Take care, luv.*>

* * *

People were often surprised to find that Jon had a phone. Why would a mute person have a phone? He was, after all, unable to speak aloud. What could he do, tap out little morse-code messages? Was it some sort of look-how-normal-I-am prop? When asked, Jon invariably rolled his eyes and pointed at the answering machine. He had a phone for the same reason most people had a non-mobile phone - to take his messages.

On this particular afternoon, he'd checked the machine to find a coaxing message from his agent, a cheerful one from a financial advisor, and an aggressive one from his current liason, who wanted to know what they were doing tonight. Jon shrugged, making a mental note to e-mail his agent and get rid of the girl, and went through his mail. Bill...bill...fan letter... bill... postcard... letter from Jubilee! Not that there was anything unusual about that, he'd gotten a letter from Jubilee every two or three days for the last four years, but... He flexed the envelope, and beamed. Yes! There were photos in this one! Pictures of the baaaabyyy, pictures of the baaaabyyy... there was a bit of jaunt in his step as he dropped his coat on a chair and made his way to the most comfortable couch in his roomy and well-furnished apartment to tear his way into The Envelope.

The pictures were all he could hope for and more... in other words, they were ten different angles on the same fluffy-haired baby with peachy skin and a huge smile. Jono admired them for some time, and indulged himself in a bit of gushing and cooing since there was no-one around to hear him. She was so cute! That gummy smile! Those huge hazel eyes! The letter, on the other hand, was a bit disappointing... short and listless, without the witty sparkle they usually had. Still, a six-month-old baby had to be trying at best, no matter how cute and cuddly she looked in a silent and undemanding picture. Jon resolved to send her something nice as soon as possible... like maybe a diaper service. Or a nanny. Yeah. Someone to give her and whatzisname... Mark... some peace.

Awash in happy plans and warm fuzzy baby-feelings, Jono puttered away the evening and indulged himself in a decidedly un-tortured-musician-like early night.

At about three in the morning, the phone woke him up.

Muttering silent imprecations, he dragged himself out into the hall to hear the message. There weren't all that many people who had this number, and it was either his almost-former girlfriend, or it was important. Either way, he was awake and he might as well find out why, if only for later shouting purposes.

"Jon?" It was Jubilee.

She sounded like she was crying.

"Jon, I'm at your apartment in LA. You l-left me a key, remember? Jo's here too. I... I left Mark. I know it's a lot to ask, but can you come here? Please? I really, really need you right now... Jo's crying, I gotta go. Please be here soon... "

Jon listened to the message all the way to the end. Then he rewound the tape, and listened to it again. Then he carefully got dressed, collected his wallet and his keys, left a message on the hall table and in his agent's inbox, and made an only marginally suicidal dash for the airport.

The good thing about having money was that there was always a first-class seat available at three in the morning, if one could afford it. He could. He took it.

A mere seven hours later, he'd disembarked at LA International, located a cab, and was barrelling up the stairs to his other apartment. He'd bought it a year or so before because, astronomical though the price had been, it was marginally more economical than staying in a hotel every time he wanted to visit. Although he'd given Angelo and Jubilee a spare key each, he'd never really thought they'd need to use them...

<*Jubilee? Luv?*> he called, unlocking the door only to find that the chain was on. <*You here?*>

"Jono?" The chain was hastily unhooked, and the door opened to reveal a decidedly worried and very grey face. "Dios, I'm glad you're here."

<*Is she okay?*> Jono asked quietly, lingering in the short hallway for a moment.

"No." Angelo scowled. "She called me right after she called you. Didn't say much, just that she and Mark had a fight and she rabbited straight here. With Jo."

Jono paused. <*Is it okay for you to be here? I mean-*>

"I called in domestic crisis. Around here, you get those more often than sick days." That alone told Jon a lot. Angelo was proud of his job. Angelo *loved* his job. He'd been known to go to work with broken limbs. And he was here, not working, because of whatever was wrong with Jubilee. Jon didn't wait to talk any more, but followed the waves of misery that filled the apartment to the small bedroom. Jubilee was sitting in the middle of the bed with Joanna in her arms, both of them sobbing dispiritedly as if they'd been crying for a long time.

Jon blinked. <*Jubilee?*> Without even thinking about it he was on the bed and gathering her gently into his arms. <*Oh, luv, what's wrong? It can't be that bad.*>

With a muffled sob, she burrowed her face into his neck, clinging tightly to him. "It's w-worse," she wept. "I c-can't go b-back to him, I can't!"

<*Oh, luv, shhhh...*> he whispered, stroking her back gently. <*It's gonna be okay...*>

Angelo sat down on Jubilee's other side, easing the sobbing baby gently from her arms. "Jon's right, Jubes," he said gently, bouncing Joanna gently against his shoulder. "Everything's gonna be fine. We're here, okay?" He smiled, rubbing the little back as Jo finally settled. "See? Things are already better. Jo's stopped."

For some reason, that prompted a wail and a fresh burst of tears. Jon stroked her hair, Angelo stroked her back, and both men made soothing noises until she calmed down enough to talk. <*What is it, luv? What happened?*>

"It's J-Jo," Jubilee sobbed. "In s-six months she hasn't s-stopped crying for more than an hour. She d-doesn't sleep, she has *no* r-regular feeding pattern, she's had colic... it just never stops, n-never!"

Jon hugged her tightly. <*Why didn't you call us? Call me? I could've done something...*>

"I c-couldn't," she sniffled. "M-Mark doesn't like it. He wanted us to make it by ourselves, without anyone's help." She bit her lip. "Mark... we didn't plan to have Jo. He didn't want us t-to have a baby yet, and he doesn't get on well with her even wh-when she's not crying, and that's hardly ever. He d-doesn't understand that sh-she's just a baby and she doesn't know not to cry and that shouting at her to b-be quiet just makes her worse." Brown eyes met brown-grey over her head, and both sets of arms tightened around Jubilee and her daughter. "He's j-just not r-ready to be a dad, I guess and..." Jubilee gulped twice to steady her voice. "She screamed and screamed for hours, and he was yelling at her, and I couldn't get her to settle, even for a few minutes..." she took a shuddering breath, reaching out to touch her daughter's little fisted hand. "And he tried to hit her. Not with his fist or anything, it was just a slap... but I've seen those articles, you know? I know what even shaking a baby can do. So I grabbed her, and I told him that if he ever tried to hit her again I'd break his arm."

Anyone looking at Angelo's face would have experienced a sudden and deeply personal belief in the wrath of God, and started looking for an emergency confessional. But Jubilee had her face buried in Jon's chest, and Angelo's voice was very gentle. "What happened then?"

She actually laughed, a little humourless gasp of a laugh. "He swung at her again and I broke his arm. Then I grabbed her diaper bag and came straight here."

Both men blinked. <*You actually did break his arm? While you were holding Jo?*>

She nodded. "Compound fracture too, I think. I was just so mad..."

Jon hugged her tightly, and Angelo leaned over to kiss her cheek gently. "And we're just so proud of you," he said gently. "You protected Jo, and that's all that counts."

<*That's right.*> Jon rested his forehead against hers. <*You can stay here as long as you want, you know that.*>

Jubilee shook her head. "I don't wanna stay here," she said firmly. "I wanna go... anywhere but here. Nothing personal, Ange."

"I know." He smiled at her, taking her hand. "Listen... what are you going to do about Mark?"

She bit her lip. "I... I want a divorce." Her eyes filled again. "B-but I don't know how I'm supposed to get one, or where to get a lawyer, or-"

<*Sh, luv, shhh, it's okay.*> At last, something he could do! <*I can get you a lawyer, a good one, and I'm going to move you to a hotel.*>

Angelo nodded. "I'll nose around," he wrinkled his long nose comically, "and find out what's going on with Mark. While I'm at it, I'll stop by your place and pick up your stuff. I know the things that're important."

Jubilee nodded, reaching out to lay a companionable hand on his arm, and Jon muffled a brief flare of jealousy. Years ago he'd asked his best friend to take care of her, to be there for, and he had... in a way that Jon, half a world a way, could not.

But Jubilee had called him first. Frightened, traumatized and alone, she'd called him first. He held her close for a minute more, tucking her against his chest and cupping the back of her head in one big hand. Beside him, Angelo was soothing Joanna the exact same way.

I love you, the hold said. I won't let anything bad happen to you.

You're safe.

* * *

The divorce was far more effortless than it had any right to be. Mark Hu had no interest in maintaining his marriage, nor in custody of his daughter, Joanna Lee Hu. Nor, fortunately, did he wish to pursue charges against his wife for assault. Barely a year and a half after the wedding, he'd slid out of their lives as easily as he'd slid into it, leaving only relief and a fatherless child in his wake.

Jubilee sighed, leaning her head against the back of the couch and closing her eyes. It was ironic, but Jo hadn't had a major crying spell since they'd left her father. After Jon had had a few telepathic heart-to-hearts with her, she'd calmed down, even started sleeping through most of the night. Not that he'd influenced her telepathically... he just made her feel safe, so she stopped the nervous crying.

Jubilee'd responded much the same way.

Jon had taken care of everything... well, he'd hired people to take care of everything, and spent most of his own time taking care of her and Jo... or Joanie, as he invariably called her. A smooth, professional divorce lawyer had neatly eased everything through, giving Jubilee paper after paper to sign. Jubilee had signed the papers without reading them, struggling with her own guilt and despair. When that was over, she and Angelo had both moved back to Boston. As a skilled computer engineer, Angelo had had no trouble finding a new job... and he'd insisted on doing so. Jubilee and her daughter were his family, he'd said firmly, and he'd go where they did.

Jubilee had a baby to look after and an unfinished degree in child psychology as her only asset. She'd swallowed her pride and gone to Emma Frost for a job. The lecture on maintaining her independence and judging people on character rather than looks had been hard to take, but Emma had given her work as a receptionist and agreed to schedule around the night classes Jubilee needed to finish her degree.

Now she was sitting on the floor of her three room apartment, Jo in her playpen nearby, and going through every single paper she'd put her name on since the whole thing started. Her contract with Emma, her divorce papers, the reviewed pre-nuptial agreement, the settlement, the... Legal Will?

She frowned, picking that one up. She didn't have a will... no, the name at the top was Jon's. She'd signed as a witness, and this one was a copy of the original. She scanned it, got to the fifth paragraph, and nearly swallowed her tongue.

((...being without family or issue, and with the following exceptions, I do leave the entirety of my estate, both money and property, to my god-daughter Joanna Lee Hu. In the event that she is underage at the time of my death, the aforementioned estate will be held in trust by her mother, Jubilation Lee, until the time of Joanna's majority.))

Jubilee's eyes filled slowly with tears. With a few lines of type, Jon had freed her from the single greatest worry a parent could have... that for her child's future. Jo would never have to live on the street the way her mother had, or claw her way up by fair means and foul, as Emma had. Jo was secure.

And she might not have a father, but she had a pair of uncles who'd love and care for her until death and probably beyond. Bitching and making sarcastically witty comments all the while, mind you, but they'd do it.

Jubilee smiled, leaning over to lift her daughter into her lap. "Mommy has rotten taste in men," she whispered, cuddling the soft little body in her arms. "But lucky for you, she has great taste in friends."

Jo, completely unaware of the import of the moment, wrinkled up her face and dirtied her diaper with what her mother considered to be unnecessary enthusiasm.

The End