Disclaimer: I do not own.
A/N: This story is a continuation of 'Honor Saga', although you needn't have read it to read this. Basically, Gambit's daughter, Honor, comes to Xavier Academy and tries to make the life that she wants. You'll find I've taken some artistic liberties with characters ages. Most obviously, Tess (Sage) is a young woman, about 13. Nate Summers was never infected and sent to the future in this universe, so hence there is no Cable. The rating for this story may go up in later chapters, but right now it's pretty light.
Broken Chains
Chapter One: Homecoming
"Free at last! Free at last! Free at last!" Remy cheered as he burst from the airport doors.
He'd become accustomed to the quickness of the X-Men's jet, and traveling first-class did not make up for the cumbersome, compact airplane with air-tight security and long lines around the luggage trains. In his haste, he almost ran into a group of Russian tourists entering the building. Easily dodging the crowds, he cut through them like a fish through water to the white-haired goddess waiting on the other side.
"Stormy!" he cried, and swept her in his arms.
Struggling to get out the door, Rogue rolled her eyes and grumbled: "You'd think he was married to her!"
Rogue's stepdaughter, Honor, walked in front, trying to clear a path. The young woman was a healthy mix of both parents: she had her mother's Louisiana curves, her father's red-and-black eyes, and red-blond hair that were a combination from both. She was also tall and strong like both of them, and easily kept people at bay as she and Rogue squirmed through the swarm. If Rogue accidently touched any of these eager passersby, they'd lose a part of their psyche to her body. It was a mutant ability she'd struggled with all of her adult life. But she was also pregnant, and her mutation placed her babies at a high risk for miscarriage. In an attempt to spare the unborn twins, Honor worked extra hard to protect Rogue's flat tummy.
Behind Honor and Rogue, Bella Donna struggled to carry everyone's luggage.
"Ah wish you'd let me carry my own bag," Rogue said, "It ain't gonna kill me."
Once outside the entrance doors, Belle set down her load and sweetly asked her daughter: "Chere, you done wit' dis?" In her hands, she held Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. The so-called children's book was as heavy as a baby hippo.
"Sí, sí, Momma. I finished it on the flight."
Belle expertly threw the book like a boomerang. It flew a good ten yards and knocked Remy in the back of his head.
"LeBeau! Get your ass over here and help us!"
.::.
Tante Ro drove us to Xavier Academy. The students returning from Christmas break filled in the traffic around us, and I'd hoped to arrive unnoticed. I wanted to pretend the last two months of my life never happened, but everyone here knew and was unlikely to let me forget. The moment we pulled up to unload, a crowd gathered around our car.
"Gambit!" Paige Guthrie, a blond student, practically threw herself on my father. "Did you have a merry Christmas?"
"Oh, Mr. LeBeau!" her friend Tabitha Smith joined in, "Lookin' good!"
"Here, Gambit," said Mel Guthrie, "Let me help you with that – Oh, hey, Rogue!"
"Girls," she curtly acknowledged.
"Pochica!"
I knew the voice instantly. Turning, I saw my friends Uri and Tess. I only saw Uri first because you can't miss him: he's big as a mountain with tough green skin and bright yellow eyes. Like most people with physical disadvantages, he learned to make up for it with an outstanding personality. His reputation at the school could easily rival the most beautiful and athletic students, but Uri really was a dork. But the source of the voice was my Tess. Oh, how my heart soared at the sight of her. My first and truest friend. Like me, she'd been artificially aged, and now had the body of a sixteen-year-old. She was slightly shorter than I, with pale skin that bore many scars, and raven hair that shimmered pine green in the sunlight.
"Sage! Newton!" I cried and bounced to them.
"Group hug!" Uri said, picking Tess and I up in one bone-crushing embrace.
"Uriah…!"
"You're really hurtin' us!"
He set us down and told me: "Oh, this place is so droll without you trying to kill yourself!"
"And the instructors have far too much time to bother us," added Tess, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.
"Mais, you can all relax now! Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts!" I put my arms around them, so happy to be home again.
"Harry Potter?" Tess asked, "I always thought you were more like Sirius Black."
"Then away wit' me, Misters Moony and Prongs, for we have much mischief t' manage!"
The three of us moved away from the crowds to one of our favorite haunts: the underbelly of the bleachers. I didn't care what others thought or how they looked at me. For the first time in a long time, I felt like myself again.
Uri filled me in on the gossip, including the media search for my whereabouts.
Apparently, Xavier saw an opportunity for positive P.R. in the Harlem riot three months ago. Papa and his friends received a hefty bonus for their containment efforts. More importantly, they were popular with the people. Tragic and inspiring stories surfaced, and certain additional people were awarded medals. I was one of them. The governor wanted to give me the medal of valor for "outstanding acts of heroism".
Unlike many of the other heroes, my actions had been captured on film, and were played over and over again on the television. There was a demand for an interview with me, but of course, I was… unavailable. They might have overlooked me if my father weren't so attractive and powerful. They might have forgotten about me if Johnny Sanchez wasn't my godfather. My pretty looks and elusiveness added to their appetite, and they craved answers.
"Your picture's been all over the circuits," said Uri. "Gambit refused to give them anything, so they keep using the clip of you blowing up the bus. Don't worry, your hair looked fantastic!"
"That's a relief," I said. "I'd hate t' t'ink they're broadcastin' my fifth grade school picture."
"I can't believe you, Uriah," said Tess, "All the excitement around here lately and you're talking about her hair. Tell her about Ms. Frost."
His eyes became as round as saucers.
"How could I forget? Frosty's the headmistress now. She's replaced Ms. Grey in every way… She and Mr. Summers have been all over the place together! They're not even trying to hide it!"
"And speaking of Mr. Summers," Tess added, "Nate's moved to New York."
"She wouldn't care about Nate Summers," said Uri. "She doesn't even know him. But trust me, honey, you'll learn all about him. People around here act like they've never seen a gorgeous hunk of a boy with old money."
As if on cue, said pupil approached the bleachers. Three pretty girls, all older than me, stood in his shadow. One of them, a pretty black girl named Melody Jacobs, hung onto his muscular arm. She was under his spell, and he was completely smitten with her. I could tell from their locked eyes and the way she pressed her breasts against him that they were lovers. I wanted him to recover from our horrible experience: insanity, rape and possession – a dark period I would never discuss with Uri or anyone else. But it hurt to see how well he had recovered.
Nate's bright blue eyes stayed on my face. He said something to the girls that made their pretty faces turn ugly, and then left them. As he approached me, Melody made to follow him, but Tess quickly intercepted her.
"Hey, 'On," Nate said coolly and the white streaks in his brown hair fell over his face.
"Hey, Nathan."
"You two know each other?" Uri said.
Nate politely introduced himself, and Uri answered: "I know who you are."
"This is my friend, Uri Kobowski," I said. "He doesn't know when to beat it."
Uri looked puzzled. "Like the wind, sweetie."
As he left, Nate sighed: "Does everyone have to know everything around here?"
"You get use to it…"
Awkward silence lingered between us. We were trying to have an intimate conversation in public. Knowing he could hear my thoughts, I decided to talk with my mind.
*I'm not supposed to be alone with you.*
*I know,* he thought. *Me neither. I won't keep you long. I just wanted to say, I'm glad you're okay.*
*Yeah, well… I'm glad you've got such a thick skull. I'd hate to feed you through a straw for the rest of your life.*
*Good thing your screams can wake the dead. And teleport them to the moon, apparently.*
We smiled at our own morbid jokes, and never discussed it again. The pretty girls came and sucked him back into the appropriate circles, and I faded into the background with my friends.
.::.
My knees had locked and my heart was pounding in my ears. It was dark, and nearly all my escape routes had been shut off. I was so worried that my father wouldn't be able to distract my mother, but he convinced her to leave us alone. From our corner, we dashed across the stage behind the closed curtains. On the other side, I heard Ms. Frost's booming voice and the heartbeats of several hundred people. The red 'exit' sign was within reach when Papa grabbed my collar and yanked me back. I chocked from the impact, and then gasped as he threw me out onto the stage.
Traitor!
Everyone applauded my entrance.
My face burned. I wished I were invisible.
The whole school was there, including the X-Men. I recognized a group of powerful politicians sitting beside Xavier. The only news outlet present was a local channel. The reporter was Trish Tilby: an old flame of Dr. McCoy. The new headmistress, Ms. Frost, introduced me, and then the governor of New York shook my hand and presented my medal. I can only recall a few blurry moments of the event. I do remember the governor's warm hand and kind blue eyes. I remember Ms. Frost beaming proudly at me – like she'd never known Ms. Grey or that I'd killed her. And for what? If these people wanted to know the truth, I'd lost my mind and overpowered, blowing up six city blocks in an attempt to protect Tess from being abducted. Everyone thought I was protecting the people on the bus from the riot, but I wasn't.
Somewhere in the background, I heard Momma say: "Ma bébé! Look, chere, we made dat!"
But I remember, clearly as the sun, Tessa smiling. My eyes found her in a sea of faces. Her proud smile gave me strength.
Afterward the political circus to promote mutant rights, the older students threw a party with music and alcohol. I made the mistake of attending, and found myself irresistible to teenage boys. Their flattery was intoxicating.
"You're the prettiest girl on campus, honey."
"If you just opened up a little more, you'd never have another lonely Saturday night."
"You should come to our after party. I'd love to spend more time with you."
"Here, have another drink."
Once again, Tess came to my rescue.
"We're leaving right now! Try to stop me, and I'll tell Gambit that you horn dogs have been pumping booze into her!"
As we stumbled outside, I thanked her.
The party went on without me.
"It's nice to finally get you alone," she said. "I was beginning to think I'd have to schedule an appointment."
"Not you, Tessy. Never you."
"I was so worried about you, 'On. I was afraid I'd never see you again."
I took her hand, but it wasn't enough. I hugged her arm, but that wasn't enough, either. I didn't know exactly what I wanted, but I needed more of Tess. She seemed to feel the same way. Hand-in-hand, we strolled to the training field and sat on the icy bleachers. While reminiscing about the sparing match that had set recent events into motion, we stroked each other's hands and hair. We both began to shiver, although I suspected the snow had no connection. My skin felt so alive. The way she drug her nails over the skin on my hand made every cell sang in ecstasy.
So I kissed her.
.::.
Hey Pochica,
I've been up all night thinking this over. I've got to get this off my chest, and I hope you can forgive me. You're my best friend and I love you. From the first day we met, I've felt this connection with you. You make me feel so alive. I've never felt this way.
I can't imagine my life without you. Before I met you, I was just going through the motions. Like a zombie. But you make everything feel so real.
I don't ever want to live without you. We're soul mates. We've always been together.
You're my everything.
How do you feel about me? What was last night to you?
Please don't hate me.
~Sage
…
Sweet Sage,
How could I hate you? You've given me a place to belong. I feel the same way about you. No one's ever made me feel the way you do. I love you. I think I've always loved you. I want us to be more than friends. Kissing you was the best thing I've ever done.
Are you ok with that?
I love you.
~P
I put my response in her locker before first period. I expected another note before second period, but none was forthcoming. I couldn't breathe. My stomach churned and boiled. During class, my hands were damp and my head light. What had I done? She'd never speak to me again.
Third period was mutations control: a mutual class. She handed me a tightly folded note and walked away. Under Logan's all-seeing eye, I didn't get a chance to read it until after class.
The locker was full of sweaty girls in various stages of dress. The older girls quickly showered and crowded around the mirror to re-apply make-up. The younger girls crossed their arms around tiny breasts and huddled together like sheep. Tess was nowhere to be seen.
I grabbed a toilet stall and opened the letter.
Chic,
I don't want things between us to change. You know how people talk. What would your parents say? They might never let you see me again.
I don't want to be under people's microscope. I love you, but I'm not blind to the fact that people are going to talk about us. It would drive us apart. As much as I hate these people and this school, I have to live with them.
And then there's Nate. I've seen the way you watch him. Would you choose him over me?
I just don't think it's worth the risk. I'm happy being friends.
The whole world began to spin. My chest seized. I turned to the toilet and threw up. A girl knocked on the door, but before I could answer, I vomited again.
"Are you okay, honey?" asked Tabitha, a sophomore, "Logan push you too hard? …Did anyone see who went in?"
"I think that's Honor," answered my roommate, Julie.
My school mates called for Dr. McCoy, and I was so embarrassed that I let Logan take the blame. I went willingly to the sick ward, and Dr. McCoy treated me for exhaustion.
"You normally do well under Logan's supervision," he said casually. "I know there was an unapproved social gathering last night, and some of the older students behaved most recklessly. Did anyone offer you a drink? Is there anything you can't remember?"
"I got back okay," I said without much concern. "You're a doctor. Why don' you ever talk t' me like Dr. MacTaggert?"
"Well, Miss LeBeau," he pushed his glasses back. "I'm not a psychiatrist. But you are welcome to speak with me about any matters where you value my expertise."
"There's, uhm… someone… I really like. But dey don' feel de same…"
"Oh, I see. And I infer you feel rejected based on a physical level? Yes, I could probably be considered an expert on the subject. Unfortunately, I can offer no words to bring you relief, and I've heard them all. But I hope the bitter taste of heartbreak will sweeten the arrival of true companionship."
There was a terrible pressure in my head. My eyes burned and leaked. My heart literally ached.
"I feel like I'm dyin'."
Dr. McCoy brought me a glass of water. "Drink this, kitten. Is there anything I can do to ease your longsuffering?"
"Non," I drank the glass. "I can't live wit'out her."
He wasn't shocked by my pronoun. Instead, he sat across from me and said: "I highly doubt Miss McNeil wants you negated from her entire existence. Her love may not be similar in desire to yours, but I'm certain it's just as potent. I'm sorry for your pain, little one, but you still have a great deal to take joy in."
"I could be in love wit' Ms. Frost, you don' know." I wiped my face.
He smiled and sent me on my way with a chocolate lollipop, which cheered me up considerably.
I went through the day feeling like someone had ripped my limbs off. I felt as hopeless and humiliated as a spider under a child's sadistic thumb. I wanted to die. I made a point to avoid Tess, but that only brought more attention to our situation. Everyone asked me where she was, why we weren't together, or if we'd had a falling out. The whole world knew we belonged together. Why didn't she see it?
At home, my love life was no one's concern. Rogue was moodier than the English sea. She'd decided to take off the collar that inhibited her powers, at least temporarily, and seemed to be doing well. She still wore it in the evenings, when I'd rub her feet or back, but Papa wasn't allowed to touch her. If he so much as kissed her, she'd scold him, but he took it all in stride.
Also, my parents were trying to work out a custody arrangement that pleased everyone.
"What do you want?" Papa asked me about our living situation.
He and Momma were very still and quiet. I knew they'd only asked for my input because they couldn't reach a compromise.
"Are you askin' me t' chose?"
"Non, of course not."
"I want both my parents. Is dat an option?"
After I'd gone to bed, they spoke with Rogue over tea.
"It's what she needs and what she wants," Momma said, "She needs stability, Remy. She needs structure. It's stressful enough for her bein' back at school, where de kids pick on her! De she's got de stress of exams and now Nate's here, too! Mon Dieu, once you get sent t' another mission, it'll be de end for her. De last t'ing she needs is t' be rotated from one house t' another."
"No, I don' want dat, either."
"I don' t'ink New York is good for her. Too much stress."
"She's happy here, Belle," Papa countered. "She'll be stressed anywhere. 'Least here, we got de people t' handle it. You can't say dis place done her more harm den good! You seen her face when she saw her friends."
"But there's Nate. She shouldn't have t' see him every day after what he did t' her."
"Let's not base our lives around de Summers, oui? De place so big, and dey don't share classes. She never have t' see him unless dey go lookin' for each other. Nate's only here t' help Cyke deal wit' Jean's passing, but Em's doin' a fine job of dat. We see how she does. If he stays and she can't deal wit' it, we'll move from dere. Till den, de only person who has a problem wit' New York is you. But you can stay here at de mansion. Got plenty a' room. Dat way, you see her just as much as me."
I don't what made my father think that would be a good idea! The X-Men were extremely distrustful of Momma, and put Bishop with her almost permanently to keep an eye on her activities. Between Papa's classes and training sessions, my parents found time to discuss everything about me: my grades, my moods, which medications I should stop taking, and which ones I should be taking more; my weight, how much I slept, which doctors I should see, and when I should have an appointment. Yes, they left no topic untouched. For those truly hectic days, they communicated via post-it notes and in anagrams. If they wanted to get a message to me, they'd write it on my napkin and put it in my lunch. 'Polly tours Fort Igend' meant: don't forget your pills. 'Fly Loo loves a foul meal' meant: all of me loves all of you.
I thought Dr. MacTaggert would've been proud of us for working like a family, but naturally, Rogue was insanely jealous and felt isolated.
Trying to establish some independence, Momma enrolled at NYC University. We supported her as best we could, but she was completely out of place.
"Dese kids kill me!" She complained. "Twenty-eight years old, and don't know what dey wanna do wit' dere lives! You know what I was doin' at dat age? Explaining puberty t' my youngin'! I got not'ing in common wit' dese damn spoiled Yankees!"
But things weren't bad for everyone. Johnny got a record deal, and Momma's Dead Song was all over the place. Since Momma co-wrote it (but was officially deceased), I received fifty percent of the royalties. Of course, Papa tried to refuse. We didn't need the money, and had done none of the work. But Johnny insisted.
To get away from my problems, I took up astronomy classes with Tante Ro. I had always enjoyed star gazing, and this gave me a chance to avoid the people I loved while doing something I loved. Tess found out and joined, too. Our first class together, she shared my telescope. She did little things to be close to me: rested her chin on my shoulder, grabbed my hips as if casually walking by, put her hand over mine. It felt wonderful to be near her again.
After our first joint class, the small group dispersed into the night. Tess followed me.
"You never answered my letter."
"You said it all," I said, avoiding her eyes.
"I think you misunderstood me, Chica." She took my hand. "I miss you. Don't you miss me?"
"You said you didn't want me." My voice sounded so little, and my eyes couldn't bare the sight of her.
"I didn't want people to find out about us. I want to be with you, but I want it to be just us. I don't want everyone trying to tear us apart. And you know they will. Remember what a big deal it was when Bethany saw us in bed together? They won't understand. But you're so sweet, 'On. So innocent. You'd tell the world and expect them to be happy. Wouldn't you?"
"I love you," I told her. "What's wrong wit' dat?"
"Nothing. I love you, too. Let's just wait to shout it from the rooftops. Okay?"
This time, she kissed me.
.::.
Rogue was beginning to show, and was forced to confront the rumors. For years, the students had been speculating on her relationship with my father, but when the big change occurred, no one noticed. She told her squad first that she had indeed eloped and was pregnant. A few moments later, Ms. Frost made the announcement at breakfast. People were more surprised at how well we kept the secret than in its discovery.
I smiled with pride every time someone asked me: "How long have you known? How could you not say anything?"
Now that she had an excuse, Rogue's patience completely disappeared. I loved her, but she was impossible to be around.
Momma's birthday is February 14th, exactly two months after Papa's. I decided we all needed an excuse to celebrate, and insisted on Papa taking us all to dinner and a show. I thought maybe some fun would make us forget our problems. I picked a secret, rooftop restaurant where the chef cooks all the food in front of the guests. He was a loud Italian man who sang off-key and was generous with the wine. We all ordered something different and shared plates.
"How'd you find dis place?" Momma asked me.
I told her how Dr. McCoy mentored me during my brief troubled phase, and adored this man's desserts.
"De food is fantastic," Papa said. "Be better if it weren't freezin'."
"I hate dis city!" Momma burst.
Inwardly, I groaned. Was one night of contentment too much to ask? Tess gently placed a hand on my knee, but no one noticed. Papa had engaged my ill-content mother in conversation about our inevitable future.
"What it gonna take t'make you happy, Belle?"
"Nothin'! You gotta job here. A wife. Honor got her friends. School. I got nothin'. So I go back t' Nawlins, and den what? Honor gonna fly down on de weekends? I t'ink not. We gotta stay together. Either ya'll be unhappy in Nawlins, or I'll be unhappy here. Dis a democracy, so Momma looses."
"Dat ain't what I asked you. I asked you what it gonna take t' make you happy?"
She took a deep breath. "I wanna see Honor every day. I want m' own place to live. Some place wit' a porch and a yard. I can't stand de way people live here: on top a' each other like roaches!"
"Ah'm partial t' porches that wrap all the way around," said Rogue idly. She was picking all the vegetables off Papa's plate, and he'd subtly pushed it closer to her.
"I wouldn't mind 'em on de second floor, too," Momma answered.
"Mah dream house would let me step out of mah bedroom onto a balcony that overlooks a lake…"
"Waterfront property?" I said. "You do dream big!"
Papa smiled at them and asked me what I wanted.
"I wouldn't really care if it was a big house or not," I said. "But I guess it'd have t' be, non? De twins will need separate rooms eventually, and I don' wanna share. Plus, Momma and her boyfriends... Dat makes for a big house."
"What boyfriends?" My mother sat up straight and looked doubtful. "You see somet'ing tall, dark and handsome in my future?"
It made me happy to discuss a project with my family: something we could all enjoy. I didn't particularly enjoy discussing "the future". When Momma asked me directly about a tall, dark and handsome man in her future, I received a vision. Although I tried to resist, I saw Bishop's outline. I saw his shoulders and face clearly. The M-shaped scar faded into a wrinkled face. He looked back and smiled at me.
I shuttered.
"I've always wanted a tower," I avoided the topic and diverted back to the house subject. "You know, it's a part of the house, but kinda separate."
"Like you," said Papa.
"Its round and got a spiral stair-case," I used my hands to illustrate my vision. "De room's at de top. And it has a round window like a ship."
"Well, if we all gonna be livin' together," said Momma obliviously, "We need thicker walls den dat cottage in Scotland. We were all on top a' each other dere. It was terrible, Tess. Couldn't nobody sneeze wit'out de whole house hearin' it. And dese two would be up all night like a couple a' rabbits."
I laughed so hard and suddenly that water shot into my sinuses.
Rogue choked, too, and Papa's face turned red for an entirely different reason.
"You could hear us?"
"Hear you? Chere, I could tell what position you were usin'."
"Mon Dieu," he dropped his head in a rare display of embarrassment.
Momma loved it.
Rogue turned to me. "You heard, too? Why didn't you bang on the wall or somethin'?"
"Papa kept tellin' you t' keep it down," I giggled, "and you didn't seem keen on listenin' t' him."
Somebody banged the table so hard that our glasses rattled, and Tessa's fork fell off her plate. Papa called for the check. Momma laughed until she cried, and Tess and I were in stitches. After dinner, we headed north towards Broadway. The walk was a few blocks, so despite the cold, we decided to walk. Papa kept asking Rogue how she felt – where her feet too swollen? Was she cramping?
"She might be all right," said Momma, "But I'm about to wet m' pants. I woulda never thought ma fille would say anyt'ing like dat!" She laughed again.
Tess and I buried our faces and giggled. She and I linked arms and walked behind my parents. Momma did a double-take, but decided we were just fighting the cold. The air itself wasn't unbearable, but the wind cut right through our jackets. Momma took Papa's vacant arm and leaned slightly towards him.
I thought it was the first time I'd seen my parents touch, but I then remembered a memory not my own. That night in Muir Island when Dr. MacTaggert had me restrained, my father disintegrated the chains and vowed to keep me safe without bonds. My parents fell into a half-sleep in my hospital cot. I lay between them: completely unconscious. Momma had a hand on my stomach, and Papa laced his fingers with hers.
"Are you okay?" Tess whispered. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Fine."
"You had a vision, didn't you?"
"I love you, Tess."
No one knew me like she did.
Since I picked the restaurant, Momma picked the show, but I don't remember much about it. Tess and I sat on the end. She put her arm around me and traced my collar with her finger. I could've burst into flames.
After the show, we girls grabbed a hot chocolate while Papa hailed a taxi to take us back to school.
"Thanks for inviting me, Ms. Boudreaux," Tess said.
"Please, call me Belle."
"I really had a great time tonight. I never got to do things like this with my parents."
"Why not?"
"Mom-"
"No, its okay, Chica." Then she told my mother: "I grew up in a war torn land. We barely had enough to eat, and theaters didn't even exist in my homeland. As an act of survival, my parents put me in an orphanage. I was the youngest, the weakest. It was only fair. That's how I met Professor Xavier."
"What de heck was he doin' in a foreign orphanage?"
"Oh, he didn't come to the orphanage. No. There was… Well, Xavier was there on work. You know what kind of work he does. He found himself trapped in a cave and unable to call for help. A man who used to work at the orphanage would take me to that cave sometimes. Xavier and I helped each other out of a bad situation. He offered to bring me to the States, and my parents accepted."
"Where are your parents now?"
"My mother used to visit me at the orphanage. I know she was killed, but my father is lost to me."
Momma had tears in her eyes. She hugged Tess so tightly that my friend was paralyzed.
"Poor tite fille! We're your family now."
.::.
The snow melted and the sun began making longer appearances. The flowers meekly re-emerged in tiny blossoms, defiant against the winter chill. Rogue's belly expanded. The twins grew a little more every day, and she had renewed enthusiasm to conquer her powers. She was doing therapy with Ms. Frost and mental examinations with Professor Xavier. Papa had become something of a hermit. We saw him when it was time to eat or undergo therapy with Ms. Frost and Rogue, but he had a lot of unexplained missing time. I took Momma's cue not to investigate. She switched her major to accounting, and seemed to enjoy it. She said she'd been keeping the books for the Red-Headed Stepchild (her bar in New Orleans), and this seemed like a natural progression. Inevitably, she began balancing Papa's accounts, too.
"LeBeau!" She snapped at him one day while filling out her logs. "What de hell is dis?"
"Belle, you said you would help. Hasslin' me ain't very helpful."
He was on his way to therapy, and already looked exhausted. I gave him a hug, but he didn't seem to notice I was even in the room.
"I don' mind a miscellaneous expense here an' dere, but dis totals up t' almost half a million dollars. De IRS is gonna want an answer."
"I promise I'll have an answer by tax time."
"You know its next month, oui?"
He walked away. I felt stunned. For one, why didn't he acknowledge me? Secondly, I had no idea he had that kind of money.
…
Personally, I seemed to find my stride. My grades were at the top, and there was discussion of promoting me to the ninth grade next year. I worked extra hard to make the effort appear easy. I wanted to be in the same grade as Tess, but Papa was worried about my health. Since our return from Scotland, I'd only had one episode. It was stress induced, and he thought too much pressure would push me into another relapse.
There were a number of rumors circulating about me. One was that I was "with" Tess, but this rumor didn't gain much momentum. It was old news, and discouraged by the teachers. Another rumor, one I actually put faith in, was that Logan had a squad already picked out for me. I couldn't imagine he liked any team well enough to assign me this early. I didn't really care where he assigned me, either, as long as it wasn't my father's squad and I was with Tess.
I was worried about Papa. I had a terrible feeling that something bad was about to happen to him, but I didn't understand why.
One day after ethics, I had the impulse to stay behind. Eventually, the classroom emptied until I was alone with Ms. Frost.
"Miss LeBeau, is something the matter?"
"It's my father."
She pressed her lips. The bell rung and the next group of students entered.
"Come to my office between four and five today."
I didn't understand why, but I had the sudden urge to act on this premonition. I felt my mind submitting to my powers again. I was slightly concerned, but decided to let this impulse direct me. My powers couldn't be all bad.
I barely remember my classes, but I was at Ms. Frost's office five minutes early. The door was locked and it was dark inside, so I waited on the bench.
I heard her heels clicking down the hallway like a drum solo. Her arms were full of books and papers, and she carried a heavy bag on her shoulder. She bore the burden gracefully, and didn't rush for my sake.
"Come on in, honey," she said without looking at me.
We entered the office. It was the same room formerly occupied by Ms. Grey, and I felt a chill.
She closed the door and took her seat behind the desk.
"So what's up?"
"I can't explain it, but I know my father's in danger. And I don't know why, but somet'ing told me t' tell you."
She watched me evenly. For a long time, we just looked at each other without speaking. I wondered if she was trying to read my mind, but didn't ask.
Ms. Frost is a stunningly beautiful woman. All the boys openly discussed their sexual desire for her, which I found revolting. I know it must've been even harder for her, since she could hear their thoughts, too. She was very beautiful, yes, but I wasn't aroused by the sight of her.
Like everyone else, I had seen her cleavage and smelled her perfume. Her pants clung in a way that left nothing to be imagined. Her skin was flawless; her lips full and begging to be kissed. I wished I had her hair: perfectly blonde and smooth as liquid. But that was all I wanted from her.
I looked around the office. She had erected a large portrait of Ms. Grey, which I thought was a little tasteless.
Why did I think that?
It was sweet.
She'd replaced the books with more provocative literature, and the pictures were completely absent.
"Why don't you have any pictures of Mr. Summers?" I asked without realizing I was even speaking. It was the same thing I'd asked Ms. Grey!
My blood ran cold. The full awareness of the situation struck me like a truck. My mind was trying to revert to a time when Ms. Grey was still alive, so I could correct my mistakes. I was losing it! Sobbing hysterically, I rocked back and forth. For a moment, I'd truly forgotten where I was. I'd been feeling funny all day. I should've told my parents and taken my meds. I should not have surrendered control of my mind and actions. I should've known better.
"Honor? Honey, take a seat." She got up and helped me to a chair. "Why are you so upset?"
"I forgot who you were."
"Who did you think I was?"
"I didn't think. I just said it. I said de same t'ing t' Ms. Grey!"
"You saw her picture and remembered a prior conversation," she squeezed my hand and smiled kindly. "That's nothing to get worked up about."
"You don't know what it's like! I can't just say t'ings! I can't just do t'ings! I gotta – I gotta-"
"Focus! Now listen to me and do as I say. We're going to converse, you and I. Don't be afraid to say what you're resisting."
I stopped fighting the urge to spew word salad. There was someone else inside me trying to speak, so I let it. "A picture isn't as inappropriate as screwin' wit' his head."
I heard myself gasp and covered my mouth.
Ms. Frost looked at me for a long time. My eyes held hers: waiting for admonishment that never came.
Instead, she said: "You're a precog. I know this is frightening for you. Remember what I said when you first came here? We can't help you unless you're honest with us. I know there are people who won't understand, Honor, but you don't ever need to hold your tongue around me. Now tell me about Gambit."
"He's in great danger," I heard my voice say. "Before Gemini rises, a woman in blue will destroy him."
I clamped my mouth shut, denying these frightful words existence.
"Who?" Ms. Frost pressed.
"Someone he trusts."
"What does she want with him?"
"She wants him dead."
I felt Ms. Frost gently pulling strings in my mind, tuning the images and sensations like an instrument until she produced the sound she wanted. I felt the strange, disconnected voice suddenly click with my mind. The great knowing thing inside me came out of its cage and filled me. It didn't hurt, but I suddenly knew more than I wanted to. I tried to accept the understanding.
"Can you see her face?"
"She's gonna destroy us," I began to cry again. "We ain't got a chance. She's smart… ruthless… relentless."
"So am I."
.::.
Until my new power levels stabilized, I was confined to my bed at home and left under my parent's watch. Ms. Frost was worried I'd be flooded with visions, but I only Saw for those physically closest to me. Predictably, my father found it unbearable to be still around me. He moved in and out of my room like a trapped fly trying to find an opening.
"Why're you actin' like dis?" I asked him. "Maybe it'll help if you just sit – Papa! You had sex with a nun?"
"Pillow!" he said. "You need another pillow."
And he was gone again.
"No worries, sugah," Rogue said, propping her feet up. "He's been like this for a while now. I'm sure it ain't got nothin' to do with you."
"Maybe he's tryin' t' avoid you," I said without thinking. I covered my mouth.
"What do you know? Rotten brat."
She left me with a fashion magazine.
Momma sat with me all evening. We played cards and watched television. When it was time for supper, Papa made a brief appearance. He brought us both a plate and disappeared again.
"No worries," I grumbled after him. "I won't intrude on your life."
I thought bitterly about Rogue and the twins eating with him while Momma and I were pushed aside. He lived in his own little world with his new family. Momma and I were parasites who constantly stole his time.
"You know your father loves you," Momma said weakly. "He's just scared. Ain't a feelin' he's particularly comfortable wit'."
"It's ironic, really. He and Rogue are mutants, but dey're afraid of me."
"It ain't you, petite. T'ought you were supposed to know dat wit' your gypsy tricks."
I smiled at her. "Eat your vegetables."
"Dat man knows I don't eat greens," she said as she shoveled them onto my plate. "Dunno what he was thinkin'."
"Rogue doesn't want de twins t' look like mutants," I said.
"Mais, it's easy for her to dink dat now. De babies are just a t'ought right now. But trust me, as soon as she sees dem, holds dem… She won't care what dey are. I know because I been dere, too. When I was heavy wit' you, I use to pray: 'Oh dear Lawd, please don't give my youngin' her papa's nose!'"
"His nose? Not de eyes?"
"I loved his eyes. It was de nose I didn't want to pass on. But once I saw you, I loved everyt'ing about you. Didn't matter t' me if you were bald or had six arms or shot fire outta your nose every time you sneezed. Dere ain't nothin' you could do or be dat make me love you any less. You're ma fille."
I knew we weren't talking about appearances or mutations anymore. We were talking about Tess. She gave me a boost of confidence, and at the same time made me feel very vulnerable. My mother, while always honest and brave, was rarely sentimental. I felt compelled to tell her about Tess, but since she already knew, I shared another secret instead.
"I want you t' know, Momma… I don't blame you for all dem years wit'out Papa. You were right. I don't need him de way I need you."