Okay, a little note to people who remember the show better than I can.
This little.thing is taking place shortly after the episode about Carely
and Beast. Problem is, the show is old and fuzzy in my jumbled mind (eg,
I don't even know if Carely is her actual name) I also can't remember if
she died or not. So please, if she did, pretend she's alive. Also, I
don't think I'm going to make a full - fledged story about this. At least
not if nobody wants me to.
Disclaimer: I hold no rights to X-Men, I make no money (opens wallet to show a moth) and you can't have my killer moth either! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*************** *******
There's Still Hope
I see her every time I close my eyes. Her soft, blonde hair, her delicate features, her inability to be mean (even if she tried). And in every case, she is just out of reach. Her eyes are open and smiling at me. Her arms are outstretched and inviting. But she is like the stars in the heaven; always there - but always out of reach.
But in this one dream, I finally caught her. We were finally together. But there's a tap on my shoulder, so I turn around. Standing there is her father; he's calling me mutant, or freak. Shouting every obscenity under the sun. And than, he says that he would lock his own daughter up if it meant we wouldn't be together. And then, suddenly, he's gone. I turn back to Carely, to protect her from her father. But she's gone, and in her place is an FOH soldier. He holds a gun to me, and fires one shot. I move out of the way, but the bullet hits Carely, who was standing behind me. The clearest part of this particular dream that I remember is holding her as she dies in my arms, asking me to forgive her.
"And why do you think she's asking for forgiveness Hank?" Professor Charles Xavier asked the distraught mutant.
Hank McCoy shook his head, for once at a loss for words.
Xavier moved his hover wheelchair closer to his friend.
"Maybe it is your subconscious simply telling you that it's not your fault. That it's time to let her go."
"Yes Professor, I thought as much. But it's hard to try and forget about the only person who could have accepted me for who I really am."
"I'm not asking you to forget her. But to let her go, to move on." Xavier sighed, "I know its harsh advice, but it's for the best."
Hank sighed and stood up; "I thank you Professor. Have a good day," Hank moved over and shook the older mans hand and left.
Back in his room, he picked up the only picture of him and Carely together (it was from her birthday, she was holding his gift to her) and closed his eyes. Gently placing the picture face down, he silently cursed himself at being a mutant. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from right the picture again, and staring at it so intently that he could see the tears matte his fur as he cried. He couldn't, as much as he knew he should, he simply wasn't ready to call it quits.
At least not yet.
Disclaimer: I hold no rights to X-Men, I make no money (opens wallet to show a moth) and you can't have my killer moth either! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****************************~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*************** *******
There's Still Hope
I see her every time I close my eyes. Her soft, blonde hair, her delicate features, her inability to be mean (even if she tried). And in every case, she is just out of reach. Her eyes are open and smiling at me. Her arms are outstretched and inviting. But she is like the stars in the heaven; always there - but always out of reach.
But in this one dream, I finally caught her. We were finally together. But there's a tap on my shoulder, so I turn around. Standing there is her father; he's calling me mutant, or freak. Shouting every obscenity under the sun. And than, he says that he would lock his own daughter up if it meant we wouldn't be together. And then, suddenly, he's gone. I turn back to Carely, to protect her from her father. But she's gone, and in her place is an FOH soldier. He holds a gun to me, and fires one shot. I move out of the way, but the bullet hits Carely, who was standing behind me. The clearest part of this particular dream that I remember is holding her as she dies in my arms, asking me to forgive her.
"And why do you think she's asking for forgiveness Hank?" Professor Charles Xavier asked the distraught mutant.
Hank McCoy shook his head, for once at a loss for words.
Xavier moved his hover wheelchair closer to his friend.
"Maybe it is your subconscious simply telling you that it's not your fault. That it's time to let her go."
"Yes Professor, I thought as much. But it's hard to try and forget about the only person who could have accepted me for who I really am."
"I'm not asking you to forget her. But to let her go, to move on." Xavier sighed, "I know its harsh advice, but it's for the best."
Hank sighed and stood up; "I thank you Professor. Have a good day," Hank moved over and shook the older mans hand and left.
Back in his room, he picked up the only picture of him and Carely together (it was from her birthday, she was holding his gift to her) and closed his eyes. Gently placing the picture face down, he silently cursed himself at being a mutant. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from right the picture again, and staring at it so intently that he could see the tears matte his fur as he cried. He couldn't, as much as he knew he should, he simply wasn't ready to call it quits.
At least not yet.