Title: How to Heal a Broken Heart
Author: Silverwind24
Disclaimer: I don't anything so far except perhaps the character Callie and her family. I'm not worried about anyone wanting to use them really, but in case you have that slight inclination, just don't, ok?
A/N: Please review if you read. It makes me really happy, and want to write more! This is the first X-Men fanfic that I've written; I got the idea after watching X3 twice over the weekend. I haven't even read a whole lot of X-Men fanfiction so I'm sure this sort of story must get annoying, and I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure that my OC isn't and doesn't become a Mary Sue.
Chapter 1: Just Like Breathing
The view from the desk where Callie sat was fair enough; she could see the clouds passing quickly against the background of the bright blue sky, and if she stood on her toes and leaned against her desk, she could even see her sister and brother run from the school bus to the house, giggling and racing each other the whole way. Callie recognized that half of the reason that she did this was to be able to immediately intervene if either Sara or Josh became injured during their frantic fifty yard sprint, and after catching her breath once or twice, she heard the tell-tale sounds of her younger siblings' safe return home. Callie shook her head to clear her thoughts, and stretched her arms, which were cramped from sitting for so long at her desk. Her honey-colored hair was swept back in a careless pony-tail, and a few stubborn wisps fell onto her face, and she brushed them out of her eyes as she yawned. Homeschooling had its perks, such as being able to do her course work from her own room, wearing pajamas and no makeup, but she had to admit that sitting for so long in one position grew tiring after a while.
"Callie!" The sharp and demanding cry that distinctly belonged to her younger sister Sara shook Callie out of her reverie. Knowing that her sister's whirlwind arrival in her room was imminent, she swung open the door and began to head downstairs.
Just as Sara, who sat perched on the kitchen counter dressed in overalls with her hair clipped up with barrettes, was about to open her mouth again, she saw her older sister come around the corner. "There you are Callie!" She exclaimed with a smile that lit up her whole face. "Two things," she said, with a business-like manner that seemed beyond her eight years, making Callie almost laugh. "Number one, you have a letter in the mail, and number two, Josh's throat has been hurting him all day."
"Thanks, Sara," Callie replied, taking the envelope that held her letter from Sara's outstretched hand and tucking it underneath the waistband of her pants. "Is Mom home?" she asked quickly, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at the door.
"Not yet but hurry." Sara said insistently.
Callie's eyes turned to Josh, younger than Sara by nearly two years and Callie by more than eleven. He was sitting at the kitchen table frowning, one hand on his throat. Callie ran her hair through his curly brown hair. "What's the problem, little man?" she asked, crouching down to look him in the eye.
"My throat hurts real bad," he said quietly, pointing at his neck.
"I'm sorry, sweetie," Callie said with genuine sympathy. "Want me to get you some medicine to make it go away?"
"No." He said stubbornly, sticking out his lower lip.
"Why not, Josh, otherwise you won't feel any better," Callie asked, rubbing his shoulder with her hand.
"I don't want to take any medicine. It'll still be bad. I want you to fix it." His lip began to quiver.
"Josh, you know Mom would get mad," she replied warningly.
"I don't wanna take medicine and it hurts real bad!" he told her, louder and more insistently this time, his wide brown eyes filling with tears.
"Oh Josh, ok, ok, don't cry, bud," she told him, weakening at the sight of his tears. "Sit still, ok?" He nodded, and tipped his head back a little bit. Closing her eyes, Callie touched the tips of her fingers to Josh's throat for a moment, and a soft, white, and barely perceptible light engulfed his throat. "One more minute," she told him, and she repeated the motion to his ears, chest, and nose. Opening her eyes she smiled at her little brother, taking his hand in her own. "Feel better?"
He nodded. "Thanks Callie! What you do works so much better than gross medicine!" He exclaimed with enthusiasm, throwing his arms around her neck.
"What is it that you do that is so much better than medicine?"
Callie's heart stopped for a second at the sound of her mother's voice. She disentangled Josh's arms from around her neck gently and nudged him towards the back door. "You too, Sara," she whispered. Sara immediately hopped off the counter, took Josh by the hand, and led him towards the swing set that stood in the backyard.
"Josh's throat was sore, Mom," Callie said, looking at her mother, who stood in the door, shopping bags in hand.
"Callie," she said sharply. Callie looked back at her mother, whose face was a mixture of disappointment and anger. Gloria Walker was not an imposing woman by nature, but raising her three children alone after the departure of her husband had given an edge to the Callie's once-gentle mother. "What is it that you don't understand?" The older woman asked, disapproval in her voice, along with a trace of frustration.
"Mom, it's not bad! I helped Josh to feel better! That's not something bad!" Callie responded, knowing that she was digging herself into an impossible hole, but for a moment, she didn't even care.
"This isn't me trying to restrict you. This isn't me being the over-protective mother of a rebellious teenager," Gloria began, the sound of impending tears in her voice. "It's not right. It's not normal. Tell me, Callie, why don't you go to school?"
"Mom…" Callie replied, taking a step away from her mother, shaking her head as tears pricked her own eyes, looking at the hard wood floor. "I didn't do anything wrong."
"I cannot believe that we are having this discussion," Gloria began.
"It isn't a discussion, Mom, it's never been a discussion. It's you telling me that I can't help my little brother feel better by doing something that comes as natural to me as breathing comes to you," Callie told her, wondering where her strength was coming from, but still feeling the threat of tears clutching at her throat, making it difficult for her to speak with the strength and conviction that she felt burning inside of her.
"Everyone breathes. Only you do….. this!" her mother responded, shaking her arm at her. "I will not discuss this with you any longer. There will be no repeat performances of this little episode," she declared harshly, her eyes darkening.
Tears slipped down Callie's cheeks. "What if Josh or Sara were dying? What if you were dying? Would you stop me then," she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Gloria Walker stared back at her daughter blankly. "You've been disrespectful to me for long enough today, don't you think? You are my daughter, and this is my house. You will do as I say." She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to end her tirade. She sighed, shaking her head sadly, the look in her eyes revealing that she wished this conversation didn't have to take place. "Go to your room, Callie."
Callie looked her mother in the eye as she turned to go up the stairs to her room, resigning to her temporary authority, but knowing in her heart that she was wrong. After climbing the stairs and walking down the hall to her room, she shut the door gently behind her and rested her forehead against the cool wood with her eyes closed. After thinking of nothing for several moments to clear her head, she remembered the letter she had yet to open. Sitting down on the edge of her bed she opened the letter hastily, searching for anything, even trivial, to distract her from her moment of frustration and despair. Her eyes scanned the words quickly, and she caught her breath in surprise. The envelope contained a letter and a brochure from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. She read the letter quicker than she knew was possible, and her mouth fell open in shock and awe. She opened the brochure with shaking hands, gazing at the pictures of the beautiful campus, and of the students that lived there. When she finally tore her eyes away from the brochure in letter, there was a feeling in her heart that hadn't been there before. Something that Callie recognized gratefully, for she hadn't felt it in so long: something called hope.