Disclaimer: I am not making any money of this. I own none of the rights for the X-Men, the characters used within this piece, or to the X-Men movie franchise. The italicised fragments were kind of inspired and modified from Comedity 2.0, all rights for that to Garth Graham.
In my dreams, I am flying…
Shining white lights, clean, bright tiles, reflections of walls and silver chrome.
Purity.
But then I fall
Scraping and scratches. His arm was starting to ache. Why wouldn't they go away? Maybe if he went just a little bit further, a little bit more, cut just so... He'd do it, he'd do anything if it would work, and then maybe Daddy would still love him. The thought gave him strength, and he slashed viciously, fueled by desperation. It hurt, but he had to-
I am cast down
A knock on the door echoed loudly in the small bathroom, and the boy froze.
"Warren? Son, is everything alright?"
No. No. Nothing was alright. He fought to control the gasping breaths rattling in his throat, to pretend he wasn't there.
"What's going on in there?"
Don't panic. Whatever you do, do not panic. "Nothing! I'll be right out!" he shouted back, trying to keep his voice steady. It sounded weak, even to his ears. Still, he forced himself to stay silent. Maybe his father wouldn't notice. –don't notice, go away, don't no-
"Come on, you've been in there for over an hour." Had it really been that long? -tice, go away, don't notice, go- "Open the door." No! He couldn't, go away, he couldn't- "Warren…"
and I always wake up
Suddenly, he came to his senses. He needed to hide. The door was locked, he had a few seconds, he shouted the first thing that came to mind – "One second!" – and then he was running, scrambling to clean the room. Jerking away from the mirror, he yanked the half-open compartment, dropping a metal file from his hand. Knife, file, towel, scissors…
"Open this door." Outside, the father hears heavy breathing, pounding feet, grating metal and slamming cupboards. "Warren... listen to me." No reply, and even as he grabs the doorknob, he knows it's locked.
"Let me in there right now! Open the door!" The soft sound of keys rings in the boy's ears. Picking up the box of tools on the floor, he shoves them into an open drawer, trying to hide the knives with tissue, even before he registered his mistake. Funny, how the soft white looked even brighter against the dark red stains…
with blood on my hands…
Just as the boy turns, so does the doorknob. The door creaks open.
A glance at his son, small frame racked by suppressed sobs, and his eyes widen with horror. He shakes his head slowly, gaze never leaving the sight before him. "Oh, God… not you…"
The boy's face is contorted with fear, pain, and tears. He cries out, his words a desperate plea for forgiveness. "Dad, I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
Feathers float softly in the air, around the boy with the wings of an angel…
In my dreams, I am flying…
A/N: This was my first piece of fan-fiction. I'd love reviews, as long as they're at least kind of constructive… I have no great wish to be torn to pieces, and "lolz, rly good" doesn't really help either. And I already know the formatting is really crappy, it just doesn't seem to work... This is loosely based on X3: The Last Stand – however, I have not actually seen the movie, only the beginning part, so I had no idea who this was, and it wasn't affected by events/revelations later in the movie. It still works though, really.
Anyway, enough of my babbling… please read and review!