Eternal Synergy

"Everything can change at any moment, suddenly and forever." - Paul Auster

Telling Charles about everything since my arrival save for the run in with Gabe, thank you Raven for planting the seed of doubt I seriously didn't need that crap, took up a large chunk of that day. My old friend smiled affectionately for the duration of my stories without saying much. Usually he had a hundred things to say about my reckless habits. And during my time with the Dugen boys I was a little more wild than when I was at the Palace. From the games of car chicken I mentioned earlier to skinny dipping in freezing early January water, there was plenty of room for a firm reprimanding. Yet I got none. Huh. Part of being an adrenaline junkie was enjoying being told what to and what not to do and ignoring the people who tried to tame you. It's probably one of the best things about it, actually.

But it was so like Charles to kill my buzz so I guess I wasn't all that surprised. Anyways we bid each other farewell around noon and I headed back for whatever decided to tickle my fancy. I took that opportunity to make that much needed trip to the pee room I wasn't able to make when I was risen from my concussed stupor. And, for once, finding a bathroom didn't take all that long. As I washed my hands I thought it best to take a look at the break in my skull. I shooed something black in my peripheral vision that prevented me from seeing the mirror clearly. But I couldn't actually see my head trauma just by looking so I gently probed it with my fingers until I found the soft spot in my noggin. God that feels weird.

According to Warren, Hank had literally turned my head into a wrecking ball. Digging his nails into the side of my skull so he had better leverage for smashing his way through his doorframe. Apparently he thought my head would be perfect for renovating. It had been a good dozen smashes before someone bothered to come and check out why the freaking foundation was shaking. In the end I was knocked out for a whole day with bits of brain tissue exposed to both the air and the elements. They could've at least plastic wrapped it or something. After that Hank ran out into the woods and, too my knowledge, they were still looking for him.

So with a majority of the mutants I knew out making sure Hank didn't go all Wolfman on anyone in the immediate vicinity I decided to take a much needed bath. I started the water and while I waited for it to run hot I peeled off the clothes I had been manhandled in. Blood stained a majority of the white shirt I'd been wearing, only natural from the severity of the wound, but I wasn't a girl for shopping and I didn't bring much of a wardrobe with me so that bummed me out. I threw the thing into the wastebasket below the sink in both frustration and disposal since there wasn't much hope for it. With my shirt out of the way I unconsciously went from my ace bandages when I felt something different in its place. I'd completely forgotten about it.

A bra. Can you freaking believe it. A fucking bra. During my three weeks back home my itty bitty titties grew to a normal size for someone my age. Yeah, a little late to the party dontcha think? I actually went bra shopping for the first time in my life because of it. I had never seen so much lace in all my days. Didn't really see a use for the bandages anymore. See I have a confession to make. I tell everyone that I wore those things around my chest to keep my boobs from getting in the way while I ran but the truth is I was just an insecure teenager with tiny bug bites where certain womanly bits should've formed. And also because I had a bit of scar on my upper ribs that I was self conscious about. Besides the tight wrappings hurt my newly acquired tatas. By my seventeenth birthday I was over it and totally used to the idea of a flat chested eternity so when the great bosoms of above gifted me with a previously unread of femininity I was definitely taken for a loop. I mean, seriously? Couldn't have done that back in Saffron? Fuck you universe.

I'm getting sidetracked, as I so often do. But you've stuck with me this far so I'm just going to assume that you're used to it.

After being so thoroughly distracted by my new fat sacks I ran back over to the tub to plug up the drain and submerge myself in the hot water. God that felt great. Getting the remnants of dried blood off of my aching skin was long overdue. I washed and scrubbed myself thoroughly before the tub was full of water so I could let the dirty water drain and fill it up again for relaxation's sake. I did just that, throwing my hair up in a wet, sloppy bun, and sighing away my anxieties.

Ohhhhhhh yeeeaaaaaaaaah. That's the ticket.

There's nothing sweeter than lounging in barely scorching water. Though I did hate it when my skin turned a bit red due to the heat because it forced my scars to stand out like a nun in a brothel. And I had plenty of the little fuckers. I had the aforementioned gymnastic injury and the scar that was expertly hidden under the curvature of my left boob now. Then there's the scar on my wrist from when I had to reset it back in grade school, the other knee injury that was actually the result of me falling down in a bed of hot coals and burning off most of my skin, the graphs on my arm from that same incident, the puckers on my knuckles from the fights I'd been in, and several others I'm probably forgetting. I guess I didn't mind my marred skin. Proved both to me and to anyone willing to examine them that I'm a diehard fighter. Except the one on my chest. I don't remember what that was from.

But being a fighter doesn't matter. I'd still die in the end. Everyone would die. So what's the point of fighting to begin with? All of the patriotic bullshit my dad goes on about only gets you a pine box and I'm proof of that. I fucking died without anything to show for it. Dead. Maybe I'm still dead. Maybe that's a good thing. Being dead is better than living like I so. Living in fear. In fear of disappearing. Of disappearing and only returning after everyone I loved is dead. Dead. I should probably check to see if I'm still dead. Better to be sure than not, right?

I looked around for something, what exactly I couldn't tell you. I settled for a nail file resting on the counter. With a bit of effort I reached for it and held it firmly in my hand. My eyes darted between my clenched fist and the pale skin of my forearm. I laid my wrist out against the porcelain of the tub, the blue veins completely exposed and utterly vulnerable. With a twisted smile on my face I raised the nail file high above my head and brought it down on my unsuspecting flesh. Through skin and tendons it cut, fresh blood quickly spilled from the slit, each drop chased the last, forming a pool of blood on the tiled floor. As I watched the running crimson I smiled to myself. Guess I was alive after all...

What the fuck!

Suddenly the gravity of what I had just done came and hit me full force. What have I done. I threw my weight foreword in panic and I searched desperately for something to stop the bleeding. Why the fuck did I do that? What was wrong with me? I wasn't suicidal, not in the least, yet I put a metal stick through my wrist! Intentionally! While I was fumbling around being a total frantic mess I didn't actually look at my wound. If I had I would've realized a lot sooner that, well, there wasn't one. My eyes widened at my injury free wrist in total amazement. Gently I ran my fingers over the soft skin, just in case my mind was playing tricks on me. Upon poking and proding it I confirmed what my eyes were telling me, no reason for concern, nothing wrong here, get back to work soldier! There's no way... I was sure that... How did it... Could it have... No... Fuck no! I felt that shit there was no way I imagined that!

That's when I noticed the smoke.

"'Atta girl!" Someone exclaimed cheerily. "Took you long enough!"

Sitting on the edge of the tub was Gabe. Fuckin' Gabe. Fuckin' asshole. A stupid smirk shone brightly on his twisted face. Him meddling in my sense of reality was really starting to piss me off. I was about to start charging myself when he wagged a disapproving finger in my face.

"Ah ah ah! Remember what you're sitting in!" He chastised.

Confused to my core, I looked down. Shit. I was sitting chest deep in one great big electrical conductor. No telling what would happen if I added that little spark.

I looked back up at his smiling face. "What the fuck do you want."

Gabe chuckled a bit at my vehemence. "Ooooo, someone sounds a little testy."

"Well someone did just trick my mind into thinking I killed myself." I snarled, I definitely wasn't in the mood.

He shrugged as if he'd gotten mud all over my sweater (but in his defense I'm pretty sure he'd be that nonchalant as he grilled puppies alive over a spit). "Not my fault you can't take a joke."

My jaw dropped. Joke? Joke? This was a fucking joke? If this was him kidding around then I definitely didn't want to see him when he was serious! Dude was really starting to freak me out with the black smoke of hallucinations.

"What the hell do you want, Gabe." I asked in a tired groan. "You get your kicks out of watching me squirm?"

Again, he shrugged. "More or less. Can you blame me for wanting to see my favorite sister after being apart for so long?"

Unconsciously I snorted. "Yeah. Whatever. I'm your only sister. And you don't seem to be in the mood for a family reunion so why not just cut the bull and get to it."

"Okay, I know I'm being a prick, but I can't help it." He tried to excuse his actions. "Our transformations heightened every part of us. Yours brought out more self-sacrificing hooey while mine just amped up that already twisted humor of mine."

"That doesn't give you the right to torment me you little shit!" I seethed through clenched teeth.

He smirked at me like I'd just said some inside joke. "But doesn't it? It's in my DNA! And there ain't nuthin' I can do about that!"

"I don't fucking care!" I said, still seething slightly. "If you feel the need to fuck with people then you can get the hell away from me!"

"I'm done tormenting you, I swear." He promised as he held up his hand. "Scout's honor."

Though I didn't really believe him I guess I didn't care. My brain was a big fuzz. It was like he wasn't even my brother. Like he was some asshat that wasn't even worth the shit that came out of him. But at the same time he was like an old friend, an old friend I couldn't possibly be mad at no matter what. Which explains why I wasn't strangling him for all of the mental trauma he was causing me. Some part of me was still giving him the benefit for the doubt for whatever reason. I'm a family girl at heart. And I hated that most days. I wanted to despise Gabe, I wanted to throw him out of a window, I wanted to crush his Adam's apple under my heel, I wanted to take his balls in my hand and rupture his scrotum. I wanted to do many violent things to my younger brother. And I hated that too! Why was it so frustrating being me? Why couldn't I live some apple pie life without all of the smoking, or the radiation, or the mutants, or the fighting, or the dying.

"Yo, you still in there?"

I was brought out of my daze by a waving hand in my face. I swatted it away with a glare and a growl.

"You going to be able to give me a couple of minutes without spacing out?" He asked in exasperation.

Well sorry for not wanting to talk to a psychopath! I moaned in my head but I nodded in the affirmative to his question.

"Good." He smirked. "Because I actually came here to tell you something. Something sort of important."

I snorted sarcastically. "Awwwww, you didn't come here to make my life any more difficult? That was just an added bonus?"

Even though I was mocking him he seemed to find my spitefulness entertaining. Through his Cheshire Cat grin, he chuckled. "Yup, I'm just a generous guy. Which is why I'm here to tell you one tiny little thing."

He paused after that and stayed silent for a bit. After a while I got fed up and smacked my hands on the water. "Out with it!"

Again, he smirked. "There's a lot you don't remember. I don't remember it either. But I'm starting to, and it isn't pretty. You really should watch out for that Charles guy you're all so fond of. We've known him a lot longer than you'd think."

With that he gave me a wink and became enveloped in his special smoke and vanished right before my eyes. Great. He's a teleporter.

But seriously, what the fuck. What was up with that? Yeah, I'm a forgetful little twit and he really didn't need to rub it in. I don't know why he came all the way down from Erik's weird human hating cloud to be a cryptic little shit. I hate all things vague. I'm not a very smart girl and if I need to take more than thirty seconds to figure out the meaning of something it's usually not worth it. But- I know this was definitely important. The second warning about Charles. Because in some part of me I knew it was true. There was always something I feel like didn't happen the way I remembered it. And, somehow, Charles, the man I loved like a mother, was at the center of it all.