Chapter 14. New Trials.
Red and black eyes.
Mutant.
...Well, mutant, or some guy wearing specially coloured contact lenses. But Pietro was leaning toward the first.
"Who are you and what do you want," he couldn't help the growl in his voice, and he readied himself, in case he had to dodge anything.
The other mutant smirked. Leisurely.
"Call me Gambit. I've got a message for you. Your dad says, 'have a good winter, and keep in touch.'"
It was a lively, late Sunday morning. For once all of the mansion residents were up before twelve. And without a scheduled Danger Room session or even a threat of such. Truly it was amazing what the prospect of gifts could do for nineteen teenagers, Logan had to admit. With more than half the Institute's students leaving for the winter, the kids had assembled together and decided on a gift exchange event, to be held today around lunch. He should have known how chaotic it would be. Unfortunately he had not foreseen it, and as such he was witness to the disorder.
"Jamie, the food goes over here, and the gifts go over there!"
"Sorry Jean!"
"Todd, no peeking!"
"I ain't peeking, yo! This is, um, research! Yeah, that's it, this is research, Kitty!"
"Very funny, now step away from the presents, or Ah'll tell everyone what you bought."
"Hey! No fair! I knew I shouldn't have asked your opinion!"
"Summers, here's your car key back! And whoever wanted the pizza with anchovies, take them now!"
"Thanks for picking up the pizzas, Alvers, Roberto, Ray!"
"You're welcome! And Rahne, Amara, Jubilee, you guys lost your bets, Ray, Lance and I didn't fight once the whole trip, so we proved that we're not overly short and hot-tempered! You guys owe us a lunch."
"See, Amara, Rahne, I told you their competitive streak would win out against tempers."
"Ye were right, Jubilee."
"Yeah, this is a good way to keep them from fighting—good thinking Jubes."
"Psst, Bobby, think up some better lines."
"Oh shut up Sam."
"PIETRO get back here with that popcorn, you are not having all three bowls to yourself!"
"You snooze, you lose, Daniels!"
"Can't ve just make some more?"
"We're out of popcorn now, Blue."
"Uh, right, sorry about that."
"It's no problem, Freddy. Ve can catch Pietro."
"Ha, you wish, Fuzzball!"
Oh yes. Chaos. These kids really forced him to act.
"Ahem," he cleared his voice, but it didn't have the quick reaction it usually did. SNICKT! and heads turned. Sheathing his claws back, Logan spoke. "All of you. Sit down and calm down before you all get extra Danger Room sessions to get rid of your extra energy."
See, he did have a way with words sometimes. Let anyone else try to get the kids' attention that fast.
"Ororo, they're all yours."
"Thank you, Logan," Ororo shared an amused smile with the other three instructors before turning to the teens. "Now is everything just about ready?"
The teens shrugged collectively, before Kurt spoke up. "Presents?"
"Check," Jean answered, motioning to the stack of wrapping paper and boxes in the side.
"Food?" Fred asked.
"Check," Ray stated, nodding to the pizzas, drinks and other snacks (save one bowl of popcorn that no one had managed to take from the-lately-on-a-popcorn-obsession Pietro yet—actually by this point it was understood that the bowl would be the sacrifice made to secure the other two bowls of popcorn).
"People?" Rahne shrugged, even as everyone turned to look at her. "What?"
"Okay then, I guess we're ready to start the gift exchange," Scott said.
"Who goes first?"
"Um, youngest to oldest, how about that," Jean answered in response to Amara, looking at Scott and Lance with a small apologetic look, since the three were the eldests out of the nineteen teenagers gathered.
"Sounds good," Lance agreed, much to the happiness of Jamie, the unchallenged youngest at age twelve.
"I get first pick! Yeah!"
"Then Rahne and Jubilee, Bobby, Sam," Todd counted out, taking it upon himself to list the order, "Amara, Roberto- oh and me, yo! Man, I ain't that young or old, I'm in the middle!"
"No one said you vere either," Kurt commented, confused.
"You know, there's too many of us that are sixteen," Pietro remarked. "Me, Daniels, Tabby, Fred, Fuzzball, Ray— hey Roguey, you just turned seventeen before me, didn't you."
"Ah guess Ah did."
"Hey! I turned sixteen too you know," Kitty informed.
"You know we're never going to get our turns," Lance mused to Scott and Jean.
"Yeah, you want to start on one of the pizzas with me, Alvers? Jean, how about you?"
"Good idea, Scott."
"Sure, Summers."
The gifts had been opened, shared and traded. The food was gone, from the pizzas to the popcorn to the chips and pretty much all the soda they could find. The Sunday afternoon had dwindled to the evening, and everyone had spread around in the lounge, talking in small groups. With Jean, Kitty, Kurt, Evan, Amara, Sam, Bobby, Jubilee, Rahne and Jamie all going back home for the winter the next day, the conversations zigzagged around wildly and even more loudly than usual, as if to make up for the month of quieter days that would come to the mansion with the winter break.
"Rogue keeps saying my new scarf looks too dark on me—what do you think, Lance?"
"Honestly, I think anything looks good on you, Kitty."
"Lance," she giggled, leaning into his shoulder.
"...Kitty, you know how we all made the deal to stick to the gift exchange and not get anything else for anyone?"
"Yes?"
"Well, I broke the rules again," he grinned, presenting her with the small locket. "You mad at me?"
She smiled. "No. Don't tell anyone, but I got you something too."
"Oh you two are definitely paying the fine!"
They turned at the collective shout and the giggles. "BOBBY! JUBILEE!"
"I still don't see why everyone thinks I'm too young to go to the airport alone!"
"Jamie, you're twelve, buddy," Fred replied, used to the complaints of the youngest resident of the mansion. "And since you needed to go with someone anyway, everyone decided to go the same day and keep each other company at the airport, so it all worked out, didn't it."
"Actually, Ah think it's worse that everyone will be able tah keep each other company. Ah bet Jean an' Ororo will have their hands full keeping an eye on everyone at the same time."
"Kitty, Kurt and Evan are going too. They can help. Maybe," Fred shrugged.
The three considered the thought for a second before coming to the collective conclusion. "Nah. They're going to join in."
"Hey Pietro."
"Yeah Daniels?"
"Um, here."
As the envelope was shoved into his hands, Pietro could only blink, before raising a single eyebrow. "What's this?"
"Well... all right, I didn't know what to get you, so I just got you a gift card for the mall. You like shopping for yourself, man, you go get something on your own."
"...Daniels, the gift exchange is over."
"I know, and I know we all made the deal, but I just wanted to give you something, for, you know, all the other times I missed... See man, if you had just taken my invitation when I asked you to come back home with me and Auntie O, this wouldn't even be an issue."
"...whatever man, you got me a gift card. That's basically what grandmothers get their grandkids when they're teenagers and they don't know what to get them."
"Oh shut up, you're too picky to shop for."
"You know, I'm going to beat you at this. I will not be bested!"
"If you start ranting again, I'm gone man."
"Oh shut up Daniels."
"So, um, Jean."
"Yes, Scott?"
"I... well, have a good winter. It must be good going back to see your family. Have fun."
"Thanks, Scott."
"You're welcome... Right, I'm going to check on Kurt, he said he wanted to test out the new soccer ball he got with some of the others."
"...Scott, wait," he turned back around, and she smiled. "Really. Thanks. You made this year a lot easier for me."
"...Yeah, you too."
"Zis is for you, Todd."
"What? What's this yo? Are you giving me your wallet?"
"Ja. Zis is yours now, so stop stealing other people's."
"...Aw man, Kurt. This is empty, yo."
"Zat is not vhat is important!"
"Yeah I guess. Thanks man."
"You're velcome."
"Yo, you're actually broke, aren't you."
"...Ja. On ze bright side however, I now have an excuse to get a new vallet, vhen I do have ze money."
"So… sometime next spring?"
"Ja, maybe later—I vant to get a new video game too."
He hadn't been watching her, per say.
It was just that he noticed her as she slipped out from the group, heading out of the room. Of course, he hadn't intended to follow. After all, that wasn't his role. But looking around the room, he saw that maybe he should take the place, just for now.
Todd was in an intense conversation with Kurt, Amara and Sam, trying to convince the three to bring him back souvenirs after the one month winter break; expertly thwarting Sam's argument that he was not going abroad, or even anywhere particularly interesting in his opinion, by stating that Todd personally had never even seen a real farm before, and as such the place was interesting to him.
On another side of the room, Fred was immersed in talk with Roberto and Rogue regarding what to do during the winter, the three being part of the mansion population that would stay for the break (Roberto had been unexpected, but declared his stay with vague reasons regarding a shaky relationship with his father—something that Ray wasn't necessarily supposed to know, but overheard passing Professor Xavier's office a few days ago).
Nearby Lance and Kitty were showing the world the true meaning of… 'insanely sappy', as they continued their Romeo & Juliet romances, apparently exchanging secret gifts with each other. They would definitely have to pay the fine for crossing the rule of going beyond the gift exchange, but Ray didn't really care about it all that much to be the one to demand so.
As for the last possible person, one who had seemed to be particularly clingy around Tabitha lately... well, Pietro was nowhere to be seen. Strange. The white-haired teen hadn't strayed too far away from Tabitha lately.
...Well. In any case, it seemed like he was the only one that had noticed Tabitha's leave. And so, he excused himself from the conversation with Evan, Rahne and Jamie, walking after her. He hadn't followed her out quickly enough that he could still see where she was going, but he had a good idea anyhow.
"Bobby may have had his crush on Jubes first, but Roberto is definitely getting farther with Rahne. Then again, Wolfsbane actually knows Sunspot likes her, doesn't she. Did you see them at the gift exchange? They definitely told each other which present was theirs and basically got a present for each other. I didn't know DaCosta was so sappy."
"...Ray, what're you doing here."
"Smith, isn't it obvious. I'm playing dark horse. Besides, I was getting tired of all the going home talk back there."
She was too tired to even refute the situation, to refuse the offer. Instead the conversation plunged right in.
"...Hey Crisp."
"What."
"...mind if I ask you something weird?"
"...No. Go for it."
"...family... you know... I don't need it. I mean, you guys are good, and the boys are like brothers to me, and... but, you know... the other stuff? I don't have it and I don't need it. But what is it when I feel weird like that about random people?"
"...You're not making sense, Tabby."
She laughed, but it had the air of a sigh. "Yeah, I know. I'm not making sense to myself, either. I don't know what's with me these days. I keep thinking about weird stuff, you know?"
"I do that every holiday season. It's not that weird," Ray replied. "It's all right to remember it, you know."
"...so you ever feel connected to someone... not like brothers... but kind of family anyhow?"
He had to consider the question for a moment, but he realized what she meant, thought she was not wording things so directly. Parents. She was thinking about her parents again.
"...No... I haven't done that in a long time. Still, Professor X is, well, you know, a good teacher to me, I think. I mean he did give me a place to stay and everything, and, you know, a normal life," he knew he was showing his reluctance and uncertainty far too openly, but with her it would be okay. No consequences, that was the rule.
"Does that count?"
"...I don't know. Oh forget it. Hey, your turn."
"...All right..." His turn... no consequences. The rule. Yes. "...so, you ever feel like... like you don't know what the hell you're doing, and it seems like maybe you shouldn't be doing it, but you do it anyway?"
"365 days a year, Crispy."
"You take that road, and I'll call you Smithy."
"Touché, Lightning."
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five-
He forced himself to stop. He had to stop pacing. He was going to wear down the ground at this rate. But without the movement, the distraction the pacing served as, he again turned to look at the cell phone without even realizing.
DAMN!
Why? Why! And why now?
Did he expect him to call? He must, otherwise he wouldn't have sent the cell phone.
He checked the contacts list again. And for the thirteenth time saw the single entry. Nameless, just a number. But who else could it be.
He expected him to call. He knew that. But even as he knew, he couldn't help wanting to call anyway, even if it meant playing right into his hand, moving exactly as he wanted him to on his little chessboard.
What could he do?
Why did he have to send it?! Why did he have to do this?! Why?!
...and why was he dialing? WHY?!
Hang up. Hang up. Hang up!
"...he..hello, father."
He was an idiot. A stupid, hopeless idiot.
Though he hadn't actually done much during the day, he felt strangely tired. Or maybe he was already missing Kitty. She, along with many of the other residents of the mansion, would be flying back home tomorrow. Lance wondered how often she would be able to call during the one month winter break, especially since to his knowledge, Kitty had not told her parents about him yet. At least, he hoped she hadn't. When she had mentioned that she wanted to tell her parents she had a boyfriend now, he had asked her not to, for fear of what they would do if they found out that their daughter was dating a hood like him. She had argued that they would not act in such a way, but finally relented at his insistence, promising to delay the news report. Surely she hadn't told them yet. Surely.
Yawn.
He really was tired. Glancing over at the other bed, he saw that Todd had already fallen asleep. So perhaps it was just that everyone was tired after the pleasantly hectic day of gift exchanges and temporary goodbyes.
Switching off the light, he decided to opt for sleep rather than ponder over the matter.
-Dream Flashback-
He woke, not knowing how he had managed to fall asleep. Every part of him hurt. He had no idea how badly he was hurt, in medical terms, but it felt worse than any other time before. Shakily, he forced himself up, and then off the bed. It hurt just to breathe, and after the simple act of getting up, he was already panting, deep, ragged breaths leaving him.
After a moment of hesitation, he carefully picked up the clothes that had been placed on the bed, next to him, which he hadn't dared to touch until then.
Changing was a difficult task, his body stiff and aching. He took extra care not to rip any of the bandages or open up the wounds. After he had finally managed it, he paused, not sure what to do next. But then he noticed the messiness of his room and winced, wondering if Mystique had been angered by its disorderly state when she had entered during the night. Picking up the clothes on the floor and the empty rolls of bandages, he realized that, although he really wasn't sure, he had the feeling that it had been Mystique who had gotten him back home from the base, though if she had been the one to bandage him up, he was even more uncertain. But whether she had bandaged him up or not, he was pretty sure she had brought him home, and for that he was grateful. He was sure he'd be reprimanded for not getting home himself, but that he could probably survive. His room cleaner, his eyes traveled around for other things to clean up, and noticed the lack of the water bottle and cup from last night.
He was sure he hadn't lost it—he hadn't dared to touch it—so someone else must have taken it out... It was only then that he noticed how quiet it was, and wondered about the silence of the usually noisy and lively house, only to realize that it was a weekday. Everyone must've gone to school. As he walked downstairs, he hoped that he had been given allowance to miss the day of school, since no one had come to get him, though the creeping feeling that maybe he was supposed to get there by himself did not leave him. Deciding that he'd better make himself as useful as possible, he gingerly headed into the kitchen, where he expected their usual morning disaster. Surprisingly, the kitchen was clean, with the exception of a small pile of dishes in the sink. Wondering if Pietro, Fred and Todd had cleaned up before school instead of after as they usually did, Lance headed over to do the dishes. But he quickly discovered that his strength was far from back yet, when he dropped two of the dishes, and they shattered on the floor.
Not even noticing that some of the shards had flown at him, Lance panicked, the punishment for breaking not one dish, but two, immediately realized. He rushed to clean up the mess, not wanting messiness to be tacked onto the list as well. He didn't even realize that by kneeling, the shards were digging into his knees; his shaky hands- from fear as well as lack of strength- couldn't pick up the shards very well.
"Leave it."
He swerved around, remembering a second too late not to look up and snapping his head down. He hadn't heard her nearing, in his state of panic. The two words sent chills down his back, and more beads of sweat trailed down his face, now from fear more than strain. "I-I didn't mean to-" he stopped when she started over towards him, closing his eyes and bracing for the blow. Not even after she had passed him, and stopped a few feet away, did he move- it was only when she spoke that he opened his eyes.
"Get up, Avalanche."
He hastened to comply, though the hurry gave him a head rush and sent pangs of pain from all his body. Gaze down low at the floor, he reminded himself not to look up, and managed that despite the surprise he felt at the next order.
"Go get yourself cleaned up."
He was only just realizing that her voice was surprisingly calm, even more so than her usual cold composure. It was unexpected and he didn't know how to handle it. He swallowed hard, but could only handle a stammer, even though he knew how much she hated it, when anyone stuttered or stammered.
"M-Mystique?"
She didn't get angry, however. "Your knees. While you're at it get washed up."
He noticed the blood trickling down from his knees then, and after a second of hesitation, nodded and hastily headed for the bathroom. He lingered there for a moment even after he had finished washing off the light cuts, uncertain and with remaining fear that had awakened from the night before. He would have liked to take a shower, but felt that could wait until after he was certain he hadn't done anything to piss off Mystique. When he finally did emerge from the bathroom, it was from giving up more so than discovery of an answer—he had no solutions and no idea what to do. He had yet to receive punishment for breaking the dishes, he knew. But first he would have to take care of the broken shards. Cautiously he stepped back into the kitchen, lest Mystique still be there. He was stunned to see that there was no longer a mess, nor any dishes in the sink. And the broom that had been a few feet away had been moved. Anxiety gripping him, he carefully went into the living room, but she wasn't there either.
Maybe she had gone to school, he ventured. After all, she did work there, and it would only make sense.
Suddenly, he felt tired. The half of a morning had barely passed, and already he was tired. Hoping that Mystique would not be in a particularly bad mood when she returned, he headed up to his room to rest.
And walked right into her as she came out of the same exact room.
He froze. He was relieved he had cleaned up his room earlier, but at the same time, fearing what she would do now.
"Stay in your room and get some rest."
He almost looked up at that, forgetting himself, taken off guard. But if she noticed, she didn't seem to care, as she walked past him and left, closing the door.
"Lance! Lance!"
Lance awoke at the shaking, startled, tense. But he relaxed at seeing that it was Todd, and sat up as he asked the question.
"What's wrong?"
"Tabby needs you."
He had never seen her in this bad a situation before.
Sure, he had seen her in bad moods before, depressed moods and angry moods alike, but she had always maintained near complete control, something he had always marveled at in secret, as it was something he found impossible to do and was incapable of truly doing. But this... she was nearly at her limit.
Torn pieces of paper, destroyed pillows, overturned chair... if he didn't know better, he would have thought she was having a breakdown very similar to the way he did them—enraged and desperate. But it could not be a breakdown... Tabby did not breakdown. She had never done so, but unlike Lance himself, she literally never had. No hidden breakdowns like him, no close calls like him. She was controlled in more ways than he could count, and at first he had found it... truthfully, it had disturbed him. That much control didn't come after just anything. She always presented herself exactly as she wanted, and he never found out the reasons behind this, how she could do it and why she did. No one had yet.
...though perhaps this would be the night. The situation certainly seemed enough.
"...Tabby?"
She was leaning heavily against the desk, deep breaths the only real sign that she was reaching her limit. "...I'm all right, Lance."
"Tabby," he walked closer, closing the door behind him, though a big part of him wished he could call at least Pietro in with him. "Let me help."
"Lance... I destroyed it."
He wanted to ask what, but as he reached her, he saw the answer. His gaze fell on the shredded pieces of the photo, and he could guess what it was. The one picture she had left of her mother. "...I..I'll help you fix it, Tabby. It'll be all right-"
She shook her head, and it was then that he realized she was not sad... nor was she mad. No... It was something else, something more mixed with the depression and anger.
He couldn't tell what.
"I thought it would... make me feel better. Make sense of things... but it makes me feel worse, Lance. I've done something stupid again."
"...Tabby..." What was it? Hopelessness? No... Desperation? No... What was it? "I'm so sorry..." he reached out for her, cautious about putting the arm around her, pulling her close; she did not lean into him, and he made up for it by stepping closer. She allowed him that, but no more. He could not comfort her, and he felt powerless when her voice trembled.
"...I can't make the same mistake again, Lance. I can't."
He didn't know what she meant. He didn't know what to say.
"Lance... I won't survive if it happens again. I just... he isn't anything to me. He's not. I can't make the same mistake again."
He realized what it was. Frustration. Confusion.
Finally knowing what it was, he would have tried to help; she did not give him a chance to act on the realization however.
"Lance... I'm sorry about this..." her voice was quieter again, calmer down, though whether it was calm or out of strength, it was hard to tell. He knew her pattern—just as she started going somewhere, she would stop, apologize for waking or keeping him up, and send him back to bed, leaving her alone with her problems. She never would let them know what was wrong, unlike the way they handled their problems. Lance had thought, in the past, that Tabby might just take things differently, and if the method worked for her, then he had no right requesting the reasons and background stories of her issues, regardless of the fact that he did want to know better. As time went on, at times he doubted that it truly worked, but never enough to act upon it, not that Tabitha really gave him a chance to. Today however, it was evident he had to at least try.
"Tabby... you try so hard to be the one that doesn't need anyone... but can't you let me in at least? At least us?"
She said nothing for a long moment, and Lance did not know what to expect, especially when she raised an arm, before wrapping it around him, holding him back at last. Her words however carried all the futility of the world.
"You're stronger than me Lance... but you can't protect all of us. And I won't ask you to."
The two sentences were all he had to hear. They held all the reasons, all the explanations. It wasn't that she handled things differently. It was that she did not want to burden them. Even now she refused to let them know; for fear that it would weigh as heavily on them as it did on her. What she was forgetting was that once the weight was shared, it wasn't nearly as unbearable anymore.
"I'm all right, Lance. Go back to sleep."
"...Tabby..."
"I'm fine. You don't have to stay."
The tone told him to leave- if he respected her and loved her, he would leave. And because he did, he had to.
"...A..all right. I'll... I'll see you in the morning. Just... call me if you want me, Tabby. We're here."
"...I will. Good night, Lancey."
He nodded faintly, turning around after one last hesitant look at her. "Good night, Tabby..."
After he left, she sank back onto the floor, her gaze falling onto the shredded pieces of paper.
"...You cursed me with these powers... and you blamed me for them. You kicked me out, and I'm never going back. And I'm never making the same mistake again. Ever."