(warning: self-harm behavior is depicted in this chapter. Not graphic or violent or bloody. It's very brief but if you are sensitive to these topics, you have been warned.)
Rebecca kept telling herself that, in just a few more minutes, she would eventually go to find her father. Yet time seemed to be warped in the institute. It felt slower to Rebecca when it actually performed as usual. Not that it felt like a drag, like as when Rebecca was in class on a Monday morning. Instead, it was like the world was on pause. She noticed little details that she had not noticed before. For example, she realized that, due to the age of building and its size, most of the rooms had a fireplace. However, dust had settled on them and it was clear that they had been unused for a long time. Also, Institute faces a direction so that when the sun sets, the orange glow shines through the glass. Rebecca found that in the later hours, the institute looked warm and welcoming with the dark wood and dimming sun. Rebecca noticed that Julian had dimples on his cheeks when he smiled wide enough and that Ben was one who leaned in close to each of his friends, disregarding the concept of personal space. Rebecca did not mind this about Ben because smelled rather sweet despite his greasy looking hair.
The four of them walked about the halls in a straight line that spanned the whole width and disallowed anyone to get in their way. In Rebecca's old school, she tended to command the space about her. The institute was so unfamiliar that she was forced to take the backseat and follow the others. They chatted about all kinds of things. Rebecca told them about New Orleans: the streets always had music playing and they buried their dead above ground. They in turn told Rebecca about what it was like to live in New York state. They talked about how much it snows there, except this year had an unexpected heat wave, and they mentioned how during Halloween the county participates in a Jack-o-Lantern Festival.
"So, do you like goin' to school here?" Rebecca asked.
"Yea. But, oh, we aren't full students yet," Ben answered as he flicked his hair out of his eyes, "the institute is a bit, er…short staffed right now. And really the place ain't made for very young students right now. We go to the public school but have half days. The rest of the day we come here for special mutant studies."
"Plus, the professors want us to be integrated into the human community and whatever," Marissa added with an eye roll. Rebecca tried to imagine herself doing that kind of schedule. However, there was a dark cloud above her head as guilt plagued her fantasy. Staying at the institute would mean that she would have to leave her home in New Orleans and her family that lived there. Along with her dance team. She could not have both worlds.
"But we get the cool mutant training. Fighting and power training and stuff," Julian said. Rebecca's ears perked up at that concept. Olivier had mentioned training but never gone into much more detail during their conversations on the phone.
"And it will be more fun now that you are here," Marissa exclaimed. She smiled so eagerly, and her eyes were so bright that it made Rebecca feel sad.
"Listen…I might not be able t' stay," Rebecca admitted. She watched their faces fall and added, "Even if I can't stay, I'd visit."
"Becca," Olivier voice called her name. Everyone looked up to him, who was standing at the top of a staircase that spiraled down to the ground level. Rebecca tensed up for a moment until she saw the smile on Olivier face. He said, "I'm here to show you where you'll be sleeping."
Rebecca said bye to her three friends and then followed the path of the stairs. Upon greeting her brother, Olivier reached out to ruffle her hair and Rebecca quickly dodged. Walking beside Olivier, Rebecca noticed how he navigated down the halls and held his head high. A few others passed by and Olivier gave them polite nods. Rebecca thought, He walks like a teacher. It wasn't the swagger that Remy had. This stride was smarter.
"I was waiting for you to finish hanging out with your friends," Olivier admitted. He glanced at Rebecca by the corner of his eye. Meanwhile, Rebecca dragged her feet along the hall rug.
"Just waitin' for me all day, huh?" Rebecca said.
"I actually like hanging out with you," Olivier replied. A mischievous smile crossed Rebecca's face. She looked up at her brother and pushed the white strand of hair behind her ear.
"Why?" She questioned.
"'Cause you're my sister, stupid," Olivier said. His tone of voice was serious, but he was smiling.
"And ya clearly don't have friends your own age," Rebecca matched his smile. Olivier gave her a shove and they both laughed. Yet when Olivier stopped for a moment and just silently stared down at her. He looked at her in a way that was different. A sadness was in his eyes as if this was the last time he was seeing her. Rebecca was about to say something to break the strange atmosphere but one of the bedroom doors opened and their father joined them in the hall.
"Princesse," Remy greeted Rebecca and pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Right. So, my room is two doors down and you can ask anyone here if you guys need anything," Olivier shifted on his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets.
"And tomorrow?" Remy asked Olivier. Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him, but Remy tucked her underneath his arm and held her there.
"Nothing left to do," Olivier answered, his voice was pinched. He looked down at Rebecca and, although she could have sworn that she just tucked her hair back, the white strand had fallen into her view once more. It was always doing that but now the white color reminded her of a ghost following her.
"Are we…leavin' tomorrow?" Rebecca questioned. She strained her neck to look up at Remy, who kept a firm grip on her.
"Tomorrow we're having a ceremony for mom. And we're all going to go and just…be a nice family," Olivier spoke through gritted teeth as he looked at their father. Rebecca frowned and knew that whatever was going to happen in the morning, it was not going to be even close to the picture-perfect family they may have wished they were. Rebecca saw the facial expression on her father's face, and it looked as if he were in pain. A sudden anger washed over Rebecca as she spoke out before thinking.
"Like how she was nice to us," Her words were like venom. Olivier's face was drained of color and his mouth dropped open, but it was Remy who grabbed Rebecca's upper arm and quickly pull her out of the hallway and into the guest bedroom.
Rebecca was stunned by the force he moved her with. Olivier's eyes widened in surprise as well and he followed them. He caught the door before Remy could slam it shut. Rebecca felt her heart race as her father's red irises were glaring down at her. Never had he ever looked that mad before.
"Non, we don't talk about the dead that way," Remy warned. Rebecca tried to pull her arm out of her father's hold, but it seemed impossible. He was not squeezing her to cause pain, but he had her trapped. Rebecca thought she heard Olivier say something, probably attempting to diffuse the situation, but she could not hear him. There was a ringing in her ears like angry bees.
"I ain't gonna pretend that she was perfect. She can't just come for me after all this time not talkin' to me! And pretend that she was my mama dis whole time!" Rebecca argued. Her nostrils flared and she felt her heart banging on her ribcage. Remy huffed at her.
"Listen t' Remy, you think dat she didn't care about you?" Remy said, his voice was bordering on yelling, "All that that happened years ago, had nothin' t' do with you. Your mère wanted t' talk 'bout you every time I was with her. Who do ya think gave me the idea t' put you in those dance classes, hm? And who picked out all those clothes when you were little, and I had to the shoppin'?"
Rebecca felt frozen. She tried to piece together what he was telling her. She could remember living in that small house with the steep driveway and her closet was bursting with clothes. Rogue loved to pick out clothes for her. She was the same with Olivier's clothes until he got old enough to choose his own style. This had always been the case when they lived together but, after the split, Rebecca was signed up for a ballet class for the first time in New Orleans. Her mother was not there at the time. How could she have had any influence in her life after the split?
"Wait, what?" Olivier's voice rang out and vocalized Rebecca's thoughts. Remy ran a had through his hair and only then did Rebecca realize that he was no longer holding her in place. She crossed her arms and held them close to her. Olivier looked as if he had those tears in his eyes again and Rebecca once again tried to focus on creating tears of her own. She was not sure where to start.
"We just could not live with each other anymore. Don't mean we weren't still meetin' from time t' time," Remy answered. Olivier shook his head.
"No way. She was always here; with me!" He insisted.
"Unless she was goin' on a special mission she couldn't take you with," Remy offered the idea with a shrug of his shoulders. Olivier gave a snarl in response. His hands were coiled into tight fists, but Rebecca still saw the sadness in his eyes.
"When's the last time you saw her?" Rebecca asked. Remy's eyes floated down to meet hers. He gave a sigh that deflated his chest.
"'Bout three weeks before you…the whole Sinister stuff," Remy answered. Olivier and Rebecca locked eyes with each other. Their brains were scanning where they were during that time. It had been two months ago that Rebecca was kidnapped. The memory had gotten buried underneath all that information. Rebecca remembered going to Elijah's party the day before she was taken. Before that, she was going to school like normal with Louis by her side. Rebecca remembered…three weeks before Elijah's party, she had a sleepover that weekend. It was girls only, so Louis could not attend. Rebecca remembered enjoying time at the sleepover with some girls from her class. She told them scary ghost stories that they complained kept them up all night. That was the only time that she was not with her father. Unless they were meeting while she was in school but now Rebecca could remember her father claiming that he was doing a job by himself. Most of the time, he took Uncle Henri with him. Could all those times he went alone be the times that he was visiting her mother?
"That weekend?" Rebecca thought out loud, "That's when ya…went t' see her?"
"Oui," Remy answered. Olivier held a hand to his head as if he were nursing a headache.
"She never mentioned meeting up with you or talking with you. What did you guys even do?" Olivier questioned and smirk came to Remy's face. Although, it was not as devilish as it used to be. Whatever light that usually emanated from him was now dull. Olivier did not seem to notice as he huffed, "I can't believe this."
He then turned and exited from the room. Rebecca had to agree with Olivier. Rebecca felt shell shocked and, in this state, had lost all ability to speak. Remy moved to touch her hand and Rebecca flinched away from him. Instead, she looked about the room and, finally, took it in. It was nice. There were two single-size beds positioned like how it was in hotels. A large oil painting of a ship at sea with choppy water hung above the beds. It only had one window and thick curtains concealed the room from the outside. Rebecca sat on the bed closest to the window and kept her back turned to her father.
Rebecca was not expecting to hear the door open and shut again. She looked over her shoulder, as she had assumed Olivier had returned, but found that she was now all alone. Rebecca flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes were heavy as she now felt exhausted. Rebecca closed her eyes and tried to imagine her mother. Had she come all the way down to Louisiana when she visited? She tried to picture her parents, aged but all dressed up, meeting at a café or something. It seemed impossible. Rebecca could not picture them looking lovingly at each other. Even if she tried to pull it from a long-lost memory. It did not exist. Rebecca then looked at her painting of the imaginary scene and realized her mother did not look right. Maybe she had forgotten the true skin tone or the way she sat down at tables.
Rebecca suddenly lurched forward and sat up. She tried to catch her breath and held her hands to her head. A need to escape came over her. The room was too small; far too small. Rebecca looked over at the door but, as she did so, realized that nothing was happening. The room was silent and still. No one was there. Still, fear stabbed daggers into her spine. Rebecca grit her teeth and swallowed a scream. Instead, Rebecca rubbed her eyes, then shook her hands, and even tried to take deep breaths. The feeling remained.
You're ok. You're ok. Rebecca repeated to herself to self soothe herself, but it did not sound like her own voice. Rebecca reasoned that it was not her own inner voice. Instead, it was this ghost that was now haunting her and would probably forever haunt her. All those years, Olivier asked if she had wanted to speak to their mother and, every time, she would answer no. She did not know what to say. Rebecca felt dizzy and her teeth chattered, even if she did not feel cold. And when she was in danger, her mother still came to rescue her. It killed her. Rebecca quickly shut her eyes as if the idea were physically in front of her and she could block it out. Rebecca pulled at her own hair in frustration.
I wish someone would punch me in the face. This time, it was Rebecca's own inner voice that was saying this. She had never felt a guilt this intense. She was not shivering, but her whole body could not seem to stay still. Rebecca made a fist with her hand and with lightening speed she whacked herself at the temple.
It did not hurt at first. So, she did it again. This one hurt more as she put more force behind it. Rebecca tried it again at the other side of her head and repeated that action a few more times. Now, there was pain. It was a pain in her skull, and she noticed that her teeth were no longer chattering. Rebecca did it twice more and her vision was blurry with tears. She took in a deep breath and then released with a sob. Tears came down in rivers and she covered her mouth as to not make any sound that could alert Olivier or other x-men.
She sat on the bed in that lonely room and let loose the tears that she had wished for.
)0(
Rebecca found her father on the front steps of the institute. She approached him cautiously and she smelled the faint scent of tobacco and alcohol, despite the fact that both of these items were banned from the property of the institute. Remy was staring off at the gravel path and expanded green lawn with a dead look in his eyes. Rebecca hugged her arms close to her as the night air was much colder than earlier.
"I know ya don't have many memories of her. So, I jus' thought these could be indirect memories. Let ya know that she was wit' you. I hope that counts?" Remy offered. His voice was tearful. Rebecca frowned and looked up at the night sky. A few stars were poking through the inky blackness but most remained hidden.
"It don't," She answered, honestly. Rebecca moved closer and sat down beside her father.
"Thought you were mad at me," Remy said. Rebecca kept her eyes on the stars.
"I am. Just not that mad. Why not tell me?"
"Dunno. She asked me not to. And…I felt guilty. I wasn't doin' that kind o' stuff for Oli. Guess I wanted to pretend wit' you. We do things sometimes that we don't mean to do. We think we have all the time in the world, but we don't," Remy admitted, and Rebecca had wondered why he had not contacted Olivier before. She assumed it had to be a similar answer as to why she and her mother never spoke. Rebecca leaned over and rested her head on Remy's shoulder. He was warm, as usual, and it was comforting. Rebecca's head was beginning to ache from the self injurious behavior from before.
"I'm sorry," Remy said, and added in a soft voice, "Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime," Rebecca did not hesitate.
)0(
The bed was one of the nicest that Rebecca had ever slept in. Although, she was unsure if it was only that way because she had spent two months on a stiff mattress with no pillow. The bed at the institute was soft and the blankets smelled nice. The pillow was that perfect balance between delicate and firm. It was warm in the bed, but the air was kept a cool temperature. It was easy to fall asleep there.
Rebecca only wished that it were as easy to stay asleep. She was in Sinister's hideout once again. Except it was harder this time. She could barely see what was in front of her. Rebecca staggered about. She could hear heavy footsteps following her but the direction in which they were coming from kept changing. With her hands out in front of her at arm's length, she felt about a wall until she found a door.
She gripped the round doorknob and took a deep breath before pushing it open. It did not lead to one of the three rooms that Rebecca had seen in Sinister's hide out. At first, she thought that she had found the exit because she could see the sky. It was night but clouds were blocking the stars and moon. A large grassy field spanned out in all directions. Then, she realized that there was a glass barrier around her. It was hot in the room, like a greenhouse. She wiped the sweat off her forehead.
Those familiar pods were standing in rows all about the round room. Except that they were empty. Rebecca took a step and there was a crunch underneath her sneakers. Broken glass was all over the floor. The pods had been destroyed and whatever was in there before had been taken out. There was screech heard behind Rebecca and it sent a chill up her spine.
Rebecca turned to find, in the dark shadows, a tall figure. It had three arms of all different lengths and a misshapen head. It limped towards her and Rebecca could see the stitched together skin. Rebecca screamed and ran away. She could hear the thumping steps of the creature running after her. She stared up ahead at the field behind the glass wall. There was a woman standing outside. She had long hair that was moving with the wind and she was calling out for Becca.
Once Rebecca got to the wall, she looked at the woman and realized it was her mother. Rogue was there with one hand on the glass, reaching to Rebecca. She kept calling her name. Rebecca's eyes filled with tears and she placed her hand on the cold glass and tried to charge it. Nothing happened. She tried again and fail. She screamed for help instead.
Rebecca woke up with a jump. She was covered in sweat, so she whipped the blankets off of her. She curled up in a ball and looked over at the other bed. Remy was sleeping a snoring, completely unbothered. Rebecca was envious of him. She felt her mouth and lips were dry. She stepped out of the bed and tip-toed out of the room. She looked behind her to ensure that her father was still asleep as she closed the door. She looked over at the door that Olivier had told her was his own but decided to ignore it. The hall was empty, and the lights were off. Rebecca could not tell what the time was, but it must have been very late.
She wandered about the halls and took deep breaths. Eventually, Rebecca came upon a chess table and chairs. The pieces were thrown about the board, as if the previous game had been interrupted. She sat in one of the chairs and organized the pieces back in starting position. Rebecca did not think about her dream. She refused to do so; it was just a nightmare. Instead, she moved the chess pieces around in a fake game.
Rebecca did not hear another person come up to her. She looked up and was shocked to find a tall, blonde women watching her. The woman was wearing a nightgown that was thin and short on her long legs. Rebecca found it a strange outfit to sleep in as it did not look comfortable. It looked as if it could slip off while one was rolling over in their sleep. It made it uncomfortable to look at this woman and it was definitely something a teacher would not wear. Rebecca did not recognize her at all as one of her parent's friends.
"Couldn't sleep?" The woman asked.
"Um, yea, nightmares," Rebecca confessed, shifting her eyes down to the ground. The woman sauntered closer and took a seat in the opposing chair. She crossed her pale legs and reminded Rebecca of a model.
"Sinister ones?"
"Those are the easier ones," Rebecca noted the woman's arched eyebrows and pouty lips. Her hair was long and a bit of a mess, as she must have just gotten out of bed. Rebecca asked, "er, what's your name?"
"Emma Frost," The woman introduced herself. She rested her elbows on the chair's armrest and then leaned her chin on her hand. The woman had well-manicured, long nails. Then, she added, "The most powerful telepath alive. And you seem lost. Students aren't allowed out past curfew."
"I'm not a student," Rebecca retorted. The corner of Frost's lips perked into a small smile. She leaned back in the chair with a sigh. Emma Frost took in the sight of Rebecca for a moment and the stare was sharp. Rebecca shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she wondered if Emma Frost was reading her mind.
"Olivier sure seems intent on making you a student here," Emma spoke her words carefully while still staring at Rebecca with her sharp blue eyes.
"Are you readin' my mind?" Rebecca accused.
"No. No, I cannot," Emma Frost answered, "You have that same static in your mind. Just like Remy."
"What are you talkin' 'bout?"
"Oh, so it's not a conscious decision. Hm, interesting. I cannot read your mind. Your powers are blocking me. It creates this mental wall of static. For me, it is like trying to get an old TV to work. There's no picture,"
Rebecca brought a hand to her head and, when she touched it, there was a pain. It was all around her skull and not like a headache. Rebecca guessed it was from the injury she inflicted herself and wondered if, underneath her hair, if there would be a bruise. She had no idea about that aspect of her power. No one could read her mind.
"Hm, Olivier must like that," Emma Frost commented. Rebecca did not understand, but before she could ask Emma said, "You should get back to your room now. If I could, I'd use my power to just put you to sleep here and now."
"You can do that?" Rebecca was amazed. She had never met a telepath before, but she had heard of them. If this woman was telling the truth, then she was in the presence of the best telepath alive. Frost nodded.
"I can do many things," She said with a smirk.
"Can ya…get rid of memories?" Rebecca asked, thinking back to her time with Sinister.
"Easily,"
"What about…enhance memories? Or, like, bring 'em to…consciousness?" Rebecca had trouble find the right words to describe what she wanted. She tried to imagine what her mother's voice sounded like but could not make it out.
"Of course. Except not with you. The static prevents me from going into your mind, Darling. You would have to work on controlling that mental shield of yours. Which we could do here," Frost explained. She stood from her seat and walked away while swaying her hips. Rebecca crossed her arms and used the now empty chair as a footrest.
I bet mom didn't like her, Rebecca thought, as Emma Frost disappeared down the hallway. Rebecca wondered if Rogue were still here, if she would also be trying to get Rebecca to stay. Rebecca wondered what she would say to her mother if she had the chance. Would she apologize? Would she even be forgiven? Rebecca rubbed her tired eyes and found that she had tears in her eyes.
Rebecca ended up dragging her feet all the way back to the bedroom. Remy was still fast asleep as Rebecca crawled back into her bed. She wrapped herself in the blankets and hoped that the nightmares would stay away this time.
)0(
Rebecca woke up early, once again by a nightmare, but the sun was peaking out of the curtains on the window, so she decided that it was a fine time to get out of bed. Rebecca walked around the sleeping pile of blankets in the other bed and opened the door. To her surprise, Olivier was waiting in front of the door with an equally shocked expression on his face.
"Oh, hi. I was just coming to wake you. Want some pancakes?" Olivier asked and Rebecca thought that he had the warmest smile on his face. She agreed as she felt ravenous in the morning. She followed him through the institute all the way downstairs and into this grand dining room. All the while, making polite conversation. Olivier asked if she had slept well, and Rebecca did not mention that her sleep was plagued with nightmares.
The dining room was filled with sweet smells of breakfast. In the middle of the table, there were serving platters of silver dollar pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with jam, and fresh fruit. Rebecca's stomach growled at the sight. She could not tell if she saw Marissa, Julian, and Ben first or if they saw her first. Once their eyes met, Rebecca smiled, and she felt a bit self conscious of her sleepy state. It was still the weekend, so most of the students were still in their pajamas. However, Rebecca still quickly brushed her hair with her fingers and tossed it to one side when she noticed Julian was looking over at her.
"You should sit with your friends," Olivier offered. Rebecca gave him a puzzled look.
"Don't you want me to sit with you?" she asked.
"Nah, I'll find you afterwards," He answered. Olivier patted Rebecca's head and then left her there in the dinning room. She could not help but wonder if this was Olivier's plan. Marissa had gotten up from her seat and skipped over to Rebecca. She was wearing blue pajama pants and a grey hood.
"Come on, sit down. You gotta get your food fast around here!" Marissa was grabbing at Becca's hand and pulling her over. Julian pulled out a chair for her and Rebecca whispered her gratitude as she sat down in between him and Marissa. A plate and silverware were already set at her spot at the table. Rebecca reached across the table and grabbed at some of the pancakes and scooped up a spoonful of eggs when it was passed to her. The other students were wolfing down the food quickly. Ben had managed to stack a mountain of everything offered on his plate. Blueberries were rolling off his plate and onto the polished table. Rebecca did not speak until she managed to begin eating. The pancakes were light and fluffy. The syrup was sweet, and the eggs were warm. She was reminded that she had not had such a breakfast in almost two months. It was delightful. However, the food felt unsettled in her stomach. However, the taste was so good she did not stop.
"Is it always this crazy in the mornin's?" Rebecca asked, finishing off her scrambled eggs.
"Oh, yea," Marissa informed her, "We take shifts for meals. So, we get up earlier and have breakfast first. The older students get to sleep in and stay up later."
"Oh man, can't wait until we are seniors here! Then, we get to go on missions and stuff!" Ben exclaimed, with his mouth full of pancakes.
"We'll probably be part of the gold team," Julian said and when Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him, he explained further, "the main team chosen for missions. Only the best of the best."
"Oh. Is my brother on that team?" Rebecca asked. Olivier never talked much about going on missions himself for the x-men.
"No, but he's trying to work up to it," Marissa answered. Rebecca looked up around the room to see if her brother was close by. She could not find him in the ground of young mutants. However, in the doorway of the dinning room, Wolverine was leaning against the wall and staring at her with dark eyes. Rebecca quickly looked away, ducking her head low.
"What's up?" Julian asked her. Rebecca took another peak to find that Wolverine was still staring over at her. His eyebrows pulled down together and his mouth was in a frown, wrinkles deepening on his skin. Rebecca ducked down between her friends once again.
"That Wolverine guy looks pissed at me," Rebecca whispered. Ben took a quick glance and confirmed that Logan was indeed shooting daggers at them with his eyes. Rebecca sighed, "What's his problem with me?"
"Well, he was close with your mom. Maybe that's it?" Julian offered with a shrug. He looked up to find Wolverine still standing there, but he was no longer looking at them. Instead, he was looking just past them. Julian followed his stare but could not find what Wolverine might me staring at.
"He looks at everyone like that," Marissa whispered, "And he comes and goes often. He'll be gone by tomorrow. But he always leaves his daughter here."
"He has a daughter?" Rebecca asked. She could not imagine Wolverine being a family man. Then again, Rebecca thought, people say that about my Père.
"She's our age but is super weird. Doesn't talk to anyone," Marissa explained. She looked over at the doorway and watched Wolverine turn and leave. Marissa nudged Rebecca with her elbow lightly. Rebecca took a look for herself to confirm that Wolverine had left. She breathed a sigh of relief. Marissa added, "Which is why it's great you are here! A girlfriend that isn't weird."
"Laura's not that bad," Julian argued. Rebecca felt a strange twinge when Julian made that comment. As fast as the feeling came, it was gone, and she quickly forgot about it. Rebecca leaned back in her chair as the feeling of being full to bursting after that breakfast. She smiled to herself.
"The food was delicious," She commented
"Isn't it? The chef that works here is a mutant that has four arms! That's how he makes so much dang food," Ben laughed, "He could be called Spiderman if he went on missions!"
"Spiders have eight arms, dumbass," Julian joked. Rebecca and Marissa laughed.
)0(
Rebecca had almost forgotten about the event that was to take place today. When Olivier met up with her after breakfast, he suggested that Marissa help her find something to wear. Since all of Rebecca's clothes were still in Louisiana, she was forced to borrow all that she needed. Marissa was happy to help and rushed Rebecca off to her room to try on clothes. Marissa's room was small and decorated with band posters and Vinyl record covers. She did own an old styled Vinyl player that Rebecca had to work hard not to touch. Marissa had a few plain black dresses for Rebecca to try on. The two were the same height but Marissa filled out the dresses a more than Rebecca did. She decided to go with an A-line dress with a keyhole back. No one could see the back because it was cold outside, and Rebecca would have to wear a jacket. Rebecca stared at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair. Her green eyes seemed to be more striking than usual in this lighting.
"You're pretty," Marissa complimented, standing behind Rebecca. She was wearing a black wrap dress with a charcoal shawl. Her hair was tied up in a short ponytail. Rebecca mumbled a quick response and then tucked the white strand behind her ear. Marissa asked, "How do you feel?"
"I dunno. Not sure how I'm supposed to feel," Rebecca admitted. Marissa moved to sit on the edge of her bed, that was still messy from the night before. Rebecca found that Marissa reminded her of the warm spring sun. There was something comforting about her presence.
"Do you want to stay here?" Marissa asked. Rebecca did not answer right away. Instead, she continued to study her own face. Her skin looked awfully pale. Marissa added a quick, "You can answer honestly."
"I…I do but it's not…convenient right now. I got an aunt and an uncle. Friends and a dance team back in N'Awlins…they probably all thought I was dead. I gotta go back. Do…do you understand?" Rebecca said. She moved to sit on the bed next to Marissa and kept her hands in her lap.
"Yea. Sometimes…I miss my sister. You see, I have an older sister and we lived with our grandparents. When my powers came…well, my grandparents are real religious and old fashioned. It was…hard living with them. Once my sister got her license, they bought her car. She was always the golden child, real spoiled by them. And she drove me here. Dropped me off," Marissa said, as she stared off as if in a daydream, "I miss her sometimes. We used to text but then she stopped. Guess she didn't want our grandparents finding out. I wouldn't like to leave the institute. Julian and Ben are like my family now, but I wonder about her."
"Even if I don't stay, we can still be friends," Rebecca said. She smiled at Marissa, who returned it, and then added a quick translation to French, "Mon amie."
"Your French is cool," Marissa complimented and then stood up with an outstretched hand, "Come on, we have somewhere to be."
)0(
Olivier was wearing a black suit and it made him look taller. Rebecca wanted to stay by his side, but everyone was coming up to talk to him. All of those who Rebecca met earlier than even more people. They all wore sad expressions and told Olivier that they were sorry. She watched them come to him one by one. A few approached her, but Rebecca did not know what to say. She tried to copy Olivier and tell them that she was glad to be there with everyone. Her words came out insincere and she was unable to determine if they could see through her lies. Olivier shook their hands, looking them in the eye, and this was something that Rebecca could not bring herself to do.
These people were strangers and they were at a funeral for her mother, who had turned into a stranger herself. Rebecca may not have wanted to be rude, but she did want to tell everyone that she did not want to talk to them. Instead, Rebecca stayed beside her father. Very few people talked to him. Together, they stayed in the corner of the crowd. However, Rebecca found that standing beside her father felt somehow more depressing than the strangers who were tearing up. Remy was not crying this time. He kept his head down. He was dressed in all black but kept his trench coat on with the collar popped. If his hand was not in his pocket, then it was holding Rebecca's hand. His grip was so tight that Rebecca could only assume that this gesture was for him and not her.
They gathered in the front yard of the Institute. Rogue had accumulated a large crowd. Most were in tears before they left the front yard. In a group that was led by Olivier, they walked on the property and up a nearby hill. Rebecca had not noticed. There were quite a few tombstones that marked previously deceased X-men. One in particular was large and the flowers still looked fresh. Rebecca craned her neck to see the name on the stone. Charles Xavier. Rebecca mentally kicked herself for not assuming that Professor X would have gotten the large tombstone with a picture of himself carved into it. Plastic chairs and been set up and everyone took their seats. Rebecca took one of the chairs, but her father did not sit down. This earned him a few strange looks from the others, but no one spoke about it.
Rogue's coffin was closed. Rebecca was half disappointed and half pleased. Would she have wanted to see her mother's dead body? Perhaps to confirm that it was indeed her and to check on what she looked like when she had died. Then again, the thought was chilling and unpleasant. The coffin was shiny and made from dark wood. A wreath of red roses lay on top. A picture of her mother had been enlarged and placed next to the coffin so everyone could look upon her face one last time.
Rogue was smiling. Her lips were ruby red, and her teeth were bright white. Her long hair framed her face in tight curls. Rebecca stared at the photo for a long time, comparing it to her memories. She had misremembered what her mother's nose looked like. She had assumed it was a button nose, very feminine, but it had different curve to it. Rebecca decided that she still looked very beautiful in the photo.
One by one, someone stepped up to make a speech about Rogue. Each monologue was short and to the point. There was a line of others waiting for their turn and Rebecca imagined it must have been very nerve-wracking to speak in front of a crowd that almost silent, except for the soft cries. Rebecca did not listen to much of what these strangers were saying. Most were repeating themselves. Rogue was brave and strong. She was kind and loving. All these wonderful adjectives to describe her. Rebecca felt that it was too sweet. It was turning bitter. No one mentioned how she had died searching for a daughter who barely knew her. Rebecca stared out at the crowd of sad faces and got the need to escape. Olivier was wiping at his own eyes.
Back home, funerals are parties. People have parades for the dead and play music down the streets. Not like this, Rebecca thought to herself. Rebecca thought her mother would have rather had the party.
Eventually, the ceremony ended with Olivier's speech. He described a time in which he was a young boy trying to determine his mutant powers, the same ones as his mother. He claimed that he was guide for him and it inspired him to do good in the world. Rebecca felt the sour taste of envy in her mouth when hearing of Olivier's story. Even though, she could admit that she had a similar experience with her father. They had bonded greatly over having the same powers. Olivier ended with wishing his mother rest.
Everyone began to disperse. Many walked up to Olivier once more before departing. Back down the hill, the crowd traveled often in smaller groups of their own. A mutant with telekinetic powers gently lowered the coffin into the rectangular hole in the ground. Rebecca had not cried the whole time listening to everyone else's stories and she had not cried when seeing her brother cry. There was just something about that large box disappearing into the ground that broke something inside her. Rebecca covered her mouth as to not make any noise. She cried and Remy quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulder. After everyone had left, only Rebecca, Olivier, and Remy remained on that hill. Olivier was staring down into the hole and was silent. Rebecca and Remy sat beside each other. Remy was hugging Rebecca tightly and whispering songs into her ear.
Rebecca cannot remember how long they stayed there or if there was any signal from either of them to finally leave the private graveyard, but inevitably they walked back down the grassy hill. Rebecca held onto Remy's hand the whole way back. She could not help but feel unsettled. Funerals are for the living not the dead. This was a chance to say goodbye, but Rebecca felt as if that was not what had happened. The feeling stirred inside of her the whole way back to the Institute.
"We should return those clothes ya borrowed now. Before we leave," Remy said to Rebecca as they stepped onto the front porch of the school. Rebecca looked up at large, heavy entrance to the building.
"I want to stay," She spoke, loudly and without much thought. The words left her before she realized that they were her own.
"What?" Both Remy and Olivier questioned in unison. Olivier had a slight smile on his face, even though his eyes were red from crying. Remy's face was reddening in an angry way. Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I want to stay here. At the Institute," She explained.
)0(
So, I'm a fan of x-men obviously but I am not an avid comic reader. Plus, marvel comics can get all kinds of confusing with alternate timelines and such. I have general knowledge of the reality in which Rebecca and Olivier exist. And I tend to stick to what I know is cannon. However, I am gonna change some stuff for fun. Just warning all those fans out there that may be confused by my decisions later on.
Thank you for reading! I appreciate all the encouragement. I hope you have a wonderful day.
-Kit