X-Men Fanfiction: It's All In The Blood
Note: This is my first X-Men fanfiction so please don't judge. This is a sort of fuse between X-Men: Last Stand and X-Men: Apocalypse. I don't what the heck I'm doing as I haven't watched all the films yet, but enjoy the story!
Contains infrequent bad language.
Chapter One: Noises in the Roof
Scratch, scritch. Scratch. Tap… tap-tap-tap.
"What's that?" The blonde-haired girl looked up from the board. Poppy had come over to Mike's house earlier that morning, and she and Mike had been playing Monopoly for over an hour now, with Mike's mother as the banker.
"It's nothing," Mike answered, moving his dog-shaped piece six places to the right and groaning theatrically as he landed on one of Poppy's properties. Poppy gave him a look and he reluctantly handed over the required amount in brightly coloured paper money.
Scratch, scratch.
The scratching from above them sounded again, nagging and insistent. Poppy looked up again as she moved her car-shaped piece. "Mike, is it rats? I hate rats."
Mike looked up as well. "Mum, we don't have rats, do we?"
His mother looked up. Her face was uncharacteristically pale. 'No, Michael, it's not rats. I… I'll have a look up there when Poppy's gone home."
Poppy grinned as she landed on 'Chance', and triumphantly picked up a card from the higgledy-piggledy pile that Mike had dropped on the place when the game had started.
"It's 'Get Out Of Jail Free'! I'm saving this one," she gloated.
"Just hurry up and give me the dice," Mike grumbled.
Scratch, scratch. Scritch, scritch, scree- atch.
Tap… tap-tap… tap.
When the front door had closed behind the grinning Poppy (she'd won the game of Monopoly and would, no doubt, be gloating continuously to her mother all the long drive home), Mike's mother turned to him, smiled, and told him to go and sort out the table for dinner.
When Mike was safely out of earshot, she called up the stairs to her husband:
"Roland, dear, would you come down?"
The usual protests as he stopped working at his computer greeted her before her long-suffering husband made his way down the stairs.
"What is it, Helen?" he asked wearily.
Helen wrung her hands. "It's… you know… her again."
Roland's face instantly hardened into an implacable, impassive mask. "You know what to tell Michael, Helen. It's… owls or crows or something. And that way, we are keeping the mind of our child pure."
Helen nodded, agreeing like she always did. She would go up to the attic tonight, she decided. She hadn't been up there in months.
It was only Roland who ventured to the attic with the thin whip he kept on top of the cabinet in his office.
"Go and make dinner, Helen." Roland said softly.
Helen retreated, still wringing her hands and, in her head, she was whimpering like a dog that had been kicked.
In the attic, something opened its eyes and hissed.
Roland brought the whip down.
"Bad – girl – you – don't – do – that – when – guests – are – here, do you?" With every word, he brought the whip down on the girl's back. She hissed, writhing, pulling against the ropes that were tight around her wrists. The thick leather-and-metal harness that was strapped across her back and chest strained and stretched as she writhed.
"Stop – you – bastard –" She hissed, trying to lash out at him. Roland struck her across the face with the whip and she reeled back, blood smeared across her features, obscuring them. She knew what to do now – if she faked unconsciousness, Roland would leave her alone and go back downstairs to help with dinner. She made her body go limp and her head loll against her chest. Roland half-snorted, muttering something about mutant weaklings. He crossed to the hatch, opened it, and left the attic via the folding ladder.
"Jay?" Helen. Her mother. She looked up as the hatch opened again. Helen looked as if she'd been crying.
Her mother untied her and let Jay fall to the floor. She was bruised, bloody, and exhausted. She often had trouble sleeping and was uncomfortable with the harness that Roland had forced on her when Jay's mutant ability had manifested; the harness had been rubbing recently as well, as she'd grown almost too large for it and Roland had ever taken it off, not even to replace or clean it.
'Mum – take – off – harness –" Jay managed to say, feeling the contraption tighten in response to her back flexing, sending pain lancing through her body. Helen scurried over to her and began struggling with the straps and buckles.
"I can't, Jay. I'm sorry – I think it needs a key."
"A key?" Jay remembered seeing a shining jagged key swinging down from her father's neck as he bent down towards her. "He's got it."
"I know, darling, I'll try and get it off him, okay?" Helen touched her face, seeming a little scared. Jay cursed inside her head – everybody was scared of her except Mike, who wasn't even aware of her existence.
Jay smiled, rubbing her wrists. Smile for your mother, she thought, smile like a good girl, smile to make her happy.
"Thanks, mum."
Helen smiled back. "I'll get you dinner, Jay. Be back in an hour, so you get some rest while I'm gone."
Jay relaxed onto her little bed and felt the harness jarring against her shoulder blades and digging into her flesh. She couldn't relax, not properly, with that thing on her back, restraining her, trapping her.
Hurry up with that key, Mum, she thought, trying to feel calm. Somehow, much later, she managed to sleep.
Helen stayed up late, looking through her computer files. Then a notification popped up at one corner of the screen:
Message from Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters – Delete/Reply
Feeling like she was diving head-first into uncharted, dangerous waters, Helen clicked on the message.
It read as follows:
Mrs Farley,
It has come to my attention that your daughter, Jay Farley, has a genetic mutation that is commonly know as the X-Gene, a most peculiar genetic phenomenon that all mutants possess. If it is agreeable to your household, I and a group of my students would like to visit your house in order to meet Miss Farley. If she wishes, she may take a place at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters, although I will not be offended if she wishes to remain with her family.
Please send me the closest date available via the attached email address as well as an answer to my request.
Kind Regards,
Professor C. Xavier, Founder of Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters.
Helen slowly began to digest the contents of the message, the two impossible requests. Would Jay be able to escape the house once and for all? Would the fabled Professor Xavier come?
As quickly as possible, Helen typed a hasty reply, trying to explain that her husband would be at best apoplectic and at worst profoundly violent to be told this, and that she would try to arrange a day out for him and Mike so that the Professor and his students could visit in private. When she finally pressed return, Helen felt more defiant than she had ever had in her life.
"Bye dear!" Helen called as Mike and Roland got into the car the next morning, all ready to drive away for a few hours.
It was only a few minutes after they had backed out of the drive when she heard the smooth wheels of a wheelchair on the pavement, followed by several pairs of footsteps coming down the road.
The professor had arrived, along with Logan, Scott, Ororo, and Jean. Hank McCoy also followed them, his blue skin and hair instantly recognisable. The little group were better known as Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm and Beast, as Jean did not have a professional name.
"Come in," Helen said, flustered, not sure how to act. She hurriedly opened the door wide so that Charles's chair could get through. Ororo and Jean smiled at her while Scott and Hank offered respectful nods.
They settled themselves in the living room and, as soon as they had all sat down and Helen had offered them tea (which they'd accepted), Charles spoke.
"Mrs Farley, I am Charles Xavier, and these are my colleagues and students: Jean, Scott, Ororo, Logan, and my old friend Doctor Hank McCoy." He gestured to each person as he mentioned their names.
Helen nodded, her mug of tea trembling in her hand. "I-I'm Helen."
Ororo gave her a warm smile and Helen partly relaxed.
"And where is the child?" Charles asked. "I was expecting her to be waiting."
Helen' hands began the familiar routine of wringing. "Ah, that may be, ah, a small problem. You see… she's… upstairs."
Charles swore under his breath. Since the loss of the use of his legs, stairs had been a particular nemesis of his. Scott helped him up and Jean carefully lifted him through the opened hatch using her telekinetic ability.
Please come up, the Professor told them, shock clear in his thoughts even though he was attempting to keep calm. Gingerly, Jean made her way up the ladder first, then Ororo, Scott, Hank, and finally Logan, who had been his usual brooding self for the past week.
"Oh, God above," Jean whispered. "What has he done to her?" The others piled into the attic space to see what her exclamation had been caused by.
Jay was sitting on her bed, wearing a grey hoodie with the hood pulled up to obscure her features with shadow. Her back was oddly hunched and seemed to have more of a hump that was normal.
"Jay?" Helen said tentatively. The girl raised her head but didn't lower her hood, meaning she was distrustful, wary, like a predator trapped in a cage.
Her eyes were sunk deep in her sockets and glowed a soft amber colour in the monochrome light that nervously crept through the dirt-caked windows of the attic. Her pupils were a little like a cat's, although not too much to be entirely noticeable.
She held Charles's stare for what seemed like a century.
"Have you come to get rid of me?" she whispered finally. Jay didn't sound scared or angry, just resigned.
Charles inched forwards; was he nervous? "No, Jay. We're from a school."
Jay laughed bitterly. "You're lying."
I am not lying. Jay gasped as Charles spoke inside her head. Jay. Can you answer this for me? Do you trust me?
"I –"
Think your answer and I will hear it.
I've learnt not to trust anyone much. Apart from Mum, and I've never met Mike. My brother, you know.
"Thank you, Jay," Charles reverted to speaking with such suddenness that Jay jerked in surprise. Charles continued:
"My school is for people like you, people who are gifted. There, they learn not only to use their abilities, but to control them as well, and that's the most important thing about us. If we lose control, we lose everything. Jay. I know that you've been through a lot -" Jay raised an eyebrow.
"A lot?" She interrupted. "You mean my father has put this –" she shifted her back, "on me, and whipped me and beaten me and locked me away from the world, and that's only a lot?"
Charles looked at her with melancholy, understanding and concerned eyes. "Jay, you are not the only one who had been abused because of their ability."
"I know. But it still hurts."
Charles nodded. "I understand. It may stop in time, though."
Jay shifted again, her hands fisted at her sides then coming together in her lap and mimicking Helen's trademark wringing motion. "You mean if I come to this… school of yours."
Charles nodded again. "Please, Jay. You'll be happier there."
Jay stood up abruptly, although her back was still hunched over a little. "I'll come. Just let me pack a few things. Some books and stuff."
"Of course."
Helen scurried up to her daughter, holding out a small backpack. Jay shoved a couple of books into it, along with a few pencils, paints, and a sketchbook, and a few clothes.
"There," she said. "I'm ready to leave."
She held the bag in one hand instead of hoisting it onto her back as she followed Charles, Jean, Scott, Ororo, Logan and Hank back downstairs, Charles with the help of Jean again.
Ororo took the girl's hand as she stumbled on the ladder, then helped them down with a gust of wind and set them gently on the floor as the remainder of the outlandish weather pattern dissipated.
Jay was smiling for the first time in years. "Thanks, Ororo," she said, wanting to scramble up the ladder again and come back down just to enjoy the feeling of half-falling and half-flying all over again.
Helen stood at the front door as she watched her daughter leaving. She was both smiling and tearful, clutching a tissue in one hand as the camouflaged jet faded into the visible spectrum in front of her.
Looking rather nervous, Jay climbed inside. She had never flown before, and had never actually seen even a plane before.
"Ororo," she whispered, "We are going to the school, right?"
Ororo smiled. "You'll see, little one. Just don't be sick on the flight."
Jay gasped and clung to her seat as the jet lifted into the air under Ororo's careful guidance.
"It's fine, kid," Logan muttered from the seat across from her. "We'll be up in a sec and it'll be fine."
"Uh-huh," Jay said, still clinging to the arms of her seat. She hadn't taken down her hood yet, so only her amber-coloured eyes were visible.
"As much as I'm probably going to regret this later," Jean told her from the seat next to Jay, "trust Logan. It's fine."
Jay was still hunched up in her seat, restrained by the harness and the seatbelt that Jean had fastened for her. "Uh-huh," she muttered again. "So what's the school like?"
"Any other secondary school, except more dangerous," Jean laughed.
"I've never been to secondary school," Jay said nervously. "Is that bad?"
Everybody went very quiet. They hadn't suspected for a moment that Jay had been incarcerated in the attic for that long.
"You can read and write, can't you, Jay?" Jay nodded. "And you're good at art?" Jean asked.
"Yes. But I'm not so good at maths. Terrible, in fact." Jay laughed ruefully. "And not because I haven't practised, I have, I'm just terrible at it."
"We can fix that," Jean reassured her. "Lessons are just a few of the things we do at school."
"Will Mr Xavier help me?" Jay asked. "I mean… will he help me out of my harness? It needs a key and my dad's got it."
"That'll be easy for Jean, kid," Logan said, "She'll rip that apart key or no key."
Jay smiled, showing teeth that were slightly crooked, raised her hands and took her hood down.
All of the mutants around her were used to the many and varied faces of the mutant community, but little changes in their expressions nevertheless signified surprise at Jay's appearance.
Jay's skin had a suggestion of scales to it and it was tinged deep crimson around the edges of her face; she didn't have noticeably high cheekbones, as they were probably exaggerated due to the hollowness of her cheeks. Other than the red, her skin was light brown. Her hair was straight and an unremarkable dark brown, dyed with a single red streak and cut so that it brushed her shoulders, which were hunched over from the weight on her back. Her ears tapered to slight points.
Logan and Scott tried not to stare. Jay was pretty, not overly so, not compared to Mystique or Pixie or Storm, but still pretty. The slightly pointed ears were strangely endearing, and made her seem younger.
Jay crossed her arms, and winced as her fingers brushed the network of harness straps that laced tightly across her chest. The straps, both across her chest and back, had been tight enough to cut into her for a while now, and were beginning to create deep blue-and-black bruising.
"Jay…" Jean whispered. She'd seen the jerking movements of Jay's shoulders, the hunched shape of her back, and, coupled with the harness, that could only mean one thing. Jean felt white-hot anger rising like a phoenix inside her – even she hadn't imagined anything like this – depriving one of one's own ability.
"Tell Ororo to speed up, Jean," Charles told her. "We need to get that thing off Jay as soon as possible."
Hank and Jean were examining Jay in the lab. They'd taken a blood sample and had then let the girl ask her bottled-up questions, of which there weren't many. First:
"Are you going to get this thing off me or not?"
"Fine, fine," Hank said, still analysing the results of the tests that he'd run on Jay's blood sample. "You've waited long enough."
Jean concentrated.
The metal and leather burst apart, the straps disintegrating, the metal hissing as it heated up beyond tolerance. Jean had been expecting the girl's wings to unfold in the dramatic way that Warren's had, but they didn't.
Jay slowly straightened up. "What do they look like?" she whispered, meaning her wings.
Jean and Hank looked – Jean gasped and Hank swore under his breath. Jay's wings had once been dragon-like, but were now creased, twisted, almost deformed, having been restrained and forced inside a too-small harness for years. Bruising and scars littered the skin and the veins lacing through it, and several bones all through the wings had been dislocated and possibly broken.
"That's not going to heal." The sentence slipped out of Hank's mouth before he could stop it.
Jay nodded, resigned. She wouldn't cry, not yet. "Thought so." She reached over her shoulder, feeling the ruined muscle and skin, touching the bones and wincing as her fingers brushed the mottled blue-black bruising.
Suddenly a young girl walked through the wall, giggling hysterically. She had wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Kitty Pryde looked around the room, realised what was happening, and the flood of giggles stopped almost immediately mid-laugh.
"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know –" Kitty's hurried apology was cut short as she saw the damage to Jay's wings. "What happened?"
Jean introduced them. Kitty tentatively stepped forwards and touched the scarred skin and flesh with trembling fingers. Jay winced, turned and grabbed the girl's wrist with incredible speed, throwing Kitty against the wall with such force that Kitty didn't have time to phase through it and instead slumped against it, unconscious.
"Don't touch me," Jay hissed. "Nobody touches my wings."
"Calm down, Jay," Jean said, not daring to come near the girl. Hank bent over Kitty, checking the girl's pulse and the swelling lump on the back of Kitty's skull.
"She'll have a concussion, but no serious damage. It seems that you are stronger than you look, young lady."
"But I'm nothing without my wings. What's the point of a mutation like mine when it's been ruined like this?"
Hank stopped examining Kitty, given that the girl was in a stable condition, turning to Jay. " We just need to find a mutant with the ability to heal you."
First chapter up! I hope you liked it, and thankyou for reading! Please review! Katie Trillion xx