Part five. My creative juices are flowing, and just by saying that, I'm probably cursing them. :) I'm hoping to add more to this tomorrow, maybe even tonight if I get any bright ideas. :)
I'm not that familiar with the histories of all the X-Men, so I'm making assumptions and winging it from what I've learned by reading other fan fics. Any mistakes I've made, please let me know. :)
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. :)
Disclaimers in part one.
~`~`~`~
After Ebony had been sedated and put safely into a private room in the lab, there was a conference in the professor's office as to how they should proceed with the situation.
Ororo didn't quite know what to make of it. She knew the circumstances could get worse, how much worse, she didn't know. She felt bad for the girl. Though she barely knew Ebony, her heart went out to the young mutant. The young girl didn't deserve to have to worry about controlling all the powers she had; no one did. She herself had to be careful with her powers. She was always in control of her emotions, no matter how angry she was, or how sad she was, or how distraught. One little slip of her carefully obtained control could prove disastrous. At one time just the knowledge of the way she had to control her powers was dangerous enough, and she hadn't handled it all that well. She was surprised, however, that the girl was as hospitable as she was considering all she had been through. What she remembers anyway, Ororo thought.
Jean was confused. In all her years of medicine, she'd never seen or even heard of anything like this. She'd never heard of a drug that could control a mutant's powers should the being not be able to control, or could not be trained to control, the powers by themselves. If such a drug did in fact exist, many mutants would be helped. Rogue and Scott came to her mind instantly. She was excited at the thought of being able to help the two of them. She scolded herself. She knew better then to get excited over the possibility of something. However, if such a drug did exist, it was the only solution she saw of helping Ebony. Right now, she had no other ideas, not even far-fetched ones that she could sometimes come up with in the far corners of her imaginative and artistic mind.
Scott was pessimistic about the whole thing. He doubted such a drug existed. He had long since given up hope at ever being able to view the world as a normal being, or normal mutant, if there was such a thing. To him, everything was red-tinted. His glasses didn't cloud his judgement as they did his vision. He was always one to be counted on in the heat of the moment; he took great pride in that fact. Some called him heartless, strict. That was what he let them think. He'd been hurt enough times in his life that he was going to do everything within his ability and more to help anyone and everyone he cared about to keep them from feeling even a thousandth of the pain he'd felt in his lifetime. So he let them think him cold, unfeeling. If he was overly cautious, so be it. It was that over-protectiveness that had saved his friends, or family as he viewed them, more than once. Besides, it was his nature to step back and examine everything very carefully before making a decision. He wouldn't let this situation be any different.
Professor Charles Xavior was open-minded to the situation. He'd heard rumors of such a drug, and such testing on young mutants. He'd even heard of mutants being created artificially, as he guessed was the case with young Ebony. He had a feeling that in actuality she was only a few years old, her age advanced artificially, as artificially as he suspected she had been created. He considered what she had said about a mutant taking care of her, it was a possibility; at this point anything was a possibility. After he learned what the others thought, he was going to use Cererbro to see if her mutant caretaker existed. What she had told him was less information that he would have preferred, but he'd found mutants on less. If he found this mystery mutant, maybe he could even find where she had escaped. Anything's a possible, he thought to himself.
Logan was furious. He had never really come to terms with what had been done to him. Though his claws had their advantages sometimes, he still failed to see how the damned Adamantium throughout his body accomplished. What infuriated him even more was the fact that he had been experimented on in a military camp in Canada. Ebony had a southern accent. Is the military base that had experimented on her in the US?, he wondered. Nowhere in Canada, to his knowledge at least, had an accent like that. Her accent was too close to the resident southern belle, Rogue. Damn them!, he thought. He could only imagine the pain and suffering Ebony had endured. Lord knows, he'd had more than his fair share, and he just had his claws. She had his claws in more. He was convinced all of her mutations were artificial, save maybe the telekinesis, telepathy, or healing ability. When he stopped to contemplate what the girl had been through, his blood boiled. For that reason, he tried not to think of what she had been through, and just help her. After the last time he'd thought about it, he swore not to do it again, for when he'd thought about it, his rage had taken over him. The next thing he'd known, he'd cut down a few trees and destroyed them to pieces. Firewood for winter. Not too soon to stock up, he thought with his twisted humor.
"So what're we gonna do?" he asked, breaking the silence and drawing everyone out of their inner thoughts.
"I can get to work in the lab and see if I can come up with anything to have any effect on dampening the strength of her powers," Jean thought out loud.
"That could take years," Scott said, his arms crossed across his muscular chest, his brow furrowed in thought. Logan scowled at him; Scott ignored him.
"I'm going to attempt to find the mutant she spoke of with Cererbro," Charles said.
"That's a long shot as well," Scott said. "We don't know that such a mutant exists. She could have been hallucinating."
"Another show of support from red eye," Logan muttered. He ignored the look he felt Scott give him.
"We can't keep her sedated forever," Ororo said.
"That's why we gotta hurry," Logan said, popping his claws in frustration. He retracted them, knowing he'd proved his point.
"I don't hear you suggesting anything, Logan," Scott said.
"Professor, Jean, is there any way you could get into her mind and shut down whatever's causing the overload of strength to her powers?" Ororo asked, ignoring the other men in the room until they started to talk reasonably.
The professor and Jean exchanged a look. Everyone could tell they were talking to each other with their minds.
"I could try it," the professor said. "As a last resort, though. After last night's performance, I don't want to try to get into her head. It might prove too dangerous. And even if it was safe, there's no guarantee that I could find what's causing this. She's bound to have shields, considering her strength as a telepath."
"So she's screwed?" Logan asked, his anger obvious in every word. When no one said anything, he persisted. "She's screwed, right? All this damn fancy gizmos ya got, and ya can't save 'er?"
"It's not that simple, Logan," Jean began. Logan cut her off with a wave of his hand and stormed out the door. There were trees to be cut down. And maybe a bike to steal…again.
To be continued…
I'm not that familiar with the histories of all the X-Men, so I'm making assumptions and winging it from what I've learned by reading other fan fics. Any mistakes I've made, please let me know. :)
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. :)
Disclaimers in part one.
~`~`~`~
After Ebony had been sedated and put safely into a private room in the lab, there was a conference in the professor's office as to how they should proceed with the situation.
Ororo didn't quite know what to make of it. She knew the circumstances could get worse, how much worse, she didn't know. She felt bad for the girl. Though she barely knew Ebony, her heart went out to the young mutant. The young girl didn't deserve to have to worry about controlling all the powers she had; no one did. She herself had to be careful with her powers. She was always in control of her emotions, no matter how angry she was, or how sad she was, or how distraught. One little slip of her carefully obtained control could prove disastrous. At one time just the knowledge of the way she had to control her powers was dangerous enough, and she hadn't handled it all that well. She was surprised, however, that the girl was as hospitable as she was considering all she had been through. What she remembers anyway, Ororo thought.
Jean was confused. In all her years of medicine, she'd never seen or even heard of anything like this. She'd never heard of a drug that could control a mutant's powers should the being not be able to control, or could not be trained to control, the powers by themselves. If such a drug did in fact exist, many mutants would be helped. Rogue and Scott came to her mind instantly. She was excited at the thought of being able to help the two of them. She scolded herself. She knew better then to get excited over the possibility of something. However, if such a drug did exist, it was the only solution she saw of helping Ebony. Right now, she had no other ideas, not even far-fetched ones that she could sometimes come up with in the far corners of her imaginative and artistic mind.
Scott was pessimistic about the whole thing. He doubted such a drug existed. He had long since given up hope at ever being able to view the world as a normal being, or normal mutant, if there was such a thing. To him, everything was red-tinted. His glasses didn't cloud his judgement as they did his vision. He was always one to be counted on in the heat of the moment; he took great pride in that fact. Some called him heartless, strict. That was what he let them think. He'd been hurt enough times in his life that he was going to do everything within his ability and more to help anyone and everyone he cared about to keep them from feeling even a thousandth of the pain he'd felt in his lifetime. So he let them think him cold, unfeeling. If he was overly cautious, so be it. It was that over-protectiveness that had saved his friends, or family as he viewed them, more than once. Besides, it was his nature to step back and examine everything very carefully before making a decision. He wouldn't let this situation be any different.
Professor Charles Xavior was open-minded to the situation. He'd heard rumors of such a drug, and such testing on young mutants. He'd even heard of mutants being created artificially, as he guessed was the case with young Ebony. He had a feeling that in actuality she was only a few years old, her age advanced artificially, as artificially as he suspected she had been created. He considered what she had said about a mutant taking care of her, it was a possibility; at this point anything was a possibility. After he learned what the others thought, he was going to use Cererbro to see if her mutant caretaker existed. What she had told him was less information that he would have preferred, but he'd found mutants on less. If he found this mystery mutant, maybe he could even find where she had escaped. Anything's a possible, he thought to himself.
Logan was furious. He had never really come to terms with what had been done to him. Though his claws had their advantages sometimes, he still failed to see how the damned Adamantium throughout his body accomplished. What infuriated him even more was the fact that he had been experimented on in a military camp in Canada. Ebony had a southern accent. Is the military base that had experimented on her in the US?, he wondered. Nowhere in Canada, to his knowledge at least, had an accent like that. Her accent was too close to the resident southern belle, Rogue. Damn them!, he thought. He could only imagine the pain and suffering Ebony had endured. Lord knows, he'd had more than his fair share, and he just had his claws. She had his claws in more. He was convinced all of her mutations were artificial, save maybe the telekinesis, telepathy, or healing ability. When he stopped to contemplate what the girl had been through, his blood boiled. For that reason, he tried not to think of what she had been through, and just help her. After the last time he'd thought about it, he swore not to do it again, for when he'd thought about it, his rage had taken over him. The next thing he'd known, he'd cut down a few trees and destroyed them to pieces. Firewood for winter. Not too soon to stock up, he thought with his twisted humor.
"So what're we gonna do?" he asked, breaking the silence and drawing everyone out of their inner thoughts.
"I can get to work in the lab and see if I can come up with anything to have any effect on dampening the strength of her powers," Jean thought out loud.
"That could take years," Scott said, his arms crossed across his muscular chest, his brow furrowed in thought. Logan scowled at him; Scott ignored him.
"I'm going to attempt to find the mutant she spoke of with Cererbro," Charles said.
"That's a long shot as well," Scott said. "We don't know that such a mutant exists. She could have been hallucinating."
"Another show of support from red eye," Logan muttered. He ignored the look he felt Scott give him.
"We can't keep her sedated forever," Ororo said.
"That's why we gotta hurry," Logan said, popping his claws in frustration. He retracted them, knowing he'd proved his point.
"I don't hear you suggesting anything, Logan," Scott said.
"Professor, Jean, is there any way you could get into her mind and shut down whatever's causing the overload of strength to her powers?" Ororo asked, ignoring the other men in the room until they started to talk reasonably.
The professor and Jean exchanged a look. Everyone could tell they were talking to each other with their minds.
"I could try it," the professor said. "As a last resort, though. After last night's performance, I don't want to try to get into her head. It might prove too dangerous. And even if it was safe, there's no guarantee that I could find what's causing this. She's bound to have shields, considering her strength as a telepath."
"So she's screwed?" Logan asked, his anger obvious in every word. When no one said anything, he persisted. "She's screwed, right? All this damn fancy gizmos ya got, and ya can't save 'er?"
"It's not that simple, Logan," Jean began. Logan cut her off with a wave of his hand and stormed out the door. There were trees to be cut down. And maybe a bike to steal…again.
To be continued…