Fallen Hero
by Belladonna
Could you be forced to do something you'd never do in your life?
It was dark on this night and the mansion was shrouded in a silvery
shine by the light of the full moon. Actually everything seemed peaceful, but
in the distance already the rumbling of thunder could be heard, a thunder that
was the herald of a storm which should rise soon.
In the mansion itself everything was peaceful and all the windows were
dark, not a single light shining in them which meant that the inhabitants
either were sleeping already or weren't at home. And on this night both had
been the case in the mansion in Westchester, that was the home of the school
for the gifted but nonetheless not everyone there had gone to bed.
In the study on the first floor sat a man. He sat there in the dark and
silently looked outside into the night, up to the moon and he was deeply sunken
into his thoughts, far away from the world that surrounded him. In his mind and
thoughts he was free and not restrained by the heavy chains that bound him onto
his wheel chair, he had to sit in since a severe injury that had cost him the
use of his legs years ago.
The pale moonlight mirrored itself on his bald head and his blue eyes,
so awake were directed into the far distance. In the back of his head he heard
the faint buzzing of the thoughts and dreams of the inhabitants of the mansion,
the background noise of the many minds in the house he never managed to
completely shut out from his own. But he didn't want to do that because for him
it had become an addition to his own, like his own and in the silence of the
study he often listened to them, the background buzzing of all these minds of
the people who had become like a family for him and to whom he had always given
one.
In the far distance the thunder growled louder and had come quite closer
to the huge mansion.
It was dark in the entrance hall of the mansion when the heavy door
opened with a silent creaking sound and closed again. A person stood inside the
darkness and looked around. It was a man, his clothing dark and he looked
around himself. But he was not searching, because he knew exactly where he had to go, he knew his destination and
what he had to do, once he'd reached it. Determined he looked out for his way
and went directly to the study.
Professor Charles Xavier could sense that something wasn't right, the
buzzing in the back of his mind had become a bit unruly just like the weather
outside. He turned his head around and glanced into the darkness of the room to
find out more. As he slightly scanned the mansion grounds he recognized all its
inhabitants and the newcomer that had entered the huge building earlier. He
recognized the man and his glance returned back outside to the stars. There was
no reason to be afraid or disturbed for him, for he knew the man, he knew him
well and for quite a long time.
The man slowly entered the Professor's study, he had entered it already
often before and knew each and every single thing that was in it. Some of the
items he himself had brought here, gifts for the Professor. On the desk there
were standing several photographs of his students like were hanging on the
wall. It were pictures of the Professor's students, all his students of the
past and present, on some pictures the man who silently stood there also was to
be seen. He remembered it now, remembered well these pictures and the days on
which they had been taken. It were all happy and beautiful memories but now
bitter ones mingled between them as the man stood there in the door of the
study and looked inside.
The Professor sat in his wheelchair, his back towards the door and he
felt absolutely safe here. He was after all inside his own school, inside his
own house and he knew the man who stood in the door, knew that he had nothing
to fear from him. For a moment the man simply stood there in the door and
glanced towards the darkness of the room, as all his memories came back to him
and he remembered all these things, he connected with this house, in which he
still lived and the inhabitants of it, that had become his friends and family,
but also with the man in the wheelchair, who sat there unsuspectingly in front
of the window.
The thunder had come rolling closer now and lightning lit up the nightly
sky, just like it also lit up the study and the two men inside there.
"Good evening, Professor."
Xavier already had seen him mirrored on the window and now he turned
around, to face him. The man had brown hair and was wearing glasses, which now
flashed shortly in the light of the lit up sky. He wore a plain suit and simply
stood there, his glance cast downward, but now he raised his head and looked
Xavier directly inside his. Yes, the Professor knew the man, he was a student,
a friend and much more, he was family and he was not afraid of him. But
nonetheless there was something about him now that was strange, something he'd
never noticed nor seen in him. Outside the rain had begun to fall and now came
down harder on the roof, the wind blowing around the towers of the mansion.
Once in a while some lightning strikes were showing and lit up the sky, causing
the stars and the light of the moon to shortly disappear.
Everything still seemed so peacefully inside the Professor's study, two
men who had known each other for a long time and for whom the other meant more
than one could imagine simply stood there and remained silent. It truly seemed
peaceful, but this was just the surface, for on the inside there already was a
storm brewing and it was just shortly before breaking out.
~/~
You have always told me, that it would be important to stand up for
peace, fight for peace between normal humans and mutants and I have always
believed you. It was a good idea, a wonderful dream, you are following. But
that is all for it will never be anything more than that, for will never be
more than a beautiful dream, a dream I now no longer can believe in.
We are fighting now for such a long time for this dream and nothing has
changed, nothing. Still mutants are being shunned and suppressed, feared and
loathed and god knows still not being treated equally to humans. But we are as
human as these people are too.
When I came to you to learn to control my powers, you have taken me in,
made me a part of the family and also part of your dream. I have sacrificed
everything for it, my own dreams I had and much more, to make your dream mine.
It was a beautiful dream, one I have been following willingly, blind as I was
then.
I can no longer believe in your dream, for now I have opened my eyes and
seen the truth, a truth you never wanted us to see, did you? You know very well
that this dream never will become reality but probably don't want to believe
it. You have known it from the beginning and never told us this, never have
told us a single word about. But you never would tell it anyway, because it is
just a comfortable method for your con game, to win new recruits for your
campaign, one that is also nothing but a mere dream.
For as long as I can remember, we only have fought your enemies, fought
against aliens that we didn't even know about and maybe never wanted to do
anything against us. But you have driven us further, driven us to fight further
despite all the losses we had had to endure during your campaign and still do.
We still fight against other mutants, evil mutants just like you always are
telling us and teach us.
But who's telling us that they truly are evil and want to fight mankind?
We just have your word for that and until now it always had been enough.
But no longer, it is no longer sufficient for me for now I want answers.
We never have stood up for a change, no matter what you were telling us. All
our fights have just made it worse for us and only achieved the opposite of
what we have been trying to achieve, what we always wanted. Now we are feared
even more, we are outcasts and are seen as terrorists, just like those we fight
in your name. I feel used, like a pawn moved over the board of your game, just
like you want to and if necessary, could be sacrificed and will be.
You have founded the X-Men, in your small school for mutants and there
will always be someone who will join your cause. And all just because of the
impression of false hopes you are giving them. I get sick just when I look at
you, at how you sit there in your wheelchair, sit by and watch. It almost seems
as we'd truly just be your puppets, your pawns in a game you are playing with
all the other powerful on this earth and all that concerns us is of no interest
for you.
You just are pulling our strings to your advantage and it never bothered
you, what we wanted or thought, because for you the only thing that ever
mattered was your dream.
Wake up, Professor, because this dream of yours really will be nothing
more than what it is, a dream. But that is is, what you want, isn't it?
And that, your dream had it always been we should have lived for, fought
for and died for, died for you. But did truly we want that or had that also
just have been a clever manipulation of from you? Did we truly want to join you
and your cause, have we always been too blinded by the dream so that we have
wanted to give up our own lives for it? And what about those who do not want to
join of their free will? Did you have to persuade them doing so?
You always told us that we should not hide ourselves, we only could make
it worse for ourselves you told us, cause more anger in the normal humans. You
might have been right with that. We are standing in the public, everybody knows
who we are, knows our faces and what we can do. You have made sure of that the
moment you revealed ourselves to the public. We never hid ourselves for you
told us it would cause more mistrust, more fear. Why did you have so much fear
to stand in the open yourself? Why have you never revealed your own
secret to the public, your big secret that even you, the big and mighty
Professor Charles Xavier are a mutant, too? Are you too afraid of what might
happen, once the world would find out or do you know more about the truth than
you allow us to know?
When I am standing here now I really feel sick at your view and I feel
used, abused and weak-willed. What if I actually did not want to follow you for
quite a whole time now or never at all, and you simply control me, to act out
after your wish and command? I would not be able to tell otherwise and I cannot
for I could never prove it and you could manipulate all my memories with a
simple thought so that I would never remember anything.
We just are the puppets in your game, the X-Men founded for one single
purpose only, so that you won't loose in it. We just are the pawns you can
place on the board as you might wish, the puppets on whose strings you are
pulling.
It never had been you wish to change anything, am I not right? For if
something would change, you would be at a disadvantage and once if we would
recognize the truth you would have lost it all. And because of this you are
eager to keep us small and in the dark, because of this you hide the truth from
us out of fear that we might look behind your façade and think our own
thoughts, make our own decisions.
But surprise, Professor, for as blind as you might think we'd be, we are
not, I definitely am not for a long time by now. I have seen behind the mirror
and seen what the truth really is. I have recognized it and I have recognized
the only way to make you realize this also, to make you realize that we are not
just mere pawns in your game. My eyes have been opened and it is time that I
will be doing the same with you.
~/~
The storm was howling around the towers of the mansion now, the rain
poured stronger down and fell unyieldingly onto the roof, running down at the
windows. A thunderstruck shook the room, it was so close that it almost was above
the mansion.
The man in the door glanced down at the professor for a final time, his
glance showing sorrow but his eyes were hidden behind his glasses. Above the
Professor's face rushed a slight cloud of panic as he realized that he had not
been that safe like he thought to be. But he couldn't explain it, he had not
been able to feel any sign of hostility in the man as he had entered the room
and still did not. Actually he didn't feel anything from the man who faced him
now and whom he had thought to be his friend, someone he was closer to than to
his family. He had never seen it coming and never thought possible, but in the
moment the man took off his glasses, Xavier knew how wrong he truly was, what
big mistake he had made.
Outside the thunder again rolled over the mansion, it was like a shot
from a gun, the sound of a huge explosion that shook the room and the winds
were howling.
On his face there was a mixture of panic and surprise to be seen, his
eyes were not showing fear but shock and alarm. He had expected this day to
come, the day when someone would come after him because of what he was, had
feared it his whole life but now that it had actually come, he could not
believe it happening. The man who stood in front of him was the last person he
had expected to do such a thing but he had done it.
The face of the man was the last thing, Xavier should see in his life,
the last thing he should keep in his mind and memories and it was the most
shocking thing he could have imagined, but at the same time the most surprising
thing. He had no time to do or say anything, no time to defend himself because
the moment he realized the danger he was in, it was already too late, too late
for everything. His head rolled to the side and his dead blue eyes remained fixated
onto his murderer, stared directly at him and in them one last silent question
was left.
Why?
Professor Charles Xavier was dead, murdered in his own house, from the
person he himself or anybody else would have expected it the last. His murderer
stood right in front of him and looked down at the body.
In the moment, Xavier had taken his final breath something had clicked
inside the head of the murderer and it seemed as if he had just woken up from
an endless sleep, a dream that now had become a nightmare for him as he now
through the haze of the night and confusion, that reigned his mind now,
realized what had happened and his work in front of him was lightened with the
light of another lightning stroke, just like the light illuminated himself as
well.
Scott Summers glanced stunned down at the man, who had been his mentor
and also his friend as well, the man who had become his family for him and who
meant more to him than he could ever say. The man, who now sat dead in the
wheelchair in front of him and whom he had just killed.
"Oh, my god! What have I done?"
~/~
The Professor's body was found by the others in the morning.
He still sat in his wheelchair in his study, just like he had in the
night before. In the chest of the dead man there was a gaping hole that had
been caused by an optic blast from close range, the lines of the wound were
cauterised so that not much blood was seen on the dressing gown. But they would
have had difficulties to see it in front of the dark red fabric of it.
At his feet sat Scott Summers, one of his first students of his once
newly founded school and also the first of his X-Men. He held the cold hand of
the dead man in his and had put his head in Xavier's lap, tears were running
down his cheeks, tears of despair that tasted salty on his lips but that did no
longer come to his notice just like anything else no longer came close to him.
The moment he had seen the body his heart had frozen and his world
shattered. His thoughts had cleared and the wall of control that had lain over
them vanished as well. But his mind no longer was the one of the man he used to
be. It now tried desperately to put back together all the broken pieces that
were left to him, of his life and all else. Scott sat on the floor on his knees
and rocked his body forth and back, silently murmuring while more tears came
running down his cheeks. He had his eyes closed and he did not notice anything
that went around him nor did he want to notice any of it.
The founder of the School for the Gifted, mentor and teacher for so many
mutants, who had come to him, was dead and a stunned silence crawled over the
mansion, spreading out from the study on the first floor and only the silent
whimpering and pleas of one man were heard, the man who had killed him.
"What have I done? Professor, I am so sorry. What have I done? Please
forgive me, I am sorry, so sorry…"
It is said that even under hypnosis or other mental influences on us
we can never be forced to do things we'd never do in an awake state of mind,
because our subconscious, unnoticed by us, will always remind us of it and
prevent us from doing these things. It will do this, will it not?
~fin~
Fallen Hero
By: Belladonna