Please, Allison! Call someone to cut through the duct tape, and for God's
sake, eat something before you read this! Oh, and make sure you're sitting
down....:)
***
...Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door. Greta looked up from the folder, startled. She had just begun to lift the top flap with her fingertips.
"Who is it?" she called, after a deep, shaky breath.
"Ororo," came a muffled voice through the door. "May I come in?"
"Sure." Greta turned around to face the entryway, pushing the portfolio behind her on the bed.
The door creaked open, and as soon as the white-haired mutant had uttered the words "Evan's awake," Greta had leapt out of her seat on the bed, all thoughts of her past forgotten.
"C'n I see 'im?" She was too excited to fully enunciate her words. She almost didn't notice when Ororo chuckled at her, focusing only on the positive answer. "I thought you would want to be the first to know," Storm called after her as she sped down the hall. Catching herself, Greta slowed her pace down to relatively normal (the best she could manage under the circumstances), and poked her head through the gap between door and wall. Evan waved at her. She slipped through the doorway and crossed the space between them, sitting down in a folding chair beside the bed.
"Are you-" _Well, duh, he's okay, y'idiot._ "Does it hurt?" Greta corrected herself.
Evan seemed to be intently focused on her, apparently not seeing Ororo come to the door. Greta didn't notice, either. "It's not bad," he shrugged, smiling. _Maybe she does sorta like me after all,_ he thought hopefully. "Are you okay? I heard Blob gotcha."
She bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "Yeah. 'Roro says it's a concussion, not so bad." Looking up at him again, she said, "I'm glad you're okay," then a light rosy tint came to her cheeks and she beat a hasty retreat out of the door. Ororo had a hard time avoiding her as she tore down the hall back to her room, but she managed, and soon entered Evan's room herself.
"She's very shy, Evan," Ororo said, taking Greta's former seat. "You're lucky to have coaxed her that far out of her shell."
"Yeah, she's sorta like a little kid, you know? Only...not," he blushed. "Why do you think she left so fast?"
"I don't think - I know. The Professor has found some more about her past, so she's off to learn more about it." She gave him a look. "I'm sure we'll all be very supportive of her?"
"Sure, Auntie O."
"All right, then," she patted him on the shoulder, looking slightly amused. "I'll leave you here - with your thoughts." Evan caught her grin just as she was heading out the door, and smiled himself.
"Yeah," he said aloud to the empty room. "My - thoughts."
***
Greta paused when she got to her room once again, waiting by the newly-closed door and listening. She heard Ororo's light, graceful steps down the hall, and a few minutes later she heard Kitty stomping towards the kitchen. After that, nothing, so she headed directly to her bed and the folder waiting on it. This time, she wasn't so hesitant about opening it; in fact, she nearly tore the cover off, emboldened from her brief encounter with - she blushed at the thought of him - Evan. Biting her lip, she forced herself to focus on the contents of the folder, and was surprised when she read the first words on the top piece of paper.
~BIRTH CERTIFICATE~ it read. _I have one?_ she thought in surprise. She looked up to the window, out at the clear blue sky, which she had forgotten until that moment. _Better save that for later,_ she turned the certificate over and looked to the next sheet of paper.
~MEMO
Office of Daniel Gallagher
Concerning my daughter
My daughter has recently lost a mother, and I must submit her to your care. Please look after her well.~
There was a sloppy signature at the bottom, and Greta got the impression that Mr. Gallagher had not really been the one to sign it. _Daniel Gallagher is my...father?_ Again, the thought sprang to her mind unbidden: _I have one?_ She flipped this sheet to find a hastily-written letter underneath, scrawled in a strange, pointed handwriting.
~Mr. Gallagher
You have not sent your daughter to a safe place. The Haven for Lost Children is not all it appears to be, in fact, it is very much less than what it appears to be. I tried to get your daughter out before it was too late for her, but she seems to have taken care of it herself, by running away. The police are out searching for her, and I have informed them not to return her to The Haven for Lost Children, which is in the process of being shut down. They are guilty of many horrific crimes, here, and I have found the real name of one of the worst people I have ever encountered. It's~ here there was an unidentifiable scribble. Most of the letter was scribbled, but this was the only word Greta couldn't quite make out. ~Needless to say, I have not been affiliated with The Haven for Lost Children for some time, having been fired two years ago. I live nearby, however, and I am ashamed to have not stopped these activities earlier. I am sure your child will be found safe, Mr. Gallagher, but the police will need further notice on where to send her when located. Please respond.~
There was a return address written beneath the letter, and a name was written: Ida Barnaby. Eyebrows raised, Greta bit her lip and turned this paper over to view the next - there were only two more remaining in the envelope, and they were stapled together.
~New York Police Department
MISSING PERSONS REPORT~ was on the header of the first sheet. It was filled out with a blocky sort of handwriting in blue pen. Again, Greta couldn't read the name scribbled at the top of the page.
~Eyes _ brown --- Hair _ shoulder length, brown --- Build _ slight --- Age _ 6 1/2 --- Reported by _ Ida Barnaby, neighbor
Missing from _ The Haven for Lost Children, filed for child abuse --- Notes _ Mother killed two years ago, checked in by father, Daniel Gallagher, unable to care for child. Second child missing from The Haven for Lost Children.
Filed by _ Lieutenant Edgar Johnson, Central Branch~
Greta flipped to the last page in the envelope, stapled to the back of the missing persons report. There, printed out cheaply, was a headshot of a little girl: her. She gasped, lifting the paper, and folding the first page of the report behind it. Brown hair, brown eyes...the eyes were hollow- looking, empty. The girl was thin, she looked like a refugee from a starving country, and she had a slight smile on her face, like someone had told her to pose prettily for the camera. She was wearing a pretty purple shirt, it had matching ruffles on it. _Me. That's me._
Grasping the picture tightly, Greta raced for the mirror, and held up the photo next to her own face. She smiled slightly, and....
Same hollow-looking eyes. Same forced smile. Same build - thin, waif- looking. _Oh, geez._ Without even realizing she had crossed the room again, Greta sank down onto her bed. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly for a minute, then realized with a start she still hadn't looked at the birth certificate. Moving almost frantically, she shuffled through the papers and uncovered the green slip.
~BIRTH CERTIFICATE
Name, last, first _ Gallagher, Edmona ---
Mother's maiden name, last, first _ Schuster, Marie ---
Father's name, last, first _ Gallagher, Daniel ---
Date of birth - ~ _Oh, God. Oh, God._ Someone had written down in the corner of the paper: Mona.
Mona.
She felt the exact instant when the rage took over. Blind. Rage. Mixed with a twinge of hurt. Just enough to -
She tore down the hallway, palms out in front of her, blankly using pressure to throw everything out of her way. It wasn't a conscious decision as to where she was going, but she was going somewhere, and she was going to smash everything ahead of her to get there.
Too bad Evan chose that precise moment to stick his head out of his doorway.
He had been trying to do his homework, but was too distracted by the thought of that blush on Greta's face when she had left, when suddenly he heard the crashing noises in the hallway. Hauling himself out of bed, and wincing in pain at the bandaged part of his abdomen, he stumbled across the floor to the door to see what was going on. That was when he stuck his head out of the doorway - right into the path of Greta's pressure powers.
CRACK! And he was lying on the floor, groaning in pain once again. But not for long. Pushing himself off the floor as soon as possible, he ran as fast as he could in Greta's wake.
***
Another chapter done! ::much rejoicing:: I hope you enjoyed! There will be more if you review...want to see what happens next? Oh, and if you figured out what happened in Greta/Mona's past, please drop a line and I'll tell you if you're right.
***
...Just then, there was a gentle knock on the door. Greta looked up from the folder, startled. She had just begun to lift the top flap with her fingertips.
"Who is it?" she called, after a deep, shaky breath.
"Ororo," came a muffled voice through the door. "May I come in?"
"Sure." Greta turned around to face the entryway, pushing the portfolio behind her on the bed.
The door creaked open, and as soon as the white-haired mutant had uttered the words "Evan's awake," Greta had leapt out of her seat on the bed, all thoughts of her past forgotten.
"C'n I see 'im?" She was too excited to fully enunciate her words. She almost didn't notice when Ororo chuckled at her, focusing only on the positive answer. "I thought you would want to be the first to know," Storm called after her as she sped down the hall. Catching herself, Greta slowed her pace down to relatively normal (the best she could manage under the circumstances), and poked her head through the gap between door and wall. Evan waved at her. She slipped through the doorway and crossed the space between them, sitting down in a folding chair beside the bed.
"Are you-" _Well, duh, he's okay, y'idiot._ "Does it hurt?" Greta corrected herself.
Evan seemed to be intently focused on her, apparently not seeing Ororo come to the door. Greta didn't notice, either. "It's not bad," he shrugged, smiling. _Maybe she does sorta like me after all,_ he thought hopefully. "Are you okay? I heard Blob gotcha."
She bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "Yeah. 'Roro says it's a concussion, not so bad." Looking up at him again, she said, "I'm glad you're okay," then a light rosy tint came to her cheeks and she beat a hasty retreat out of the door. Ororo had a hard time avoiding her as she tore down the hall back to her room, but she managed, and soon entered Evan's room herself.
"She's very shy, Evan," Ororo said, taking Greta's former seat. "You're lucky to have coaxed her that far out of her shell."
"Yeah, she's sorta like a little kid, you know? Only...not," he blushed. "Why do you think she left so fast?"
"I don't think - I know. The Professor has found some more about her past, so she's off to learn more about it." She gave him a look. "I'm sure we'll all be very supportive of her?"
"Sure, Auntie O."
"All right, then," she patted him on the shoulder, looking slightly amused. "I'll leave you here - with your thoughts." Evan caught her grin just as she was heading out the door, and smiled himself.
"Yeah," he said aloud to the empty room. "My - thoughts."
***
Greta paused when she got to her room once again, waiting by the newly-closed door and listening. She heard Ororo's light, graceful steps down the hall, and a few minutes later she heard Kitty stomping towards the kitchen. After that, nothing, so she headed directly to her bed and the folder waiting on it. This time, she wasn't so hesitant about opening it; in fact, she nearly tore the cover off, emboldened from her brief encounter with - she blushed at the thought of him - Evan. Biting her lip, she forced herself to focus on the contents of the folder, and was surprised when she read the first words on the top piece of paper.
~BIRTH CERTIFICATE~ it read. _I have one?_ she thought in surprise. She looked up to the window, out at the clear blue sky, which she had forgotten until that moment. _Better save that for later,_ she turned the certificate over and looked to the next sheet of paper.
~MEMO
Office of Daniel Gallagher
Concerning my daughter
My daughter has recently lost a mother, and I must submit her to your care. Please look after her well.~
There was a sloppy signature at the bottom, and Greta got the impression that Mr. Gallagher had not really been the one to sign it. _Daniel Gallagher is my...father?_ Again, the thought sprang to her mind unbidden: _I have one?_ She flipped this sheet to find a hastily-written letter underneath, scrawled in a strange, pointed handwriting.
~Mr. Gallagher
You have not sent your daughter to a safe place. The Haven for Lost Children is not all it appears to be, in fact, it is very much less than what it appears to be. I tried to get your daughter out before it was too late for her, but she seems to have taken care of it herself, by running away. The police are out searching for her, and I have informed them not to return her to The Haven for Lost Children, which is in the process of being shut down. They are guilty of many horrific crimes, here, and I have found the real name of one of the worst people I have ever encountered. It's~ here there was an unidentifiable scribble. Most of the letter was scribbled, but this was the only word Greta couldn't quite make out. ~Needless to say, I have not been affiliated with The Haven for Lost Children for some time, having been fired two years ago. I live nearby, however, and I am ashamed to have not stopped these activities earlier. I am sure your child will be found safe, Mr. Gallagher, but the police will need further notice on where to send her when located. Please respond.~
There was a return address written beneath the letter, and a name was written: Ida Barnaby. Eyebrows raised, Greta bit her lip and turned this paper over to view the next - there were only two more remaining in the envelope, and they were stapled together.
~New York Police Department
MISSING PERSONS REPORT~ was on the header of the first sheet. It was filled out with a blocky sort of handwriting in blue pen. Again, Greta couldn't read the name scribbled at the top of the page.
~Eyes _ brown --- Hair _ shoulder length, brown --- Build _ slight --- Age _ 6 1/2 --- Reported by _ Ida Barnaby, neighbor
Missing from _ The Haven for Lost Children, filed for child abuse --- Notes _ Mother killed two years ago, checked in by father, Daniel Gallagher, unable to care for child. Second child missing from The Haven for Lost Children.
Filed by _ Lieutenant Edgar Johnson, Central Branch~
Greta flipped to the last page in the envelope, stapled to the back of the missing persons report. There, printed out cheaply, was a headshot of a little girl: her. She gasped, lifting the paper, and folding the first page of the report behind it. Brown hair, brown eyes...the eyes were hollow- looking, empty. The girl was thin, she looked like a refugee from a starving country, and she had a slight smile on her face, like someone had told her to pose prettily for the camera. She was wearing a pretty purple shirt, it had matching ruffles on it. _Me. That's me._
Grasping the picture tightly, Greta raced for the mirror, and held up the photo next to her own face. She smiled slightly, and....
Same hollow-looking eyes. Same forced smile. Same build - thin, waif- looking. _Oh, geez._ Without even realizing she had crossed the room again, Greta sank down onto her bed. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly for a minute, then realized with a start she still hadn't looked at the birth certificate. Moving almost frantically, she shuffled through the papers and uncovered the green slip.
~BIRTH CERTIFICATE
Name, last, first _ Gallagher, Edmona ---
Mother's maiden name, last, first _ Schuster, Marie ---
Father's name, last, first _ Gallagher, Daniel ---
Date of birth - ~ _Oh, God. Oh, God._ Someone had written down in the corner of the paper: Mona.
Mona.
She felt the exact instant when the rage took over. Blind. Rage. Mixed with a twinge of hurt. Just enough to -
She tore down the hallway, palms out in front of her, blankly using pressure to throw everything out of her way. It wasn't a conscious decision as to where she was going, but she was going somewhere, and she was going to smash everything ahead of her to get there.
Too bad Evan chose that precise moment to stick his head out of his doorway.
He had been trying to do his homework, but was too distracted by the thought of that blush on Greta's face when she had left, when suddenly he heard the crashing noises in the hallway. Hauling himself out of bed, and wincing in pain at the bandaged part of his abdomen, he stumbled across the floor to the door to see what was going on. That was when he stuck his head out of the doorway - right into the path of Greta's pressure powers.
CRACK! And he was lying on the floor, groaning in pain once again. But not for long. Pushing himself off the floor as soon as possible, he ran as fast as he could in Greta's wake.
***
Another chapter done! ::much rejoicing:: I hope you enjoyed! There will be more if you review...want to see what happens next? Oh, and if you figured out what happened in Greta/Mona's past, please drop a line and I'll tell you if you're right.
