Disclaimers: Just to be on the safe side, I must tell you that I did not
create these characters. They belong to MutantX and Tribune Entertainment.
But I guess you knew that.
Sanctuary late at night is never silent.
True, it's a lot quieter when the team aren't around, laughing, talking, working out, discussing a mission, working on equipment. All those things that families do. Late at night, if there's no mission to accomplish, all but the security computers are shut down, and then you hear the sounds you don't hear at other times. The sibilant whisper of air, kept always in motion by Sanctuary's ingenious ventilation system. The faint tick and beep of electronic guardians keeping watch on all approaches by land, sea, or air. The settling of earth around the steel structures that support the cavern. The very mountain itself.
They don't know that I keep watch as well.
I never needed much sleep, even as a child. Maybe it's a consequence of the mutancy. Maybe it's just my insecurity. I don't know. But I was always a night wanderer, a compulsive checker-upper, a doorknob rattler. I patrol the shadows of Sanctuary, roaming into parts where the rest of the team never go. I know everything there is to know about the place, perhaps even more than Adam does. I know its strengths and weaknesses, I know how to get out of it without being seen (for those who don't have my abilities), and I know where it can be expanded, should mutants ever be driven from all other safe places to this, their last stand.
Even more, I've learned much about my team mates .
There is the soft sound of bare feet coming down the stairs, and I fade into the shadows. A faint white light comes on in the kitchen for a brief moment, and then there's the sound of the refrigerator door shutting. A tall shadow, dark against the darkness, crosses the open area and goes back up the stairs, and I smile. Ah, as I suspected. Brennan.
Unlike me, Brennan sleeps whenever he can. I suspect it's because his nights are restless as well. He is always full of energy, bounding from one thing to the next, never still, always facing the world with sweet eyes and a ready grin that conceal far more than they reveal. He has the heart of lion, but even when I consider my own fears and insecurities, I count myself much luckier. No one could ever be a more loyal friend, or a more distrustful adversary. Sorrow took up a place in his soul long ago, and he tries not to analyze too much, despite the fierce intelligence that burns in those eyes. I've never hesitated to put my life in his hands.
My brother. Or, rather, the brother I never had. And like any brother, he can aggravate me to the point of arm-waving rage. We've had heated words, he and I, sometimes almost to the point of blows. We've even come to blows, as a matter of fact, although not through natural anger. I know he was drugged and not himself, but the words he said to me in that prison hurt me far worse than the physical punishment he rained on me. He can't remember them, but I sometimes catch him watching me anxiously, as if he knows there's something he needs to make up for. He doesn't understand, though I've tried to tell him, that he makes up for it every time he's there watching my back.
Soft music plays somewhere upstairs. I follow the bright-colored stream and pause before her door. There's a gleam of light shining underneath. I don't knock on the door because that and the music are no sign that she's awake. Shalimar is a night creature, but the dark makes her lonely, so she's seldom in it unless she's out prowling the way I do. She is a lioness to Brennan's lion, a fierce warrior woman who would give her life for any one of us. I've been in love before, and every woman has had her as a standard.
I love her with a love so deep I can't describe it. Hers was the first friendly face I saw when Adam drew me into the hidden world of mutants. Until then, I didn't know there could be anyone like me. She was as beautiful then as she is now, and she smiled, and enfolded me in welcoming arms, making me feel human for the first time in my life. Everything she does is grace and poetry, and I want to shout her name with joy every time I see her golden eyes glowing feral.
I think Brennan is falling in love with her. I don't know how I feel about that, and I don't really know what her feelings toward him are. He would never deliberately hurt her, I'm not afraid on that score. But they're like two stars circling each other, each burning with a ferocious energy that threatens to draw the other in for one final cataclysmic burst of world-destroying light. Seeing them together makes me fear for them both, and yet gives me hope that our kind can find peace in this world despite the odds.
There is silence behind Emma's door as I pass by. I pause and reach out, wondering if she can feel me there in the corridor, waiting and watching. My mind searches for any touch, any sign that she's there, but alas, I don't have her ability. And even if I did, I think Emma would still be barricaded behind silent, closed doors. That thought makes my heart ache.
It would be easy to pity her, if she were defenseless against the ceaseless onslaught of mental chatter that the world swims in. But she isn't. Emma is deeper than any of us, maybe even deeper than Adam. She has power I can only guess at, certainly more than she has ever allowed us to see. Maybe it's only my imagination, or maybe a half-submerged memory, but I can't help feeling there's a great sadness in her which is a consequence of this power. Sometimes I think that she carries within her the means to make us or break us.
And yet, she's a brightness that colors my day. She understands me when I tell her things. She's sympathetic, but never lets me get away with anything. She can make me laugh when she ties her hair up in ponytails and skates through Sanctuary, making goofy faces. When I taught her how to use a computer, I never had to tell her anything twice, and now I'm hard pressed to keep up with her.
I think I could fall in love with Emma.
There are sounds coming from the open door of Adam's office, the tap of a keyboard, the rustle of paper. I lean against the doorframe, arms folded until Adam notices that I'm there.
"Hey," he says, distracted by the printout in his hand.
"Do you ever sleep?" I say, because I see him here night after night.
"About as much as you do," he says, and smiles at me. His smile is warm, a fond expression that I would have given my life's blood to see on my father's face. I guess it would be an overstatement to say that Adam loves us like his children, and yet somehow, I think he does. I've seen his eyes spark with pride and relief when we've managed to overcome danger and come home from a mission in one piece. I've also seen them glittering in unspoken fear whenever one of us was hurt. And we've all seen the unguarded moments of guilt that he can never quite hide from us.
We're what we are because of Adam. We're also alive because of him. I know he recognizes this, but whether he can ever reconcile one with the other is still an open question.
"You should go to bed, Jesse," Adam says, already focusing on his work again. "You need your rest."
I sigh. That's Adam. He still sees me as he saw me all those years ago when he took me in and guided me to manhood. I suppose fathers are like that with their sons, although I don't really know from experience. It seems as if the men they knew as boys remain boys forever in their minds. I refuse to accept it, though, and in this I'm aided and abetted by Brennan, who is always challenging Adam's authority. They're closer than either of them realizes, something that gives me a little pang of jealousy now and then, even though I know it's foolish. And since I don't feel the need to butt heads with Adam as often as Brennan does, I merely smile indulgently, and nod, and leave his office.
For a moment I'm tempted to log on in the lab and begin riding the endless data streams, searching for those random bits of information that will fit into the path we're building toward a better world where we can be secure. There are times when all of MutantX circles around me, waiting to be set in motion by the secrets I uncover. In this work, Adam and I are more alike than any of the others, so perhaps I'm his true heir after all.
Instead, I climb to the top of the mountain, and stay there watching the stars, until dawn separates the sea from the sky and the night is safely past.
Sanctuary late at night is never silent.
True, it's a lot quieter when the team aren't around, laughing, talking, working out, discussing a mission, working on equipment. All those things that families do. Late at night, if there's no mission to accomplish, all but the security computers are shut down, and then you hear the sounds you don't hear at other times. The sibilant whisper of air, kept always in motion by Sanctuary's ingenious ventilation system. The faint tick and beep of electronic guardians keeping watch on all approaches by land, sea, or air. The settling of earth around the steel structures that support the cavern. The very mountain itself.
They don't know that I keep watch as well.
I never needed much sleep, even as a child. Maybe it's a consequence of the mutancy. Maybe it's just my insecurity. I don't know. But I was always a night wanderer, a compulsive checker-upper, a doorknob rattler. I patrol the shadows of Sanctuary, roaming into parts where the rest of the team never go. I know everything there is to know about the place, perhaps even more than Adam does. I know its strengths and weaknesses, I know how to get out of it without being seen (for those who don't have my abilities), and I know where it can be expanded, should mutants ever be driven from all other safe places to this, their last stand.
Even more, I've learned much about my team mates .
There is the soft sound of bare feet coming down the stairs, and I fade into the shadows. A faint white light comes on in the kitchen for a brief moment, and then there's the sound of the refrigerator door shutting. A tall shadow, dark against the darkness, crosses the open area and goes back up the stairs, and I smile. Ah, as I suspected. Brennan.
Unlike me, Brennan sleeps whenever he can. I suspect it's because his nights are restless as well. He is always full of energy, bounding from one thing to the next, never still, always facing the world with sweet eyes and a ready grin that conceal far more than they reveal. He has the heart of lion, but even when I consider my own fears and insecurities, I count myself much luckier. No one could ever be a more loyal friend, or a more distrustful adversary. Sorrow took up a place in his soul long ago, and he tries not to analyze too much, despite the fierce intelligence that burns in those eyes. I've never hesitated to put my life in his hands.
My brother. Or, rather, the brother I never had. And like any brother, he can aggravate me to the point of arm-waving rage. We've had heated words, he and I, sometimes almost to the point of blows. We've even come to blows, as a matter of fact, although not through natural anger. I know he was drugged and not himself, but the words he said to me in that prison hurt me far worse than the physical punishment he rained on me. He can't remember them, but I sometimes catch him watching me anxiously, as if he knows there's something he needs to make up for. He doesn't understand, though I've tried to tell him, that he makes up for it every time he's there watching my back.
Soft music plays somewhere upstairs. I follow the bright-colored stream and pause before her door. There's a gleam of light shining underneath. I don't knock on the door because that and the music are no sign that she's awake. Shalimar is a night creature, but the dark makes her lonely, so she's seldom in it unless she's out prowling the way I do. She is a lioness to Brennan's lion, a fierce warrior woman who would give her life for any one of us. I've been in love before, and every woman has had her as a standard.
I love her with a love so deep I can't describe it. Hers was the first friendly face I saw when Adam drew me into the hidden world of mutants. Until then, I didn't know there could be anyone like me. She was as beautiful then as she is now, and she smiled, and enfolded me in welcoming arms, making me feel human for the first time in my life. Everything she does is grace and poetry, and I want to shout her name with joy every time I see her golden eyes glowing feral.
I think Brennan is falling in love with her. I don't know how I feel about that, and I don't really know what her feelings toward him are. He would never deliberately hurt her, I'm not afraid on that score. But they're like two stars circling each other, each burning with a ferocious energy that threatens to draw the other in for one final cataclysmic burst of world-destroying light. Seeing them together makes me fear for them both, and yet gives me hope that our kind can find peace in this world despite the odds.
There is silence behind Emma's door as I pass by. I pause and reach out, wondering if she can feel me there in the corridor, waiting and watching. My mind searches for any touch, any sign that she's there, but alas, I don't have her ability. And even if I did, I think Emma would still be barricaded behind silent, closed doors. That thought makes my heart ache.
It would be easy to pity her, if she were defenseless against the ceaseless onslaught of mental chatter that the world swims in. But she isn't. Emma is deeper than any of us, maybe even deeper than Adam. She has power I can only guess at, certainly more than she has ever allowed us to see. Maybe it's only my imagination, or maybe a half-submerged memory, but I can't help feeling there's a great sadness in her which is a consequence of this power. Sometimes I think that she carries within her the means to make us or break us.
And yet, she's a brightness that colors my day. She understands me when I tell her things. She's sympathetic, but never lets me get away with anything. She can make me laugh when she ties her hair up in ponytails and skates through Sanctuary, making goofy faces. When I taught her how to use a computer, I never had to tell her anything twice, and now I'm hard pressed to keep up with her.
I think I could fall in love with Emma.
There are sounds coming from the open door of Adam's office, the tap of a keyboard, the rustle of paper. I lean against the doorframe, arms folded until Adam notices that I'm there.
"Hey," he says, distracted by the printout in his hand.
"Do you ever sleep?" I say, because I see him here night after night.
"About as much as you do," he says, and smiles at me. His smile is warm, a fond expression that I would have given my life's blood to see on my father's face. I guess it would be an overstatement to say that Adam loves us like his children, and yet somehow, I think he does. I've seen his eyes spark with pride and relief when we've managed to overcome danger and come home from a mission in one piece. I've also seen them glittering in unspoken fear whenever one of us was hurt. And we've all seen the unguarded moments of guilt that he can never quite hide from us.
We're what we are because of Adam. We're also alive because of him. I know he recognizes this, but whether he can ever reconcile one with the other is still an open question.
"You should go to bed, Jesse," Adam says, already focusing on his work again. "You need your rest."
I sigh. That's Adam. He still sees me as he saw me all those years ago when he took me in and guided me to manhood. I suppose fathers are like that with their sons, although I don't really know from experience. It seems as if the men they knew as boys remain boys forever in their minds. I refuse to accept it, though, and in this I'm aided and abetted by Brennan, who is always challenging Adam's authority. They're closer than either of them realizes, something that gives me a little pang of jealousy now and then, even though I know it's foolish. And since I don't feel the need to butt heads with Adam as often as Brennan does, I merely smile indulgently, and nod, and leave his office.
For a moment I'm tempted to log on in the lab and begin riding the endless data streams, searching for those random bits of information that will fit into the path we're building toward a better world where we can be secure. There are times when all of MutantX circles around me, waiting to be set in motion by the secrets I uncover. In this work, Adam and I are more alike than any of the others, so perhaps I'm his true heir after all.
Instead, I climb to the top of the mountain, and stay there watching the stars, until dawn separates the sea from the sky and the night is safely past.