**********
**
"Oh, you idiot!" She cursed a few times before getting out to look at the engine. She opened the hood. Her battery was flat. She looked around at her empty surrounds. She leaned in close to the engine and let the power build in her fingers.
Then there was a strange noise. It was almost like a throbbing, but irregular, more like a low-pitched wavering hum. It grew closer, but before Emma could turn around to examine the source, the hood of her car slammed down hard on the back of her head, knocking her out.
**
**********
"It *was* Magneto." Emma could have hit herself for being so stupid.
"Yes, which is not entirely surprising. Are you ready to start on the rest of your memories? More than a few are painful."
She gave Charles a look. "Pain is *not* knowing."
"Very well. Just relax."
**********
**
She couldn't concentrate on school, not even on her language class. German had always been her favourite subject, but today all the harsh syllables weren't important. Emma kept staring at her hands, rubbing them as if that action could erase what they'd done. She had some money, and if she was quick she could buy a new alarm clock before her mother found out.
If she ever found out... Emma tried not to think about it, but loneliness and fear gnawed at her inside. What was she?
**
Now she was a lot younger. And she didn't understand why she was being punished; she didn't understand what she'd done. She had only wished she was a little taller, and then her mother had found her and started screaming. And now the priest was there and...
**
Now she was older, but still young. Perhaps a teenager. Sitting on the swings at the park at the end of her street. She would have to go home soon, because it was getting dark. Emma didn't fear the dark. She feared herself. She was different from other people - which she'd always known - but to throw lightning from her hands? It was absurd, something out of a horror film.
A man in a wheelchair approached her. She watched him warily.
He stopped near her. "You don't have to be afraid Emma. I want to help you."
"Help me?" She stood up. "Why should I need help?" She looked around. How did he know her name? There was no one passing by, no one listening in, for which she was grateful. Her parents couldn't know.
"I know what you're going through. I went through it too. And, there's more. Do you know that you're adopted?"
She nodded.
"I think that I may well be your uncle."
**
**********
Emma paced the room, wringing her hands in an agitated manner. "God, this is just so *frustrating*!"
Charles watches her quietly, knowing how she felt. "You must remain calm. You memory will return in time. It can't be rushed." They could only do a few hours a day, before both of them felt the strain of the exercise. And her memories weren't in any order, but confused and fragmented.
When she wasn't with Charles, Emma shut herself in her room, sleeping and trying to put her thoughts in order. She knew how she'd come to the institute, how she'd discovered her power, but other things eluded her. She avoided contact with everyone, trying to deal with her overwhelming guilt at having electrocuted Jean and Logan.
Logan, who she hasn't quite sure of. The memories of him were the most jumbled and confused of all. In one memory she was using her power on him, or fighting him, and in others she was asleep in his arms, or making him coffee.
It didn't make a lot of sense.
Emma also had to get used to odd flashes of memory returning. After the second session with Charles, she had begun unpacking her bag. Crammed down in the bottom was a blue sundress, wrapped around a pair of black sandals. The outfit seemed inconsistent with the rest of her wardrobe, and she'd wondered if it was really hers, but then she had a flash.
She remembered buying it, the way she'd been forced into buying it by Jean and Kitty, how she'd bought it for... And then it was gone.
She sat down on the large couch in Xavier's office and leant her head on her hand. "How do I apologise to them Charles?"
"Well I think the word 'sorry' could help." He smiled.
"Oh yes, very funny. Hey Jean, sorry I tried to kill you, see ya later... That'll go down well."
Her uncle sighed. "Emma, they're smarter than you think. They know that you were confused by Magneto. They will understand."
"Gee, I really hope you're right." She looked at the clock on his desk. The rest of the teens at the institute were at school, but Jean was still in the infirmary, but Hank said she would be fine to leave in another day. //Note to self: hands carry enough electricity to take out a teenage girl for three days...// Emma stood. "I think I'll go an pay a visit to Jean. Gotta start somewhere."
*********************
A/N: Okay, maybe a few more people like this than I though, so I'll think about continuing the series... Not really promising anything though. But thank you all for your kind words, they made me happy =]
**
"Oh, you idiot!" She cursed a few times before getting out to look at the engine. She opened the hood. Her battery was flat. She looked around at her empty surrounds. She leaned in close to the engine and let the power build in her fingers.
Then there was a strange noise. It was almost like a throbbing, but irregular, more like a low-pitched wavering hum. It grew closer, but before Emma could turn around to examine the source, the hood of her car slammed down hard on the back of her head, knocking her out.
**
**********
"It *was* Magneto." Emma could have hit herself for being so stupid.
"Yes, which is not entirely surprising. Are you ready to start on the rest of your memories? More than a few are painful."
She gave Charles a look. "Pain is *not* knowing."
"Very well. Just relax."
**********
**
She couldn't concentrate on school, not even on her language class. German had always been her favourite subject, but today all the harsh syllables weren't important. Emma kept staring at her hands, rubbing them as if that action could erase what they'd done. She had some money, and if she was quick she could buy a new alarm clock before her mother found out.
If she ever found out... Emma tried not to think about it, but loneliness and fear gnawed at her inside. What was she?
**
Now she was a lot younger. And she didn't understand why she was being punished; she didn't understand what she'd done. She had only wished she was a little taller, and then her mother had found her and started screaming. And now the priest was there and...
**
Now she was older, but still young. Perhaps a teenager. Sitting on the swings at the park at the end of her street. She would have to go home soon, because it was getting dark. Emma didn't fear the dark. She feared herself. She was different from other people - which she'd always known - but to throw lightning from her hands? It was absurd, something out of a horror film.
A man in a wheelchair approached her. She watched him warily.
He stopped near her. "You don't have to be afraid Emma. I want to help you."
"Help me?" She stood up. "Why should I need help?" She looked around. How did he know her name? There was no one passing by, no one listening in, for which she was grateful. Her parents couldn't know.
"I know what you're going through. I went through it too. And, there's more. Do you know that you're adopted?"
She nodded.
"I think that I may well be your uncle."
**
**********
Emma paced the room, wringing her hands in an agitated manner. "God, this is just so *frustrating*!"
Charles watches her quietly, knowing how she felt. "You must remain calm. You memory will return in time. It can't be rushed." They could only do a few hours a day, before both of them felt the strain of the exercise. And her memories weren't in any order, but confused and fragmented.
When she wasn't with Charles, Emma shut herself in her room, sleeping and trying to put her thoughts in order. She knew how she'd come to the institute, how she'd discovered her power, but other things eluded her. She avoided contact with everyone, trying to deal with her overwhelming guilt at having electrocuted Jean and Logan.
Logan, who she hasn't quite sure of. The memories of him were the most jumbled and confused of all. In one memory she was using her power on him, or fighting him, and in others she was asleep in his arms, or making him coffee.
It didn't make a lot of sense.
Emma also had to get used to odd flashes of memory returning. After the second session with Charles, she had begun unpacking her bag. Crammed down in the bottom was a blue sundress, wrapped around a pair of black sandals. The outfit seemed inconsistent with the rest of her wardrobe, and she'd wondered if it was really hers, but then she had a flash.
She remembered buying it, the way she'd been forced into buying it by Jean and Kitty, how she'd bought it for... And then it was gone.
She sat down on the large couch in Xavier's office and leant her head on her hand. "How do I apologise to them Charles?"
"Well I think the word 'sorry' could help." He smiled.
"Oh yes, very funny. Hey Jean, sorry I tried to kill you, see ya later... That'll go down well."
Her uncle sighed. "Emma, they're smarter than you think. They know that you were confused by Magneto. They will understand."
"Gee, I really hope you're right." She looked at the clock on his desk. The rest of the teens at the institute were at school, but Jean was still in the infirmary, but Hank said she would be fine to leave in another day. //Note to self: hands carry enough electricity to take out a teenage girl for three days...// Emma stood. "I think I'll go an pay a visit to Jean. Gotta start somewhere."
*********************
A/N: Okay, maybe a few more people like this than I though, so I'll think about continuing the series... Not really promising anything though. But thank you all for your kind words, they made me happy =]
