Disclaimer: I'm really hoping that I'm either gonna get the X-Men
from Stan Lee and Jack Kirby for my birthday or find them in my
Easter basket, but until then...I own diddly-squat. Daggumit.
Anyway, I own Thorn, so don't take her or I'll sick Wulfe on
you!!!!
Author's Note: Sorry this chapters so short and it took so long, but my computer had viruses, my brother had projects, and I had homework. Not good combinations. I also realized that since X2 is coming out next month, there's not much reason for me to continue. I'd love to, but I guess I'll have to label this as an AU and hope to Gott in himmel that you people keep reading!!!! Well, this chapter's just an interlude and is short, but it ties into a future chapter. Continue on, read and review!! Thanx!!!
~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*
Thorn strode through the halls of the school, admiring the magnificent mansion in a detached sort of way. She was wearing her best outfit, which isn't saying much, but she thought she looked fairly decent. Her hair had been thoroughly washed and braided, making it look much nicer, and tamer, than usual. It wasn't that she was a dirty person really, it's just that she was much more comfortable with dirt than most people. She certainly didn't even attempt to look as immaculate as these people did.
Thorn turned her head to glance out a passing window, causing her thick brown braid to swing and slap her lightly on the tan jacket she wore over her dark brown tank top. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her khaki pants, of which both legs were slitted to give them the appearance of flaring out over her sandaled feet. Most of her wardrobe consisted of tank tops, cutoffs, and shorts, and as far as she was concerned, that was good enough for her. She couldn't even recall the last time she had worn a dress.or maybe she just didn't want to remember that far back.
Thorn quickly chased such thoughts from her head. She was on her way to an appointment with a psychic after all. Who knew what personal information she could 'accidentally' impart?
She reached Jean's office quicker than she expected to. Thorn stared at the heavy oaken door, as if she wished she could see right through it. Of course, nothing happened and Thorn pushed the door open with a sigh.
Really, she suspected that the real reason she'd been dreading this 'appointment' was because she hated shrinks. After The Accident, They'd made her see a whole bunch of 'em. Not that it had done her any good.
In fact, she'd always found psychiatrists extremely irritating. Especially the way the docs had used all those psychological terms, like referring to things important with capital letters. The Accident. Them. Your Parents.
Unfortunately, the terms had stuck, even after she had run away. Now, in the rare moments when she reflected on anything critical to her past, she thought in capitals. And if that wasn't annoying.
Jean looked up from her desk as the door opened with a creak. A smile crossed her face. "Thorn!" She greeted, as though she was surprised to see the patient. Yeah. Right. Psychic, remember?
Thorn replied in a similar fashion, albeit with a little less enthusiasm. She sat smoothly on one of the stuffed chairs facing the desk before Jean could ask her to lie on the couch. That was always humiliating.
"So..." Jean said, her hands folded in front of her.
"So...what?" Thorn inquired.
"Let's talk about where you're from," Jean suggested.
"What? Can't you just read my mind and figure it out?" Thorn said this with the utmost sweetness, though a smug smile crossed her face.
Jean sighed "Thorn, neither the professor nor I will ever read your mind without permission. That's an invasion of privacy. Besides, I would much rather hear it from your lips than your thoughts," She explained wearily.
Yet Jean understood there was a different side to what Thorn said; both she and the professor had done a brief mindscan when Thorn had first arrived and had received similar results. Entering her subconscious, they had found themselves in a setting straight from "the Secret Garden", complete with stone walls covered in ivy. Several doors were in the wall: one that led to her thoughts, another to her intelligence, and another to her memories. The door leading to her memories was blanketed completely with ivy and vines covered in thorns: an unbreachable barrier. Both psychics realized immediately that, despite this, they could trust Thorn and hadn't attempted a mindscan since then.
"How's the rash coming?" Thorn inquired innocently.
The small grudge Jean had held against the newcomer surfaced. There had been an incident after they had left the barn when Thorn had informed them that the curtain of vines covering the entrance to her barn was actually poison ivy. That had been Jean's first experience of bathing in Calamine oil. Not a pleasant experience.
Jean sighed mentally. She'd gone through this before, with another patient, in another time.
She recalled her first meeting with Thorn; she'd thought then that the strange, independent young woman had reminded her of someone. It wasn't until later, though, that Jean had realized who it was.
None other than the fierce Wolverine.
Jean changed her tactic, pulling her glasses from her nose and placing them with deliberate care on her desk.
"Ok, listen Thorn." Jean said calmly "Don't play games with me. I know you think you're better than me, and for all I know, maybe you are. But I want to help you. We've helped you as well as we can this past month and I believe we've done a hell of a job. So just do me the courtesy of returning the favor, all right? Or is that too much of a challenge for you?"
Thorn stared, surprised. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread across her lips. "I never refuse a challenge," She replied, her voice filled with newfound respect.
Jean returned the gesture, full of relief. "Thank you. Now...first of all, how old are you?"
Though the question was a simple one, a look of concentration appeared on the patient's face. She silently calculated, ticking years and events off on her fingers.
"I think...24...maybe 25," Thorn said uncertainly.
"You don't know?" Jean queried, incredulously.
"Well, I've been on my own since I was 13...I spent a year in the orphanage before I ran, then about 2 in the city, almost 5 around, and 5 at the barn." Thorn concluded.
"Around?
"Just...around," Thorn said, "You know..."
"Not really," Jean admitted.
"Ohhh...Kay..." Thorn murmured, "Like, I dunno...homeless, for lack of a better term. " Seeing Jean's raised eyebrow, she attempted to elaborate.
"I mean, when you think of homelessness, you think, 'Oh, what a sad thing,' but I wasn't really like that...I was fine, almost happy. I learned a lot...I changed." She added. Jean wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Where are you from, anyway?" Jean asked her.
"I'm not sure," Thorn confessed, " I kind of remember pieces of it, but I learned that it's better not to dwell on the past. So I forgot."
"Do you remember your parents?" Jean inquired, even more confused by her subjects answers than she had been before the appointment.
"Of course I do," Thorn responded irately "I did used to be a normal kid once, just like everyone else." Her eyes seemed to look past Jean, seeing a picture no one else could and her voice was vacant, as though she was very far away.
"We lived in a big house, with a greenhouse built on the back. They were botanist, you know. They never hurt anyone, ever...they didn't deserve what they got..."
She blinked, breaking the silent spell. Jean was startled, realizing she had been leaning forward, hanging on Thorn's every word. She found herself disappointed, knowing that Thorn wasn't ready to talk of her past to her, or anyone else for that matter. But there was no harm in trying, right?
"How did your parents die Thorn?" Jean queried gently.
But Thorn had suddenly become very interested in a painting hanging over Jean's left shoulder. She gestured to it. "Is that genuine?" She asked with utmost politeness.
Jean heaved a sigh and settled her glasses back onto her nose. This was going to be a long day...
~^*^~
Dr Hank McCoy is...startling. I won't tell you he's scary because several other students have likened him to an enormous blue kitten. Not exactly an image to strike fear into one's heart. But the image of a huge, ape-like man with tiny spectacles does surprise you somewhat. No matter how cuddly he is.
Thorn acknowledged the doctor with a cocked eyebrows and her slightly cynical smile. He nodded politely.
"Today Miss...er...Thorn, we're going to be running a few tests." He informed her, studying her over his clipboard.
"I don't like tests." Thorn replied sharply.
"They're simple procedures, really, won't take long..." Hank started in a would-be-soothing voice.
"I. Don't. Like. Tests."
"Err...point taken. We'll simply postpone those examinations until further notice, shall we?" Hank quickly rifled through his papers. "Oh my stars and garters..." He murmured.
"I believe...you're scheduled for the Danger Room," He told her.
"Which is aptly named, I'm sure," Thorn muttered.
Hank had grown slightly suspicious when Jean had seemed so eager to hand the patient over. Then he had met the woman whose temper was legendary, as was her tongue. Hank had to admit he was expecting quite a show, but surely Thorn was still too much of a novice to run these simulations?
He led the young woman to the metal door appropriately labeled The Danger Room. "Don't panic," He advised her "It's a simulation; we can stop it whenever we like."
In answer Thorn cracked her neck and fingers. "No prob Dr. McCoy." She shot him a fanatical, kamikaze grin and disappeared through the door. Hank shook his head and headed for the observation booth.
This was going to be a long day...
~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~
So...is it any good? Please review and feed the starving imagination of my soul!!! Consider this...there is a possibility that if you don't review, my Chi will become unbalanced and I will go insane. Not a big loss...but still.
Coming Soon: A Lesson in Self-Defense
Author's Note: Sorry this chapters so short and it took so long, but my computer had viruses, my brother had projects, and I had homework. Not good combinations. I also realized that since X2 is coming out next month, there's not much reason for me to continue. I'd love to, but I guess I'll have to label this as an AU and hope to Gott in himmel that you people keep reading!!!! Well, this chapter's just an interlude and is short, but it ties into a future chapter. Continue on, read and review!! Thanx!!!
~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*
Thorn strode through the halls of the school, admiring the magnificent mansion in a detached sort of way. She was wearing her best outfit, which isn't saying much, but she thought she looked fairly decent. Her hair had been thoroughly washed and braided, making it look much nicer, and tamer, than usual. It wasn't that she was a dirty person really, it's just that she was much more comfortable with dirt than most people. She certainly didn't even attempt to look as immaculate as these people did.
Thorn turned her head to glance out a passing window, causing her thick brown braid to swing and slap her lightly on the tan jacket she wore over her dark brown tank top. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her khaki pants, of which both legs were slitted to give them the appearance of flaring out over her sandaled feet. Most of her wardrobe consisted of tank tops, cutoffs, and shorts, and as far as she was concerned, that was good enough for her. She couldn't even recall the last time she had worn a dress.or maybe she just didn't want to remember that far back.
Thorn quickly chased such thoughts from her head. She was on her way to an appointment with a psychic after all. Who knew what personal information she could 'accidentally' impart?
She reached Jean's office quicker than she expected to. Thorn stared at the heavy oaken door, as if she wished she could see right through it. Of course, nothing happened and Thorn pushed the door open with a sigh.
Really, she suspected that the real reason she'd been dreading this 'appointment' was because she hated shrinks. After The Accident, They'd made her see a whole bunch of 'em. Not that it had done her any good.
In fact, she'd always found psychiatrists extremely irritating. Especially the way the docs had used all those psychological terms, like referring to things important with capital letters. The Accident. Them. Your Parents.
Unfortunately, the terms had stuck, even after she had run away. Now, in the rare moments when she reflected on anything critical to her past, she thought in capitals. And if that wasn't annoying.
Jean looked up from her desk as the door opened with a creak. A smile crossed her face. "Thorn!" She greeted, as though she was surprised to see the patient. Yeah. Right. Psychic, remember?
Thorn replied in a similar fashion, albeit with a little less enthusiasm. She sat smoothly on one of the stuffed chairs facing the desk before Jean could ask her to lie on the couch. That was always humiliating.
"So..." Jean said, her hands folded in front of her.
"So...what?" Thorn inquired.
"Let's talk about where you're from," Jean suggested.
"What? Can't you just read my mind and figure it out?" Thorn said this with the utmost sweetness, though a smug smile crossed her face.
Jean sighed "Thorn, neither the professor nor I will ever read your mind without permission. That's an invasion of privacy. Besides, I would much rather hear it from your lips than your thoughts," She explained wearily.
Yet Jean understood there was a different side to what Thorn said; both she and the professor had done a brief mindscan when Thorn had first arrived and had received similar results. Entering her subconscious, they had found themselves in a setting straight from "the Secret Garden", complete with stone walls covered in ivy. Several doors were in the wall: one that led to her thoughts, another to her intelligence, and another to her memories. The door leading to her memories was blanketed completely with ivy and vines covered in thorns: an unbreachable barrier. Both psychics realized immediately that, despite this, they could trust Thorn and hadn't attempted a mindscan since then.
"How's the rash coming?" Thorn inquired innocently.
The small grudge Jean had held against the newcomer surfaced. There had been an incident after they had left the barn when Thorn had informed them that the curtain of vines covering the entrance to her barn was actually poison ivy. That had been Jean's first experience of bathing in Calamine oil. Not a pleasant experience.
Jean sighed mentally. She'd gone through this before, with another patient, in another time.
She recalled her first meeting with Thorn; she'd thought then that the strange, independent young woman had reminded her of someone. It wasn't until later, though, that Jean had realized who it was.
None other than the fierce Wolverine.
Jean changed her tactic, pulling her glasses from her nose and placing them with deliberate care on her desk.
"Ok, listen Thorn." Jean said calmly "Don't play games with me. I know you think you're better than me, and for all I know, maybe you are. But I want to help you. We've helped you as well as we can this past month and I believe we've done a hell of a job. So just do me the courtesy of returning the favor, all right? Or is that too much of a challenge for you?"
Thorn stared, surprised. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread across her lips. "I never refuse a challenge," She replied, her voice filled with newfound respect.
Jean returned the gesture, full of relief. "Thank you. Now...first of all, how old are you?"
Though the question was a simple one, a look of concentration appeared on the patient's face. She silently calculated, ticking years and events off on her fingers.
"I think...24...maybe 25," Thorn said uncertainly.
"You don't know?" Jean queried, incredulously.
"Well, I've been on my own since I was 13...I spent a year in the orphanage before I ran, then about 2 in the city, almost 5 around, and 5 at the barn." Thorn concluded.
"Around?
"Just...around," Thorn said, "You know..."
"Not really," Jean admitted.
"Ohhh...Kay..." Thorn murmured, "Like, I dunno...homeless, for lack of a better term. " Seeing Jean's raised eyebrow, she attempted to elaborate.
"I mean, when you think of homelessness, you think, 'Oh, what a sad thing,' but I wasn't really like that...I was fine, almost happy. I learned a lot...I changed." She added. Jean wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"Where are you from, anyway?" Jean asked her.
"I'm not sure," Thorn confessed, " I kind of remember pieces of it, but I learned that it's better not to dwell on the past. So I forgot."
"Do you remember your parents?" Jean inquired, even more confused by her subjects answers than she had been before the appointment.
"Of course I do," Thorn responded irately "I did used to be a normal kid once, just like everyone else." Her eyes seemed to look past Jean, seeing a picture no one else could and her voice was vacant, as though she was very far away.
"We lived in a big house, with a greenhouse built on the back. They were botanist, you know. They never hurt anyone, ever...they didn't deserve what they got..."
She blinked, breaking the silent spell. Jean was startled, realizing she had been leaning forward, hanging on Thorn's every word. She found herself disappointed, knowing that Thorn wasn't ready to talk of her past to her, or anyone else for that matter. But there was no harm in trying, right?
"How did your parents die Thorn?" Jean queried gently.
But Thorn had suddenly become very interested in a painting hanging over Jean's left shoulder. She gestured to it. "Is that genuine?" She asked with utmost politeness.
Jean heaved a sigh and settled her glasses back onto her nose. This was going to be a long day...
~^*^~
Dr Hank McCoy is...startling. I won't tell you he's scary because several other students have likened him to an enormous blue kitten. Not exactly an image to strike fear into one's heart. But the image of a huge, ape-like man with tiny spectacles does surprise you somewhat. No matter how cuddly he is.
Thorn acknowledged the doctor with a cocked eyebrows and her slightly cynical smile. He nodded politely.
"Today Miss...er...Thorn, we're going to be running a few tests." He informed her, studying her over his clipboard.
"I don't like tests." Thorn replied sharply.
"They're simple procedures, really, won't take long..." Hank started in a would-be-soothing voice.
"I. Don't. Like. Tests."
"Err...point taken. We'll simply postpone those examinations until further notice, shall we?" Hank quickly rifled through his papers. "Oh my stars and garters..." He murmured.
"I believe...you're scheduled for the Danger Room," He told her.
"Which is aptly named, I'm sure," Thorn muttered.
Hank had grown slightly suspicious when Jean had seemed so eager to hand the patient over. Then he had met the woman whose temper was legendary, as was her tongue. Hank had to admit he was expecting quite a show, but surely Thorn was still too much of a novice to run these simulations?
He led the young woman to the metal door appropriately labeled The Danger Room. "Don't panic," He advised her "It's a simulation; we can stop it whenever we like."
In answer Thorn cracked her neck and fingers. "No prob Dr. McCoy." She shot him a fanatical, kamikaze grin and disappeared through the door. Hank shook his head and headed for the observation booth.
This was going to be a long day...
~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~^*^~
So...is it any good? Please review and feed the starving imagination of my soul!!! Consider this...there is a possibility that if you don't review, my Chi will become unbalanced and I will go insane. Not a big loss...but still.
Coming Soon: A Lesson in Self-Defense
