Flickering Souls

Chapter Nineteen: Christmas Eve Again – The Gift of Hope

"You're going to make me forget this, aren't you?" Rogue asked nervously.

"I was going to." He admitted. "Because you weren't a main character in this one." He paused. "Do you want to remember it?"

"Ah don't know for sure, but Ah think I do. I mean, it happened – and I signed the contract that helped it happen. Ah feel entitled."

"Sounds reasonable." He volunteered. "Scott wont remember you know. Not until he breaks up with Jean permanently. Then he'll get it all back."

"When it doesn't matter anymore." Rogue nodded her understanding

"And he'll be content with that." The Author smiled.

"But … there's still something ah just don't understand … about you, and your world ah guess." She hesitated.

"What is it?" He asked softly.

"Why do you do this?" She asked him plainly. "Why do you watch us like this? And write us? What do you get out of it?"

He sat back in his chair and eyed her for a moment. Then he turned away and looked out the window.

"You live in what I call a PG world." He told her. "My world would need a different alphabet to get a proper rating."

He cast a glance back to her to see if she was listening. She was.

"My world has a saying – about God really, but it applies to heroes too." He seemed thoughtful and considerate of his next words. "It says that if these things did not exist – we would create them out of necessity."

He paused. "Because we have atrocities that make your worlds horrors seem like Saturday morning television."

"Is it really … that bad?" She asked slowly.

"No." He said. "It's really beautiful when it's left to it's own devices. But people in my world cant leave well enough alone. And it's all unbalanced, forever waiting to over-react."

He could tell by the look in her eye that he had lost her.

"So much so that our president can go to war without the approval of congress, but I can't light my disposable American flag lighter without taking off the safety first." He nodded.

She smiled then laughed, despite herself, trying to cover her mouth. "Ah'm sorry, but that's really sick."

He smiled back. "I know." He shrugged. "So we need heroes. And that's why we watch you, why I write you, and why I can't think of anywhere else I would rather be. Particularly for the holidays."

He smiled at her fondly. "Tell me, before I send you home, is there anything else? Something I could do for you, for the holiday tomorrow?"

She paused, demurely. "Ah'm fine, but …" She seemed to be smiling at a memory.

He waited patiently for her to continue.

"Scott. He likes fresh snow for Christmas." She explained.

"Done." He smiled and very quietly clapped his hands together in front of him, once, and Rogue vanished in to a cloud of sweet blue perfume.

He then turned his attention back out the window. And he made the snow begin to fall.

Epilogue: Christmas Morning

Rogue crept down the stairs. She could hear Kurt talking below.

"See? I told you so." He was saying.

"You're right." Scott confirmed. "It looks totally different from down here."

"Last years vas smaller." Kurt continued.

"No question." Scott agreed. "This years tree is definitely … huge."

Rogue was rounding the stairs and almost fell over Scott and Kurt – who were sitting on the floor at the base of the stairs– almost under the tree.

"Rogue, come sit here." Kurt called to her.

"No thanks." She said, eyeing the floor but smiling none the less.

Scott reached up and snatched her by the sleeve and pulled her down next to him. "Sorry." He explained. "But it took Kurt half an hour to convince me to try it – and I just can't listen to it any more." He smiled.

"Look up." Scott told her.

And she did.

"Whoa." She blinked three or four times and wiped at her eyes.

Suddenly, the scent of the thick and hearty pine hit her like a playfully thrown Christmas scrapbook, and she too was enthralled.

"It's the only way to get the full effect. You miss half the tree when you're standing next to it." Kurt explained, plugging in the lights.

And he did seem to be correct, because there, stretching out before them was, perhaps, Bayville's largest non-public Christmas tree.

It was strung in gold and blue tinsel, with small blue and white lights, and tastefully dotted with ornaments; no two alike, and all made so as to depict stars as seen from space.

And high atop the tree, in the place of the traditional star, there was a fiber-optic display. It was a fountain of fluid blue and white sparkles that seemed to flow up, out of the tree, and then cascade down, seemingly to become the softly twinkling lights nestled within the branches.

Only Kurt heard the soft tapping from outside.

Or the gentle "Caw" of the bird as it swept away from the house and across the lawn.

Rogue and Scott didn't even notice when he stood up and crossed over to the door.

They didn't hear it open or close again after he stepped out.

So it follows to believe that they never saw the small gift-wrapped box or read the card that held his name.

Or saw him open the little box, and then close it again, in a tearful gratitude.

He searched the tree line and then the fence before he found what he was looking for.

He smiled, and opened the box again. This time pulling out the thin gold chain with it's square ruby charm and pulling it on, over his head.

The bird cawed again and then was gone.

"Kurt?" The Professor wheeled out slowly, pausing to close the door behind him. "Did I just feel …"

"Hope, Professor." Kurt whispered slowly, casting his eyes from his necklace to the now empty fence.

He turned to face Xavier. "And even if you didn't feel it, don't worry about it."

He cast his gaze back across the lawn. "Because … I veel it enough for everyone." And Kurt smiled. "Alvmost all da time." Then, with great care, he wiped his eyes and opened the mansion door for the Professor.