Chapter 5
Cruel Intentions
- Part 1 -
I was "awake" long before I opened my eyes. I'm always getting a visual on my surroundings from my radar sense. So I could 'see' that there were two people sitting on the left-hand side of the bed I was laying in. One was Ororo and the other was a girl that I hadn't met.
My head ached dully - like it had been squeezed in a vice. I remembered pains like that from a long time ago. I probably hurt from the work out I had given my powers. What happened, I wondered groggily? Then the recent memories came flooding back. Sentinels! Attacking! I sat up quickly, in spite of the pain, tossing the bed covers off. The girl jumped, but Ororo smiled serenely at me, placing a calming hand upon her companion's arm. "We were under attack," I stammered, looking this way and that, as if robots might jump out from the shadows.
"We returned to the mansion," Ororo said - as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Huh?" I said intelligently. Instead of waiting for an explanation, I began reaching out with my scanning power. We weren't on Murray Avenue any longer - probably not anywhere near CMU. I 'saw' a pretty large estate with extensive grounds. I doubted we were even in Pittsburgh.
"You passed out," the younger girl explained, overcoming her surprise. She was very petite, and cute in a little-kid-sort-of-way. She stepped up close to the bed, looking.
"I see," I said to Ororo. There was a moment of silence while I studied Ororo hard. "You're okay?" It was more of a statement than a question. I gave her a once over - internal and out - scanning for bruises, broken bones, etc. Not even a scratch.
"I am in good health, Tres." I felt an intense wave of relief when and let out a long deep breath. "But I saw you . . ." I started. But how do you say "I saw you burned to a crisp?" to someone in a polite way. Instead, I focused on Ororo's young counterpart, who had crept a little closer still, staring hard at me. "What?" I finally asked.
"Sorry," she said, abashed. "It's your eyes.I mean I've seen black kids before, but none that look like you and Ororo," she said, tossing an adoring glance over her shoulder at the older woman. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes at her. She had to be about 14 or so.and probably didn't know any better. I tabled my annoyance with her and leaned forward.
"As far as I know - I'm the only one of my kind," I said just above a whisper. Blond hair - really blond hair - and green eyes contrasted sharply with my rich brown skin, that had just a hint of red undertones. Not too many guys walking around that looked like me. Although appearances could be deceiving.
"Ororo said the same thing," the young girl stated. "I'm Kitty," she said after a moment, sticking out a small hand. I smiled at her. She's just a kid, I reminded myself while shaking her tiny hand. She smiled back at me.
"Tres," I said.
"Tres? Like the number '3' in Spanish?" she asked. Not it was my turn to be impressed.
"Yeah - just like that." I smiled again. Sharp little kid.
"I heard how you beat up that Sentinel. Neat," she chatted on.
"Thanks," I said, running my hands through my hair and shaking my head slightly. I felt anything but neat at the moment. More like someone had run over my head with a street sweeper. Repeatedly. "Where are we?"
"West Chester, New York," Ororo said. "The X-Men defeated the remaining Sentinels. The best course of action to minimize media involvement was to retreat to the mansion. We were not pursued." She regarded me with her sky-colored gaze.
I was beginning to see how the X-Men got a bad reputation. Ororo & Co. appeared and disaster followed right behind them. But that was a little crass of me to say, considering they had brought me back to their home with them. Especially since this last incident had my name stamped all over it. I looked at Ororo - Storm - again. "Storm," I said aloud, sounding out the name.
I tried to contrast the peaceful woman sitting before me with the cape-clad warrior capable of the acts I'd witnessed in Pittsburgh. Her code name was certainly apropos. I tried to make it stick in my head, but Ororo was what I knew her as. It just seemed to fit her.
"In the public arena, Storm is my code name. Here at home, I am but Ororo," she said.
"Is everyone else okay?" I asked suddenly. I was still a little woozy from the mass-discharge. I'd never done that before.
"Everyone is fine," she said.
"I see," I said. Too many things were happening at once. Some one had tried to kill me today. I'd met the X-Men, been cornered into admitting my mutancy and then carted off to New York while I was unconscious. Could anything else possibly go wrong? "What a day," I muttered under my breath.
"It has indeed been that," Professor Xavier said, wheeled into the infirmary by Peter. He was followed closely by a tall, almost strutting, blond who all but screamed "Silver Spoon". What really drew my attention to him were the pair of large fluffy white wings on his back. Peter smiled at me, and the winged guy gave me a cursory glance. I got the distinct impression that he was turning his nose up at me and decided right off that I didn't like him very much.
"You've met Kitty Pryde, Ororo Munroe, and Peter Rasputin," Professor Xavier was saying. "This is another of my students, Warren Worthington, III," he introduced the fourth member of the group - of the X-Men, I corrected myself.
"I'm Tres, nice to meet you," I greeted, extending my hand. We shook hands and he flashed me a perfectly white smile that was genuinely warm.
"Nice to meet you, too," he replied, grasping my hand firmly. "Welcome to West Chester," he added. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
"So - you're all X-Men?" I said giving the group a once over. There was a variety of nods and 'Yes's' from the assemblage.
"How do you feel, Tovarisch?" That was from Peter.
"Fine," I replied. I tried to put on a good front - but I was pretty shook up from the whole ordeal. I remembered exactly what had happened, but it had that surreal quality, kind of the way you remember a dream right after you wake up. "Thanks, Peter" I added, almost forgetting my manners.
I observed Professor Xavier studying me intently. "Kitty, Warren, Peter, will you please excuse Ororo and I. We have some things we need to discuss with Mr. Darkmoon." Here comes the Headmaster- of-the-School role, again. Peter and the rest left with a chorus of friendly good-byes, before closing the door behind them. There was a brief moment of silence where I shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the Professor.
"That was quite an impressive display, Mr. Darkmoon," Professor Xavier said after a moment.
"Thank you, Sir," I said quietly, not quite able to meet his gaze.
"Did you have any idea that you were capable of such an act?" he asked. He sat a little bit forward in his chair.
"No, Sir." I looked down. I felt . . . something akin to fear at what I'd done. But there was also an excitement. I'd never pushed my powers to that level before. It was kind of a perverse joy to know what I could really do. But I tried to keep such improper feelings to myself - at least as much as I could around the present company.
"What are you afraid of Tres?" Ororo asked me that. She looked so full of compassion and concern that it nearly put me at ease.
What could I say? I wouldn't admit to being afraid. Fear was a weakness as far as I was concerned. And I certainly didn't want to admit that. "Nothing." But I had to come up with a better excuse than that. "It's just. . . I've been hiding my powers for so long. I just don't want anyone to get hurt when I use them." Or not use them.Ororo nodded, but the Professor was so solemn - he would've easily been able to tell I was holding back on the whole truth. Well that was just too damned bad, he wasn't getting any more information out of me. That was for sure.
"I should get back to school," I said after a moment. The X-Men weren't the only one's who knew how to retire from a situation. Ororo and the Professor exchanged a Look.
"We do not feel that would be the best course of action," Ororo said, simply. I opened my mouth to reply but was quickly cut off by Xavier.
"We were attacked today, Mr. Darkmoon," Xavier said. "Attacked by forces we had believed to be destroyed. Furthermore, I believe that you were the target of the assault. If so, there could be more. You may not be able to repulse future confrontations by yourself. It would be in your best interests to remain here at the school for the time being." He folded his hands across his lap awaiting my decision at the end of his speech.
My stomach had twisted itself into a pretzel - future confrontations? I considered for a few moments. "I guess you're right," I agreed coolly. Ororo nodded her approval. "But I have to go back on Monday - I've got finals. And I'll have to fly back for my books tonight so I can study." Thinking about tests and schoolwork took my mind away from the fact that someone might be trying to... I shook my head to dispel the ominous thoughts.
Xavier nodded. "Of course, your education is of paramount concern. You are permitted to return to your dormitory to acquire the necessary materials." I paused, somewhat stupefied. Permitted? I didn't realize I'd had to ask for authorization.and didn't really like the idea that my freedom was suddenly impugned.
"An escort would be a wise precaution, Professor," Ororo said. I stifled a remark about not needing a babysitter.
"My thoughts exactly, Ororo. I would be remiss in my duties as Headmaster and as a telepath if I did not believe that you had just volunteered for the position," he said diplomatically. Ororo consented.
Well at least if it's Ororo - someone I know pretty well, relatively speaking. "When do we leave?" I asked, adjusting to the idea of Ororo accompanying me back to Pittsburgh.
"We've arranged a room for you, Mr. Darkmoon - one you're welcomed to use while we determine the nature of your - our - assailants and the reasons behind it. However, before you and Ororo depart, I'd like to discuss the nature of your mutant powers." I looked down at the white hospital-like bed which I'd been resting and exhaled slowly and deeply to keep from jumping off the bed and making for the nearest exit. "This was not the first time you've used your abilities to defend yourself?"
"No, Sir."
"Hmmmmmmmm," he cogitated briefly. "When was the first time you evidenced your mutant powers?"
I paused. "When I was 15." I smiled thinking back to that day. "I remember the first time I really knew I was different. It was in the summer, school was out... I'd been having these migraines for weeks and I'd been trying to keep my parents from knowing how much pain I was in. I used to keep a bottle of aspirin hidden in between the mattresses in case it got too bad.
"I had a really bad headache one night - I was up until about 3 am. I woke up the next day well after noon. I'd just finished eating lunch and I'd gone to the basement for something. I was careless. Somehow I slipped and fell down the steps. I should have been killed," I said looking at the wall. "But I wasn't. I flew. For the first time. That day."
"Have you ever evinced any need for an external stimuli to exercise your abilities?" he asked.
I reviewed the few uses of my powers. "Uh . . . No. Not that I am aware of."
"Do you have any understanding of how your abilities work?" he asked me. I could feel his eyes boring into mine. At first I refused to meet his gaze, then reconsidered. I'm not afraid of anyone or anything, I reminded myself. I looked him straight in the eye, feeling more confident.
"No. Not really. I think it may have something to do with light, but I haven't really studied the why's and how's of my mutant powers," I lied.
"I see," Xavier said. He contemplated me for a few minutes. "I have a theory regarding the nature of your powers that I would like to test. Once you have returned to the mansion, we will schedule a preliminary session in the Danger Room to test my hypothesis. Although, after today's demonstration, I feel I am quite accurate in my current understanding."
Does this guy ever leave anything to chance? "Okay," I agreed without thinking. Damn it! He's doing it again. I quickly stifled that thought before he snatched it up. "What's the Danger Room?"
"It is the training facility the X-Men use to sharpen our special talents, individually and as a team," Ororo explained.
"Okay," I thought. That still made for a wide variety of scenarios.and the name - 'Danger Room'. That couldn't be a good thing, right?
"How do you feel, Tres?" Ororo asked.
"Fine," I replied. In truth, I was just a little worn out. College life was hard and the sudden resurgence of my abilities - especially at the level I'd recently exercised them was my most likely reason for me passing out. That didn't quite have the ring of truth to it, but I refused to entertain any other options.
Xavier nodded. "Fatigue was the most logical explanation for your unconscious state. A detailed examination corroborated this," he explained. "Your pulse and breathing were normal. You were merely exhausted by using your powers at such a level."
"Hmmmm," was all I said in agreement. "I feel fine now, though."
Ororo took that as a cue to get things in motion. "Since you feel able, we can depart for your campus now. We will return before midnight, Professor," she said to him.
"Don't push yourself too hard," Professor Xavier advised me. "You've just begun using your powers again recently. The physiological strain that has been placed on your body of late has left you in a weakened condition." I balked at that. "In order to facilitate the process of re-integrating your mutant abilities back into your normal regime, it would behoove you not to overexert yourself."
"Will do," I consented, only slightly wearied by his constant lecturing. I slipped off the side of the bed. Ororo rose, facing me. "I'm ready when you are," I told her.
- End Part 1 -
* * * * *
This story © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2001 Marvel Comics Group.
This story is not for sale and is not to be distributed without
permission of the author.
Please electronically mail comments to CommanderInChf@aol.com.
All constructive criticism is appreciated.
Cruel Intentions
- Part 1 -
I was "awake" long before I opened my eyes. I'm always getting a visual on my surroundings from my radar sense. So I could 'see' that there were two people sitting on the left-hand side of the bed I was laying in. One was Ororo and the other was a girl that I hadn't met.
My head ached dully - like it had been squeezed in a vice. I remembered pains like that from a long time ago. I probably hurt from the work out I had given my powers. What happened, I wondered groggily? Then the recent memories came flooding back. Sentinels! Attacking! I sat up quickly, in spite of the pain, tossing the bed covers off. The girl jumped, but Ororo smiled serenely at me, placing a calming hand upon her companion's arm. "We were under attack," I stammered, looking this way and that, as if robots might jump out from the shadows.
"We returned to the mansion," Ororo said - as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Huh?" I said intelligently. Instead of waiting for an explanation, I began reaching out with my scanning power. We weren't on Murray Avenue any longer - probably not anywhere near CMU. I 'saw' a pretty large estate with extensive grounds. I doubted we were even in Pittsburgh.
"You passed out," the younger girl explained, overcoming her surprise. She was very petite, and cute in a little-kid-sort-of-way. She stepped up close to the bed, looking.
"I see," I said to Ororo. There was a moment of silence while I studied Ororo hard. "You're okay?" It was more of a statement than a question. I gave her a once over - internal and out - scanning for bruises, broken bones, etc. Not even a scratch.
"I am in good health, Tres." I felt an intense wave of relief when and let out a long deep breath. "But I saw you . . ." I started. But how do you say "I saw you burned to a crisp?" to someone in a polite way. Instead, I focused on Ororo's young counterpart, who had crept a little closer still, staring hard at me. "What?" I finally asked.
"Sorry," she said, abashed. "It's your eyes.I mean I've seen black kids before, but none that look like you and Ororo," she said, tossing an adoring glance over her shoulder at the older woman. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes at her. She had to be about 14 or so.and probably didn't know any better. I tabled my annoyance with her and leaned forward.
"As far as I know - I'm the only one of my kind," I said just above a whisper. Blond hair - really blond hair - and green eyes contrasted sharply with my rich brown skin, that had just a hint of red undertones. Not too many guys walking around that looked like me. Although appearances could be deceiving.
"Ororo said the same thing," the young girl stated. "I'm Kitty," she said after a moment, sticking out a small hand. I smiled at her. She's just a kid, I reminded myself while shaking her tiny hand. She smiled back at me.
"Tres," I said.
"Tres? Like the number '3' in Spanish?" she asked. Not it was my turn to be impressed.
"Yeah - just like that." I smiled again. Sharp little kid.
"I heard how you beat up that Sentinel. Neat," she chatted on.
"Thanks," I said, running my hands through my hair and shaking my head slightly. I felt anything but neat at the moment. More like someone had run over my head with a street sweeper. Repeatedly. "Where are we?"
"West Chester, New York," Ororo said. "The X-Men defeated the remaining Sentinels. The best course of action to minimize media involvement was to retreat to the mansion. We were not pursued." She regarded me with her sky-colored gaze.
I was beginning to see how the X-Men got a bad reputation. Ororo & Co. appeared and disaster followed right behind them. But that was a little crass of me to say, considering they had brought me back to their home with them. Especially since this last incident had my name stamped all over it. I looked at Ororo - Storm - again. "Storm," I said aloud, sounding out the name.
I tried to contrast the peaceful woman sitting before me with the cape-clad warrior capable of the acts I'd witnessed in Pittsburgh. Her code name was certainly apropos. I tried to make it stick in my head, but Ororo was what I knew her as. It just seemed to fit her.
"In the public arena, Storm is my code name. Here at home, I am but Ororo," she said.
"Is everyone else okay?" I asked suddenly. I was still a little woozy from the mass-discharge. I'd never done that before.
"Everyone is fine," she said.
"I see," I said. Too many things were happening at once. Some one had tried to kill me today. I'd met the X-Men, been cornered into admitting my mutancy and then carted off to New York while I was unconscious. Could anything else possibly go wrong? "What a day," I muttered under my breath.
"It has indeed been that," Professor Xavier said, wheeled into the infirmary by Peter. He was followed closely by a tall, almost strutting, blond who all but screamed "Silver Spoon". What really drew my attention to him were the pair of large fluffy white wings on his back. Peter smiled at me, and the winged guy gave me a cursory glance. I got the distinct impression that he was turning his nose up at me and decided right off that I didn't like him very much.
"You've met Kitty Pryde, Ororo Munroe, and Peter Rasputin," Professor Xavier was saying. "This is another of my students, Warren Worthington, III," he introduced the fourth member of the group - of the X-Men, I corrected myself.
"I'm Tres, nice to meet you," I greeted, extending my hand. We shook hands and he flashed me a perfectly white smile that was genuinely warm.
"Nice to meet you, too," he replied, grasping my hand firmly. "Welcome to West Chester," he added. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
"So - you're all X-Men?" I said giving the group a once over. There was a variety of nods and 'Yes's' from the assemblage.
"How do you feel, Tovarisch?" That was from Peter.
"Fine," I replied. I tried to put on a good front - but I was pretty shook up from the whole ordeal. I remembered exactly what had happened, but it had that surreal quality, kind of the way you remember a dream right after you wake up. "Thanks, Peter" I added, almost forgetting my manners.
I observed Professor Xavier studying me intently. "Kitty, Warren, Peter, will you please excuse Ororo and I. We have some things we need to discuss with Mr. Darkmoon." Here comes the Headmaster- of-the-School role, again. Peter and the rest left with a chorus of friendly good-byes, before closing the door behind them. There was a brief moment of silence where I shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the Professor.
"That was quite an impressive display, Mr. Darkmoon," Professor Xavier said after a moment.
"Thank you, Sir," I said quietly, not quite able to meet his gaze.
"Did you have any idea that you were capable of such an act?" he asked. He sat a little bit forward in his chair.
"No, Sir." I looked down. I felt . . . something akin to fear at what I'd done. But there was also an excitement. I'd never pushed my powers to that level before. It was kind of a perverse joy to know what I could really do. But I tried to keep such improper feelings to myself - at least as much as I could around the present company.
"What are you afraid of Tres?" Ororo asked me that. She looked so full of compassion and concern that it nearly put me at ease.
What could I say? I wouldn't admit to being afraid. Fear was a weakness as far as I was concerned. And I certainly didn't want to admit that. "Nothing." But I had to come up with a better excuse than that. "It's just. . . I've been hiding my powers for so long. I just don't want anyone to get hurt when I use them." Or not use them.Ororo nodded, but the Professor was so solemn - he would've easily been able to tell I was holding back on the whole truth. Well that was just too damned bad, he wasn't getting any more information out of me. That was for sure.
"I should get back to school," I said after a moment. The X-Men weren't the only one's who knew how to retire from a situation. Ororo and the Professor exchanged a Look.
"We do not feel that would be the best course of action," Ororo said, simply. I opened my mouth to reply but was quickly cut off by Xavier.
"We were attacked today, Mr. Darkmoon," Xavier said. "Attacked by forces we had believed to be destroyed. Furthermore, I believe that you were the target of the assault. If so, there could be more. You may not be able to repulse future confrontations by yourself. It would be in your best interests to remain here at the school for the time being." He folded his hands across his lap awaiting my decision at the end of his speech.
My stomach had twisted itself into a pretzel - future confrontations? I considered for a few moments. "I guess you're right," I agreed coolly. Ororo nodded her approval. "But I have to go back on Monday - I've got finals. And I'll have to fly back for my books tonight so I can study." Thinking about tests and schoolwork took my mind away from the fact that someone might be trying to... I shook my head to dispel the ominous thoughts.
Xavier nodded. "Of course, your education is of paramount concern. You are permitted to return to your dormitory to acquire the necessary materials." I paused, somewhat stupefied. Permitted? I didn't realize I'd had to ask for authorization.and didn't really like the idea that my freedom was suddenly impugned.
"An escort would be a wise precaution, Professor," Ororo said. I stifled a remark about not needing a babysitter.
"My thoughts exactly, Ororo. I would be remiss in my duties as Headmaster and as a telepath if I did not believe that you had just volunteered for the position," he said diplomatically. Ororo consented.
Well at least if it's Ororo - someone I know pretty well, relatively speaking. "When do we leave?" I asked, adjusting to the idea of Ororo accompanying me back to Pittsburgh.
"We've arranged a room for you, Mr. Darkmoon - one you're welcomed to use while we determine the nature of your - our - assailants and the reasons behind it. However, before you and Ororo depart, I'd like to discuss the nature of your mutant powers." I looked down at the white hospital-like bed which I'd been resting and exhaled slowly and deeply to keep from jumping off the bed and making for the nearest exit. "This was not the first time you've used your abilities to defend yourself?"
"No, Sir."
"Hmmmmmmmm," he cogitated briefly. "When was the first time you evidenced your mutant powers?"
I paused. "When I was 15." I smiled thinking back to that day. "I remember the first time I really knew I was different. It was in the summer, school was out... I'd been having these migraines for weeks and I'd been trying to keep my parents from knowing how much pain I was in. I used to keep a bottle of aspirin hidden in between the mattresses in case it got too bad.
"I had a really bad headache one night - I was up until about 3 am. I woke up the next day well after noon. I'd just finished eating lunch and I'd gone to the basement for something. I was careless. Somehow I slipped and fell down the steps. I should have been killed," I said looking at the wall. "But I wasn't. I flew. For the first time. That day."
"Have you ever evinced any need for an external stimuli to exercise your abilities?" he asked.
I reviewed the few uses of my powers. "Uh . . . No. Not that I am aware of."
"Do you have any understanding of how your abilities work?" he asked me. I could feel his eyes boring into mine. At first I refused to meet his gaze, then reconsidered. I'm not afraid of anyone or anything, I reminded myself. I looked him straight in the eye, feeling more confident.
"No. Not really. I think it may have something to do with light, but I haven't really studied the why's and how's of my mutant powers," I lied.
"I see," Xavier said. He contemplated me for a few minutes. "I have a theory regarding the nature of your powers that I would like to test. Once you have returned to the mansion, we will schedule a preliminary session in the Danger Room to test my hypothesis. Although, after today's demonstration, I feel I am quite accurate in my current understanding."
Does this guy ever leave anything to chance? "Okay," I agreed without thinking. Damn it! He's doing it again. I quickly stifled that thought before he snatched it up. "What's the Danger Room?"
"It is the training facility the X-Men use to sharpen our special talents, individually and as a team," Ororo explained.
"Okay," I thought. That still made for a wide variety of scenarios.and the name - 'Danger Room'. That couldn't be a good thing, right?
"How do you feel, Tres?" Ororo asked.
"Fine," I replied. In truth, I was just a little worn out. College life was hard and the sudden resurgence of my abilities - especially at the level I'd recently exercised them was my most likely reason for me passing out. That didn't quite have the ring of truth to it, but I refused to entertain any other options.
Xavier nodded. "Fatigue was the most logical explanation for your unconscious state. A detailed examination corroborated this," he explained. "Your pulse and breathing were normal. You were merely exhausted by using your powers at such a level."
"Hmmmm," was all I said in agreement. "I feel fine now, though."
Ororo took that as a cue to get things in motion. "Since you feel able, we can depart for your campus now. We will return before midnight, Professor," she said to him.
"Don't push yourself too hard," Professor Xavier advised me. "You've just begun using your powers again recently. The physiological strain that has been placed on your body of late has left you in a weakened condition." I balked at that. "In order to facilitate the process of re-integrating your mutant abilities back into your normal regime, it would behoove you not to overexert yourself."
"Will do," I consented, only slightly wearied by his constant lecturing. I slipped off the side of the bed. Ororo rose, facing me. "I'm ready when you are," I told her.
- End Part 1 -
* * * * *
This story © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2001 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2001 Marvel Comics Group.
This story is not for sale and is not to be distributed without
permission of the author.
Please electronically mail comments to CommanderInChf@aol.com.
All constructive criticism is appreciated.