Chapter 6
Winds of Fortune
#Knock, knock.# Someone rapped on the door. I bolted upright.
Ever been away at school, and then come home for Christmas break. That first morning you wake up in your old bed - even though its familiar - you still wake up feeling.disjoined. Out of place. It feels unnatural. The sun is coming in from a different angle, the smells are different, the furniture doesn't look right, and all the sounds are off.
Waking up in that strange bedroom in West Chester was like that.
Times a million.
I awoke with an abnormal morning alertness. There was a second of pure panic - the strange surroundings - then I let out a long sigh as the memories came flooding back. #Knock knock# came again. I unconsciously reached out with my power and checked to see who it was. Funny - how one day you can do a complete reversal; not using my powers at all, to having them take the place of something as simple as saying "Who is it?"
I "saw" the ever-attentive Kitty Pryde standing on the other side of the door, tapping one foot, in a stance of extreme patience. "Come in," I called. I smoothed back the covers, realizing I'd slept in my clothes. I had been tired.
"Geez - I didn't think you'd ever get up," she said, stalking into the room. "I've been knocking for five minutes!" She was such an odd mix of maturity and childish exuberance, it was almost comical. I had to smile, especially with the bright morning sunlight streaming in the window behind me. "Slept in your clothes?" Her lips pursed in disapproval. "Did you sleep well, at least?"
"Yeah - pretty well," I agreed. I ran my fingers through my tousled hair. I definitely had bed-head, today. It was such an ordinary thing to be concerned about, though, when you've just been hunted for sport and trashed several city blocks. I laughed at my own shallowness.
"What's so funny?" Kitty asked brows dipped in confusion.
I smiled to myself. "I'm in a mansion.in West Chester, after leaving Pittsburgh because fifty-foot tall mutant hunting robots were after me.Having been rescued by an outlaw team of mutant heroes. And I'm worried about how my hair looks . . . I've got priorities," I finished, shaking my head. Kitty laughed.
"Well - here's the deal," she said, sitting down in the chair. It was still in the same place she'd left it last night. "Professor X wanted me to come get you fitted for your costume, then for us to go down to the Danger Room to see the X-Men's practice session. But, Ororo said that you'd probably need your rest more than watching the team session today..."
"So I got a few more minutes of sleep. What time is it?" I asked, casting about for a clock.
"About 8:30. Team session and mine are over. Time for breakfast," she added cheerily.
"Okay. Can I shower, first?" I attempted to be polite, but I'm not much of a morning person. I stretched. It's amazing how a good night's sleep can make you feel so much better.
"Sure - just make it quick. Breakfast is soon. We have to hurry," she said imperiously.
"Okay, okay,." I said, rolling my eyes. I slid out of the bed. "Can you tell me where the shower is, please?"
"Sure thing," she said. She gave me the directions, including the location of fresh linens and I gathered my overnight bag in hand and headed down the hallway. Soon I was lathering up and singing away in the shower. Singing helped me to relax.and I certainly needed it after yesterday. I paused in the middle of rinsing shampoo from my hair to contemplate how quickly my life had gone from mediocre to unbelievable. Hard to believe that 24 hours ago I was just Tres the average college student.now I was Tres - superhero in training. Ugh, I thought washing the last of the soap from my blond tangles. I didn't even want to think about living that type of lifestyle.
Ever have one of those moments where time seems to slow down.when you're doing the really heavy thinking? When you've come to a profound understanding of . . . everything. I watched as the water cascaded down off my head, slowed as it rebounded off my shoulders, and pooled in my hands.then every drop stood still. I looked down in the shallow water. I thought I could almost see my reflection.And I knew. I knew it would never be the same. Life would never be the same. I'd never be the same. I'd never been the same.And it was time I'd stopped pretending.
But as quickly as those profound instances of protracted time begin - living in the moment, as it were - the realization crashes down on you and the moment is over. Hot water rained down upon me again, normally. I rinsed once more then ended my shower.
Normally, I would have dried with a towel, but today I used my powers to evaporate the water right off. It saved me a minute or two, which I needed. I tended to take long showers. What can I say? I loved the water.
I dressed hurriedly and headed back down to my room where Kitty was waiting expectantly. I tossed my overnight bag to the side, looking at the small sack containing just a few days worth of clothes. Clothes.X-Men clothes. "So a costume.?"
"Yeah - you get an X-Men uniform for the Danger Room sessions," Kitty informed me.
"A uniform.." Uh oh. "I see," I said in that tone that meant I'd really be 'seeing' later on. "Spandex?"
She laughed at my expression. "Don't worry, it's not so bad. You gotta have something that can withstand your powers. And if you're in a fight, you don't want your clothing to slow you down."
"Uh huh," I agreed.
"You'll get fitted after breakfast," she said. "For your session tomorrow morning." She guided us to the large stairway. On the walk down, Kitty explained to me about the costume-making machine that you programmed in your measurements and then which popped out garments by the dozen. You could design your own clothing in the machine - whatever you wanted. Kitty seemed especially excited by this; I wondered if she liked to play dress up.
We turned right at the bottom of the stairs and Kitty led us through the kitchen where Peter and someone I hadn't met were making breakfast. "Good morning," Kitty said brightly. I envied her incessant energy at this time in the morning. Peter favored her with a good-natured grin and wished us both a good morning.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Like a brick." I noticed the shorter man studying me hard. I didn't know quite what to make of him eyeing me, but I didn't think it was favorable. I shivered slightly under that gaze.
My thoughts must have been pretty obvious - let alone the body language - because Kitty suddenly chimed in with a. "Don't let ol' Wolverine intimidate ya. He's not a morning person either." So this was Wolverine.He extended a hand while Kitty made formal introductions. Always the perfect hostess.
"Nice to meet you Wolverine," I said.
"You too, kid," he replied. His voice was gruff and suited his stature - solid and tough. I found myself regarding him with the same type of intensity he'd favored me with as he and Peter walked from the kitchen with their food. I wondered what his power was.Intimidation, perhaps? Pretty useful in a fight, I bet. Just one glare and all your enemies run away. I chuckled to myself.
Meanwhile Kitty began opening cupboards, scrounging around for cereal. She asked me what I wanted, breaking my train of thought. "What did you say?"
"I said there's muffins over there, oatmeal, cereal, juice in the refrigerator," she repeated, indicated the respective locations.
"Okay - thanks. Where are the coffee mugs?" I asked, busying myself around the kitchen. I pulled a bowl from a cupboard she had left open and grabbed a couple of packs of instant oatmeal.
"Right over there."
"Thanks." I finished the oatmeal, mixing it with water and putting it in the microwave while I poured myself a cup of coffee and dug up some honey. Kitty and I quickly made our breakfast and she led us out of the kitchen in the obscenely large dining room where the rest of the X-Men had gathered.
"Hey - the kid finally wakes up," Warren teased, his too-bright smile gracing his features. "I thought you college frat guys slept until the mid afternoon."
"Only on days that end in 'Y'," I replied, sitting down next to him. Ororo sat to his right, with Professor Xavier at the head of the table. Peter, Wolverine, Kitty and.???? sat on the other side of the table. I didn't quite cover up my surprise at seeing the eighth member of the party and paused before sitting down across from him.
"Guten Tag," he said. His accent was strong, but not unpleasant. But his next words almost didn't register. "I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, yet. I am Kurt Wagner."
"Tres," I replied a little more glib than good manners would normally dictate. "Uh - Tres Darkmoon. Nice to meet you." I lowered myself slowly into my chair. Act calm. Act normal! It's not like you haven't seen strange things before, I chided myself.
Kurt was more than strange looking though. He was - unreal! Dark, dark, blue and fuzzy, with only three fingers on each hand. And a tail! And his eyes were yellow. He gave me a pleasant smile, but his brow creased ever so slightly, and I knew my attention had not gone unnoticed. I looked back at my bowl of oatmeal and wondered again for the millionth time what I had gotten myself into.
"I trust you slept well, Mr. Darkmoon," Professor Xavier said before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Very well, thank you," I said after swallowing a mouthful of honey- sweetened Quaker Oats. I sort of concentrated on my coffee and oatmeal, while quietly observing the group. The headmaster nodded politely before turning back to his conversation. He and Ororo seemed to be involved in some heavy discussion with Wolverine putting in a comment every now and then. Peter and Kurt and Kitty were engaged in some playful teasing. Warren had what looked like the Wall Street Journal folded crisply in his hand, his blue eyes roving over the columns of numbers quickly. Hmmmmm.
"Ororo and I had planned to go into town later," Warren said suddenly, not even glancing up from his paper. The early cheerfulness was gone and his tone was clipped and efficient. I had the sudden mental image of him in a dark charcoal gray suit sitting at a board meeting.I shook my head to dispel the thought. "Would you like to come along?"
"Ummmm.Thanks. But I should really study. How long will you be gone?"
"Most likely from 2 to 5." Warren glanced up. "Shopping trip of sorts. Thought maybe you'd like to get out."
"No I shouldn't. I have a final on Monday for a Physical Chemistry course. I really need to study. Thanks, though. Maybe next time."
"Sure," Warren turned back to his paper. "I never liked Chemistry," he said after a moment.
"Oh. It's been - I've been interested in it since I was 12. I'm kind of a science geek," I replied.
"It just never made sense to me. All those letters and symbols and types of bonds." He flipped over the paper and studied the other side.
"Like the stock market makes sense?" I challenged. Warren looked up at me again. "All those columns of numbers.What do they mean? How relevant are they to life? I mean what's the point?"
Kurt muttered something in a language I didn't understand, and his expression looked a little fearful. Warren put the paper down for a second. "You're kidding right?"
"No - I'm not. I don't know anything about the stock market, businesses or anything. Never had a reason to." He put his paper between us.
"Here he goes again," I heard Kitty say under her breath. I looked up at her briefly in confusion. She merely shook her head at me and turned back to Kurt and Peter.
"Right here -" Warren pointed to one column. I finished my breakfast while Warren plunged into a 30 minute dissertation involving stock prices, price to earning ratios, dividends, something called an IPO and more - I know I forgot more than I retained. I don't claim to be able to function before the first cup of coffee, and digestion is complete. And even though I had no real interest in the stock market, I will admit - Warren knew his stuff. Unfortunately, it was too early on a Saturday morning for a financial accounting lesson. It was too early in the morning for cartoons, for that matter.
I'd managed to finish my oatmeal and coffee in the midst of the lecture. Warren didn't miss a beat, and he only paused to sip his coffee once. Warren would've made a fine professor.If a school could afford to pay him enough. I didn't know much about the blond haired pretty-boy, but plenty of my classmates and fellow students had come from rich families; Warren exuded some of the same traits as them - the self-assured confidence that came from years of getting your way. But, unlike some of the snobs I was going to school with, Warren was genuinely a nice guy. I found myself admiring him, even if my mind had wandered onto other more pertinent topics - like how much studying I'd have to do today and how hard my finals would be in a few days.
Warren got up to take his breakfast dishes to the kitchen. I - like an enthralled minion - followed along as he kept up the dialogue. While rinsing our plates and cups, Warren wrapped up the discussion with an explanation of bonds, cd's and money market accounts. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel, slung it over one shoulder, and leaned against the sink. "More than you bargained for this early in the morning?"
I shook my head slightly. "It's just a lot to absorb - at any time. I'm more of a 'techy'. I've always wanted to be an engineer. The financial world just doesn't make sense to me."
"Well - we can always talk more, there's a great deal to understand. You might be here for a while so we should have time - if you're interested."
"Well.I do have finals coming up. But after that - sure." What does he mean, '.a while.'? "In fact - I do need to start studying." Kitty and Peter walked in just then, idly chatting.
"The professor said you're going to be in the Danger Room tomorrow and that you're to get fitted for a costume today," Warren said, folding his arms across his chest.
"Ummmmm.yeah. I guess," I replied with a non-committal tone.
"I can show you to the lower levels where you can get fitted for a few suits. Then the library so you can study for your tests." Warren harrumphed and shook his head slightly. "Finals - better you than me," he said with a mild look of distaste.
"You do what you have to do," I replied. Although I sometimes wondered how much I would do in the pursuit of education.How far I'd go. I shrugged. Just then, the Professor wheeled into the kitchen followed by Ororo. Professor Xavier turned away from the tall woman to regard Warren and I.
"I would hate to dissuade students from developing strong personal ties by terminating this social time, but Tres does have a very demanding schedule over the course of the next few days. I recommend we take him for his fitting then allow him to study. Warren - perhaps you would serve as a surrogate tour guide today, before you and Ororo leave for West Chester?" It wasn't so much of a suggestion as an edict.
"Sure thing, Professor," Warren agreed. "Ready Tres?"
"Yeah, sure," I replied. "'Bye," I said to Ororo, Professor Xavier and the others.
"We will talk later," Professor Xavier, informed me.
"Okay," I agreed hastily before following behind the winged blond man. "Kitty tells me the suits are made from unstable molecules," I started. Wall-Street-Warren melted away to the more care-free guy that wasn't too many years my senior.
Warren nodded as we left the kitchen and started down the hallway. "Very well designed. They provide insulation and are resistant to a lot different forms of energy expended while we use our powers." He re- shuffled his wings slightly, and the thought occurred to me that I'd seen birds do the exact same thing. I had to laugh - silently, of course.
"Will this fitting take long?"
"No - quick and painless," he quipped. "We've all been through it. Sure you don't want to come with us into West Chester?"
I shook my head. "I really have to study." It'd be nice to get back to something normal, I thought. "Thanks again, though."
"The library's a good place to study," Warren suggested as we stopped in front of the elevator. He pressed the down arrow and we waited for the doors to open.
He's really trying to be helpful. "Can you show me where it is?" I asked as the doors slid silently open and we stepped inside.
"Yes. After we get done down here, we can drop off the training suits at your room, get your books and I'll show you where the library is. Then you can have 'hours of uninterrupted study time'." His voice took on a more official tone at that last part. I laughed.
"Thanks. I'd really appreciate that." We arrived at the proper floor and exited.
"No problem. You've probably seen quite a few strange things in the last twenty-four hours. More than you wanted. I remember what it was like when I . . ." Warren paused and sadness flashed across his jovial features for a moment. "When I first joined the X-Men. Everything's new.different. Strange. You're just trying to make sense of it all." That kinda summed up the way I felt.four years ago.
"It's not so bad." This time I paused to reflect. "I've - I've been through.I've seen stranger things," I said with a small private smile.
"Oh really?" Warren said with a tone of casual interest.
"Yeah - maybe some day I'll tell you about that."
"I'm all ears." Warren clapped me on the shoulder, good-naturedly. "Now let's get you into wardrobe. You'll be a member of the team in no time." Great! I thought. Just what I wanted.
Warren was right; getting fitted for the costume was quick and painless. Basically, this machine scanned you with a pair of electronic "eyes" and then you got to program in the uniform you wanted. Warren selected the standard black-and-gold number, and out popped a couple in just my size, complete with matching boots. It had taken all of five minutes and soon Warren and I were heading up back upstairs.
I don't know if the Professor had told him to handle me with kid gloves or not, but I wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. Amidst all the newness, having a friendly face around made it a little easier. In fact everyone was really nice. It was hard to believe that these people were anything other than your average everyday Joe's.Except they lived in a mansion and had the collective firepower to level most of New York.
Warren dropped me off at the library with my books, notebooks, and highlighters telling me that he'd see me at lunch. I thanked him again for the millionth time that day and dove headfirst into my physical chemistry text.
* * * * *
The way I liked to study was to go over the important points and the really difficult concepts, explain them in my own words, and then compile a study sheet. I usually did the last part on the computer, printing it out so I could review at my leisure. Xavier had some pretty nice equipment in terms of computers and printers, far more advanced than what was in the computer clusters back at school. I was just starting to type up a study sheet on Chapter 5 when a voice startled me.
"Forgive me, tovarisch. I did not mean to surprise you."
"Peter - Hi," I said, coming back to the real world. "It's okay." I just didn't see or 'scan' you I thought silently.
"It is lunch time, are you joining us?"
"I am hungry, thanks for the invite," I replied. I stretched a little before prying myself out of the office chair. "What time is it?" I looked in vain for a clock.
"12:30," Peter replied.
"Already? Sheesh - time flies, I guess."
Peter smiled. "What subject were you studying?" He asked, leading us out of library.
"P. Chem. It's actually a -" I started to plunge head first into a dissertation on my studies. But I noticed a confused look on Peter's face.
"What is 'P. Chem.'?"
"P. Chem. Physical Chemistry." I hurriedly explained. "Sorry - I'm so used to speaking in acronyms at school. Sometimes I forget." Peter nodded in understanding. "The full title is Physical Chemistry of Macromolecules. It's actually a graduate level class. I'm thinking about going to grad school. I just don't know yet.I'll need to decide next year, I guess. When I'm a senior." If I still wanted to go to grad school. Correction - if I make it to my senior year. That thought was too morbid for me to voice aloud, so I held my tongue. Luckily, we rounded a corner and walked right into Kitty Pryde - who served as a perfect change of subject.
We greeted the youngest pupil at Xavier's in chorus. Kitty's smile brightened noticeably.
"Hi," she replied with an almost imperceptible shyness.
"We are going to lunch, Katya," Peter said.
"Won't you join us?" I added in quickly.
Kitty smiled, sliding in between us. "How goes the studying?"
"It's going." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "And you? Big plans for today?" She shook her head, curls bouncing slightly.
"Pretty much the same. I'll be going to work out later today in the gymnasium. That's the extent of my excitement for the day."
"I will be training later today," Peter put in. "I have finished my work out before lunch."
"Training?" I asked.
"Combat," Kitty added, and Peter confirmed. "No official session today, but we can practice on our own in the Danger room or the gym."
"Wolverine has shown me several new techniques this week. I should practice them," he explained.
"I see."
"Professor Xavier said that you kick box, Tres," Kitty probed.
"Well - yes. Just for a few years. It's good exercise."
"We have several types of bags and other equipment that may be useful in your own personal training, if you are interested," Peter supplied.
"Really?" My interest piqued. Then my eyes widened. "Oh crud! I forgot to tell my instructor I wouldn't be in today.I'll have to call him, to let him know that I will be out of training for a while." At least until things cool down.
"Is your trainer difficult to work with?"
"He's pretty forgiving," I started to say. "He'll just make me run more laps than usual to teach me 'the value of effective communication'."
"You should try working out with Wolverine," Kitty said half under her breath as we stepped off the last stair and walked the short distance to the kitchen.
"Uh.Hmmmmm.We'll see," I said noncommittally. Like I haven't spent enough time getting beat up by non-mutants.But just then my stomach grumbled a little bit, forcing me to focus on more mundane topics - like lunch. Kitty and Peter continued on forward, but I slowed a little, hanging back to observe. I ended up entering the kitchen a step-and-a-half behind the other two.
Lunch was a little more active than breakfast with people going in and out of the refrigerator for whatever they needed, opening and closing cabinets, pouring drinks, toasting bread - burning it, throwing it away and re- toasting. Ororo, Wolverine, Kurt, and Warren were already there. I paused for a moment, not wanting to get in anyone's way, but Kitty pulled me gently by the elbow when she saw me hanging back.
"It's okay," she insisted. She was very small, but the 'hostess' in her must have taken over because she sort of steered me through the X-Men who moved as if the whole routine were choreographed. I (under Kitty's supervision) managed to snag sandwich fixings and a pickle and glass without bumping or disrupting everyone else's activities.
By the time I had finished putting my lunch together, Kitty and I were alone in the kitchen. She waited patiently then lead me back out to the dining room where the rest of the group was already seated. Kitty once again sat next to Wolverine and I sat at the end next to Peter. Warren, Ororo, and Professor Xavier were at one end of the expansive table. The weather-controller was refereeing an animated discussion between Warren and the professor about...well...about something money related. I couldn't quite follow, but it sounded reminiscent of this morning's dissertation I had received from the Xavier Institute's Professor of Finance. Wolverine and Peter were talking about hand-to-hand combat tactics with Kurt observing silently. Kitty looked on, yet seemed reserved. I smiled at her when she glanced at me.
"How goes the studying?" Kitty asked.
"It's going somewhere.Not quite sure where," I said, letting the exasperation creep into my voice. I took a bite of my turkey sandwich and chewed thoughtfully.
"Don't like the class?"
"It's not that.It's just a lot to deal with right now. Who really needs finals?" I shrugged and the littlest X-Man grinned. "It won't be so bad."
"Yeah - it'll be over soon. And then you'll be on winter vacation."
"If I survive," I replied, taking another bite of my sandwich. Kitty's brow furrowed. "Finals.I mean."
"You have to get through your Danger Room session tomorrow - then you can worry about finals," Kitty quipped.
"Yes, Ma'am." I gave her a mock salute then began to tear into my lunch with gusto. I smiled to myself, feeling better about things already.
* * * * *
I sat alone on the roof of the mansion, beneath the stars on this clear winter's eve. The wind whistled by, carrying with it bits of snow. Cradling my head in my left hand, I watched the way the flakes twisted around, completely controlled by the errant wind. I didn't need to think too deeply about the weather and the analogous metaphor to my life as of late. Poor Tres, lost on the wind.Cold and alone.Helpless under the winds of misfortune.
"It does not help," a calm voice behind me advised.
"What doesn't?" I didn't need to turn around. I recognized the voice without using my scanning power to identify the woman.
"Self pity," Ororo stated evenly. "Regret. Helplessness. It is your life, Tres." I smiled to myself as she came to stand beside. "Yours to do with as you choose."
I arched an eyebrow at her frank and deadly accurate statement. "Did you inherit some of Professor Xavier's telepathy?" I couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
Ororo assumed a lotus position beside me. "Nearly all the X-Men have come to the roof."
"For the same reason?"
"To think. To wonder. To question. What are we doing here?" Her voice had taken on a far off quality. "Where did we lose control?" The wind howled loudly. When it died down, she continued, in a new tone. "It is easy to forget that the people around you are here to help; you are not alone. Whatever it is you are feeling, whatever it is you are dealing with, you do not have to close yourself off from those around you."
There was a long silence while I mulled that over. "I don't know you all really well. And I don't know what's to come. I'm used to being in control and doing everything myself. Independent." And I like it that way, I added as an afterthought.
"It does not have to be that way. Sometimes in life, being independent is not sufficient to overcome the challenges you may have to face," she informed me.
"And making friends and being part of a team, can open yourself up to a whole world of pain, Ororo. I've been there," I replied firmly. It was my turn to be nostalgic. "You know what happens when you open up? When you try to act human? To care? Somebody or something - life - punches you in the stomach. It's easier to just harden your heart. Rely on yourself. Safer, that way."
"It is not always enough. You are not always enough, to handle every incident, every situation in life. Friends - family - can help you through the difficult times."
"Maybe I've already tried that Ororo. Maybe it didn't end well. Maybe I decided to try another tactic, so people around me don't get hurt."
"Tres," she began softly, "- people are getting hurt in this world all the time. Shutting yourself off from the world is not going to stop the suffering - stop the pain. Feelings - emotions, both pleasant and unpleasant - let you know you are alive."
"Yes. I'm alive. But what about the people who aren't? Or the people that don't know they are alive? If I just stay away from people and my powers, then it makes sense to me that there's a higher probability that . . . that I won't get hurt. And no one around me will get hurt. And that's less suffering that I have to deal with. Or inflict." The selfishness of my own words echoed in my ears. It was some time before my companion spoke.
"Do you think that not interacting with people will stop them from hating you because of who you are? Or what you can do? Just because you do not wish to care about someone else does not mean that you will not have emotion inflicted upon you, does it? Or that no one will be interested in you because you are not interested in them? "You are a mutant, Tres. It is a part of you. Trying to run from it would be like trying to run from yourself. Because of that, some one will always be interested in you. You have power. Power that could be used by others for their own purposes. "You have tried to shut yourself off from people. From the entire world, perhaps. But the world, it seems, is not content to leave you alone. You do not want to hear this, Tres, but it is highly likely that someone - some innocent bystander - was hurt in today's encounter. Are you telling me that you do not feel compassion or concern for those that may have inadvertently be injured?"
I looked away from her; I couldn't stand to see her face with the harsh reality settling in. "I didn't ask to be attacked. I didn't ask for that. I didn't even ask for these powers. It wasn't my fault. And I . . . I don't -"
"You can not say it, Tres. Because you do you care. By denying that, you are again denying part of yourself. You have tried to repress your feelings and your powers. You have succeeded for a time, but you can not maintain this composure - this control - forever." She rose gracefully. I could feel her gentle gaze upon me, and I felt the - the pain, the concern. She watched me for a moment longer.
"I did not tell you before, Tres. About this roof. Every X-Man before you that has come here, stares out into the night sky, each in a different direction. But we are all looking towards the same thing."
"And what's that, Ororo?" I asked, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
"Home," she said simply. "What we each realize, eventually, is that we should each be looking here," she indicated the roof, and the mansion. "We should each be looking down, not out into the night sky. This is home." And then, with the gentlest of winds, Ororo lifted off from the roof, leaving me in the cold. Without and within.
This story © 2002 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2002 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2002 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.
Winds of Fortune
#Knock, knock.# Someone rapped on the door. I bolted upright.
Ever been away at school, and then come home for Christmas break. That first morning you wake up in your old bed - even though its familiar - you still wake up feeling.disjoined. Out of place. It feels unnatural. The sun is coming in from a different angle, the smells are different, the furniture doesn't look right, and all the sounds are off.
Waking up in that strange bedroom in West Chester was like that.
Times a million.
I awoke with an abnormal morning alertness. There was a second of pure panic - the strange surroundings - then I let out a long sigh as the memories came flooding back. #Knock knock# came again. I unconsciously reached out with my power and checked to see who it was. Funny - how one day you can do a complete reversal; not using my powers at all, to having them take the place of something as simple as saying "Who is it?"
I "saw" the ever-attentive Kitty Pryde standing on the other side of the door, tapping one foot, in a stance of extreme patience. "Come in," I called. I smoothed back the covers, realizing I'd slept in my clothes. I had been tired.
"Geez - I didn't think you'd ever get up," she said, stalking into the room. "I've been knocking for five minutes!" She was such an odd mix of maturity and childish exuberance, it was almost comical. I had to smile, especially with the bright morning sunlight streaming in the window behind me. "Slept in your clothes?" Her lips pursed in disapproval. "Did you sleep well, at least?"
"Yeah - pretty well," I agreed. I ran my fingers through my tousled hair. I definitely had bed-head, today. It was such an ordinary thing to be concerned about, though, when you've just been hunted for sport and trashed several city blocks. I laughed at my own shallowness.
"What's so funny?" Kitty asked brows dipped in confusion.
I smiled to myself. "I'm in a mansion.in West Chester, after leaving Pittsburgh because fifty-foot tall mutant hunting robots were after me.Having been rescued by an outlaw team of mutant heroes. And I'm worried about how my hair looks . . . I've got priorities," I finished, shaking my head. Kitty laughed.
"Well - here's the deal," she said, sitting down in the chair. It was still in the same place she'd left it last night. "Professor X wanted me to come get you fitted for your costume, then for us to go down to the Danger Room to see the X-Men's practice session. But, Ororo said that you'd probably need your rest more than watching the team session today..."
"So I got a few more minutes of sleep. What time is it?" I asked, casting about for a clock.
"About 8:30. Team session and mine are over. Time for breakfast," she added cheerily.
"Okay. Can I shower, first?" I attempted to be polite, but I'm not much of a morning person. I stretched. It's amazing how a good night's sleep can make you feel so much better.
"Sure - just make it quick. Breakfast is soon. We have to hurry," she said imperiously.
"Okay, okay,." I said, rolling my eyes. I slid out of the bed. "Can you tell me where the shower is, please?"
"Sure thing," she said. She gave me the directions, including the location of fresh linens and I gathered my overnight bag in hand and headed down the hallway. Soon I was lathering up and singing away in the shower. Singing helped me to relax.and I certainly needed it after yesterday. I paused in the middle of rinsing shampoo from my hair to contemplate how quickly my life had gone from mediocre to unbelievable. Hard to believe that 24 hours ago I was just Tres the average college student.now I was Tres - superhero in training. Ugh, I thought washing the last of the soap from my blond tangles. I didn't even want to think about living that type of lifestyle.
Ever have one of those moments where time seems to slow down.when you're doing the really heavy thinking? When you've come to a profound understanding of . . . everything. I watched as the water cascaded down off my head, slowed as it rebounded off my shoulders, and pooled in my hands.then every drop stood still. I looked down in the shallow water. I thought I could almost see my reflection.And I knew. I knew it would never be the same. Life would never be the same. I'd never be the same. I'd never been the same.And it was time I'd stopped pretending.
But as quickly as those profound instances of protracted time begin - living in the moment, as it were - the realization crashes down on you and the moment is over. Hot water rained down upon me again, normally. I rinsed once more then ended my shower.
Normally, I would have dried with a towel, but today I used my powers to evaporate the water right off. It saved me a minute or two, which I needed. I tended to take long showers. What can I say? I loved the water.
I dressed hurriedly and headed back down to my room where Kitty was waiting expectantly. I tossed my overnight bag to the side, looking at the small sack containing just a few days worth of clothes. Clothes.X-Men clothes. "So a costume.?"
"Yeah - you get an X-Men uniform for the Danger Room sessions," Kitty informed me.
"A uniform.." Uh oh. "I see," I said in that tone that meant I'd really be 'seeing' later on. "Spandex?"
She laughed at my expression. "Don't worry, it's not so bad. You gotta have something that can withstand your powers. And if you're in a fight, you don't want your clothing to slow you down."
"Uh huh," I agreed.
"You'll get fitted after breakfast," she said. "For your session tomorrow morning." She guided us to the large stairway. On the walk down, Kitty explained to me about the costume-making machine that you programmed in your measurements and then which popped out garments by the dozen. You could design your own clothing in the machine - whatever you wanted. Kitty seemed especially excited by this; I wondered if she liked to play dress up.
We turned right at the bottom of the stairs and Kitty led us through the kitchen where Peter and someone I hadn't met were making breakfast. "Good morning," Kitty said brightly. I envied her incessant energy at this time in the morning. Peter favored her with a good-natured grin and wished us both a good morning.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Like a brick." I noticed the shorter man studying me hard. I didn't know quite what to make of him eyeing me, but I didn't think it was favorable. I shivered slightly under that gaze.
My thoughts must have been pretty obvious - let alone the body language - because Kitty suddenly chimed in with a. "Don't let ol' Wolverine intimidate ya. He's not a morning person either." So this was Wolverine.He extended a hand while Kitty made formal introductions. Always the perfect hostess.
"Nice to meet you Wolverine," I said.
"You too, kid," he replied. His voice was gruff and suited his stature - solid and tough. I found myself regarding him with the same type of intensity he'd favored me with as he and Peter walked from the kitchen with their food. I wondered what his power was.Intimidation, perhaps? Pretty useful in a fight, I bet. Just one glare and all your enemies run away. I chuckled to myself.
Meanwhile Kitty began opening cupboards, scrounging around for cereal. She asked me what I wanted, breaking my train of thought. "What did you say?"
"I said there's muffins over there, oatmeal, cereal, juice in the refrigerator," she repeated, indicated the respective locations.
"Okay - thanks. Where are the coffee mugs?" I asked, busying myself around the kitchen. I pulled a bowl from a cupboard she had left open and grabbed a couple of packs of instant oatmeal.
"Right over there."
"Thanks." I finished the oatmeal, mixing it with water and putting it in the microwave while I poured myself a cup of coffee and dug up some honey. Kitty and I quickly made our breakfast and she led us out of the kitchen in the obscenely large dining room where the rest of the X-Men had gathered.
"Hey - the kid finally wakes up," Warren teased, his too-bright smile gracing his features. "I thought you college frat guys slept until the mid afternoon."
"Only on days that end in 'Y'," I replied, sitting down next to him. Ororo sat to his right, with Professor Xavier at the head of the table. Peter, Wolverine, Kitty and.???? sat on the other side of the table. I didn't quite cover up my surprise at seeing the eighth member of the party and paused before sitting down across from him.
"Guten Tag," he said. His accent was strong, but not unpleasant. But his next words almost didn't register. "I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, yet. I am Kurt Wagner."
"Tres," I replied a little more glib than good manners would normally dictate. "Uh - Tres Darkmoon. Nice to meet you." I lowered myself slowly into my chair. Act calm. Act normal! It's not like you haven't seen strange things before, I chided myself.
Kurt was more than strange looking though. He was - unreal! Dark, dark, blue and fuzzy, with only three fingers on each hand. And a tail! And his eyes were yellow. He gave me a pleasant smile, but his brow creased ever so slightly, and I knew my attention had not gone unnoticed. I looked back at my bowl of oatmeal and wondered again for the millionth time what I had gotten myself into.
"I trust you slept well, Mr. Darkmoon," Professor Xavier said before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Very well, thank you," I said after swallowing a mouthful of honey- sweetened Quaker Oats. I sort of concentrated on my coffee and oatmeal, while quietly observing the group. The headmaster nodded politely before turning back to his conversation. He and Ororo seemed to be involved in some heavy discussion with Wolverine putting in a comment every now and then. Peter and Kurt and Kitty were engaged in some playful teasing. Warren had what looked like the Wall Street Journal folded crisply in his hand, his blue eyes roving over the columns of numbers quickly. Hmmmmm.
"Ororo and I had planned to go into town later," Warren said suddenly, not even glancing up from his paper. The early cheerfulness was gone and his tone was clipped and efficient. I had the sudden mental image of him in a dark charcoal gray suit sitting at a board meeting.I shook my head to dispel the thought. "Would you like to come along?"
"Ummmm.Thanks. But I should really study. How long will you be gone?"
"Most likely from 2 to 5." Warren glanced up. "Shopping trip of sorts. Thought maybe you'd like to get out."
"No I shouldn't. I have a final on Monday for a Physical Chemistry course. I really need to study. Thanks, though. Maybe next time."
"Sure," Warren turned back to his paper. "I never liked Chemistry," he said after a moment.
"Oh. It's been - I've been interested in it since I was 12. I'm kind of a science geek," I replied.
"It just never made sense to me. All those letters and symbols and types of bonds." He flipped over the paper and studied the other side.
"Like the stock market makes sense?" I challenged. Warren looked up at me again. "All those columns of numbers.What do they mean? How relevant are they to life? I mean what's the point?"
Kurt muttered something in a language I didn't understand, and his expression looked a little fearful. Warren put the paper down for a second. "You're kidding right?"
"No - I'm not. I don't know anything about the stock market, businesses or anything. Never had a reason to." He put his paper between us.
"Here he goes again," I heard Kitty say under her breath. I looked up at her briefly in confusion. She merely shook her head at me and turned back to Kurt and Peter.
"Right here -" Warren pointed to one column. I finished my breakfast while Warren plunged into a 30 minute dissertation involving stock prices, price to earning ratios, dividends, something called an IPO and more - I know I forgot more than I retained. I don't claim to be able to function before the first cup of coffee, and digestion is complete. And even though I had no real interest in the stock market, I will admit - Warren knew his stuff. Unfortunately, it was too early on a Saturday morning for a financial accounting lesson. It was too early in the morning for cartoons, for that matter.
I'd managed to finish my oatmeal and coffee in the midst of the lecture. Warren didn't miss a beat, and he only paused to sip his coffee once. Warren would've made a fine professor.If a school could afford to pay him enough. I didn't know much about the blond haired pretty-boy, but plenty of my classmates and fellow students had come from rich families; Warren exuded some of the same traits as them - the self-assured confidence that came from years of getting your way. But, unlike some of the snobs I was going to school with, Warren was genuinely a nice guy. I found myself admiring him, even if my mind had wandered onto other more pertinent topics - like how much studying I'd have to do today and how hard my finals would be in a few days.
Warren got up to take his breakfast dishes to the kitchen. I - like an enthralled minion - followed along as he kept up the dialogue. While rinsing our plates and cups, Warren wrapped up the discussion with an explanation of bonds, cd's and money market accounts. He wiped his hands on a dishtowel, slung it over one shoulder, and leaned against the sink. "More than you bargained for this early in the morning?"
I shook my head slightly. "It's just a lot to absorb - at any time. I'm more of a 'techy'. I've always wanted to be an engineer. The financial world just doesn't make sense to me."
"Well - we can always talk more, there's a great deal to understand. You might be here for a while so we should have time - if you're interested."
"Well.I do have finals coming up. But after that - sure." What does he mean, '.a while.'? "In fact - I do need to start studying." Kitty and Peter walked in just then, idly chatting.
"The professor said you're going to be in the Danger Room tomorrow and that you're to get fitted for a costume today," Warren said, folding his arms across his chest.
"Ummmmm.yeah. I guess," I replied with a non-committal tone.
"I can show you to the lower levels where you can get fitted for a few suits. Then the library so you can study for your tests." Warren harrumphed and shook his head slightly. "Finals - better you than me," he said with a mild look of distaste.
"You do what you have to do," I replied. Although I sometimes wondered how much I would do in the pursuit of education.How far I'd go. I shrugged. Just then, the Professor wheeled into the kitchen followed by Ororo. Professor Xavier turned away from the tall woman to regard Warren and I.
"I would hate to dissuade students from developing strong personal ties by terminating this social time, but Tres does have a very demanding schedule over the course of the next few days. I recommend we take him for his fitting then allow him to study. Warren - perhaps you would serve as a surrogate tour guide today, before you and Ororo leave for West Chester?" It wasn't so much of a suggestion as an edict.
"Sure thing, Professor," Warren agreed. "Ready Tres?"
"Yeah, sure," I replied. "'Bye," I said to Ororo, Professor Xavier and the others.
"We will talk later," Professor Xavier, informed me.
"Okay," I agreed hastily before following behind the winged blond man. "Kitty tells me the suits are made from unstable molecules," I started. Wall-Street-Warren melted away to the more care-free guy that wasn't too many years my senior.
Warren nodded as we left the kitchen and started down the hallway. "Very well designed. They provide insulation and are resistant to a lot different forms of energy expended while we use our powers." He re- shuffled his wings slightly, and the thought occurred to me that I'd seen birds do the exact same thing. I had to laugh - silently, of course.
"Will this fitting take long?"
"No - quick and painless," he quipped. "We've all been through it. Sure you don't want to come with us into West Chester?"
I shook my head. "I really have to study." It'd be nice to get back to something normal, I thought. "Thanks again, though."
"The library's a good place to study," Warren suggested as we stopped in front of the elevator. He pressed the down arrow and we waited for the doors to open.
He's really trying to be helpful. "Can you show me where it is?" I asked as the doors slid silently open and we stepped inside.
"Yes. After we get done down here, we can drop off the training suits at your room, get your books and I'll show you where the library is. Then you can have 'hours of uninterrupted study time'." His voice took on a more official tone at that last part. I laughed.
"Thanks. I'd really appreciate that." We arrived at the proper floor and exited.
"No problem. You've probably seen quite a few strange things in the last twenty-four hours. More than you wanted. I remember what it was like when I . . ." Warren paused and sadness flashed across his jovial features for a moment. "When I first joined the X-Men. Everything's new.different. Strange. You're just trying to make sense of it all." That kinda summed up the way I felt.four years ago.
"It's not so bad." This time I paused to reflect. "I've - I've been through.I've seen stranger things," I said with a small private smile.
"Oh really?" Warren said with a tone of casual interest.
"Yeah - maybe some day I'll tell you about that."
"I'm all ears." Warren clapped me on the shoulder, good-naturedly. "Now let's get you into wardrobe. You'll be a member of the team in no time." Great! I thought. Just what I wanted.
Warren was right; getting fitted for the costume was quick and painless. Basically, this machine scanned you with a pair of electronic "eyes" and then you got to program in the uniform you wanted. Warren selected the standard black-and-gold number, and out popped a couple in just my size, complete with matching boots. It had taken all of five minutes and soon Warren and I were heading up back upstairs.
I don't know if the Professor had told him to handle me with kid gloves or not, but I wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. Amidst all the newness, having a friendly face around made it a little easier. In fact everyone was really nice. It was hard to believe that these people were anything other than your average everyday Joe's.Except they lived in a mansion and had the collective firepower to level most of New York.
Warren dropped me off at the library with my books, notebooks, and highlighters telling me that he'd see me at lunch. I thanked him again for the millionth time that day and dove headfirst into my physical chemistry text.
* * * * *
The way I liked to study was to go over the important points and the really difficult concepts, explain them in my own words, and then compile a study sheet. I usually did the last part on the computer, printing it out so I could review at my leisure. Xavier had some pretty nice equipment in terms of computers and printers, far more advanced than what was in the computer clusters back at school. I was just starting to type up a study sheet on Chapter 5 when a voice startled me.
"Forgive me, tovarisch. I did not mean to surprise you."
"Peter - Hi," I said, coming back to the real world. "It's okay." I just didn't see or 'scan' you I thought silently.
"It is lunch time, are you joining us?"
"I am hungry, thanks for the invite," I replied. I stretched a little before prying myself out of the office chair. "What time is it?" I looked in vain for a clock.
"12:30," Peter replied.
"Already? Sheesh - time flies, I guess."
Peter smiled. "What subject were you studying?" He asked, leading us out of library.
"P. Chem. It's actually a -" I started to plunge head first into a dissertation on my studies. But I noticed a confused look on Peter's face.
"What is 'P. Chem.'?"
"P. Chem. Physical Chemistry." I hurriedly explained. "Sorry - I'm so used to speaking in acronyms at school. Sometimes I forget." Peter nodded in understanding. "The full title is Physical Chemistry of Macromolecules. It's actually a graduate level class. I'm thinking about going to grad school. I just don't know yet.I'll need to decide next year, I guess. When I'm a senior." If I still wanted to go to grad school. Correction - if I make it to my senior year. That thought was too morbid for me to voice aloud, so I held my tongue. Luckily, we rounded a corner and walked right into Kitty Pryde - who served as a perfect change of subject.
We greeted the youngest pupil at Xavier's in chorus. Kitty's smile brightened noticeably.
"Hi," she replied with an almost imperceptible shyness.
"We are going to lunch, Katya," Peter said.
"Won't you join us?" I added in quickly.
Kitty smiled, sliding in between us. "How goes the studying?"
"It's going." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "And you? Big plans for today?" She shook her head, curls bouncing slightly.
"Pretty much the same. I'll be going to work out later today in the gymnasium. That's the extent of my excitement for the day."
"I will be training later today," Peter put in. "I have finished my work out before lunch."
"Training?" I asked.
"Combat," Kitty added, and Peter confirmed. "No official session today, but we can practice on our own in the Danger room or the gym."
"Wolverine has shown me several new techniques this week. I should practice them," he explained.
"I see."
"Professor Xavier said that you kick box, Tres," Kitty probed.
"Well - yes. Just for a few years. It's good exercise."
"We have several types of bags and other equipment that may be useful in your own personal training, if you are interested," Peter supplied.
"Really?" My interest piqued. Then my eyes widened. "Oh crud! I forgot to tell my instructor I wouldn't be in today.I'll have to call him, to let him know that I will be out of training for a while." At least until things cool down.
"Is your trainer difficult to work with?"
"He's pretty forgiving," I started to say. "He'll just make me run more laps than usual to teach me 'the value of effective communication'."
"You should try working out with Wolverine," Kitty said half under her breath as we stepped off the last stair and walked the short distance to the kitchen.
"Uh.Hmmmmm.We'll see," I said noncommittally. Like I haven't spent enough time getting beat up by non-mutants.But just then my stomach grumbled a little bit, forcing me to focus on more mundane topics - like lunch. Kitty and Peter continued on forward, but I slowed a little, hanging back to observe. I ended up entering the kitchen a step-and-a-half behind the other two.
Lunch was a little more active than breakfast with people going in and out of the refrigerator for whatever they needed, opening and closing cabinets, pouring drinks, toasting bread - burning it, throwing it away and re- toasting. Ororo, Wolverine, Kurt, and Warren were already there. I paused for a moment, not wanting to get in anyone's way, but Kitty pulled me gently by the elbow when she saw me hanging back.
"It's okay," she insisted. She was very small, but the 'hostess' in her must have taken over because she sort of steered me through the X-Men who moved as if the whole routine were choreographed. I (under Kitty's supervision) managed to snag sandwich fixings and a pickle and glass without bumping or disrupting everyone else's activities.
By the time I had finished putting my lunch together, Kitty and I were alone in the kitchen. She waited patiently then lead me back out to the dining room where the rest of the group was already seated. Kitty once again sat next to Wolverine and I sat at the end next to Peter. Warren, Ororo, and Professor Xavier were at one end of the expansive table. The weather-controller was refereeing an animated discussion between Warren and the professor about...well...about something money related. I couldn't quite follow, but it sounded reminiscent of this morning's dissertation I had received from the Xavier Institute's Professor of Finance. Wolverine and Peter were talking about hand-to-hand combat tactics with Kurt observing silently. Kitty looked on, yet seemed reserved. I smiled at her when she glanced at me.
"How goes the studying?" Kitty asked.
"It's going somewhere.Not quite sure where," I said, letting the exasperation creep into my voice. I took a bite of my turkey sandwich and chewed thoughtfully.
"Don't like the class?"
"It's not that.It's just a lot to deal with right now. Who really needs finals?" I shrugged and the littlest X-Man grinned. "It won't be so bad."
"Yeah - it'll be over soon. And then you'll be on winter vacation."
"If I survive," I replied, taking another bite of my sandwich. Kitty's brow furrowed. "Finals.I mean."
"You have to get through your Danger Room session tomorrow - then you can worry about finals," Kitty quipped.
"Yes, Ma'am." I gave her a mock salute then began to tear into my lunch with gusto. I smiled to myself, feeling better about things already.
* * * * *
I sat alone on the roof of the mansion, beneath the stars on this clear winter's eve. The wind whistled by, carrying with it bits of snow. Cradling my head in my left hand, I watched the way the flakes twisted around, completely controlled by the errant wind. I didn't need to think too deeply about the weather and the analogous metaphor to my life as of late. Poor Tres, lost on the wind.Cold and alone.Helpless under the winds of misfortune.
"It does not help," a calm voice behind me advised.
"What doesn't?" I didn't need to turn around. I recognized the voice without using my scanning power to identify the woman.
"Self pity," Ororo stated evenly. "Regret. Helplessness. It is your life, Tres." I smiled to myself as she came to stand beside. "Yours to do with as you choose."
I arched an eyebrow at her frank and deadly accurate statement. "Did you inherit some of Professor Xavier's telepathy?" I couldn't quite keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
Ororo assumed a lotus position beside me. "Nearly all the X-Men have come to the roof."
"For the same reason?"
"To think. To wonder. To question. What are we doing here?" Her voice had taken on a far off quality. "Where did we lose control?" The wind howled loudly. When it died down, she continued, in a new tone. "It is easy to forget that the people around you are here to help; you are not alone. Whatever it is you are feeling, whatever it is you are dealing with, you do not have to close yourself off from those around you."
There was a long silence while I mulled that over. "I don't know you all really well. And I don't know what's to come. I'm used to being in control and doing everything myself. Independent." And I like it that way, I added as an afterthought.
"It does not have to be that way. Sometimes in life, being independent is not sufficient to overcome the challenges you may have to face," she informed me.
"And making friends and being part of a team, can open yourself up to a whole world of pain, Ororo. I've been there," I replied firmly. It was my turn to be nostalgic. "You know what happens when you open up? When you try to act human? To care? Somebody or something - life - punches you in the stomach. It's easier to just harden your heart. Rely on yourself. Safer, that way."
"It is not always enough. You are not always enough, to handle every incident, every situation in life. Friends - family - can help you through the difficult times."
"Maybe I've already tried that Ororo. Maybe it didn't end well. Maybe I decided to try another tactic, so people around me don't get hurt."
"Tres," she began softly, "- people are getting hurt in this world all the time. Shutting yourself off from the world is not going to stop the suffering - stop the pain. Feelings - emotions, both pleasant and unpleasant - let you know you are alive."
"Yes. I'm alive. But what about the people who aren't? Or the people that don't know they are alive? If I just stay away from people and my powers, then it makes sense to me that there's a higher probability that . . . that I won't get hurt. And no one around me will get hurt. And that's less suffering that I have to deal with. Or inflict." The selfishness of my own words echoed in my ears. It was some time before my companion spoke.
"Do you think that not interacting with people will stop them from hating you because of who you are? Or what you can do? Just because you do not wish to care about someone else does not mean that you will not have emotion inflicted upon you, does it? Or that no one will be interested in you because you are not interested in them? "You are a mutant, Tres. It is a part of you. Trying to run from it would be like trying to run from yourself. Because of that, some one will always be interested in you. You have power. Power that could be used by others for their own purposes. "You have tried to shut yourself off from people. From the entire world, perhaps. But the world, it seems, is not content to leave you alone. You do not want to hear this, Tres, but it is highly likely that someone - some innocent bystander - was hurt in today's encounter. Are you telling me that you do not feel compassion or concern for those that may have inadvertently be injured?"
I looked away from her; I couldn't stand to see her face with the harsh reality settling in. "I didn't ask to be attacked. I didn't ask for that. I didn't even ask for these powers. It wasn't my fault. And I . . . I don't -"
"You can not say it, Tres. Because you do you care. By denying that, you are again denying part of yourself. You have tried to repress your feelings and your powers. You have succeeded for a time, but you can not maintain this composure - this control - forever." She rose gracefully. I could feel her gentle gaze upon me, and I felt the - the pain, the concern. She watched me for a moment longer.
"I did not tell you before, Tres. About this roof. Every X-Man before you that has come here, stares out into the night sky, each in a different direction. But we are all looking towards the same thing."
"And what's that, Ororo?" I asked, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
"Home," she said simply. "What we each realize, eventually, is that we should each be looking here," she indicated the roof, and the mansion. "We should each be looking down, not out into the night sky. This is home." And then, with the gentlest of winds, Ororo lifted off from the roof, leaving me in the cold. Without and within.
This story © 2002 Sherman L Taylor, II
Clayton "Tres" Darkmoon © 2002 Sherman L Taylor, II
The X-Men, Professor Charles Xavier, and all constituent
characters © 2002 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.