Disclaimer: I still don't own anything of X-men Evo or Marvel and I don't
claim to for fear that Stan Lee will show up at my front door with a
shotgun.
All I own is my OC, Alan Davidson.
Author's Notes: I'm very sorry about how long this took to write. I was in a bit of a rut and RL problems decided to make themselves known.
Chapter 4
Thinking of Nightmares
************************
I looked around the large room I was given for what was probably the hundredth time.
Like I could sleep after what happened. In a matter of hours the rug was pulled out from under my life. I had killed a man, I was hearing voices, I woke up to what looked like a war zone, and that was just the tip of the iceberg! I was even hunted down by some nut-job on a motorcycle that had enough weaponry to take on God.
Sure, I had a glimmer of salvation when Rogue and the others picked me up. But, the fire. That fire. They burned the house because of me.
They killed my parents because of me.
I didn't notice I was crying until the tears fell from my face and impacted on the carpet. I was sitting on my bed, leaning over the side, and just staring at the floor.
"Dammit. Why? Why did this happen?" I muttered to the room.
I glanced down at myself to see what were, right now, my only possessions. A black short sleeved T-shirt, a pair of jeans, my digital watch, and a year old pair of Nikes that looked like they were going to fall apart.
I pushed myself off the bed and stood upright. I shifted my weight over to my good leg then hopped over to where I had set my crutches and grabbed them.
I decided to take my thoughts outside. I maneuvered myself over to the window that led to the balcony and opened it up. I hobbled myself outside and took in the view. Much more favorable than the concrete forest my first home had been, but it still wasn't truly my home.
Trees outlined the perimeter of the Institute; the side of the mansion I was in had the best view. It overlooked the ocean and there was a rather large waterfall pouring down into it from the edge of a cliff.
"Great," I said to the view before me. "Just great. Tomorrow I'm going to head downstairs and be bombarded by a slew of teenagers asking 'What can you do?'" There was only one answer. "I'm screwed."
Not all of them are going to buy that load of bull I told Kurt and the others on the jet.
"At least I won't have to explain the blood to them," I said in a quiet tone. "I've still got to figure out a more believable story than that parking meter bullshit.".
"Now why in the hell is that bullshit?" I heard a familiar southern voice say from behind me.
"You were listening in!?" I spun around as fast as my crutches would allow.
"You lied?" Rogue retorted.
She was standing there staring me down from the doorway. Wearing a set of green pajamas. Only this time she wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked almost like a whole different person.
"You snuck into my room!"
"You still lied!" Note to self: lock the doors if you want privacy. No one knocks here.
"I-I've...There's good reason for that." Yeah, so I was panicking.
"Oh there better be a damn good reason," she sounded betrayed, "Or you'll be needin' more than just those crutches!"
Time to squeeze into that nook between the truth and a lie again.
"I'll tell you what I told the professor. I did something I'm not proud of at all. As a matter of fact, everything would probably be better off if I just wasn't a mutant, and I'm not talking about just myself," I felt a bit more relaxed as I said that. She, however, seemed annoyed when she looked at me again.
"All right," she said, "but don't go telling any more lies to the other students."She still sounded irritated but not as angry as before. "We all have our little secrets."
"Thanks for understanding," I replied with relief, "One question though."
Her expression asked, 'what's that?'
"How long has Frosty been a complete idiot?"
"Frost--Oh! Bobby!" She chuckled, catching the joke. "What did he say this time?"
"Well," I started in. "He called you Queen of the Goths and Ice Queen. Not to mention his holier-than-thou mentality."
I looked over to her and noticed she was staring at the floor, she appeared to be thinking.
I decided to cut the silence. "Um, are you alright?"
"Oh," she seemed startled. "Just thinking about what all has been going on. Ah want to know, how do ya seem to keep a smile on after all this?"
I simply grinned.
"I've been doing that since I was young," I confessed. "I keep a happy face so the people I cared about wouldn't worry about me. 'Don't worry, I'm fine.' and just slap a joke on then all is well."
I moved myself over to my bed and sat down as I said that.
"I don't think it's going to cut it anymore." I added.
"Well," Rogue finally spoke up. "No matter what, we'll help ya. That's what the prof made this school for."
"That's what people keep telling me." Then a question creeped up in my head that I was surprised I hadn't asked before. "By the way, what are you doing up so late?"
"Just a bad dream, that's all," she replied hesitantly then quickly headed for the door.
"Rogue, wait," I called to her.
She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder.
"Well, since neither of us can sleep, want to just talk for a while?"
"...Sure."
*********************
Author's Notes: I'm sorry about how short the chapter was. I was deciding to take it a different route before but it would conflict with my current writing style. Due to that I decided against it. Please review and tell me what you think.
Flames are unwelcome but Constructive Cricism is fine by me.
All I own is my OC, Alan Davidson.
Author's Notes: I'm very sorry about how long this took to write. I was in a bit of a rut and RL problems decided to make themselves known.
Chapter 4
Thinking of Nightmares
************************
I looked around the large room I was given for what was probably the hundredth time.
Like I could sleep after what happened. In a matter of hours the rug was pulled out from under my life. I had killed a man, I was hearing voices, I woke up to what looked like a war zone, and that was just the tip of the iceberg! I was even hunted down by some nut-job on a motorcycle that had enough weaponry to take on God.
Sure, I had a glimmer of salvation when Rogue and the others picked me up. But, the fire. That fire. They burned the house because of me.
They killed my parents because of me.
I didn't notice I was crying until the tears fell from my face and impacted on the carpet. I was sitting on my bed, leaning over the side, and just staring at the floor.
"Dammit. Why? Why did this happen?" I muttered to the room.
I glanced down at myself to see what were, right now, my only possessions. A black short sleeved T-shirt, a pair of jeans, my digital watch, and a year old pair of Nikes that looked like they were going to fall apart.
I pushed myself off the bed and stood upright. I shifted my weight over to my good leg then hopped over to where I had set my crutches and grabbed them.
I decided to take my thoughts outside. I maneuvered myself over to the window that led to the balcony and opened it up. I hobbled myself outside and took in the view. Much more favorable than the concrete forest my first home had been, but it still wasn't truly my home.
Trees outlined the perimeter of the Institute; the side of the mansion I was in had the best view. It overlooked the ocean and there was a rather large waterfall pouring down into it from the edge of a cliff.
"Great," I said to the view before me. "Just great. Tomorrow I'm going to head downstairs and be bombarded by a slew of teenagers asking 'What can you do?'" There was only one answer. "I'm screwed."
Not all of them are going to buy that load of bull I told Kurt and the others on the jet.
"At least I won't have to explain the blood to them," I said in a quiet tone. "I've still got to figure out a more believable story than that parking meter bullshit.".
"Now why in the hell is that bullshit?" I heard a familiar southern voice say from behind me.
"You were listening in!?" I spun around as fast as my crutches would allow.
"You lied?" Rogue retorted.
She was standing there staring me down from the doorway. Wearing a set of green pajamas. Only this time she wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked almost like a whole different person.
"You snuck into my room!"
"You still lied!" Note to self: lock the doors if you want privacy. No one knocks here.
"I-I've...There's good reason for that." Yeah, so I was panicking.
"Oh there better be a damn good reason," she sounded betrayed, "Or you'll be needin' more than just those crutches!"
Time to squeeze into that nook between the truth and a lie again.
"I'll tell you what I told the professor. I did something I'm not proud of at all. As a matter of fact, everything would probably be better off if I just wasn't a mutant, and I'm not talking about just myself," I felt a bit more relaxed as I said that. She, however, seemed annoyed when she looked at me again.
"All right," she said, "but don't go telling any more lies to the other students."She still sounded irritated but not as angry as before. "We all have our little secrets."
"Thanks for understanding," I replied with relief, "One question though."
Her expression asked, 'what's that?'
"How long has Frosty been a complete idiot?"
"Frost--Oh! Bobby!" She chuckled, catching the joke. "What did he say this time?"
"Well," I started in. "He called you Queen of the Goths and Ice Queen. Not to mention his holier-than-thou mentality."
I looked over to her and noticed she was staring at the floor, she appeared to be thinking.
I decided to cut the silence. "Um, are you alright?"
"Oh," she seemed startled. "Just thinking about what all has been going on. Ah want to know, how do ya seem to keep a smile on after all this?"
I simply grinned.
"I've been doing that since I was young," I confessed. "I keep a happy face so the people I cared about wouldn't worry about me. 'Don't worry, I'm fine.' and just slap a joke on then all is well."
I moved myself over to my bed and sat down as I said that.
"I don't think it's going to cut it anymore." I added.
"Well," Rogue finally spoke up. "No matter what, we'll help ya. That's what the prof made this school for."
"That's what people keep telling me." Then a question creeped up in my head that I was surprised I hadn't asked before. "By the way, what are you doing up so late?"
"Just a bad dream, that's all," she replied hesitantly then quickly headed for the door.
"Rogue, wait," I called to her.
She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder.
"Well, since neither of us can sleep, want to just talk for a while?"
"...Sure."
*********************
Author's Notes: I'm sorry about how short the chapter was. I was deciding to take it a different route before but it would conflict with my current writing style. Due to that I decided against it. Please review and tell me what you think.
Flames are unwelcome but Constructive Cricism is fine by me.