Disclaimer: the X-Men and characters belong to Marvel. X-Men Evolution belongs to...whoever owns it, I forget who. I'm not affiliated with either, obviously. I don't anyone mentioned within this text.
Author's note: I found this on my old computer when I was transferring files to my computer, and I kinda liked it, so I thought I'd share. It's a (lengthy) drabble, taking place after "Self Possessed". AN Dos: I know a lot of people hate it when dialect for Rogue and Kurt's accents are used, but I didn't bother changing it because it's my story and not yours. If you don't like it, I'm sorry. But no one's forcing you to read it.
Sometimes I forget. Forget that all of us, with our beliefs and our battles, we don't really know anything. X-Men, Brotherhood, Acolytes, Morlocks...we're just teenagers. Just a bunch of kids looking for a way, looking for answers.
I'm walking through the mansion when I'm reminded of this. Kitty's in our room, blasting Christina Aguilera, which is why I'm wandering the halls. I'm passing one of the picture windows when I stop to stare out. Bobby, Amara, Tabitha, and the rest of the "New Mutants" (read: the freshmen) are on the lawn, playing a game of no-powers softball. I catch a glimpse of dark hair over pale skin, and understand that they made Kurt wear his inducer for the game. I'm not sure how I know it. I feel a pang of sympathy for him, as his friends, the ones who know the real him, prefer the facade. We're all alone, I realize, all of us lost and scared and trying to cling to any shreds of normalcy that we can.
Scott's red convertible whizzes down the driveways, and he honks twice at the game. The freshies wave at the car, and a hand rises from the passenger seat to wave back. Jean's. They're going on a date. My stomach twists in mild disgust, but I push it out of my mind as best I can, because there's nothing I can do.
Kurt's eyes dart from the car up to the window, and he sees me, and waves. Without thinking, I wave back. Suddenly there are wisps of smoke on the field where he'd been standing, and he's next to me. "Hello!" he says, with a big smile. That's the thing about Kurt, he's always so cheerful. That's why he's the "fuzzy blue elf" and not the "fuzzy blue demon." He's just trying to make the best of it, and maybe he's doing better than any of us. After all, didn't Duncan Matthews want to keep dating Jean when the truth came out, only so he could cheat on tests? And that little witch Taryn, who was all over Scott until the second she learned he was a mutant, and then wouldn't even speak to him or Jean. But Kurt's got a girlfriend now, a non-mutant, someone who always knew he was a mutant and really likes him in spite of it. Because of it. Likes him for him.
I sound bitter, I think...Kurt's a good guy, a great guy, and after chasing Kitty for so long and so fruitlessly, he needs someone who likes him for what he is. Who he is.
"Hey, Kurt," I say softly.
"You vant to join za game?" he asked with a casual shrug.
"Not especially. Softball's not mah thing." I then glance at the window, where Tabitha has given up on fast balls and has replaced them with fireballs. "'Sides, Ah don't think the game's gonna be goin' on much longer. Looks like Mutant Ball to me."
Kurt follows my gaze, and shakes his head. "It figures." He shrugs. "So vhere's Keety?"
"Holding our room hostage, bein' a genie in a bottle," I answer, rolling my eyes. That's the thing about being a mutant, is that you never have a true moment alone. Locks on doors mean nothing with people like Kurt and Kitty around, especially Kitty, who has as much right to the room as I do.
"That must be awful," Kurt sympathizes, and I can't help but wonder if maybe he still harbors a tiny crush on Kitty, and wants to be in there, dancing like an idiot to awful music with her. "So maybe you'd vant to hang out vith me instead?"
It's a better option than brooding around the mansion by myself, I decide. "Ah don't see why not, seein' as how you're one a' the only ones talkin' to me."
Ever since I went flying off the handle, I really have become the rogue. I woke up to see Logan watching over me, like this short but fierce big brother. And of course, Kurt came to visit me, my annoying little brother. Really my little brother, a fact that I can't quite accept and don't want to. Not if it means that Mystique's my mother. Birth mother or adoptive mother, either way, I don't want to be slapped on the same family tree as the woman who used her powers to try and keep me away from the only people who could have helped me. Mystique may or may not have raised me, but the X-Men are my family, and I won't forgive her for trying to turn me against them.
All the same, I can't say I didn't like Kurt's visits, his insistence on fawning over his sick sister. I always sort of associated with Kurt. We're in the same grade in school, sure, but it's not just that. I felt almost kindred to him. He hides behind his inducer, I hide behind gloves. It's not much, but it's better than nothing, and it helps me accept the whole sibling scenario better.
So Kurt is thrilled that he has someone to bond with over the Mystique thing, so he talks to me. And Kitty's my roommate, and I guess really looks up to me or something, and she's always talked to me, actually, really looks out for me. The Prof and Logan do, of course, and Dr. McCoy. But that's about it. Storm looks so disapproving whenever she looks at me, like I could really help the onslaught in my head making my body go insane. Jean and Scott keep their distance respectfully, but the freshies whisper about me and duck out of the room when they're alone and see me coming.
"I can't be za only one who talks to you," Kurt says, and I half-shrug at him in response. "It could be vorse," he says, "zey could talk to you all the time like zey talk to me. On and on and on! Especially Jamie. It's vorst vhen his powers kick in. Zen zere's about five of him." He grins, and I quirk my lips at him in the closest thing to a smile that I've managed in for what seems like forever.
"Listen, Kurt, if ya wanna hang out, ya gotta do one thing first."
He peers at me, confused.
"Ya gotta shut off the inducer. Lemme see my real brother."
The smile on his face is so genuine, whether it's image-induced, or blue-lipped and pointy-toothed. I get to see both versions, and the thrill on them is so real that I can't help but grin back, feeling real kinship with Elf Boy.
"So ve're brozzer and seester now?"
"Yeah, guess Ah don' have much of a choice now, do Ah?" I say, but I'm smiling as I say it. There are worse people to have as surrogate brothers, I realize. Kurt Wagner, with his at times frightening mutant appearance and yet his boundless cheer and quick wit, is one of the best options I could ask for.
We stroll downstairs to the kitchen. It's mercifully empty, and after pouring ourselves glasses of juice, we sit facing each other at the table.
I don't know how many minutes of silence tick by, but finally I try my hand at conversation. "So, how's, uh, how's Amanda?"
"She's good," Kurt says, sipping at his juice and studiously avoiding my eyes. "Her parents hate me, zough. I feel awful about vhat happened, but zere's nothing I can do about it. I can't even apologize, zey von't let me."
"That's awful," I say. Embarrassed for him, not knowing what to say, I stare into my glass. It's half-empty. Half-full. Just…half.
"How about you?"
I glance up sharply, alarmed. "How about me what?"
"How is your love life?"
I snort derisively and chug the last of my juice. "Love life? Ha."
"Come on now, Rogue, you can tell me." He smiles in that trademark way of his, and I can't help but want to smile back. But it's bad for my image, and I shake my head.
"Listen, Elf Boy, Ah can't touch anyone without puttin' them in a coma. Okay? There's no love life for me. Not now, maybe not ever." I stare at the countertop, a little humiliated by my outburst. It doesn't take much to set me off, and while I'd vowed to try and be nicer to the people I'd almost killed, I'm surprised at how quickly my resolution has been thrown out the window.
"Still upset about Scott and Jean, huh," he replies.
For some reason, that statement stabs through me, and it hurts almost physically. I get up, toss my glass in the dishwasher, and stalk out of the kitchen. "What do you know," I say darkly. I've had enough.
BAMF! With the distinct scent of sulphur that doesn't even bother me anymore, Kurt's appeared in front of me. "Leesten, Rogue, Scott is a good guy, very handsome, I can see vhy you would like him. But maybe it just vasn't meant to be."
"He was nice to me," is all I can think of to say, and I turn away, wondering why I'm even talking to him about this. It's not like it matters anymore. Scott Summers only ever had eyes for Jean Grey. And why not? She was perfect. Perky, smart, athletic, popular, nice, and pretty. As for me, I'm the sullen girl with the skunk hair and the inability to touch. And a name like 'Rogue'. I was always kind of proud of it, it was distinctive, scary, powerful. I don't remember my birth name. I'm not sure I ever had a name other than the one I've got. But there's something very Cher about it, and I guess that scares Mr. Summers.
"Ya have no idea how hard it is for me," I say. Kurt opens his mouth in protest, but I plop back into the kitchen chair and plow ahead. "Ah know what you're gonna say, you're gonna say that it's hard for ya too, that ya got blue fur an' a tail, an' that doesn't sit well with the ladies. Right?" He sits across from me as I speak and nods dumbfoundedly; I've hit the nail on the head. "But ya got Amanda, don't ya? An' me...Ah don't have anyone. Even if Ah did, Ah couldn't really be with them. Not in any way that counts."
Kurt screws up his face, pondering this. "Love isn't about just kissing and touching."
"But if Ah can't..." I say helplessly.
The door to the kitchen swings open, and exhausted freshie mutants pour in. The boys immediately crowd around the fridge, while the girls mill about, chattering loudly. It's a few seconds before they notice me and Kurt, sitting at the table, one half-filled juice glass between us.
It's Amara who spots me first, and her face goes slack. Jubilee and Rahne look questioningly at her, then see me and quiet down themselves. I'm a one-woman conversation killer.
"You guys want some food or something..?" Bobby asks, then he too spots me. "Oh."
"Ah don't know what y'all are freakin' out about," I say darkly. "Ah haven't absorbed any of ya."
Jamie makes a squeak, and backs away, running into the countertop and popping out two more copies of him. All three squirts look terrified, knowing that they're the exception.
"Vould you guys just relax?" Kurt says, and he sounds unusually irritable. "None of us run in fear any time you use your powers." He rolls his eyes. "Vhich ve should, because you use zem any chance you get."
"But it's different with her," Ray says. He won't quite look at me, just angles his thumb in my direction.
"How is it different?" Kurt answers. "She's a freak? News flash, ve're all freaks. I'm her brozzer, aren't I? And look at me. If you ask me, untouchable skin is Rogue getting the good genes."
I'm too pleased and proud and trying to hide it to point out that we're not related by blood. But after that, I'm secretly wishing that we were, honestly and earnestly.
"Listen, ya wanna be afraid of mah powers, y'all go right ahead," I say calmly. "Ah'm afraid of 'em mahself. But Ah'm on your guys' side, okay? Ah'm an X-Man, and proud ta be one. Ah ain't gonna turn mah back on the team, and Ah ain't gonna fight against ya if Ah don't hafta. Satisfied?"
The freshies gape at me open-mouthed for awhile, then nod. After a pause, Rahne offers me a timid smile. "Let's go guys," Sam says, and the crowd disperses, but not before Rahne flaps her hand at me slightly. Naturally, the girl-dog would be the first to trust me. Guess I have the right scent or something. Not that I'm complaining. One ally is better than none.
When the door closes again, I smile at Kurt. "Thanks."
"For vhat?" he says innocently. I don't know if he's playing dumb or just doesn't get it. Backing each other up is such a big part of being X-Men that it's just second nature for some of us.
"For gettin' mah back like that."
"It vas no biggie," he says, smiling.
Kitty chose that moment to drop in from the ceiling and landed neatly in a chair. "Hey, guys. What's up?"
"You vere for a second. Now you're sitting."
Kitty rolls her eyes. "Funny, Kurt. So what's going on?"
"Ah'm scarin' off the lil' mutants," I say.
"Again?" Kitty says nonchalantly, and she's joking, acting like I'm not a huge freak, even among mutants. She likes me as a person, thinks of me as her friend, isn't afraid of me. If it didn't have serious repercussions, I'd hug the girl. My sudden rush of friendliness to Kitty and Kurt surprises me, it's a far cry from my usual Southern-Gothic, get-away-from-me-or-I'll-fry-your-ass demeanor.
"They're all piss-scared Ah'm gonna absorb 'em," I explain.
"Rogue?" Kurt says suddenly, and we both look at him. "Vhat's it like? Absorbing, I mean. Does it hurt you?"
No one's ever really cared how it's affected me. Well, the Professor and Mr. McCoy do, because they're looking out for my health, but none of the students have ever asked. "It's like...Ah get real dizzy for a sec, but it passes, and Ah can feel their power...like, Ah absorbed Scott, an' Ah could feel mah eyes burnin'...an' Ah hear their thoughts in mah head. It's not really words so much as white noise, y'know? The newest voice takes over for awhile, an' Ah have the bigger parts a' their personality, but pretty soon it all fades back."
"But it's still there, right?" Kitty says, and the both of them are peering at me with wide eyes, morbidly curious.
"Yeah, it's there, all of it, all of 'em, just this big crowded noise. Sometimes it gets so loud that it hurts, but Ah'm doin' mah best to drown it out."
"Are...are ve in zere?" Kurt asks timidly.
"Yeah, y'all are both in there."
"We're not, like, we're not like the rest of them, are we?" Kitty stammers. "All noisy and like, headache-inducing?"
"Ah can't really tell any of the voices apart," I admit. "Ah..." My body shakes in an unprecedented sigh. "It's hard, okay? Ah don't wanna sound mean or nothin', but Ah can't explain it, y'all just wouldn't understand. Ah have lotsa memories, but Ah don't know which ones are mine. Y'know what it's like to not know if it's you that really likes the Three Stooges, or someone that you touched for five seconds a year ago? Ya don't know what's really you anymore...ya think that ya have you're own personality, but it's more like this communal personality."
The looks they're giving me are bordering on pity, and I'm about to start feeling bad for myself again, but the door swings open again. Kitty and Kurt are the only ones who don't use doors in the mansion. To my relief, it's Logan, whose lips quirk up very slightly when he sees me. "Elf. Half-pint," he greets us in turn. "Stripes. Out of the Med Bay, I see."
We'd smiled at each other when I'd first woken up, and I felt relieved, so glad I hadn't hurt him. Not that I could have done much damage, even with all of my added powers, considering his healing factor and everything, but all the same. Logan's always been nice to me. He's gruff and mean and hard on all of us, but I know he's looking out for us and would go and has gone ballistic on anyone that threatened our safety. I feel this kinship with him, that everyone's kind of afraid of him, too, that he has a lot of questions that he can't answer, that his memories are sporadic and confusing and he doesn't understand his past. I really look up to him.
"Yeah, Mr. McCoy let me out two days ago," I say. Logan's been out of the mansion for quite some time, looking for Mystique. Storm had gone with him for a couple of days, but came back to the mansion, deciding that she would be of more use here. Of the two of them, I wish that Logan would be the one that had come back early, because at least he doesn't look at me in that sad way, like I was the child gone awry.
"Um, Mr. Logan..." Kurt says, "did you find her? Our mozzer?"
I cringe at the word mother, and Kurt and Kitty don't notice it, but Logan does. All the same, he doesn't try to pussyfoot around me, doesn't try to change the subject or anything, which I appreciate. "I can't find her, but I found some leads. I figure I'll head out tomorrow in the jet."
"No, don't," I say sharply, and all three of them turn to look at me. "Ah mean...just...Ah don't want to find her. Not just yet. Ah have a lot of questions, sure, but Ah'm still tryin' to figure stuff out right now."
Logan stares at me. "Ya sure?"
"Ah'm sure," I say, without hesitation or stuttering. If I needed to, I could dredge up Mystique in my mind, and find out the answers for myself. But I don't tell them that. I don't want to use that option, I don't want to use any option, I just don't want to know. I was almost happy in my ignorance, as happy as a person like me could ever get, I suppose. And I don't think it was coincidence that I find out the truth about my family ties on the same night that my voices take over. The Professor thinks that high-stress situations make me lose control of the mental hold I have over them Like I said, I don't deal well in crowds, so I can't think of a more high-stress atmosphere.
"If ya say so, Stripes." Logan turns his back to us as he hovered around the coffee maker. "Hank leave me any?"
"It's like, one in the afternoon, Mr. Logan," Kitty says. "No one drinks coffee now."
He gives her a sideways look. "In Europe, they do."
Kitty stares at him, disbelieving and insulted all at once, and Kurt looks confused, but Logan glances quickly at me and we both hide smiles.
"Well, if there's no coffee, then I'm going out to Harry's," Logan says, putting down his mug and heading for the door.
"Can we go with ya?" I ask. He turns and cocks one eyebrow at me. I'm being unusually sociable and bold, and I know it.
The corners of his mouth quirk slightly, but other than that he keeps a stoic face. "See me in a few years, kiddo."
"Ah'll hold ya to that," I call after him as he leaves.
Kitty raises an eyebrow in my direction. "You're being very...un-you."
"Keety's right, you're being very cheerful," Kurt agrees. He pauses. "For you."
"What's that supposed ta mean?" I say, but I can't help smiling. They're totally right, I am being very cheerful for me. Almost at Kitty-level perkiness, which is odd, considering that an hour or so ago, I was feeling murderous as usual, especially towards Kitty (and Christina Aguilera).
"Kurt means that you're, like, happy," Kitty says. "And it's weird."
"Maybe Ah, like, finally have a reason ta be," I shoot back, using 'like' to mock Kitty, but she isn't offended, she just smiles. I find it odd that I actually do have a reason. The Professor has somewhat stilled the voices, so they're a low hum, barely perceptible. And I feel clear, good.
Kitty smiles at me, gets up, and opens the fridge. I'm glad to see that she doesn't phase through everything just because she can. Kurt makes a joke, and we both laugh, although I didn't quite hear it. I'm tuning them out, the real voices around me as well as the ones in my head, left in my own blissful silence so I can process. I really do feel good.
The door swings open again, and we look up. The Professor is rolling through, smiling genially at each of us. He looks especially pleased to see me. "Rogue! So glad you're up and walking around again. How are you feeling?"
"Much better," I answer, then add hesitantly, "Um, Professor?"
He cocks an eyebrow at me and waits for me to continue. "Ah just wanted to say, um, thanks. For helping me."
Kurt and Kitty look sort of surprised, but the Prof has the decency not to. Admittedly, doling out thanks isn't my thing, but I've done it a lot more since coming to the mansion. Having a group of people saving your life on a regular basis is good cause for it, I'd say.
"It was my pleasure, Rogue." And I know it was. The Prof just wants to help us --all of us, not just the X-Men-- learn to cope with our powers and be more accepting of our mutant status. He's doing a pretty good job. Staying here has helped me a lot. I'm a lot more athletic, not that I'd ever dream of joining a sports team or anything like that. But I've got lots of physical prowess that works on a defensive and offensive level. I'm a lot less rebellious, more inclined to listen to authority. At least, if the authority is the Prof or Logan or Scott. Never Principal Kelly or anyone like that. It's more like, I'm thinking like a teammate now. And I want to be a part of the team.
"Hey, um, we were gonna...we were gonna have lunch," I say, glancing at Kurt and Kitty. "You wanna join us?"
He looks thrilled. "Why, yes, I would, thank you." He brings himself over to the table, and I get up to help Kitty make sandwiches. He seems genuinely happy that we asked, and it occurs to me that it's because he really cares about us, maybe even thinks of us as his children. And I guess no one thinks of him as a father figure, except for maybe Scott and Jean. With the exceptions of me, Kurt, and Scott, I think all of the kids really come from happy homes. I don't think any of them fully appreciate how much the Professor is looking out for us, all the work he does and all the things he sacrifices to make sure that we're okay. Like that huge exertion he put on himself, wiping the minds of everyone at the soccer meet when our identity was revealed. And did anyone ever think about how hard he must work, maybe not at a nine-to-five, but he's still pushing to get money to help raise us kids in the environment that is truly best for us. He devotes his time to seeing that we're trained and counseled.
And to me, in a way, he really is like a father. He and Logan are the only authority figures I've ever really respected, save for Irene (that is, before I learned that it was all a sham).
I set out plates in front of our four places, and Kitty passes out sandwiches and fruit. Before long we're launching into a conversation about a funny thing that happened in Kurt's biology class, and it's not like the Professor is our father, not exactly, it's like he's our friend. And it's comfortable.
After lunch is over, Kurt and Kitty go to see what the other kids are doing. I lag behind, cleaning up the remnants of our lunch.
"Would you like some assistance?" the Professor asks, but I shake my head.
"That's okay, Ah've got it." I load the plates into the dishwasher.
"Not to pry, but would you like another session?" he asks.
"Maybe later," I say, and flash him a quick smile to let him know that I'm not brooding. "It's been pretty quiet up there lately. Just as well, it's not exactly peaceful around the mansion or anythin'."
He laughs at this and pushes his fingertips together. "I suppose you're right. Well, whenever you want a session, please, don't hesitate to contact me. I'm here to help, Rogue."
"Ah know," I say. "Really, Ah appreciate it, but it's okay."
"I understand you talked to Logan earlier," he says, fixing me with one of his serious stares.
I know that any strong rush of emotion I experience, he'll pick up, so I try to keep my voice neutral. As it is, though, I'm not sure what I'm feeling. "Yeah, we had a chat. He says he hasn't found Mystique yet. Ah told him Ah didn't care if he looked."
"I see."
It's one of his tricks; not say anything, wait for us to blurt out all of our secrets and insecurities so he can counsel us. It's annoying, but surprisingly effective. It's not just his telepathy, the man has a manner about him that makes you feel uncomfortable and at ease all at once. I can't help myself but continue, although I pause to put the remaining glasses in the dishwasher before sitting across the table from him.
"Ah don't, really. Mystique…she's lied to me, an' she's used me, an'…well, she's the last person on Earth Ah'd want for a mother. So Ah don't care where she is, just as long as it's far away from me." I sigh. "But Kurt…she is his mother. An' Ah know that it's totally crazy, but he kinda misses her…Mrs. Pryde called here the other day, an' you shoulda seen Kurt's face, poor guy was so upset…he likes his adoptive parents, but distance is hard, and Mystique's his real mom, and she's right here, and she wants nothin' to do with him."
The Professor nods. "You care a lot more about Kurt than you let on," he says.
I look down at the tabletop. "Yeah, well…" is all I can think of to say, but I know he understands.
"And what of Scott and Jean?"
I look up sharply. How does he..? Of course. He's been going into my brain to still the voices, and while he swears he doesn't read minds unless given permission…
"Ah don't wanna talk about it," I snarl. How dare he bring up Scott and Jean, how dare he? I'm suddenly filled with rage, but it's not directed solely at him. Does everyone know? Everyone but Scott. The professor knows. Kurt knows. Kitty knows. Jean most likely knows. The only one I've ever told was Risty but she…well, she's Mystique.
She was my best friend, Risty Wilde was, but that was all a huge lie. A huge, awful, evil lie. I wonder if the Brotherhood knew, if they were all laughing about it behind my back, those idiot jerks, laughing at the silly girl who had a crush on the world's biggest goober, and whose was really her ex-principal, ex-adoptive mother.
I felt bad for Kurt, too. She'd chosen to raise me, but Kurt she'd abandoned at birth. The thing was, he didn't seem too upset about that, he found kinship in our almost siblinghood. Because now he had family. Messed-up family, but family all the same.
"Nothing you say here will ever reach other ears," the Professor says quietly. "Or minds," he adds, in case I'd forgotten that he and Jean are telepaths. Still harping on the Scott-Jean thing.
"What's wrong with me is so much more than Scottie Summers and lil' miss Ah'm-so-perfect," I snap. And then I realize exactly what I've said, and how it sounds like maybe there is something wrong with me.
Is there? Is there something wrong with me? I sigh.
"Okay, maybe Ah…maybe Ah'm a lil' jealous a' Jean. But don't anyone ever tell Scott that. He doesn't know that Ah like him, an' he ain't ever going to. He'd feel all bad about it, an' then he'd go out of his way to be nice ta me, an' then he'd wonder if maybe that was too much, an' so he wouldn't talk ta me at all, ya know? An' the entire time, he'd be overthinkin' it, an' Jean would get all upset. An' Ah don't know about you, but Ah don't really want ta hafta deal with an angry, telekinetic teenager."
He gives me a gentle smile. "You seem to know a lot about Scott's character."
"Yeah, well, he's a stand-up guy, Summers," I say offhand, but we both know what I'm not saying, and he's not using his powers to know that. "Ah respect him as a leader. He's 'bout the only one Ah respect…'cept Logan, Ah guess. But Ah dunno." I sigh, suddenly filled with despair as my thoughts dance over our battles and practices, and the seemingly meaninglessness of it all. "Why do we fight the fight, Professor? Why bother? Will it ever make a difference?"
He nods, wearing a sage expression. "Someday it will, my dear. Someday, all the work you've done here will be more important than you can ever imagine."
"Ya'd better be right, Professor."
"Is it truly the work causing you distress, Rogue? Or is it something else?"
"Ah already told ya 'bout how Ah feel 'bout Jean, Ah ain't gonna go into that again. An' Ah told ya 'bout Mystique an' everything, an' Ah also told ya that Ah wasn't in the mood for another session." They sound like nasty words, but for once, my tone isn't nasty at all. Just tired.
Once again, Professor X is wearing a genial smile. "I understand. Perhaps another time then." He gives me a tiny head nod, and then wheels out of the room.
I find myself jumping up and chasing after him into the hallway. "Professor!"
"Yes?" he asks, angling slightly to see me better.
"Thanks." Because I do feel oddly cleansed. I'm beginning to realize the sheer power of what finally having a decent family structure is doing for my psyche. Mine and mine alone, not the various ones in my head. And with the quelling of my own voice comes a peace that has me able to stifle the other voices into a gentle hum.
Today, for the first time since I arrived at the Institute, I feel peaceful. I feel fine. I feel wonderfully, uniquely myself, and it's a wonderful thing. It took the entire morning for this calm to settle over me, but I chalk it up largely to my interactions with the others. My pseudo fathers, Logan and the Professor. My roommate, best friend, and practically sister, Kitty. My actual (well, sort of) brother, Kurt.
Then I realize that the people that made me feel cheerful today weren't Scott. And that while Scott still on some level means a lot to me…I didn't need him. I don't need him. I'm free. It still won't be easy to get over my crush on him, especially with him parading Jean around under my nose, but it'll be easier now.
I start off in search of Kitty and Kurt. Maybe they'll want to take a walk or something. Or heck, even play some Mutant Ball.