A/N: Can't resist the call of the update, nope nope nope! I'm really impressed with myself for going the extra mile and writing so much. I have no idea how long this story will be anymore, considering I'm making the chapters long--for me anyway. I'm thinking somewhere in the neighborhood of ten? Don't quote me though! Anyway, this is a fun chapter to write. Enjoy!
I dedicate this chapter to Vonna, the Romy-holic and my midnight conspirator in regards to this story. Thanks!
Seeking Solace
Chapter 4
Dear Mom:
It happened. Yes, it really did. For the first time in my reasonably short life, I went to an actual school. And when I say a real school, I mean a real school, Mom. Lunch trays and spitballs and lockers...even gym class. The whole nine yards.
I expected to be scared, or nervous, but surprisingly, I wasn't. It was actually, kinda nice.
I met a few people, got a few text books, and even a paper cut! Okay, you know you're a loser when you're happy over a paper cut, but it's all for the greater good.
I know that you may be thinking that I'm slaking off, Mom. That I'm having too much fun pretending and not doing enough to find Peter--which is my cause for being here in the first place. Maybe you're even a little right about it. I am having too much fun here. But I haven't forgotten about Pete. In fact, I made it a priority to see Professor Xavier every evening to have a private Cerebro session. So far, there haven't been any outstanding findings, but we'll keep looking until we find him.
Or until I have to leave.
I have an empty feeling when I tick the days off on the small two dollar calendar I bought from a drug store. Four weeks is all the stands between me and leaving this place. It's not one of those happy feelings of anticipation, like when you're waiting for the sequel to a movie, or to go on a vacation, or for a fanfiction update.
No, this is the kind of nervous anticipation you have before you get caught doing something wrong. Or before you know you're going to die.
I'm full of nervous tension, Mom, and I don't like it. It only really compounds on me at night when no one else is around. My days are usually too hectic to allow me much time for random thought. The nights are just so quiet, so lonely for me.
This week was so full of new things to experience and discover, just like last week. School, Mom, is something just like, and so unlike, anything I ever expected it to be. I love it and hate it already, even after only one day. Mostly, I just want to continue on with it. To see where it takes me. Like a running river where I'm clinging to a piece of driftwood.
Rogue would be my driftwood. It's funny really, Mom. Hell, I've never had many friends, let alone a girl! I was always surrounded by men, except for you. She is something though, all spitfire and southern belle. Our conversations are never dull, and I feel a kinship to her that's pretty nice. Best thing of all--I'm not scared to be alone around her. She's a girl, and I've never feared women. I can totally be at ease and be myself in her company. It makes my life a whole lot simpler in one aspect.
Then there is my other problem. His name is Kurt. You remember that incident that happened last week right? After the rain? After that, I kind of avoided him for a while. I went nearly four days without being alone with him, until I was driven by my insane pickle urge and he popped in for a midnight snack again. We were awkward at first, considering I really don't know what drove me to kiss him in the first place--even if it was only on the cheek. But then we got into a debate on the misunderstood pickles once again, and our awkwardness was over.
Much like my relationship with Rogue, Kurt and I exchange banter and witticism. There are times when I feel totally at ease in his company, and no matter how rare they are, I look forward to them. We talk about pointless things, food and music and movies. He's even taught me a slew of German curse words. We don't talk about family or pasts. He doesn't bring it up, neither do I. Same thing with Rogue.
Perhaps I should go back to a safer topic, like school! Okay, I admit I'm eager. Wouldn't you be, Mom? Ok, you dragged it out of me, I'll tell you about it! It began bright and early...
I beat the morning bathroom rush by about two hours, giving me plenty of time to enjoy a hot shower. As I walked back to my room, wrapped in a terry bathrobe and hair in a towel wrap, I felt surprisingly calm considering I was going to have to start my first day of school in a little more than three hours.
I had gone to the building itself a few days earlier with Ororo, who explained to me that I had to be registered and get a class schedule. I was a little miffed that I had to stay back a year, but my annoyance quickly became pleasant surprise when I realized that both Kurt and Rogue were in my grade with me. I would have more of a chance having classes with them that way.
After getting my schedule and reference papers, Ororo took me out to get some supplies. I was good on clothes now thanks to my donations from the other kids, and my fervent permission from both Rogue and Kitty that I could pick from their wardrobe if required. Despite her chattiness, I had come to like Kitty a lot. She had a lot of spirit, and a lot of surprises too.
"Ororo?" I asked, following after her cart as we wandered through Staples. She picked and chose some notebooks and binders. "Why do I need all of this stuff? I'll only be here a few weeks!"
"Just in case," she told me with a secret smile. It was like she knew something I didn't.
I shrugged. "Ok," I told her. "It's your money."
That made her look at me strangely. "Parker?"
"Yeah-huh?"
"How did you get money while you were on the road?"
I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it. That was one of the things I had hoped no one would ask me. Still, I couldn't lie, but it was rather...illegal. And no, I didn't whore myself or anything that desperate. Sometimes I'd work odd-jobs that would only last a few weeks. I never exactly stole, but sometimes, when I had no other choice, I'd use my powers.
I hung my head when I told her that. "I never made anything over a twenty," I told her with a frown. "I've never seen anything over a twenty close enough to make a passable copy of anyway. It was only when I had no other choice, and that wasn't often. I never felt right about doing that."
"You shouldn't do that anymore," she told me firmly, but not without kindness.
"I don't plan on it. Sometimes, it just happened."
"Come along then," she said, wheeling the cart on. "We have to find you a backpack now."
I scampered after her. "You mean, you're not mad?"
"Desperation drives us to do things we normally wouldn't do," she said wisely. "I don't think you are enough of a dishonest person to do such a thing on a regular basis."
I grinned at her. "You really are a kicker, you know that?" She smiled back at me and finished our shopping.
When we got back to the Institute, I carried a few of her bags up to her room with her. That's the first time I had even been in her room, and I was overjoyed. "Ororo!" I said, dropping the bags and hurrying to the window. "You have a Chia herb garden!"
She laughed. "That was a Christmas present from Evan."
"African violets," I breathed, brushing my fingers tentatively across the delicate leaves. "Miniature roses. Wow, you even have a bonsai tree!"
"You seem to know a lot about plants," she said with a pleasant smile.
"My guilty pleasure," I confided. "My mother had the most beautiful garden in our backyard. I used to pretend I was Mary, from The Secret Garden. Peter would always be Colin. We could play for hours in all the flowers." I stroked a large violet blossom as I reminisced. "Flowers were the first things that I created with my power, when I was nine."
"Here." I turned as Ororo handed me a small potted plant. It was browning around the leaves' edges. "You seem to care about plants as much as I do. This is my youngest ivy plant. I just can't seem to make it well again. Do you think you could help me?"
I looked at the small green-and-brown plant in my arms, them to the lovely woman before me. Cradling the pot in one hand, I wrapped the other around her. "Thank you," was all I managed for a moment.
Ororo reminded me of Selene in some ways. The way she walked and held herself, like elegant royalty. The way she spoke with affectionate firmness. Her love of plants, and her devotion to children in need. Maybe that's why I cried when I hugged her, inhaling a scent of soil and the metallic scent of a storm.
Ororo never mentioned that afternoon in her room after I left. I never brought it up either. We had an unspoken agreement over it that resulted in my potted plant. I placed in on my window sill. I watered it, and gave it sun. I talked to it, reading aloud from books or reading back some of the entries in my journal to it. I even resorted to singing once. Slowly but surely, my ivy plant grew healthy again, with no signs of brown. The little vines reached eagerly toward my hand when I stroked it, green and glowing for the sun.
I named it Selene.
Mom always said that naming a plant, giving it an identity, would help it grow. A plant was just another living creature, like a cat or a dog. It just didn't have a language that we could hear. A plant could only be felt.
As I walked into my room the morning I would be starting school, I walked over to Selene and checked her soil to see if I should water her before I go.
"Looking good Sel," I told her with a grin. "I'll water you some tonight. I'm sure you'll get sun this afternoon enough to make you thirsty."
Then I wandered over to my bed, where I had a few options laid out for last minute selection. I had stayed up 'late' last night in Rogue and Kitty's room, going through their closet with them. Kitty was all about fashion, but because we were so fond of her, Rogue and I sat attentively in attention. Also joining us were Rahne and Jubilee. They were more fascinated by Kitty's rant than Rogue and I were.
"We, like, have to coordinate," she informed us. "We can't wear anything alike, or it will ruin our atmosphere."
"We have atmosphere?" I whispered to Rogue. She shrugged.
"Jean already told me that she's, like, wearing yellow tomorrow, so that leaves that selection out. Parker!"
"Huh?" I asked, jumping slightly.
"You can't wear yellow tomorrow," she said with a half-smile. "Half your wardrobe is yellow."
"Of course it is!" I complained. "I'm a blonde with yellow eyes! What am I supposed to wear, fuchsia?"
Jubilee giggled, then shook her head. "Not what we mean, Park." Park was what most of the students had started calling me. I didn't mind--in fact, I found it kind of flattering. Only the adults, Rogue, Kitty, and Kurt called me Parker anymore.
"What did she mean then, Jubes?" I asked the girl across the room. She was half done with doing Rahne's nails a nice lavender purple.
"She meant that you should try something out of her closet, as a new look. You can't wear your jeans and tee-shirts all the time."
"Why thank you Jubilee," I said sarcastically, sticking my tongue out at her. "I'll be sure to read the next issue of Cosmo!"
Rahne giggled with her roommate, then looked up at me with a soft brown gaze, head cocked to one side. "School is all about first impressions," she explained. "If you don't dress to impress, you'll go no where fast on the social ladder."
"I don't want to climb a social ladder," I whined. "I just want to pass Algebra!"
"Don't botha," Rogue told me with a smile. "They're gigglin' school girls."
I nodded, then dodged the pillows being thrown at us. "Let's, like, focus people!" Kitty called attention. "We're not finished."
"I call purple," Rahne said, looking at her finished nails. "It'll match my Jubilee manicure."
"Okay, yellow and purple, like, are done. I'll be wearing pink, as per usual..." Kitty ticked off the colors on her list. "Rogue will be wearing green, yes?"
"Uh-huh," the Goth girl said with a lazy smile. "As per usual," she drawled.
"I can still wear my yellow coat, right?" Jubilee asked. Kitty nodded. "Cool! Okay, I'll wear blue then."
"Darn!" I said, snapping my fingers. "I was going to take blue."
"Snooze, ya lose," Jubilee taunted me. I hurled her pillow back at her.
"So all that's left is you Parker," Kitty told me, grabbing one of my arms and hauling me over to her and Rogue's closet. "Let's, like, see what color looks best on you." I let myself be dragged along and sucked into the mess of teenage girl syndrome with a smile. It was actually...kinda fun.
"Orange?" Jubilee suggested as she and Rahne joined us at the closet.
"Gee, thanks Jubes," I muttered as she held a bright orange dress up to me for size comparison. As expected, it made me look sickly.
"Why not tan?" Rahne suggested, holding over a light brown shirt. It would have looked nice with a pair of jeans, but it just wasn't me.
"Can't go wrong with white," Kitty said. She plucked a white blouse out of her closet and held it up to me.
"I dunno," I said while making a face.
"Outta the way," Rogue said with a sigh, waving the others away from me. She gave me a quick once over, then reached into her closet. I was prepared for the worst, but what she extracted wasn't another gag-worthy shirt. It was, in fact, a black jacket with silver clasps on the left side and a pair of black pants with a blue stripe going down each side. "Try this."
I held it up to myself for comparison. Rogue was taller than me, but it looked like it would make a pretty good fit--and fit all the right places. "Wow," I said, looking to my friend. "Thanks Rogue."
"Don't thank me yet," she said with that pretty accent. "Thank me after ya wear it for a day."
So after another hour of laughing and complaining and talking about school, we were sent to bed by Ororo. I took the borrowed clothes and laid them out on my bed before going down for my casual, usual midnight snack with Kurt. He didn't disappoint, popping in an hour later for our nightly chat-on-rye.
After he went back to bed, I caught a few hours' sleep and began my morning ritual. I dressed in Rogue's outfit and laced my black sneakers up tight. Then I put in my color contact lenses, the ones DeVero made me wear whenever I went out because he didn't want anyone knowing I was a mutant unless it was a promised threat. When I looked at myself in the dresser mirror, blue eyes staring back at me, I began feeling a little guilty. Here I was, going to school and laughing it up with girls, when I should be out there looking for my brother.
I brushed my hair with a frown, then held it back with a clip. My hair is very strange. The front is shorter than the back, so there are these strands that always fall around my face regardless of what I do. It gives me a haunted look. In that moment, wearing all black, I didn't really like it.
Without applying any of the make-up Kitty loaned me, I walked out of my room with only a brief goodbye to Selene and a pause long enough to grab my backpack. Then I went into the kitchen and brewed some coffee. Ororo joined me a little later and we made breakfast together.
Eventually everyone came down and ate. Kitty and Rahne even complimented me outfit. Rogue only smiled, refusing to gloat about the fact that she was right. I felt a little awkward though--considering half the boys at the table were giving me that predatory stare a male gives a female he's about to ask to Prom. I wanted to curl up in a corner. Worse? I wanted to scream at them to stop looking at me. I'm not a girl that goes on a nice date with a nice boy. I'm not a bad girl that fucks and walks. I'm nothing to a man, and I've never wanted to be anything to a man. End of story.
As soon as I finished, I put my dishes in the sink, said my goodbyes to Ororo, and left for the garage. I had to escape the eyes and breathe a little fresh air. I was happily surprised the Rogue followed me, still taking bites out of a half-eaten apple.
"Fruit's good this time o' year," she commented idly, walking beside me.
"The boys were looking at me," I said. She hadn't asked, but I wanted to tell her. "I don't like being looked at much."
"Ya should get used to it," she told me with a pensive expression. "Yer a pretty girl."
"Normally, you'd get a 'thank you', but pretty for me is not something I like." I sighed, touching the silver scar over my eyebrow. "If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell any of the others?" I looked over at her, silently pleading for confidence in her.
Rogue nodded, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "O' course," she told me, patting my arm with a gloved hand in a comforting gesture.
I hugged myself and looked away from her. "I've never had a female friend before. The only woman I was ever close with was my mother. She died when I was eleven, and after that, my foster father kept me locked in his home unless he had need of me elsewhere. All my guards were men. All my instructors were men. All of them looked at me, and I hated each of them for it."
Rogue placed her hand on my arm again, looking at me with compassion but without pity. I patted her hand and smiled at her. I realized now that I had really grown to care for this girl and her subtle gestures and her haunting eyes.
I would have hugged her--and the 'no touching' thing wasn't what stopped me. Fact was, neither of us were that affectionate of people. We were more contained, more controlled. That's what drew us to each other, and we fed upon it from one another.
With a sigh, I cracked my neck and looked toward the garage. Then I looked back at her and grinned. "Wanna ride to school?"
"On yer bike?" she asked, eyes sparkling already.
"Totally!" I said. We dashed off together, my unease already forgotten.
I loaned Rogue my helmet and instead 'borrowed' Logan's. He wouldn't mind too much. Just like he hadn't minded too much about my borrowing his motorcycle. Yes, he had figured out it was taken. I was the first he came to, but I neither confirmed nor denied. I don't like to lie. He didn't punish or yell. All he did was say that if 'I was gonna touch his bike, I sure as hell better fix the wiring better'. Thus it was left as an unspoken challenge I was yet to take up.
I started up my bike, both mine and Rogue's backpacks in the saddle bags. I revved the engine, then swung us in the direction of the school. We were off just as the rest of the students were coming out to their own vehicles. Rogue even had the nerve to wave as we past. They only caught sight of us, but I'm sure all of them heard us laughing.
When we got to the High School, I parked my bike in the first available spot. It was kinda out-of-the-way, just in case anyone got the bright idea to steal it or anything. Rogue and I fished out of bags and schedules, happily discussing how we had almost all of our classes together, except I was taking a writing class and she had a music class. After careful prods by yours truly, she spilled that she played the guitar and dabbled in singing. After that, I made her promise to sing for me that afternoon.
As we walked toward the school, I looked around the grounds. All clean-cut and pretty, like any suburban high school should be. Bayville High was written above the doors grandly, announcing our welcome. I looked toward Rogue, ready for her usual banter, but she had slowed and her eyes were trained on something else.
I followed her gaze and saw that it was on a figure leaning against a nearby tree, maybe fifty feet from us. A second glance made me sure that it was a guy, dressed casually in a long leather jacket, with a lit cigarette in his hand. I tilted my head and looked toward Rogue. She was staring at him as if he was lifeline to the Earth. I turned back to look again at the man by the tree. He seemed to be around eighteen, and was very handsome with dark hair that fell across his face in that scruffy/dashing way. He wasn't looking in our direction at first, but when he did turn our way, I saw that his eyes almost glowed red. A mutant!
"Oh, he's cute," I commented so that only she could hear. Rogue jumped and looked at me.
"Wha?"
"I said he's cute," I repeated, looking her in the eye. "Tree-boy. The one you're drooling over."
"Ah am not droolin'," she said indignantly. Like I should be ashamed that I even thought of such a thing!
"Come on now," I snickered. "You were giving him a pretty long once-over." Rogue turned haughty on me, looking away and crossing her arms. I struck a nerve. Then I realized it. "You like him, don't you?!"
She only stared at me, her mouth hanging open. "Are ya insane?! I don't like 'im! I can barely stand 'im!"
"Ah-ha!" I said triumphantly. "So you know him!"
"Ah neva said I didn't," Rogue responded stubbornly.
"So who is he?" I asked curiously. I looked over again and he was watching the pair of us with open amusement. Oh, I liked him already! Even if he was a guy. Best part? He was totally checking out Rogue, barely looking at me! Normally a girl would be insulted, but I was absolutely elated.
"The enemy," she responded firmly.
"Enemy?"
"He works for the bad guys," she told me with a flat expression. I couldn't be sure, but a look of what could have been sadness flashed in her eyes. "The guys we fight."
"The Brotherhood guys that Scott's always yelling about?" I asked, looking at him again. Somehow, I doubted he was in high school.
"Naw, he works directly for Magneto, the really bad one."
I nodded, frowning slightly. "Doesn't mean he's a bad guy," I insisted. "Good people can be driven to bad things, but it doesn't mean they're bad."
"Ah s'pose," she said with a shrug. "Not that I care."
I grinned, then got a perfectly devious idea. I slid my backpack off of my shoulder. "Hold this, would you dear?"
Rogue took it and gave me a bewildered look. "Where ya goin'?"
"I need a smoke," I said casually. Then I turned from my friend and sauntered toward the tree. The guy beneath it already raised an eyebrow at my actions, but he pushed himself up to a respectable height and regarded me politely. "Good morning," I said cheerily. "I was wondering if I could beg a cigarette off of you."
"But of course," he said ever so politely, offering me his half-crushed pack. And I would have you know that that he had the most delicious French accent. Of the three languages I spoke, French was by far my favorite, so I couldn't resist baiting him into conversation to see whether or not the accent was for show.
"Vous parlez Français?" I asked him.
He looked a little surprised for a moment, then smiled lazily as he brought his cigarette to his mouth. Now that I could see him up close, I could tell that his eyes really were red--red and black. It was a distinguished mutant trait. Like myself, he was born with the eyes of a mutant and the body of a norm. "Naturellement je parle Francais," he responded.
I smiled back, enchanted, then reached up and plucked the lit cigarette from his mouth. I brought it to my lips and took a small drag. Casually, in a conversational tone, I told him that I had seen him looking at Rogue. "Je vous ai vu regarder mon ami."
I can't explain why I felt so daring all of a sudden. I wasn't feeling threatened by this young man at all. It was probably because Rogue was not far away and I could feel her glaring daggers at my back every second. I always felt braver when she was around, and braver still when I could get a rise out of her.
Tree-boy, as I had dubbed him, smiled somewhat impishly, like halfway between being sorry and not being sorry at all. He was caught, that was all. "Elle est tres jolie," he said to defend his own actions. I guess he felt that by saying Rogue was pretty, I would excuse his behavior. Of course I already forgave him, but it was fun to see how far I could go with this.
I took another puff of his cigarette and handed it back to him. "Mon nom est Parker." I introduced myself with a smile. "Ne la regardez pas encore." Still, I kept my voice casual as I tone him not to look at her before grinning and adding, "A moinsque vous vouliez avoir affaire avec moi."
He grinned at me easily, not at all heeding my empty threat. I think he liked my attitude. "Je suis Remy," he told me, even daring to bow his head slightly. When he looked up, he met my eyes. "Et je ne peux m'empecher de regarder votre ami."
I snorted and smiled. He was a very charming sucker, and I was completely under his spell. As I turned to leave, I looked back. "You shouldn't smoke those," I told him in English now. "They'll kill you."
I heard him chuckling as I walked back to a very steamed looking Rogue. I smiled at her and she shoved my backpack at me as she stomped off. "Hold on Rogue!" I laughed.
"Why did ya do that?" she vented on me. Her green eyes flashed dangerously, but I could tell by the blush on her face that she was jealous more than angry. "Ya shoulda ignored 'im. That's what we're s'posed ta do!"
"I'm sorry, really!" I told her. "I just wanted to talk to him. He seemed like a nice guy."
She was silent for a minute. "Ah didn't know ya smoked," was all she said.
"Nasty habit I picked up a few years back. I quit though," I assured her. "I just puff now and again. It was just an excuse to bait him into conversation."
"Were ya speakin' French?" she asked, eyeing me as she climbed the school steps.
I tossed a look back at the tree, but Remy--the charming French-speaking mutant--was already gone. "I can speak three fluent languages," I told her. "French, Spanish and English. Though I can now curse in German, thanks to Kurt."
Rogue snorted and shook her head. "Yer fulla surprises, huh?"
I shrugged. "I have a lot of hidden talents," was my reply.
"So what exactly did ya talk to 'im about?" Rogue asked subtlety, watching me out of the corner of her eye. I grinned and elbowed her in the arm.
"Wouldn't you like to know!"
"Ah would, actually," she replied. Her color rose once more, but she was a very proud person so I didn't mock her--too badly.
I shrugged, but I was grinning happily. "Nothing too important. Just asked him for a smoke. Told him I saw that he was checking you out. He said it was because you're pretty. I laughed, introduced myself and told him not to check you out unless he wanted to deal with me, seeing how you oh-so-hate his very presence. Then he just laughed, introduced himself, and said he couldn't stop looking at you. Then I told him to quit smoking." I flipped my hand and shook my head. "You know, it was something like that."
Rogue blinked at me, absorbing the conversation. "He was checkin' me out?" she squeaked in alarm.
I laughed. "Oh Rogue, you're such a girl!"
"Ah resent that," was her reply. Then we went to our lockers and began a day of schooling.
I won't go into too much detail of school, since it was the first day and rather weird. I got a few books, filled out a few emergency cards, and mostly just sat around and talked with my fellow students--AKA Rogue. Though I did have lunch with the rest of the X-Men squad. I even dragged Rogue over to the table. She usually preferred to sit alone, but I won't let her be alone with me around.
I gave Rogue a ride home, which we detoured a little to stop at a 7-eleven. The Slurpies were on me. Then we went home and laid around a little bit, listening to some music. I even convinced Rogue to play a tune for me on her guitar. It was a domestic thing. A teenage thing. I was sitting around with my friend after a day at school.
I was enjoying the pretend life I had. Eating diner with my roommates, talking with the teachers. But then the night came and I was alone again as everyone retired for the new day. I found myself weary, so I went to my room for my two hours of sleep rather early.
That's when I had the dream.
I can't say exactly when I realized I was dreaming because one moment I was laying on my little bed and the next I was laying on some kind of a battle field.
I was laying on the cold, hard ground and couldn't get up. I could hear shouting around me, voices of people fighting. I heard the sound of lightning striking, of energy crackling, whining explosions. Still, I couldn't get up, I could barely even move enough to breathe. My eyes were unfocused and I could taste blood in the back of my throat. I could also smell it in the air, along with the tang of sweat and smoke.
A face swam above my eyes. A face framed in flaxen hair. A face with eyes as yellow as my own. He was older of course, more mature. We didn't look as alike as we used to, me looking more feminine and him growing more handsome. But I recognized him in my heart after an instant. Peter.
I choked on his name and he smiled, grabbing my hand and putting it to the side of his face. I head an echo of his voice. "Parker." I saw his smile, felt the warmth of his skin. I felt tears running from my eyes. Oh God, how I love him. How I miss him. But then I saw something glint behind his head and Peter went ridged.
I called his name as his eyes glazed over and looked forward. I screamed his name. His mouth opened, but only blood dripped out. I screamed again as he fell back.
I saw the hand hovering over him. A hand holding a bloody, jagged knife. Then another face swam into view, a vile face I had hoped to forget with time. DeVero, my hated foster father. My enemy. He smiled down at him, his darkly handsome features twisted in his sick pleasure as he leaned over me, the bloody knife in his grasp.
"No more," he whispered in my ear. Then I felt his hands on my head, shifting me to see. What I saw, I wish I never had. I saw the X-men, every one of them. They were all dead. Their bodies hanging lifeless on a wall like the dead of old, trophies to ward off others who might rebel. A warning and a promise. Ororo, Xavier, Logan...Kitty, Rogue...Kurt. All of them, bloody and broken and lifeless.
I sobbed, but then DeVero jerked my head back to face him. "No more!" he said again, then everything went black as the knife hovered over my chest.
I woke up in my bed in the Institute, clutching my chest as I sobbed into my pillow. It was a dream of prophecy, a dream to come. Figurative, but still true. If he found this place, found these people, found my brother, Andrew DeVero would kill them all. Only after everything I loved was gone would he come after me. And I knew this time, a simple beating would not be punishment enough.
Wobbling to my feet, and fled my little room and all the homeliness it held, wanting to distance myself from my bed and all thoughts of dreams. I was going to go to the library, but decided on the kitchen instead. I needed a drink of water to calm my heart. I walked into the dark room, got my glass, then took my water and sat at the counter.
I half expected what happened next, though I was wishing it wouldn't.
Kurt appeared in our usual place, rummaged in the fridge for his sandwich, then hopped on to the counter. Since it was dark, I didn't speak, hoping that if he thought I wasn't there then he'd leave. But he didn't. He just sat on the counter and began chewing. It wasn't until his tail accidentally bumped into me that he turned and saw I was there.
"I didn't think you were here!" he said in surprise at finding me in the darkness. My eyes always give me away.
"I didn't want you to know," I replied.
"Why not?" he asked, confusion in his voice.
"I'm not in the mood for conversation." I didn't want to explain. As much as I liked being around Kurt, he was still a boy and he would never understand. He seemed to take this as an answer, so he ate in silence. Finally, I broke, and asked him something that was rolling in my mind. "Do you think the Professor will find my brother?"
He jumped, obviously not ready for me to talk. Then he turned to me with a pensive expression. He didn't speak, for a moment. "I have faith in him, so ja, I think he'll find your brother," he said slowly, thoughtfully. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, then nodded. "Were you thinking about him?" Kurt asked me.
"Yeah," I said quietly. I thought about the dream, the knife and the blood and the look in Peter's blank yellow eyes. I shivered, never wanting to see such a thing again. "I've lost a lot of things over the years," I said, mostly to myself. "Peter was the only thing I ever thought I could get back."
"I would feel that way if I lost any of my family too," he said quietly. I assume he felt that it would comfort me, so he went on. "They took care of me, and not many people would considering the way I am. They--"
"Kurt," I said in a soft voice, interrupting him. I felt tears well in my eyes. "I don't...want to hear this."
"Oh," was all he said. I heard the tinge of hurt in his voice and my vision clouded. I had cried to much this night, but it seemed that I would have to do it one more time.
I winced, hating to do it, but needing to at the same time. "I don't want to know about your family or your life or anything about you," I said, getting up from my seat.
I forced my voice firm and toneless, like I had been trained to do. Like I had been made to do. "In a few weeks I'll be gone, and I will for the better chance of hell, never see you again. It would be better for me if I didn't get to know anyone here." I started to leave, then looked back at him. He was watching me with a veiled expression in his pale eyes. "It would probably be better for you if you never remembered you knew me."
...I hate myself for this. I start to care, but then I can't. I have to sever the ties.
My dream was right to remind me. I can't go on this way. I can't be that person. I can't have friends and go to school and be a normal girl--or even a normal mutant. I have to stop pretending.
Pretending too much will make me think it's real, and then it will hurt more when I leave.
I will leave, Mom. I have to leave.
You know, sometimes I want you and Peter to be with me more than anything else in the world, but then I dread it. I need you to hold me and feel your warmth and hear your voice telling me that everything will be alright. I know it's another lie, Mom, but sometimes I need that lie. Sometimes I just need you, Mom.
But I don't want either of you to see what I've become.
I'm dirty. I'm ugly. I've been twisted and bent and broken, Mom. I'm not your little Parker anymore. I'm not innocent or sweet or protective. I've killed. I've lied and stolen. Things have been done to me that I will never forget or heal from, no matter how long I live. Some scars go too deep to ever heal.
I was a monster, Mom, and it nearly ate my soul away. I don't want it to happen again.
If I even have a soul left to save.
For what my love is worth--Parker
A/N: Same as always, please Review!
