A/N: Yeah...I took a bit of time from this fic so I could do my Christmas story, and then I started working on a new one...BAD ME! Rar! I have to finish this story up and start on the next X-men one I have planned. (Yes, there is another one!) I'm very sorry it took me so long to update. Life keeps getting in the way. I had exams and I've been working on my college crap, so I'm devoting self to studies and meditation. Basically, I'm not doing anything because my brain is barely functioning. Again, I'm sorry for the wait. Here is the next chapter. Enjoy!
(Kitten: Since I haven't seen you in so long, I dedicate this to you. With love! (heart))
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution. I own my soul (sort of) and Parker (yay).
WARNING: This chapter is written mostly in third person. I know it's a switch up, but in order to get in all the information I want, I needed to switch. Plus, during most of this chapter Parker is unconscious, so she doesn't have much to say!
Chapter 8
Dear Kurt,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone...
It began as every morning did, promptly at 6:25 am. He had shut off his alarm clock and gotten out of bed, same as every morning before school. But this wasn't every morning because as he got out of bed, a notebook fell out with him.
Kurt blinked blurry morning-eyes at the checkered notebook that lay on the carpet beside him. The cover had fallen open. An envelop lay beside it, but his eyes were drawn to the first page. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he realized it was Parker's from the first statement written on the first clean paper.
My name is Parker.
I am a mutant and I have lived my life to the best of my abilities.
I have no regrets, save one. I didn't kill him when I had the chance...
He had no idea what this meant. Parker hadn't given him anything yesterday, and he always saw her carrying this notebook around with her. Surprised and bewildered, he reached a three-fingered hand out and grasped the notebook. He dragged it on to his lap, curling in for a better look, and flipped through a few pages.
But you wouldn't want me to hurt anyone, would you Mom? No, you'd tell me that hurting people is wrong...
It makes me want things, Mom. It makes me wish for things I can never have, and that makes me miserable when no one is looking.
There are times when I feel totally at ease in his company, and no matter how rare they are, I look forward to them.
I am a plague upon their house, and it will come crashing down if I don't leave...
Page after page, line after line, Kurt stared at the words written in the little notebook. He shouldn't be reading this, not at all. This was personal. These were private letters written by Parker for her mother's eyes alone. It couldn't be right. Maybe she left it here accidentally. Maybe she came in to look for him and forgot it. Maybe...
Its only right that I leave this journal, something so important to me, to someone that I trust to keep this book just as sacred as I have...Kurt...
She had given this to him? The further he scanned down the page, the more he became convinced that she was going to leave. He had to stop her. Running wasn't the answer, there was always another way. He knew that. He had to make sure that she knew it too.
Kurt didn't bother with the formal activity of getting to his feet and running down the hall to her room, banging on the door and dramatically demanding she open it. No, he was a mutant, so he just by-passed that entire step of drama and etiquette to teleport into the center of her bedroom.
An empty bedroom that is.
Kurt stared around him in shock. The bed was made crisply. The desk clean. The shelves and closet bare. Nothing remained that showed any sign of a person being there except for a pile of clean, folded clothes that sat on the desk chair. Other than that, any trace of Parker Watson was gone.
Kurt gripped the notebook tightly in his hand and teleported himself into the kitchen. Maybe someone had stopped her, found her before she ran off. There was security systems, cameras, sensors. Someone had to have seen or heard or sensed her leaving!
"Kurt, why aren't you dressed?" Kitty asked, looking up from her breakfast to stare at him with a smile. She and Ororo were the only ones in the kitchen so far.
"Have you seen Parker?" he asked, looking frantically from one to the other.
"No," Ororo said with a frown. "She usually helps with breakfast. I'm surprised she slept in."
"She didn't," Kurt said, slamming the notebook down on the counter. "She's gone."
"Gone!" the two women exclaimed in unison, Kitty jumping to her feet.
"Yeah," someone said from behind. Kurt turned to find Rogue standing a few feet behind him, holding a crinkled piece of paper in a trembling hand. Her eyes were wet, but she didn't cry. She only stared at them. "She's gone, an' she ain't comin' back."
"Where would she go?" Kurt asked, concern written all over his face. "We have to find her!"
"We should talk to the professor," Kitty said with a self-assuring nod. The four quickly walked from the kitchen to the office, barging in without a knockwho thought about manners at a time like this?and all talking at once. He held up a single hand, not saying a word, and they all lapsed into silence automatically. A conditioned reflex.
"Tell me what happened."
"Parker's gone," Kurt stated.
"We gotta go afta her," Rogue agreed.
"Gone where?" Xavier questioned, a question furrowing his brow.
"We dunno," Rogue stated, flashing her letter at him. "Ah woke up with a note on the table tellin' me she had ta get gone, fast. And that she was sorry for what might happen."
"What could happen?" Kitty asked.
"Somethin' bad," Rogue commented.
"This is truly unfortunate," Xavier commented, brow furrowed in thought. "I was hoping she would have remained a few more days. I have finally picked up a warm trail as to the whereabouts of her brother. Logan left last night to see if anything came about."
"You mean...you found him?" Kurt asked, eyes widening.
Xavier nodded. "If he hasn't jumped across the country in twelve hours."
Life really sucked sometimes.
"What about Parker?" Rogue asked, desperation coloring her voice. "We hafta find her! We hafta tell her this."
"I agree," Xavier nodded.
"She couldn't have gotten far," Ororo commented. "She might still be in town. Rogue, why don't you come with me to look for her?"
A curt nod was her response. The two of them left, at a brisk pace.
"I should go tell the others, in case anyone saw her leave," Kitty said, leaving as well.
Kurt watched them, then turned to the professor with a serious expression. For one usually the spirit of joviality, it was rare. "You won't find her sitting around town."
Xavier studied him a moment, then nodded. "You're probably right." He sighed a little, then laced his fingers. "I used Cerebro to find the brother, now it looks like I must find the sister as well."
"But we will find her, won't we?"
"Of course." Kurt let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "You should go change," Xavier commented further. "If she's already out of state, we'll have to rely on our other means of transportation to track her down."
Kurt nodded, and left the office. Once outside, he teleported back to his room. Now, he couldn't really say what he was feeling, because there was so much rolling around inside of him. Anger, betrayal, worry, fear. So many things tumbling through that adolescent form. All that it added up to was one ultimate conclusion. He needed Parker to be alright, and he needed her to come home.
As he used numb fingers to paw through clothes and dress, his eyes were drawn back to the floor where the notebook had been dropped. An envelop still laid there.
A clue, perhaps? A little hope sprang to life in him as he grabbed it up and sat down on the bed. Quickly opening it, he pulled out the loose paper and read the letter scrawled to him on it. It was smudged in some places, suggesting water droplets. There were spelling errors crossed out in pencil. The hand writing was sloppy, as if fastly written down for fear of losing nerve. It was so like Parker, it made a little ache in his chest ache even more.
Dear Kurt,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone...
I am truly sorry for this, for all the trouble I have caused you. I was selfish, to just appear in all of your lives and turn everything upside down. Normally, I don't get mixed up with people. I've always stayed to myself more. Maybe it's because I'm a mutant, or maybe it's just the kind of person I am. I can't say.
This is probably the hardest letter I have ever had to write. Not because of the guilt I feel, and believe me when I say there is a lot. It's because I am going to tell you everything, and I don't really know how to say everything. Know that you, and Rogue, are the soul confidants of this information. Know that the two of you are the only people I have ever trusted enough to share this dark part of myself.
Know that you, all of you, have become my family. Each of you are precious to me now, and it's because of you that I had to leave. Call it martyrdom. Call it selfishness. Call in protection. Whatever you want. I just want you all safe, even if that means I am a horrible person for it.
You see, I really am a horrible person. I'm selfish, and impulsive. I'm overprotective, and aggressive at times. Full of flaws. You could say I'm like everyone else in that way. It's so easy to see the bad in yourself and so hard to find the good. I think the good in me died a long time ago.
I'm being too jumpy, so I'll just get to the point. Bite the bullet. Stop being a fucking coward.
To do that, I have to go back. Back to when my world changed, though at the time, I didn't see it like a big deal. You see, when I was ten years old, I met a man named Andrew DeVero. He was tall and handsome and very kind to me. He wasn't a mutant, but he was, in a way, like your professor Xavier. He gave money to people like my mother, people raising mutants and helping them gain control of their powers.
Mom always mistrusted him. She smiled and took his offerwe were living off of the money she was left by her family, and the checks she'd get for selling the art she did at homebut she never liked him. Especially when he began to take an interest in me.
I liked him, which serves to show how flawed my judge of character is. He was charming and said that I was beautiful, and that my powers made me even more so. I liked the flattery I guess. I was always the strong one in my family, and I was the one showering my brother with praise since he was never as secure in his mutation as I was. I liked that this man paid such attention to me.
After a while of him coming to see us occasionally, he made a proposition to my mother. He wanted to take me with him, to his home, to have me trained properly. For Mom, it was the last straw. She threw him out, told him to never come again, and that she would never give her children to him. Ever.
I was a little hurt, thinking that Mom was denying me a great opportunity to see the world and get a great education, but she stood firm. In the end, I knew I would probably be miserable anyway, being away from my brother and mother for who knew how long. I was always a familial person, they were everything.
But still, over the next year or so, I e-mailed Andrew DeVero, even though my mother told me to break ties with him. I still wanted that flattery, that assurance that I was special and not just different. It was easy for my family to say that, since they were just like me. To have a normal man say that to me...that made it real.
When I was eleven, a man broke into our house and killed my mother. Peter and I had been upstairs, we heard everything, but never saw it. You see, the police called it a burglary, even though the man who killed my mother never stole anything accept her life. He never came upstairs despite our screaming. He never even went past the hallway.
I didn't find out until later that my mother had been murdered because of me. Because DeVero wanted me that badly. He removed the only obstacle in his way, Selene Watson. A day after my mother was killed, Andrew came and took me away with him. That day, in the hospital waiting room, was the last time I ever saw my brother. He wasn't wanted, wasn't good enough, so he was sent somewhere else. I never knew.
All I knew was that any romantic ideas I had about a life with Andrew DeVero were shattered. Oh, he was always a charming man, but he was cruel and angry and vindictive. I begged, begged for weeks that he bring Peter to me. Promised him anything, promised him the world, if I could only get my brother back.
He held me to that. So I trained like a good little girl, for three years. When I was fourteen, he sent me on my first mission. To kill a Senator. If I did that, he promised I would get Peter. So, to my everlasting shame, I did it. I killed a man, when I was fourteen, and I never even knew why I did it.
But it didn't stop there. There were three after that. A Congressman, a business partner who was threatening to go public, and an investor who was trying to back out of a deal. I killed all four of them, easily even. I had been trained to be a killing machine, a good little weapon.
After the fourth one, I realized that no matter how many of these people I killed, he would never give Peter back to me. So I stopped begging, and he stopped promising, and I stopped killing. He told me to do it, so I would go to the house and rouse the people. Many of them didn't believe me when I said Andrew wanted them dead, most of them refused to go into hiding like I asked, but enough of them called the police when I threatened them that Andrew wouldn't send me to do the jobs anymore. If I got caught, it would get back to him behind it.
This was my plan, and he knew it, and he was furious. Let me tell you that I can take beatings. Physical pain isn't something anyone can get used to, but it is something a person can tolerate given enough practice. I got plenty of practice, and then some. It was just another part of my training. Oh, and he trained me good. The best martial artists, the best mutant trainers, the best tutors. I got the best money could buy.
It was just another thing to flatter himself with I think. Fill me with the best and flaunt me, his perfect little weapon. I was never far from his side, wherever he went. I was a kind of bodyguard. And he just wanted to keep an eye on me.
I did a lot of things to anger him when I was fourteen, mostly because I wanted him to get so fed up that he'd let me go. I should have known by then that he would never let me go, just tighten the reigns further. I was his, and I had to know that quite well. He kept a ship in my neck that controlled my powers, so that I could never use them without permission. He kept bars on my window, a camera going in my room at all times, armed guards always outside my locked door.
Still, I didn't want to admit that I was his. I never wanted to, even after the first time he held me down. Even after the first time he raped me. I wouldn't let it back me. Wounds to the body could heal, but I could never find Peter, never get away if I was dead.
So every time after that, that he came to my room at night, I would let my mind drift away until he was done. Then I would plan. Then I would gather my wits, and not let him see me broken.
It took me two years, but I finally found a way to beat him. And I finally got away. During one of my training sessions, I was able to remove the ship in the back of my neck with a knife point. With my powers, it was a simple thing to create an illusion of myself in my room as I picked the locks on my door and escaped past my two then-unconscious guards.
I had the chance to kill him, Andrew himself. We had been alone in the room a few moments before. It would have been so easy to just materialize a knife and plunge it into him. But I was scared, and hurting, and I didn't want to kill anyone else. Ever. Not even him, who so deserved it. And that is something I will regret the rest of my life.
I lived on the run for over a year before I came to the Institute. The life didn't suit me. I'm the kind of girl who likes to put down roots. I almost did that, in a small mutant community where I felt at home for the first time since my mother was killed. But I should have known better than to think that Andrew DeVero would simply let me get away. He sent people into the community, and they killed two people because of me. So I left, and vowed never to stay somewhere long enough to endanger anyone again.
That's why I had to leave you all. You're still training, not warriors yet. DeVero has more men and money at his fingertips than you can imagine. He wouldn't hesitate to kill you all just to get at me. I won't allow it.
So I'm gone.
I didn't tell you this for pity, or compassion, or even for understanding. I did it so you will know that I wanted to stay, but I just can't. No more blood will be on my hands. I am a coward, and I will keep running the rest of my life if I have to.
I'm sorry again, for everything I've done. Just tell everyone that I'll never forget them, and I'll miss them. And I love them.
All of my love, for always,
Parker Watson
Rogue dressed quickly, throwing on her usual outfit. Her mind was going a million miles a second, and even farther away. This was why Parker had been avoiding her the day before. This was why Parker couldn't look her in the face.
She knew that she would be leaving, and just didn't say anything.
Rogue thought it would hurt more, that the betrayal would consume her, would eat her up inside. It had, until she read the letter. Now it was just a dull ache, far outmatched by the repulsion she held for this Andrew DeVero and the sadness she held for her friend.
Parker wasn't a coward. She just saw things, felt things, that should never have been done to someone as kind as she was. Things had been done to her that should never have been done to any person. Life could be cruel, very, very cruel in fact. But, Parker had never seemed like she let the past rule her. Sure, she was a little frightened around guysRogue had noticed that after observing her for a while. And she did get a look to her eyes sometimes, like when she talked about sex or fighting. Most of the time...no one would ever guess what had happened to her.
Absently, Rogue ran a finger along one of the leaves of the plant Parker had left in her room. It was a pretty thing, have to be moved to the window ledge soon to get the sun. Something Parker had cared for a great deal.
You've been the best friend I've ever had, Rogue. And though I have no right, I ask you to forgive what I'm doing.
Parker's words. Words from a letter. Writing things down were always easier than saying them face to face. Rogue was an expert at knowing that, being a closet poet and songwriter.
A knock at her door made her snatch her hand back, as if she'd been doing something wrong, and whirl around. "Rogue," Ororo's voice called to her. "Are you ready?"
Rogue sent one last look at the plant on the table, and the wrinkled letter beside it. "Yeah," she called and left.
The two women climbed into one of the mansion's cars, buckled up for safety, and headed toward town. However, they didn't get past the front gate.
Parker's motorcycle blocked the path, still laying on it's side in the dirt, where it had been left when she was abducted.
The mansion was in an uproar for the rest of the day. Students paced, worried, argued, and were generally upset about the entire situation. Ororo and Mr. McCoy attempted to keep the peace as best they could, but their nerves were just as frazzled as the students. It was unheard of that one of their number to be taken, so close to home, without anyone realizing it.
Even if she had been planning to leave on her own.
Rogue had no doubt about who had taken Parker. Neither did Kurt.
Everyone waited on Xavier, who had descended into Cerebro hours before in search of Parker's signature. Finally, when he reappeared, everyone fell to the first silence of the day. They moved into the library, the site of most household conversations.
"Did you find her?" Kitty asked.
"No," he said seriously. His expression was troubled. As if he couldn't understand why he couldn't find her. Xavier knew Parker's signature inside and out, after using her as a focus to look for Peter for the last weeks. He would have been able to pick her out easily. But there was no trace. Nothing. She was just...gone.
"It's the inhibitor chip," Rogue said quietly, so that only those nearby her could hear. Then she stood up so that Xavier could see and hear her. "It's her foster father. He uses some kinda chip, to control her powers. He's the one who took her, Ah know it."
"Rogue's right," Kurt agreed. "He's been looking for her, since she ran away."
Xavier's expression darkened, but he kept his opinions to himself. "Very well, we'll start by looking for him. What's his name?"
Rogue and Kurt opened their mouths, but someone beat them to the punch.
"DeVero. Andrew DeVero."
Everyone in the library whirled to the doorway. Logan was leaning against the frame, a helmet in his hands, but his eyes were trained on the person who had come with him. This young man was tall, lean and not very intimidating if you caught a glance of him from the corner of your eye. He was dressed all in black, from his leather jacket to his torn jeans. His hair was dyed brown, but the roots betrayed his natural flaxen coloring. The look in his yellow eyes was cold, and the expression on his face read murder.
Peter Watson had finally been found.
"You're Peter," Kitty exclaimed. "Parker's brother!"
"Where is she?" Peter asked. There was a Midwestern lit in his voice, something that was lacking in Parker from her years of conditioning. Peter's cat-like eyes flew over all the faces in the room, taking them all in. "He took her, didn't he?"
"That's what we suspect," Xavier told him calmly. "But we have no evidence."
"He wouldn't leave any," Peter said icily. His hands fisted and his entire body tensed. "He never does." After a few calming breaths, he looked toward Xavier. "You're Charles Xavier, aren't you?"
"And you're Peter Watson," the professor confirmed. "Your sister has been looking for you, for quite a while."
"I've been looking for her too," Peter said solemnly. "Since that bastard took her from me."
"Do you have any idea where they might have taken her?"
Peter lowered his head, thinking. His eyes closed, but they moved under his lids, as if he were reading something from in his brain. "DeVero owns a lot of property, all over the country. He frequents the estates in the Midwest and near the Rockies, the most. Especially a large chunk of mountain land in Montana. Reclusive, far from anywhere else. Perfect to keep a little girl prisoner from the world." He looked up, eyes unfocused. "That would be our best bet."
"Then we'll start there," Xavier stated.
"I think this is the time for everyone to suit up," Logan commented, standing up and moving into the hallway. "It's a few hours' flight to Montana."
Everyone made a hasty retreat to their rooms to change into their uniforms. This was a mission unlike what they were sued to. This was something that had happened to one of their own, and they would fight to get her back.
Only Rogue lingered in the library, holding back to talk with Peter. He watched her with a kind of quizzical expression that she had seen Parker where a million times. They really were twins. It was written in their faces, and not just the eyes of the hair or the features, it was the same presence they both had. Kind and crazy.
"You must have been her friend," Peter commented with a sad smile.
"What makes ya say that?"
"Her scent is all over you." He leaned a little closer, taking a small whiff from the air, making Rogue retreat a step. She wasn't into being sniffed by a stranger. Peter laughed a little. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you."
"Ah'm not keen on bein' inhaled," Rogue commented.
"It's a cat thing," Peter shrugged. "I'm more feral than Parker. She got the mind powers, I got the physical powers."
"Like what?"
Peter ran a hand through his hair. "Stronger, faster, better senses. Stuff like that. I also have a photographic memory, which comes in handy. I read everything I can find on DeVero, to try and find my sister." He looked at her more closely, making her fidget slightly. "I'm sorry," he apologized after seeing her discomfort. "I can just...see her around you."
Rogue furrowed her brow and he shrugged again. "Another of my little tricks. I can see aura left behind from a person, on other people and things. Parker's is on you. It's the closest I've come to her in six years."
Rogue empathized. "We'll find her," she assured him.
He smiled. "I'll be there to see her for myself." Peter arched his back, feeling it crack, then headed out the doorway. "I haven't looked this long to let someone else get the glory of rescuing my little sister."
"She...she wanted me ta tell ya somethin'," Rogue said suddenly, following. "If ya got here afta she was gone. It was in her letter."
"What did she say?" Peter asked, turning his head to meet the green gaze of the young mutant.
"That she loves ya, and that if she don't see ya 'fore the end, that she'll be waitin' with yer Mom."
Peter grinned suddenly, shaking his head. "That's Parker for you," he said, though the pain in his eyes was almost more than Rogue could take. "Always expecting the worst."
When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that I was on my back, on a bed. There was mattress beneath me and a blanket over me. For a few seconds, I let my mind rationalize that DeVero and his chip had been a dream. A nightmare I had while I slept, safely and securely, at the mansion.
But the smell was different.
That god-awful, familiar scent. Sulfur. Hot springs water from the baths across the house. The smell that clung to everything in the house. I was back in hell. I didn't need to open my eyes to know it. I just felt it in the pain on the back of my neck, in the air, in my soul. Inside I cried a little, feeling myself begin to break.
I opened my eyes and was relieved to find myself alone.
When I sat up, I realized that someone had undressed me, and put me into another set of clothes. Gone was my ultra warm blue sweatshirt that still smelled like Kurt. Gone were my jeans and boots. Gone was the borrowed hair tie I stole from Kitty.
I was wearing a dress now. Black lace over blood red, long and loose and flowing. The dress I wore the night I ran away, when I was being locked in my room after escorting Andrew DeVero to a ball at the Governor's house. The dress he had had specifically tailored for me, because he loved how my hair was brighter against dark, and how my eyes were more gold when I wore red.
My entire body began trembling. And it only worsened when the door opened and the devil walked in.
He was still handsome. Devastatingly so. And he was young, not even forty. He was dressed all in white, making his black hair seem darker, as well as his super dark eyes. There was a smile on his face, of pride and smugness. He had me again, as he always said he would. Now and forever.
"Hello Parker, my sweet," he said in that silky voice.
"Hello Andrew," I breathed, hating myself for the fear in it. Hating him even more for causing it.
"You look beautiful, as you always do." He sat beside me on the bed, running a finger over the lacy satin of my dress.
"I didn't know you made more than one of these," I commented, thinking about something beside the fact that his hand was just a layer of material away from my thigh. "I would have shredded them before I left."
His hand shot out, grabbing my chin and yanking me toward his face. "You got away from me, for a little while, but that's not going to happen again. Not if you want me to leave that silly little school alone."
I resisted the urge to spit in his face, to bite his fingers. "You can't touch Xavier. He's beyond you."
"Nothing is beyond me," he said easily, letting go of my face as he stood again. "And if I can't go after him directly, there are always his little mutants." At my intake of breath, he grinned and looked toward me again. "Let's see, there's a little soccer player. Quite pretty, and a good power. Always liked telekinesis. But then, there's that tasty little morsel who can walk through matter. Could make a good weapon out of her. Or maybe I should go after the German boy who can just appear and disappear from a crime scene."
"You won't touch them!" I screamed, leaping at him, wanting to draw blood. We struggled, me overpowering him for a few seconds, but then the guards rushed in from the sound and hand me back by the arms. "I'll kill you if you touch them, I swear to everything holy. I will kill you!"
Andrew DeVero, whose soul was as black ebony, roared with laughter. "That's my girl," he told me, eye gleaming with triumph and lust. "Just remember. If you disobey me again, they will be the ones who pay."
With that, he left. The guards hit me a few times, until my lip was bloodied and my ribs were bruised, then they too left. Left me alone, in my cell, with nothing but my grief and guilt and pain. It was one of the few times in my life where I wished I could just kill myself and be done with it.
Instead, I sobbed into my pillow.
A/N: Depressing, yes. Excitement mounting, definitely. Only a few more chapters (two I think) and we'll be done. Remember to review, it keeps me humble!
