The Power of Hope
Chapter Five
By: Lily Handle
Author's Note: Ha, who thought you'd be waiting forever for this chapter? We'll, you were wrong! And there is German in this chapter, and while I was a German student I haven't practiced the language in a while so there maybe mistakes. You think after four years I'd remember everything, but I can't believe all the things I forgot. Please read and review.
Michael Chandler rather disliked people, especially in large crowds, so when he woke up with a mass of news vans parked in his long mud driveway he counted the morning as a waste. Of course it also made him wonder why. Chandler Wheat was a small farm compared to the other farms in the area, so he reasoned it wasn't his business that brought them to his door. His powers were as benign as always, mellow. flowing through his mind mentioning to him that the farthest row of wheat was being eaten by locust. So it wasn't his powers that drew them to his front lawn. That left only one reason for the vans, something was going on back east. Being part of an old Southern upper class family had its drawbacks, one of them was you ranked as news worthy. He would have liked to take care of the locust problem right away, but the news vans needed to be taken care of first. Frankly he was pissed that he had to deal with them and took it out on the stairs as he stomped his way to the front door, buttoning a pair of jeans as he went.
Throwing the door open he fixed a glare on the reporters that made most people cower and growled, "Get off my property or I'm callin' the cops." Reporters however are a different breed of human being and didn't bat an eye. Instead they swarmed the front door.
"Mr. Chandler, can you tell us how you feel about what the MPD is doing to your sister?"
"How did you react to the news of your sister's arrest?"
"Is anyone else in your family a mutant?" Now Mike was confused. He had two sisters, and from what the reporters were shouting one of them was in trouble, but which one? And why hadn't his family called? You unplugged your phone, moron, his memory reminded him. Great, his father was going to kill him.
"Look, ya all got five minutes to get off my lawn and if you ain't gone by then, I'm callin' the cops." With that he slammed the door and marched to the office where the only phone in the whole farmhouse was. Reconnecting the line, he dialed home and waited for someone to answer.
"Chandler residence," Benson's smooth tone flowed over the line and Mike prepared himself.
"Hey, Benny, is Papa home?"
"He'll be back from Washington shortly, Young Master Chandler," Benson hated being called Benny, Mike couldn't resisted, but Benson got him back with the Young Master crack.
"Ah, you know if he's got his phone with him?" And why isn't he at work at this hour? What am I missing? Mike wondered.
"Of course, would you like me to forward your call to him?"
"Yeah, could you please?"
"Of course, sir." Mike sighed as the line went silent and then started ringing again. Please lord, don't let my Papa kill me, Mike prayed.
"Boy, you need to keep your phone line connected!!" His father thundered as soon as he answered, "Your Mama and I have been tryin' to call you for hours! Do you have any idea what's goin' on around here? Of course you don't, why? Because you're phone is disconnected. I got half a mind to smack you silly when you get here."
"Papa, are you done?" Mike asked carefully, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The lawn was angry because of everyone trampling it, dropping litter and cigarette butts on it. Those reporters really had to leave. The lawn's complaining was giving him a headache.
"Boy, don't you take that tone with me," His father growled.
"Which sister is in trouble?" Mike snapped, interrupting the start of his father's next tirade.
"Hope! Don't you watch the news down there, boy? The MPD has charged her with murder and they're goin' for the death penalty." His father kept ranting, mentioning the family jet was waiting for him, that he was in so much trouble when he got home and other threats of bodily harm. Mike ignored his father, he'd never lay a hand on him and instead stared at the front door. Hope had been arrested, the idea was just too outrageous for his mind to wrap around. Before the idea had a chance to sink in, he focused his attention back on his father's ranting.
"Skin you faster than a greased pig through a cannon!"
"Papa, I'll be home as soon as I can, you can explain everythin' to me then," He said, his voice hollow and numb.
"Your mama and I'll be waitin'." His father's voice went gentle, sensing Mike's distress. Even his father didn't understand the real reason why Mike was so upset at the news. He set the phone back in its cradle, leaned back in the chair and covered his face with his hands. The government was serious, deadly serious about mutants. If they would go as far as to charge Hope with murder, how far would they go next? He didn't plan on registering with the MPD, to put it bluntly he was still in the closet about his powers. Two people in the world knew about them, only one of them had anything on record. He reached for the phone with one hand while the other went digging in a desk drawer, looking for a half forgotten business card. He dialed the number printed on the card and cradled the phone between his shoulder, running the card through his fingers. It was a call he had thought he would never make.
"Mr. Xavier, it's Michael Chandler, is there a chance we could meet today?" He asked, mentally gritting his teeth. When Charles Xavier had first knocked on his door asking about Hope and his own abilities, Michael had thrown him out. Well, not literally, but he'd flatly refused to answer any questions the man asked once Mike understood what he wanted. Now he would have to ask for a favor.
"I'm free all afternoon, Mr. Chandler, will your family be joining us?"
"No, just me, and I know you'll probably think it's odd but don't tell them, or Hope, if you don't mind." The lawn was still muttering in the back of his head, reminding him to call the police once he was done with Xavier.
"If you don't mind me asking, why?"
"Personal issues, I'll be there as soon as I can." With that Mike hung up the phone, made one last phone call to the police and got up from the chair. He pushed every emotion back into the recesses of his mind, promising to deal with them later as he walked to the front door.
"Listen up!" He yelled to the reporters, "Your five minutes is up, I've called the police. Get the hell off my lawn, I got places to be!" He slammed the door and stomped back up the stairs to finish getting dressed and head off to Bayville.
Inside Charles Xavier's expansive office Michael tried his best to sit still. While the office was large, he still felt trapped. In his mind there wasn't enough natural air, enough sunlight and certainly not enough space for his liking. With his deep connection to plants he heard their needs and the plants in Xavier's office wanted him to fix their problems. He'd designed his life around plants after having to live in a world designed for people for so long it nearly drove him mad. His own farmhouse was designed around plants, their comfort, their needs and he lived happily inside the small jungle. The mansion was designed around people, and it had him itching to get outside. When Xavier entered the office, Mike got to his feet and crossed the room, offering a hand out to the man.
"Thank you for agreein' to see me, Mr. Xavier," He said, trying not to bark the words out.
"It's not a problem, Mr. Chandler," Xavier smiled, "If you prefer we could go outside."
"No, this will be quick." Then he would suffer through another plane ride to the Chandler Mansion, once there he'd recuperate in the gardens. "I don't know how you found out about my powers, but whatever records you have, I'd like them to be destroyed."
"I can assure you whatever records we have are secure."
"If the MPD can convince a grand jury to charge Hope with murder, they can convince a judge to sign a warrant for your records," Mike said flatly, "I am not registerin', the government doesn't know about me and my powers and they don't need to know. Your records and Hope's mind are the only ones that know about my powers and since Hope will never rat me out, the only other thin' I need to worry about are those records."
Xavier studied him intensely, making Mike grit his teeth, understanding that the man was reading his mind. "I can see you won't listen to any arguments I could make," Xavier said after a moment, "Very well then, Mr. Chandler, I'll destroy the records, but if you ever need a place to hide, we'll keep the door open for you."
New York lay sprawling below Hope. Through the large window in Murdock's office she watched the chaotic hustle and bustle. In her head she could hear the cacophonous racket of the streets and was grateful the office was sound proofed. Her time in lock-up and the courthouse had given her more than her daily douse of noise. After the arraignment she had been led to a small cell where she'd spent an hour chewing on her nails while waiting to be rescued. Maverick and Murdock had been the ones to finally get her out of that dreadful place. One the ride to the airport Murdock had offered her a choice, she could return to the Institute and work on her case there, or come to his office. She had chosen his office because the Institute would just be too hectic with the students around. Driving through Time Square, Hope watched her face appear on that giant Sony screen and it had sent another jolt through her. She was charged with murder, she was facing the death penalty, she was going to talk with her lawyer about her defense, what had happened to her life? At least this time the idea didn't make her pass out, thought it still made her head roll. She'd accepted that she needed to fight back, and was ready to fight. She'd start with today, helping Murdock, once he finished talking with his secretary. Hope turned away from the window, smiling at Maverick who was standing silently by the door. He tipped his head but stayed silent. It was a gesture that reminded Hope of Logan, in fact a lot of things about Maverick made Hope think of Logan. Didn't say much, looked like he could get hit by a brick wall and not flinch and just this sense of authority that he gave off, Maverick was a lot like Logan. Hope sighed to herself, itching at her wrist where a tick black band was strapped. The latest in tracking technology, it was the MPD's version of big brother. She hated it already and she'd had it on only for a few hours.
"Too tight?" Maverick asked, which startled Hope.
"No, just not use to wearing it," She said politely. She was still trying to figure out what one said to their bodyguard.
"Ah, kind of like when you buy a new watch, huh?"
"I never thought about it that way," But she was smiling, "Yes, I guess that's what it feels like."
"Give it some time, Doktor." They both looked towards the door when it opened and Murdock walked in. He had a stack of files in his arms and his secretary followed right behind him carrying a tray with three mugs on it.
"Sorry it took so long," He said, making his way towards his desk while the secretary put the tray on the coffee table. "Had to find some files."
"It's alright, Mr. Murdock, I'm thankful you've decided to take my case, so take all the time you need," Hope said, sitting in one of the chairs facing Murdock's desk.
"I believe we've been over this Doctor, it's not a problem. Now," Murdock sat down and fixed her with a look, "You understand the terms of the bail agreement, correct?"
"I'm not allowed to leave the country, must inform local authorities of my presence and if I break any law I'll be shuffled right off to jail," Hope sighed, "They seemed to think I was your traditional country bumpkin and needed everything explained three times."
"You're a first time offended, they're just being nice."
"No one in that facility was being nice," Hope muttered.
"True, you'll be treated differently from other offenders, but luckily the courts still look at you in the same light. We've got the first pretrial meeting in a week, then jury selection and then a trial date will be set. During that time we'll be working on your defense, what witnesses we want to call, etcetera."
"I thought the trial would be starting as soon as possible," Hope frowned, trying to remember what she had seen of court cases on t.v.
"Ah, well once all the pretrial matters are out of the way you'll be surprised how fast a case can go."
"I don't know much about the law or court proceedings but I'll try to help you anyway I can." Hope said sincerely.
Murdock smiled brightly, "That's all I ask, Doctor. First I know you understand the basics of the charges brought against you, but I want to go over what the prosecution is trying to prove and what I will have to prove. Like a traditional murder charge the prosecution has to show intent, that you meant to kill Mr. Trask."
"I didn't." Hope was familiar with the ball of guilt that formed whenever she thought about Trask, it came right along with dread and fear. Months had passed and still she found herself looking over her should and double checking all the lock on the doors and windows in her room. She was afraid of a dead man.
"Which is what I have to prove. I'm going to draw up a motion to drop the charges, on the basis there is no evidence of intent. If that fails, I'm going to try and suppress the video tape, on the basis it will prejudice the jury against you. I'll tell you honesty that because this case is so political and the law is so new that the judge will probably favor the prosecution."
"Doctor the chances of us winning this case are slim. I know you understand probably better than anyone here, that the public will ant to see you convicted and jailed. We're going for the heart strings, and the prosecution is going for the throat. They'll make the jury afraid of you, of your abilities and what you did to Mr. Trask. We have an up hill battle, but we have S.H.I.E.L.D.'s backing us and you've got a good record so the question for you is, Doctor are you ready for this?" Hope goggled at Murdock, that speech certainly wasn't motivation or uplifting. She could almost feel her freedom slipping through her fingers. She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide away until this whole thing was over. The judge was against her, the public and the case were against her, what chance did she have?
"You make some good points, Mr. Murdock, I don't really have a snowball's chance in hell, but there's always a chance hell could freeze over isn't there?" The words almost didn't make it past the lump in her throat. She was pretty sure if she unclasped her hands they'd shake harder then a dead leaf in the middle of a whippoorwill. Hope heard Maverick chuckle, at least someone found that funny.
"Very good, Doctor, shall we get started then?"
Maverick was silent, to the casual observer he would have looked to be millions of miles away. He wasn't. His whole mind was turning over the details as he listened to Dr. Chandler and Mr. Murdock talk law. He'd read the files, talked with Fury, but this brought it all together. Though he spent most of his time taken orders he'd been in the military long enough to know when politicians were blowing some hot air to impress the public. To him, it looked like they were burning Dr. Chandler at the stake and as fast as they could get the legal system to do it. Nothing sounded right to him. He'd need to talk with Logan as soon as he could.
"Doctor I have to ask you, think, hard, did you have any notes on your powers anywhere that may have hinted your powers were lethal?" Murdock asked, pressing the point hard. Maverick had heard him answer similar questions about seven times before. Maverick watched the doctor, just like Murdock waiting intently for an answer. She sat stiffly, not a single nerve in her relaxed. Her hands were clutched tightly together and she was staring straight at Murdock.
"Doctor?" Murdock asked, his tone shifting to concerned when she didn't answer after a minute. Maverick rose silently from his seat, something was wrong. "Doctor are you alright?"
A visible shudder rocked the doctor's small frame and she hugged herself tightly, "Sorry…sorry."
"It's alright Doctor," Murdock looked up at him, as if he sensed where Maverick was, "I think we should call it a day. You've had a hard time these past few days, we'll pick this up tomorrow, say ten?"
"Ten?" Dr. Chandler's tone was confused, as if she'd forgotten where she was for a moment, "Yes, yes, ten would be fine. Thank you, Mr. Murdock."
Maverick stepped up and put a hand on her shoulder, "Come on, Doctor, time to go." He recognized something was wrong with her and carefully guided her to her feet. She looked at him, her eyes distant. Poor girl, he thought, still trying to process it all aren't you? He helped her out of the office, into the elevator and keeping on eye on her he called the number Fury had given him for the Institute.
"Mr. Xavier," Maverick said, watching in concern when Dr. Chandler slumped against the wall and rubbed at her eyes, "This is Lieutenant David North, I've been assigned to protect Dr. Chandler."
"Yes, Colonel Fury mentioned you, is there a problem, Lieutenant?"
"Depends on your definition of a problem, sir. I think when we return to the Institute Dr. Chandler's going to need someone to watch out for her, and not a body guard, if you catch my drift."
"Ah, yes, I do. I'll have a friend meet her at the door when you get here." Maverick was grateful. Sure he liked Dr. Chandler so far, but being her shoulder to cry on was not part of his job description.
"Thank you, sir, we'll be back in a few hours."
"Don't worry, I'll know when you get here."
Hope felt lost. Completely and utterly lost. Listening to Mr. Murdock, answering his questions had brought hundreds of more questions to her mind. She was surprised by the swift kick of doubt every time she had to think about an answer. Then she questioned her own doubt. Why should she doubt what had happened? She'd lost control, everything was a terrible accident, why should she doubt anything she did? She had so many things swirling in her mind, dragging her one way, then twisting her in another. She needed time, lots of it, to work on all the questions that were flitting around in her mind. I don't have time, she thought, so little time now. When she lost track of the meeting with Murdock, she let Maverick take over. He steered her to a car, drove her back to the Institute and handed her off to Hank. He hugged her, so tight that Hope felt crushed.
"It'll be alright Hope, you'll see," He told her, taking her hand and cupping one cheek with his hand, "I won't let you go that easily." Hope blinked a little, confused even more by Hank's words. Let her go? What could he mean?
"Can I…can I just go to bed now? I need a…a break," She said numbly, thinking I don't need this right now, not on top of everything else.
"Of course," Hank, said sympathetically. He talked as he led her to her room, but Hope didn't listen. Why should she worry about the students when her life was going to be in the hands of twelve people she had never met before? People who didn't know her, didn't understand about what had happened? She blinked in surprise when she found herself standing in the middle of the small sitting room that was part of her room. Hank stood beside her, watching her with a sad smile on his face.
"Is there anything I can get you?" He asked, placing a hand on her arm.
"No, no thank you," She loved Hank, really she did, he was her brother, but she wanted to be alone now, "I'd like some time to…to think things over, if you don't mind."
Instantly his face softened even more, "No, take all the time you need. Just call if you need anything." Hope watched him leave, then crossed to the door and locked it. Confused, tired and angry Hope grabbed the nearest object, an expensive looking vase and threw it. It sailed all the way across the room, hit the wall and shattered with a satisfying crash. Hope felt better. Actually, she felt a hell of a lot better. So, she picked up one of her biggest medical text and threw that too. It didn't shatter like the vase, but it felt just as good. Another book, a lamp and a glass paper weight later she was in a full frenzy. Anything her hands touched went flying, until she stood in the middle of what looked like a war zone. Breathing hard, feeling a little dizzy she blinked. What had she done? Thrown one hell of a temper tantrum by the looks of it and what had it helped? Nothing, no one and nowhere as Grandma Chandler had always said. This wasn't what she should be doing, she yelled at herself. She should be looking through her notes; writing things down and thinking about those questions Murdock had asked her. She'd get right on that, she thought and them promptly dropped to her knees and broke down into tears.
Maverick watched the room carefully, studying each person as he went. Charles Xavier, wise father figure with incredible intelligence and more than a little ego. The only woman in the room, Ororo Munroe, was as silent as everyone else, but she had a calm and collected look about her. The blue beast-man, Hank McCoy had come in late, and from what Maverick had seen outside on the steps, he had something for Dr. Chandler. He had looked smitten, that was a good word for it. Problem there, since Maverick could see that Dr. Chandler looked at him like a brother. What really interested him was Logan. The man was frustrated, deeply annoyed and waiting for action. No one else would notice it, Logan hid his feelings well and seemed calm, but you go through a few life threatening and life changing events with someone and you get to know what to look for.
"Nothin' happened today Ricko?" Logan asked when he noticed Maverick watching him.
"Besides a rather depressing session with her lawyer and the doctor going shell shocked, no."
"Case looks grim?" McCoy asked, turning around to look at him.
"I shouldn't discuss it," Maverick said calmly, "Your questions should be directed to Mr. Murdock."
"Colonel Fury recommended you for this job, personally, high praise, sir," Monroe said, studying him.
"Actually, ma'am, my recommendation comes from another source," He grinned at Logan, "What, didn't tell them we've met before? I'm crushed."
"Shut it, Viking."
"You two know each other?" Monroe looked between them, "He's that Maverick?"
"The one and only, sadly enough," Logan was smiling though. Probably remembering the goods time, since the bad made them both shut up faster than the speed of light.
"Ah, I see," Charles Xavier smiled, "Old Army buddies, well, then you come with possibly the best recommendations one could have. We'll give you a room right next to Dr. Chandler's, Mr. Maverick."
"Danke," Maverick nodded once, "Though I'm sure she won't need any extra protection here." Suddenly the room froze as a loud crash split the air.
"That came from Hope's room," McCoy said, jumping to his feet.
"Hank," Charles said, stopping the man before he reached the door, "Leave her be. If there was a problem, the alarm would have gone off."
"But…"
"She's gotta work this thing out herself, McCoy," Logan said, sternly, "Give her time." Maverick watched the silent battle of wills like everyone else in the room. In the end McCoy left, but Maverick sensed that he wasn't going to the doctor's room. They all listened as the crashes and thuds continued until silence fell once again. He locked eyes with Logan's across the room and read an emotion he'd only seen there a few times before. Careful, mein blutsbruder, you'll let your emotions cloud your judgment, he thought. He could hear the answer in Logan's eyes, shut up Ricko, I know what I'm doing.
Author's Note: Wondering why Mike takes such a big part in this chapter? Well, one because I love my Mikey and don't get to write him that often and a lot of parts in this story will be written from the point of view the Chandler family members, as well as the students because it'll make things more interesting. Can you say Brotherhood cameo? But don't worry, your favorite Doctor will not be ignored! Of course I'm leaving Murdock's plan for Hope's defense a mystery too, that way the trial scenes aren't ruined before hand. I'm an evil author ain't I?