The human body is a miraculous contraption. Over the hundreds of years of evolution, the body has adapted itself to survive the harshest anger of nature and to thrive when it is compliant. For all their time, the human race has evolved to what it is today, still thriving up in the evolutionary ladder.
Like all the other times when all seems well and nothing will bar our way upward, something manifest itself. Sometimes, with the help of nature, and sometimes, with the help of Man. It is, essentially, our right of passage, our right to keep living on this green Earth. Most will die, and yet others will live.
And that which does not kill us, makes us stronger.
xXx
Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.
xXx
"...breaking the record high set in nineteen-seventy-five..."
Click
"...the whole state of New York continues to stay in the mid eighties for the week..."
Click
"...storm front coming in, should bring the rain I promised..."
Click
"Jubes!"
Jubilee stopped her cruising of the television and looked to her left at a frazzled Kitty. Jubilee wordlessly handed her the remote, for Kitty hardly raised her voice.
Kitty sighed and pushed her bangs out of her face before accepting the remote and turning it back to the weather station.
"The average temp will continue to be in the mid eighties for North Salem. A bit of precipitation is headed our way; hopefully that will cool things down a bit for us as the heat wave continues." The weatherman concluded, looking a bit shifty and uncertain.
"He promised us rain two weeks ago." Jubilee scoffed as she laid her head back and sighed, "Thank God we don't have training today."
Kitty nodded as she watched the weekly forecast replace the weatherman.
"That's what you two think." Logan said as he leaned against the doorway of the rec room. Both girls turned their attention to him.
"It's Sunday." Kitty said.
"Yeah, we always have Sundays off." Stated Jubilee.
"If you have a problem, talk to Storm." Logan said as he walked away.
Kitty looked at the screen before getting up off the couch. "I hope it's not outside." Jubilee said as she followed her friend.
x
Record highs were being broken left and right. It seemed the Earth was changing its' mind on which side of the hemisphere would be having a warm Christmas. Except, North America was the only continent that seemed to be suffering, for the capitals of Europe and most of Asia (excluding, of course, such countries as Taiwan and the like) were sitting anywhere in the mid thirties to the mid forties. Even Wellington, New Zealand, which happened to be around fifty-five, was much cooler than it was in North Salem.
It had been unusual weather for the last four months. The whole of New York had not seen a drop of rain since June. August hitting nearly into the triple digits while September rested in the mid eighties. October saw a drop in the temperature, the month being ruled by mid seventies, with the occasional day jumping into the early eighties. The last week cooled off to the high sixties. It would seem, at last, that the heat wave was passing.
Then the first week of November came. The first found itself at a docile temperature, leading everyone to think that the heat wave was passing by. But the second surprised everyone when the temperature reached a record ninety-nine in the span of a second. Literally. The sudden abrupt shift sent hundreds to the hospital. Thirty people had died that day just from the shock of such a dramatic shift. Of course, nowadays, when such a phenomenon occurs, vicious whispers rampage. However, the news placed the burden upon its' shoulders to play down the incident, citing a freak weather anomaly. It has been known to happen, they say. Which is true, he has seen it before in his long lifetime. But it is not likely. He didn't care though; it wasn't in his interest about the goings on of the mutant people. Not anymore.
Erik wiped a towel over his forehead as he sat on break outside. Eighty-five degrees outside and it was November the seventh. North Salem (and most of the United States) was suppose to be in tune with Europe, sinking into the lower forties instead of rising into the eighties the closer the New Year arrived. Today beat the record high in nineteen-seventy-five by thirteen degrees.
He wiped his face again as he let his head relax on the brick building of the family owned restaurant. It was his fifth day there. His bones were weary, his skin felt as if it were carrying lead in every pore and his eyes felt as if some invisible force was trying to slowly gauge them out. His feet were developing sores from having to help Sarah in her waitress duties the other day when Dolores had called in sick and Millie was off at a funeral. His back was stiff from that exercise.
Erik turned his head to the left and heard and felt his joints crack, a pain-filled reprieve from the pain of having his head bent while scrubbing dishes all day. He rubbed his hands; they were exceedingly dry, to the point where the skin would crack open any day now. His knees had been screaming for him to sit, he had been standing for so long. He didn't even care about his posture anymore; he just wanted to sag in his hard seat like a potato sack.
He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. The days when he could easily bend metal to his will were over, that he could move about as easily as a man in his prime, despite the fact that shortly after the cure was so graciously administered to him that he could still feel the echo of the metal. But it was no more. It had gone like the brief breeze he had been hoping to catch today to ease the sweat and heat from his body that the kitchen enforced upon him.
He hated that cure.
The door on his right busted open and out came the stumbling Sarah, in all of her infamous klutzy glory. Erik slowly raised his head to pin her with a tired stare.
She scratched the back of her head, an insecure cheesy grin on her face.
Bad news was abounding.
"Jose just..." she paused and made a gesture with her hand that indicated vomiting, "blughed, all over the kitchen."
A look of sympathy crossed her face as she said, "You need to cover for him."
Erik sighed as he slowly stood up, his joints cracking in places that he didn't know they could. He winced.
"I cleaned it up fer ya." Sarah said, a hint of a southern lilt in her voice as she held the door open for the mutant formally known as the Master of Magnetism.
"'M sorry." Sarah said after him as she bit her lip and followed him inside.
x
"You know Charles was limiting you."
A glower and a growl. Rogue narrowed her eyes at him. "Ah don't wanna hear it." She snapped.
Magnetos' face filled with hopeless, yet amused, exasperation as he leaned back to sit up straight. Barely containing the urge to roll his eyes as he sat next to her on the stone bench.
A lighter clicked open, and closed, occasionally being lighted before closing again. They all stared at the mansion in the distance.
"Could've been the most powerful mutant on the planet."
John snorted.
A sharp intake of breath could be heard before Rogue swiftly stood up and marched away. Magneto and John grinned.
"Ah hate those two." She mumbled as she nearly stumbled in her huffed rush to get away from them. She tried to ignore the laughter of John, ducking her flaming face from the burning sun.
"Hey kid." Came a strong voice.
Rogue only growled as she passed him.
Logan looked confused for a moment before following her, his strides much more smooth as he caught up with her.
"Hey." He grabbed her shoulder, causing her to turn violently around. Shock, bewilderment and realization dawned on her face as she stuttered, "Ah... Ah'm sorry Logan. Ah thought..." she looked behind him at the smug looking characters, taking a moment to pass them a loathing look.
Logan looked behind him, not seeing anything.
Rogue took a deep breath; "It's nothin' Logan. Ya wanted somethin'?" Rogue asked as she shoved her bare hands in her jean pockets, her head slightly tilted to the side.
Logan stared at her for a moment, his expression slightly dazed. He shook his head as if to shake it free and cleared his throat.
"About the other day." He said softly, looking almost as if he were a schoolboy asking a girl out.
Rogue pressed her lips together, her posture instantly stiffening.
"It's okay Logan. Besides, she was right. Ah have nothin' to offer to the team." Rogue said as her face screwed up in insecurity, looking away into oblivion, her southern accent heavily affecting her words.
"No, it's not." Logan said gruffly as his own back straightened.
Rogue looked back up at him before shifting her gaze once more. John and Magneto were gone. That always happened when Logan was around.
She took in a deep calming breath, her soul instantly soothing. She gave Logan a half-hearted smile, tucking a white lock behind her right ear. She shyly looked down at the ground.
Silence passed between, in which Logan kept gazing at Rogue with a look of curiosity.
It was broken as they both tried to say something at the same time. They looked at one another, Rogue with her face wrapped in insecurity, Logan with his gaze.
"Ah- Ah better be goin'. Papers to grade n all." Rogue said as she nodded her head, her lips pursing together. Her eyes shifted rapidly. She turned around and began to walk back to the mansion when Logans' voice stopped her.
She looked over her left shoulder.
"I'm gonna talk to Storm." He said in a matter of fact tone, his expression mixed with seriousness and something else Rogue couldn't identify.
She gave him a sad smile and a nod of the head before walking off.
Logan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sighing as he did so. He looked back at the stone bench, his eyes looking for any trace of something that might've caught her attention.
He found none.
A look of unease seemed to settle on his face for the briefest moment before he cast it aside and walked back to the garage. He had a class to teach.