I do not own X-Men: Days of Future Past.
Two weeks 'til DVD release though!
The Story Left Untold
Chapter 2: Reality Slipped Askew
And Raven of course rose to the occasion. Fueled as always by her own personal woes.
"You think they need a reason?" she asked her once mutant brother, her voice rising slightly. "Do you honestly think they'll ever able to see me like this . . ."
She suddenly morphed into her natural blue form and Hank once again was caught unprepared and unawares.
Oop and she's naked again.
Logan apparently was used to seeing her this way. He was the only one who didn't flinch and look away. Charles reflexively shook his head, waved his hand, and averted his gaze in embarrassment.
And Hank attempted to become one with the paneling again.
While Raven continued her verbal onslaught.
" . . . and feel anything but fear?"
Well, I feel something other than fear. But I'd rather not talk about it. If it's all the same to you.
He remembered when he used to recite unusual and complicated words to control his bodily reactions. That Hank would have never survived this reveal. He would have simply faceplanted the floor.
"You can't even look at me," she challenged the long haired, paisley-shirted man.
Well, I can. But I'm trying not to. Honest.
"That is not true," Charles insisted, bravely gazing straight at her.
From the neck up.
Then she morphed back . . .
Oh thank science, Hank thought and felt an instant surge of guilt at the betrayal.
. . . into her human form and continued her entreaty.
And her words rang true in Hank's ears.
As much as he wished he could deny otherwise.
"I can hide like you," she explained sincerely to Charles. "But what about the ones who can't?"
Them. Yes. The vulnerable. The lost. The exposed.
She exposed her true form when she could. Chose to embrace it. Because it was hers. And as a tribute, an honor, a reaching out, to those who couldn't hide.
Mutant and proud.
Hank understood her reasoning now.
And he found it very brave and principled.
And distracting.
"I saw them in Vietnam. It's hard to hide your powers when you're getting shot at."
He thought of Alex. Was he okay?
". . . and the ones who couldn't hide became lab rats for Trask."
Raven plucked at Hank's laboring heart, made it burn and weep.
And Charles Xavier, the heroic gentleman, swooped in to save the day.
"I will never let that happen to you," he insisted, leaning forward.
Hank nearly reached out and smacked the man upside his tangled brown head.
Charles, you self-serving idiot, she's talking about something bigger than herself here! Aren't you listening? She's being self-sacrificial. Noble.
Hank remembered a time when he was the one set upon. By Alex.
And Raven, beautiful, young Raven was the only one who had come to his rescue.
And here she was, openly admitting she was doing it again.
On a much grander scale. To more needy mutants than would ever know she existed.
And with much more grim and inescapable consequences.
But the once wise Professor Charles Xavier couldn't see past his own nose and turned the conversation once more toward himself. Verbalizing his regret of his own personal failings to her.
Thank you, martyr Chuck. Oh shut up, won't you?
Hank allowed himself to look upon Raven.
He was swept away by renewed compassion and renewed understanding.
Renewed respect.
Renewed love.
Though he didn't want to.
And he did.
He was dimly aware his chest was slowly heaving, that he was struggling to contain all his roiling emotions, feeling his insides swell to bursting.
To make things different. Oh, if only I could make things different for you. Even if it didn't involve me. I would. I swear I would. But then, you wouldn't be the amazing creature you are now. Willing to sacrifice yourself and so many others for the good of the entire world.
And Charles, poor, blinded, serum-hungry Charles then spoke pitifully of her leaving home. As if she were a child. Or a beloved canine companion run off.
But Raven, wise Raven.
She knew better.
She shrugged and spoke again, almost tenderly. Softening to the man who had loved her so and had first accepted her, given her a home.
"I couldn't stay here forever, Charles."
From the corner of his eye, Hank saw the telepath casually raise his right hand to his temple.
No, no, no! Don't do that! She doesn't want that! You're going to drive her away, you idiot!
And Raven slammed the table with her fist in anger and leapt to her feet.
"That's why!" she spat, her gentleness evaporated and her fire returned full force.
Hank sighed again internally.
Way to go, jackass.
Charles immediately crumpled. Pleading, begging, apologizing, groveling.
But Raven, like Hank, was all done with the man's self-absorbed idiocy.
I'm about to come with you, Raven. I swear to science I am. But . . . no killing, okay? No, probably wouldn't work, huh?
As she stood near the stairs, deflating her mutant brother's sniveling petitions, Hank momentarily lost himself in her beauty.
The flowing blond hair. The sky blue eyes, wounded, so often wounded. The long sleeved half shirt, revealing an incredibly tight and toned physique. The long, strong thighs and calves draped in faded denim. Even her shoes, once used as metaphor for this perfect body on display . . .
". . . war," he caught her words and drew himself out of his reveries.
"How do you know?" he queried despite himself.
She looked directly at him, as though he might be the last sensible person left in the world.
He stalwartly held her gaze. It took all of his strength, but he did it.
"Because he told me," she replied simply.
Oh. Well. Okay then. Fantastic.
And then she moved.
And he saw the masked pain in her limp.
Charles did too.
But it was Hank who spoke actual comprehensible words.
"When was the last time you changed your bandage?"
She stopped and looked at him unresponsively.
She was alone.
No one to care. Or so she thought.
Thought that what happened to her no longer mattered.
She had sacrificed her importance completely for the presumed good of others.
But he could see.
"On your leg?" he expounded.
Reaching out from the inside. Just a little. Though he held still on the outside.
She gazed at him, mute.
For once.
Giving Charles the perfect opportunity to speak up with all the authority of a controlling big brother.
"Hank is going to see to your leg," he announced with finality.
Uh, no. Charles? Shut up. I asked. I didn't volunteer.
"Uh, I don't . . ."
He started to protest but Charles was an unstoppable blathering force on wheels. Literally.
Pouncing on the idea of helping her. To help her, yes, no doubt about that. But also as a way to keep her here. Under his roof. Under control.
Shut up, you fool, you're going to drive her away again!
"Hank," Charles reasserted, glancing dismissively at Hank now caught floundering in his verbal trap. "Yes, you are."
I'm not your dancing monkey boy, Chuck.
And Hank looked to Raven, alarmed, almost trying to relay a silent apology.
Though a hidden part of him desperately wanted to stay in her presence just a little while longer.
And was absolutely terrified by the notion.
Then Charles the idiot called her 'my girl' which prompted Raven's rejection which prompted Charles to ignore it completely and offer her untouched room to her as if she'd never spoken at all.
Oh Charles, you serum-head, you really are stupid. I am so embarrassed and ashamed. At least I am hiding my idiocy. Barely. You're just throwing yours everywhere like a simian with his feces, aren't you?
And then Charles turned himself onto Hank.
"Hank, go."
Hank tried to refuse again.
"Charles, I don't . . ."
. . . want to . . .
. . . think she wants me to . . .
Why are we suddenly being treated like misbehaving, defiant children in your eyes? I'm a big, blue beast for crying out loud.
And then Charles completely shamed Hank even further by throwing him under the bus of desperate longing.
Aloud.
Quietly, but aloud.
"Go on, you know you want to."
Didn't even have to read my mind for that little nugget, did you, you son of a –
Grrr . . .
Yes, I know it's that obvious, thank you. Look at the miserable hidden compassion on Logan's hairy face over there. The point is, my dear Beastie, did he have to say it out loud? Telepathic little freak . . .
And as Hank was struggling to contain yet another emotional crisis, Raven spoke again.
This time to Charles.
"I don't blame Erik for trying to kill me."
Wthf? I do.
"I would have done the same thing," she replied darkly.
And headed up the stairs.
She really would have. Wow.
And I would too. If I was like her.
But I'm not.
I'm only me.
Charles, holding mulishly fast to that which he had committed himself and Hank, spoke one final directive.
"Go on, Hank."
And so for lack of a better contingency plan, Hank gave up and did.
I once heard James McAvoy say 'I'm not your dancing monkey boy, pal' with a grin in an interview. So I had to put it here. 'Cause I love it!
Well, that concludes Hank's part in the deleted scene. There is a bit more with Charles and Logan. I'll address that in another fic. Of sorts.
But you know me. I can never leave well enough alone, can I?
So be ready for some Hank/Raven interaction. All me, not a deleted scene (that I know of) but I can't bear to wait for the DVD to discover what actually happens! That's like, days away!
Thanks to brigid1318 (and your sublimeness - it's a word now, shut up!) for revewing and thanks to MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul for adding your support. :)
My sincerest condolences to angeleye02 on your loss and I hope that you are being to heal, sweetie. ;_;
Also, not really sure why you are encouraging me to curse, but I cursed in this one if it makes you happy.
