Chapter 12 – Evolving

The evening was growing cool, with a light breeze filtering through the trees, and the sun nearing the horizon. Orange and pink danced across the sky, while a golden glow fell over the beautiful estate. It was serene in my little clearing, with the memorial I subconsciously made for Darwin bathing in the sunlight like some kind of halo. I leaned forward to run my hand along the arch, appreciating the simplicity of the moment. In the facility, there wasn't much time to really enjoy moments to myself and cherish the newfound freedom; but, here, in the most open piece of land I'd ever experienced, I could just go for a five-minute walk and feel like I was transported to another world, where I didn't have to worry about anything anymore. In that kind of moment, I could pretend I was someone else, somewhere else, who had a loving family and a bright future ahead of them, not someone who could be working towards her early death.

"Hey," a deep voice said behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Alex standing nearby, his hands in his pockets and a sheepish smile on his face. "Do you mind if I sit?"

I returned his smile eagerly, glad to see that everyone was beginning to brighten up. "No, of course not."

"Thanks," he replied, lowering himself in front of the arch next to me. He sat with one leg crossed into him, the other bent at the knee, and he let his hand rest on the grass, picking at the strands. "So, I hear we're calling you Eve now?" he said, smirking a little.

I rolled my eyes, unable to stop myself from grinning. "Raven thinks that Evelyn sounds too much like an old lady's name."

Alex chuckled, shaking his head. "Because Raven's such a normal name for a young, human, woman."

I laughed with him, pulling the cuffs of my jumper sleeves over my hands before crossing my arms against the breeze. "She doesn't even have black hair."

"Or a beak," he grinned.

The waning sunlight falling on him made him look so otherworldly somehow, making his hair look like some kind of crown and his eyes, as always, gorgeous. It frustrated me that I was thinking about him in a different way than that of everyone else, constantly admiring his personality and his looks more than I felt I should. However, at the same time, I felt very lucky to be a witness of him, and it made me very glad that I wasn't someone else, somewhere else. Despite what I had been through, he – and the others, of course – made it all worth it.

I cleared my throat and looked away from him, wondering if I'd been staring. "Are you not cold?" I asked, forcing conversation to ease any awkwardness I may or may not have been imagining. He looked at his bare arms, having previously modified the thick, grey jumpers Charles had supplied us with. "Or were you more uncomfortable hiding your muscles for so long?"

He smirked at me, flexing obnoxiously. "How are people gonna know I'm so ripped when I've got this thing covering me up?"

I nodded, feigning reluctance. "I guess you've got a good point. They are all you've got going for you, after all."

"Exactly," he laughed, and I laughed with him, until a peaceful silence fell over us.

I brought my knees up to my chest and hugged them to me, gazing at the flower under the arch. I knew in my heart that this is where I belonged, and where I wanted to be, even if I was going to end up dying in our battle against Shaw. To want a life without my gift and without the gifted people around me was foolish and ungrateful; I was a part of something wonderful and, frankly, fucking awesome. I'd be an idiot to wish this all away.

"This is beautiful, by the way," Alex said gently, stirring me from my thoughts. I turned to see him looking sadly at the arch, his forehead creased in a frown. "Darwin would have loved it." He blinked a couple of times, as if coming out of a trance, and his jaw clenched as his gaze dropped to his shoes. "I know he was special to you," he said stiffly, "I'm sorry I took him away from you."

"Alex, don't," I said quickly, instinctively reaching to hold his wrist, "Please don't go down that path." He looked at my hand, as his clenched into a fist. "You tried to save and protect your friends. That's it. That's what you did that night. Everything else was done by someone else. By Shaw."

Turning away from me, he took his arm from my grasp and pushed himself to his feet. "Yeah, I tried, and I did a really shitty job of it." His fists were still clenched at his sides, his arm muscles stiff and tense, his head low.

I looked at the back of him, dismayed by his sudden change of mood. "You did more than the rest of us. You actually stood up to Shaw, you-"

"Yeah, but then he killed Darwin, right in front of me!" he snapped, spinning on his heel to look at me again. "What good was I then?"

I stood up with him, fixing him with an unwavering glare. I hated listening to people talk shit about my friends, especially my friends. "Alex," I began, quiet but stern, "I know what it is to feel powerless. To feel weak, and to not be able to do anything about it, to stop it." I took a couple of steps closer to him, begging him with my eyes to listen. "I know how easy it is to turn the blame on yourself in those situations, and I know how destructive that can be to your mind and your heart." I stepped closer again, taking one of his fists into my hands and stroking the skin under my thumbs. "Please don't do that to yourself. You don't deserve it."

He stared down at me, anger on his face and sorrow in his eyes. Slowly, his fist began to relax, and he turned it over, letting his fingers gently curl around my own hand. I watched the anger slowly dissipate, but there was still so much sadness and pain that was impossible to eradicate so quickly. It hurt me to the point that my own eyes watered until a stray tear slipped down my cheek. He lifted his other hand to wipe the tear away, the backs of his fingers tracing my cheekbone tenderly. Then, with a final, soft squeeze to my hand, and without a word of a reply, he removed himself from me and turned towards the mansion, walking away from me.

After the last glimpse of him disappeared behind the tree trunks, I turned to the arch once more, another tear escaping. The breeze caught the wet track, eliciting an even colder sensation. I looked down at the single, beautifully simplistic flower, and murmured, "Where are you, Darwin? You'd handle this so much better than I ever will."

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The next day, I sat at the kitchen table with Raven and Sean, enjoying a simple lunch. The normalcy of the situation, compared to where I'd spent the last few years of my life, was definitely not lost on me. "You know, this is the first time I've felt like an actual person in seven years. It's amazing what a change of scenery can do for you," I said, looking across the table at my friends.

"I know what you mean," Sean replied. "You guys are the first to actually recognise that I'm more than a weird, ginger kid. Its doing wonders for my self esteem."

I grinned at him. "The people I used to spend time with would spoon out your eyes if you stepped on their pet floor tile; don't worry, you're much better than them."

"I wonder what kind of person you'd be if you'd gone to high school, Eve," Raven mused, leaning her chin on her hand to observe me as if the answer was on my face.

"Definitely one of the popular kids," Sean scoffed.

"I was thinking that too," the blonde agreed, nodding, "But then what about her mutation? Would she have had more practice with it? Would it hold her back? Would she have run away?"

I frowned at them. "Why on Earth would I be a popular kid?"

"Because you're pretty," Raven said, smiling at my naivety, "And the pretty ones are always popular."

"I don't know, though, because Eve's actually nice," Sean countered, "And the popular kids that I knew were all assholes."

"True," Raven nodded, pointing her fork at him to emphasise her agreement.

"So, were you popular then, Raven?" I asked curiously.

"Why, because I'm an asshole?" she joked, feigning offence.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Of course not."

She smiled, a little reluctantly due to embarrassment. "No, I spent my time at school shadowing Charles everywhere. I even followed him to university when I wasn't even studying anything."

"Aww, Raven's a clingy, little baby," Sean cooed, trying to pinch her cheek as she swatted his hand away, scowling.

"Not anymore, thank you very much," she huffed, crossing her arms.

Suddenly a door slammed somewhere in the house, and after a moment Alex went storming past the kitchen, without even noticing us. I frowned in concern, wondering what the hell had happened with Charles in their practice. "Sean, have you talked to him at all?" I asked, turning back to the table.

"I've tried," he shrugged, looking down into his plate. "He doesn't want to talk about it, though."

"Poor guy," Raven muttered.

At the sound of more footsteps, we looked to the door again, wondering if the angry blonde would reappear, but instead it was Charles, looking a little drained. "Is he gonna be okay?" Sean asked.

Glancing at me for a moment, the telepath looked to the ginger and replied, "Yes, I think he will, in time. Hopefully helping him learn control will cheer him up."

"Are you ready, Charles?" Erik's voice sounded as he entered the room.

"Yes," the Englishman nodded, meeting my gaze again. "Eve, shall we see what you can do?"

"Sure," I smiled, waving goodbye to Raven and Sean as I followed the two men out of the room and down the halls.

"How did it go with Alex?" Erik asked quietly.

Charles sighed, hesitating. "There is progress to be made, but I'm confident he is capable of it."

When we got out onto the grass, Charles looked behind at me and slowed down to walk with me. "How are you, Eve? How are you handling things?"

The concern in his eyes and the seriousness of his tone suggested this wasn't a meaningless catch-up. "I'm doing better," I told him. "I miss Darwin a lot, but he wouldn't want us to be distracted, so I'm trying to look forward and concentrate on the mission for now."

"Good," Erik commented, "We don't need any more of you dying."

There was such a lack of emotion in his voice that I found myself rolling my eyes at him. "That was very sensitive, thank you," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

He looked over his shoulder at me, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, would you rather we braided each other's hair and cried into stuffed teddies?"

"Alright, Erik," Charles said sternly, effectively quietening the taller man.

We reached the tree line surrounding the massive garden and the men stopped, turning to look at me. "Right, Eve," Charles smiled, slipping his hands into his pockets, "How about you give us a demonstration for now?"

"Like what?" I asked, suddenly unsure of myself under the gaze of two powerful mutants who were completely unlimited, as far as I could tell.

"Just show us the extent of your mutation," he smiled. "Give us your best."

Sighing, I closed my eyes and tried to banish all of my insecurities before they distracted me. I took deep breaths, in and out, slow and calming, as I began my search for the pulse that was becoming so familiar to me. It was there, somewhere, just outside of my grasp, so I tried even harder to relax myself and clear my mind, pretending that I was sitting in my clearing, alone, without any pressure. The pulse grew stronger and my mind latched onto it, manipulating it into an image of a small tree. I could feel something growing, coming into being, but I stopped myself from reacting and kept at it until I felt that it was done. When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was a tall flower.

"Not what you were expecting?" Charles asked, seeing the confusion and frustration on my face.

I shook my head. "I was trying to make a small tree."

"Tell me your process," he said, "Tell me what goes on in your mind as you're doing this."

I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, embarrassed and ashamed. "Well, I try and calm myself down and clear my mind, and then I can feel this kind of pulse, and I use that while imagining what I want to make and then it gets made." I looked at the flower dejectedly. "Most of the time, anyway."

"Has this happened before?" Erik asked, gesturing at my creation.

I nodded. "When we were showing each other our mutations in the facility, I somehow managed to make some roots come up out of the ground, and I did it again when I made Darwin's memorial; but whenever I sit down and try again it doesn't work."

"I wonder if what happens is you concentrate on it too much," Charles mused. "What were you feeling when you made the roots come up in the facility?"

I frowned, catching on. "I was really nervous; I didn't know if I could make anything happen and I was worried that everyone would think less of me because of it. Darwin's memorial was an accident as well. It was almost subconsciously activated because I was upset."

Charles smiled. "I think from now on, instead of working to clear your mind, you should use the emotions you're feeling to fuel your creations, to really enable the process."

"What if I don't have a reason to be feeling a lot of emotion?" I asked.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Evelyn, I know it's not your favourite activity, but I think, at this moment in time, the best way I can help you is if I can see some of your memories."

My initial reaction was to go on the defensive, to run until I was out of his reach. But I stopped myself, admitting that I was opening up more because I had less to worry about, and maybe this would help me develop my mutation and become strong enough to fight against Shaw. I knew I needed to let him in. Exhaling heavily, feeling nervous beyond compare, I nodded. "Okay."

Charles seemed pleasantly surprised. "Thank you," he said genuinely, before lifting his fingers to his temple.

I felt exposed and vulnerable, but comforted at the same time, as memories were sifted through without my control. He brought up times when I lived with my parents, when I was dropped off at the asylum, several horrible experiences in the asylum – which I felt his clear disgust and anger towards – meeting him and Erik, meeting the others, meeting Alex especially, shouting at Charles, Erik, and Moira, and, finally, Darwin's death. When he retreated from my mind I realised that I'd felt a little claustrophobic, and now I felt like I could finally breathe again. Then I realised we both had tears falling down our faces.

"Wow," I muttered, wiping at my face quickly.

"You have come such a long way, Evelyn," Charles said softly, wiping his own tears away. "You've faced such horrors and misery, and yet you are – for lack of a better word – blooming here with us. You are far stronger than you are aware."

"Thanks," I murmured.

"Now, to answer your question," he said, his face returning to his normal, cheerful countenance, "You have a rich bank of emotions available at your fingertips; you need only look into your memories and embrace them."

"I'd really prefer not to be bringing up my past every time I want to use my mutation," I frowned. "It's not exactly an enjoyable experience."

"Once you get used to the process, it gets easier," Erik chimed in. "For years, my mutation has been driven by my emotions: rage; fear; despair. After a while of having to delve into your memories to experience your emotions again, you'll be able to conjure them without memories. They are ready and waiting within you, and you are capable of using them without the memories acting like a middle-man, you just need to practice."

"Why don't you try again?" Charles suggested, taking a few steps back. "Use your emotions to your advantage, but don't let them consume you or you'll lose control."

I nodded, licking my lips and rubbing my hands together. I told myself that I could do this, that I only failed before because I'd been going about the whole thing wrong. Pain, sorrow, fear, despair – they were my allies, my tools, and I didn't need to be afraid of them any longer.

Once again, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I let myself explore my memories. I thought of my parents, about how they refused to love me, about how they abandoned me in an asylum for the mentally ill when I in no way belonged there. I felt anger and hurt spread throughout my limbs like a fire, tensing my muscles. I thought of the doctors and guards in the asylum, my tiny, uncomfortable cell and the flimsy gown I always wore, and fear gripped me until I could feel my hands shaking. The pulse was growing and growing in my mind, to the point that I could almost feel the life of the nature around me coming out of the ground and climbing up my legs into my chest. I willed the pulse to move and grow stronger and create, and I swore I could feel it on my skin now, consuming me.

At that point I worried I'd lose myself, so I opened my eyes again to the realisation that I was breathing heavily, my forehead dampened with sweat. I looked first to Erik, who looked nothing but proud, and then to Charles, who was grinning widely and clapping for me. Feeling my skin tingle, I looked down and laughed out loud at the sight that greeted me. The roots of the tree closest to me had wormed their way through the soil beneath our feet, resurfaced around me, and had wrapped themselves around my arms and legs. Every so often a green leaf had sprouted, and little branches curved off to make it look as though I myself was a tree.

"Excellent job, Eve! That was absolutely wonderful!" Charles cheered.

Erik walked forward to pat my shoulder. "Not bad, Antheia," he smirked. "Not bad at all."