Colliding Synergy

"When I talk to people in need, they tell me they want to hope; they are eager for opportunity; they are ready for better days. And I can tell you that every time their hopes are disappointed, all nations lose." - Abdallah II

There's just a point in your life when you just -

Stop.

You stop trying, you stop caring, and, to a degree, you stop living altogether. No matter what you do, you fail. You try to stand and you're simply struck back down again. And again, and again. You try to speak up and you're immediately silenced. You feel like there isn't anything you can do. It's hopeless, you tell yourself. It'd be better if I didn't care at all, you try to convince your mind, your heart. Your conscious, once loud and proud, helping you dictate whatever it is you needed to do, reduced to the small and meager sound of a common mouse, scurrying around in the back of your mind. You tell yourself there isn't anything you can do, and, eventually, you start to believe it.

As it neared 1974, I had done just that. It wasn't a sudden decision, but occurred gradually since I left the mansion and my brother's corpse behind. I tried my damnedest to keep going, to find a reason to fight, there just wasn't one. I lost Collin due to complications with his amputated leg in 1967, lost Devin to the war a year later, lost what little humanity I had left soon after that, and I almost lost Raven to madman seeking to wipe out the mutant race. That's the reason I found to keep fighting. To save the last good thing in my life.

I was approached in early January by one James Howlett, a mutant with the innate ability to force out three long bones in his arms through his hands, effectively making a pair of claws about eight inches long, to save Raven. To stop her from killing a man that deserved to be dead and prevent his company and the government from acquiring the one thing that could bring about the extinction of the mutant race. A machine that adapts to defeat whatever they're faced with paired with the ability to sniff out the anomaly in our genetic code. They could sense mutants and obliterate them.

And, oddly enough, I didn't care about that at all. All I cared about was saving Raven from the torture that would eventually produce the mechanics behind the "Sentinels". I'd already went through something similar, and that's something I wouldn't wish unto anyone. Not even assholes that deserved it. Inhumane experimentation is never worth the cost. Look at what it did to Gabe. He wasn't fixable and I didn't want to watch Raven turn into that as well. That beautiful smile, replaced with a look that makes everyone aware to how much she'd been through, her warm affections, turned cold by the pain she was forced to endure. Never. Never. Raven would never experience that if I could help it.

James, or Logan, as he liked to be called, managed to convince me to join him with only a few words. I don't think he knew about my affinity for Raven, nor did he need to. I didn't want him prying around in my private life, though there was a need for it. Especially when he said that he'd be going to fetch Charles next. To say that I almost evacuated the vehicle while it was still in motion is not an understatement. I almost kicked out the door halfway down the interstate just to get away from him. Help Raven? Wonderful. Deal with that prick again? Never.

Eventually he calmed me down enough to convince me to go along with it. Apparently, in his future, or whatever, Charles (or I) neglected to mention our bloodied past. We weren't exactly friends, but we weren't hostile towards each other. I actually got along better with Erik in the future, according to him. You can't blame a girl for laughing, which I did. For about, five minutes. It'd been a long time since I laughed like that. I could never get along with Erik so long as he kept up that mutant supremacist attitude. At least, that's what I originally thought. But I wasn't going to believe it until I witnessed it with my own two eyes.

We drove to New York and I let Logan fill me in on what was happening in the future. Everything really starts going to shit in 2014 with the Sentinels, according to the rest of the world. He said that mutant life started going nuts 14 years before that. Starting with Erik attempting to turn every diplomat in America into a human mutate, like me. Yeah, that really made me want to be friends with the overly dramatic German. Then some asshole named Striker attempted to turn mutants into his little pet army, fun fun. He didn't elaborate further beyond that, the look on his face got a little pained so I assumed it wasn't a good topic.

"What happened between you and Charles? He said you were friends when he was young." Logan asked suddenly, giving me a bit of a side-sneer. I don't think he was actually sneering. That's just his face.

I shrugged, fiddling with a Cat's Cradle I'd kept with me as of late, helped distract me from what happened. "We were, for a while. Things change, I guess."

"I know a load of bullshit when I hear it." He continued with that dry tone of his.

"Because it's usually coming out of your own mouth?"

Now, most intelligent people wouldn't cross Logan, they really wouldn't. I don't think I meet the level of "intelligent" though, so this statement is mostly irrelevant. He's got this nasty glare that makes you question every little thing that bursts from your idiotic face. Well, maybe someone else. I legit didn't care.

"Sometimes." He admitted, not really offended or insulted by what I said. "Maybe it'd be more accurate to say that I know when there's more to a story than what you're saying."

I sighed, waving him off flippantly. "It was nothing, just a bit of deception, betrayal, murder. Charles and me? We're something straight out of a Shakespearean play."

He arched a brow at me. "Feel free to elaborate?"

I shook my head, returning to the Cradle. "Nope. Charles can tell you in the future if he wants."

"Alright by me." He finished, adjusting his sunglasses and shutting his trap until we showed up at the Palace.

While we drove, I got to think about how my whole life had changed. How much it truly sucked. And every time I almost forgot that, the universe kindly decided to remind me. Usually with a thorough kick to the face. With cleats. Who doesn't love the feeling of spikes embedding themselves into their face. If my stay in an unethical and borderline torturous research facility when I was just in grade school wasn't proof of how much my life blew, how about strangling the life out of my own baby brother? And now I have to save the present as well as the future.

Remind me to thank the universe sometimes around, well, never.