Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men Evolution. If I did, I'd finance for tons of new episodes.
Author's Notes: This is written from Scott's perspective (although I'm sure you would have picked up on that while reading), and takes place from where the show left off (after Rogue's powers freak out, and the X-Men and Acolytes do battle with that big spider).
So...enjoy. That's the point of this.
-----------------------------
Teetering
Chapter One
"So...how are you doing?"
"Fahne."
"How are you feeling?"
"What is this? Yah gettin' all touchy-feely with meh, now?"
"Just answer the question."
If this were any other girl, she would have stuck her tongue out on me.
"Empty," she said after a lengthy pause.
A unique response, but one not uncommon with this decidedly unique girl.
I nodded in reply - what more could I say?
When I didn't say anything, her expression changed, and she retreated further into her shell, growing more standoffish. She didn't have to speak for me to know she wanted to be alone - her body language spoke it in volumes.
I sighed and leaned backwards in my chair, pushing my glasses back up the ridge of my nose, eyes on her all the while.
She looked away, obviously uncomfortable with the way I was looking at her...watching her...
How would she react if she knew I was drinking in her beauty with my eyes? That was one of the few advantages of being chained behind protective eye wear - anonymity.
She was beauty personified, the living embodiment of Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. A lily in winter, she was a light shining in the blackest of nights, which was contradictory to her attitude and demeanor, and choice of attire.
Yes, I think it's fair to say that I was more than infatuated with her.
I watched her slip back from sitting up to laying back down, a lock of hair, with part of that strange white streak in it, dangling in front of her eyes.
She looked at me for a moment, looking straight into my eyes (it was almost as if she could see through the glasses), before rolling over onto her side.
The skin on her cheek darkened somewhat, piercing through the layers of makeup she wore. Even if everything was bathed in red, I could see she was blushing, and so I knew now was the time to excuse myself.
"I'll be back by a little later, okay?"
She didn't reply.
I leaned in and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently in response to her body suddenly growing very stiff. Even though the drab gown she wore was plenty to protect me from her poisonous skin, it was always her natural reaction to physical contact that she didn't initiate.
"Remember, I'm here for you if you need me. I'll always be here for you, Kate."
The corner of her mouth quirked upwards, and I beamed on the inside.
I had sort of given her that unofficial nickname ever since we had been given that assignment in English class so very long ago.
I said it rarely, not wanting to make it lose it's feeling, it's importance, it's true meaning.
It always seemed to make her feel better...maybe for the lines in the play that the name was derived from...maybe because she was always pleasantly surprised to know that I remembered...or maybe just because it was something that we shared together.
I had been making a serious effort to try and connect with her, ever since that fateful night. That was why she said she had felt so empty - after having the memories of so many people taking up so much space in your head that you were beginning to forget yourself was something hard to deal with, and the chaos that ensued as they fought for control of her was even harder, and then the crushing feeling of loneliness that set in after they were all wiped away.
And on top of all that, learning that the woman who raised you as an infant was really a ruthless, cold, calculating killer was never something that could be taken lightly, no matter how strong of a person you were.
But no matter how hard I tried, she was always apprehensive about talking to me. Or to anyone. Except maybe the Professor or Logan.
It's hard, because I want to help her so very much, if only she'd let me.
I think it's even worse on Kurt. When he found out Mystique was his mother, it hit him real hard. If anyone can sympathize, and more importantly, empathize with her, it's him. If she was taking it hard that the woman was her adopted mother, it's only magnified ten-fold on Kurt, since she is his biological mother, and the person responsible for his appearance.
Kurt's constant cheerful mood was something that always amazed me, with all of the hardships he's faced in his life. Even if it's really just a way for him to block away the painful memories, it's still something that amazes me to no end, and I respect him so highly for it.
But I'm breaking off into another tangent altogether.
When Kurt found out the truth, Rogue was probably his biggest pillar of support. As much as the rest of us tried, no one could reach him quite like she could. I think it was because of the memories she had absorbed...she could share in the sentiment better than anyone else.
But when we all found out that Kurt was her step-brother...half-brother...I'm not quite sure what it is, exactly. I'm a little confused by it. But...she seems to be pushing him away, and it's always easy to tell when he's just come from a fresh bout of talking to Rogue. He looks like a sad kitten, with his tail drooping and his ears pulled back. He goes into his room and he won't come back out for a while.
Which is why I try so hard, I suppose. Maybe I'm just delusional, thinking that I, over anyone, could reach her.
Yeah...I'm delusional.
Hell, who am I kidding? I do it because I...well...I think 'love' might be too strong of a word, but I care for her. Very much.
We've got more in common than she realizes, more than anyone realizes, for that matter.
We lost our families, and come to find new ones.
We both lack control over our abilities, but I know that can change for her. I hope to God or whomever is out there that it's so. She deserves so much more.
But I'm getting off track again. I tend to do that when I'm not paying attention. Or when I try to justify liking Rogue, and not feeling the same for Jean, the girl I've been pining over since the day I laid eyes on her.
I left Rogue behind in the infirmary, and walked down one of the multitudes of hallways inside the Institute, looking at a particularly nice view of the sun slowly setting behind the forest that provided a sort of natural barrier from the outside world.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake below my feet, and I leaned onto the wall for support. Windows rattled, trees outside began to shake, and the earth roared.
The tremor ended as quickly as it began, which meant only one thing: Avalanche.
I had been just as surprised as the others when Lance Alvers, Todd Tolansky, and Fred Dukes showed up at the mansion gates that morning. I think they would have torn down the metal barring their entrance if Logan hadn't been there to scare them into not doing so.
And for whatever reason, they were let inside, and went to speak with the Professor, and before I knew it, they were the newest residents of the Institute.
That was a week ago, and everyone is still trying to get used to the new living arrangements. I was just relieved to know that there were enough spare rooms for them to each get their own.
I recall, just yesterday, how Jean remarked over my relative calm about our new arrivals, since Lance was always glaring at me or throwing unwanted leers in Kitty's direction, and Fred was always glaring at Jean and I (when not competing against Kurt in contests to see who could eat more), and Todd...well, Todd had looked miserable since I first laid eyes on him, but from the morning they came to the mansion, wearing their ragged clothes and carrying little else, Todd just looked downright pathetic. He reminded me of a puppy that had just been kicked. He never spoke more than two words to anyone, and spent most of his time locked away in his room, or surprisingly, participating in Danger Room sessions, notably in the veritable gauntlets that Logan often runs for himself, the kind that give me and Mr. McCoy a run for our money.
Speaking of Mr. McCoy, our search for Mesmero and the third key has turned up nothing, or at least from what I've been told. The Professor said that he'd been keeping in close contact with Magneto, whom was engaging in his own search. The Professor suggested that the two of them pool their resources together so as to increase their chances for success, but Magneto declined, giving no reason why. I think he just wanted to find the third key himself, as some sort of vindication for destroying the spider.
And on top of all of that, we've all got to deal with the world fearing us, hating us. Sometimes it just seems so easy to stop doing the right thing, and take the easy road.
But I did that once.
I won't let myself do it again.
Another small earthquake shook the mansion again, this one even harder.
I grunted, annoyed at how my quiet day was quickly degenerating into yet another...I don't know how to describe it. Interesting? Exciting? Eventful?
Yeah. Eventful.
I straightened up a picture, recently slanted from the tremors, and headed off toward the epicenter.
Author's Notes: This is written from Scott's perspective (although I'm sure you would have picked up on that while reading), and takes place from where the show left off (after Rogue's powers freak out, and the X-Men and Acolytes do battle with that big spider).
So...enjoy. That's the point of this.
-----------------------------
Teetering
Chapter One
"So...how are you doing?"
"Fahne."
"How are you feeling?"
"What is this? Yah gettin' all touchy-feely with meh, now?"
"Just answer the question."
If this were any other girl, she would have stuck her tongue out on me.
"Empty," she said after a lengthy pause.
A unique response, but one not uncommon with this decidedly unique girl.
I nodded in reply - what more could I say?
When I didn't say anything, her expression changed, and she retreated further into her shell, growing more standoffish. She didn't have to speak for me to know she wanted to be alone - her body language spoke it in volumes.
I sighed and leaned backwards in my chair, pushing my glasses back up the ridge of my nose, eyes on her all the while.
She looked away, obviously uncomfortable with the way I was looking at her...watching her...
How would she react if she knew I was drinking in her beauty with my eyes? That was one of the few advantages of being chained behind protective eye wear - anonymity.
She was beauty personified, the living embodiment of Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. A lily in winter, she was a light shining in the blackest of nights, which was contradictory to her attitude and demeanor, and choice of attire.
Yes, I think it's fair to say that I was more than infatuated with her.
I watched her slip back from sitting up to laying back down, a lock of hair, with part of that strange white streak in it, dangling in front of her eyes.
She looked at me for a moment, looking straight into my eyes (it was almost as if she could see through the glasses), before rolling over onto her side.
The skin on her cheek darkened somewhat, piercing through the layers of makeup she wore. Even if everything was bathed in red, I could see she was blushing, and so I knew now was the time to excuse myself.
"I'll be back by a little later, okay?"
She didn't reply.
I leaned in and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently in response to her body suddenly growing very stiff. Even though the drab gown she wore was plenty to protect me from her poisonous skin, it was always her natural reaction to physical contact that she didn't initiate.
"Remember, I'm here for you if you need me. I'll always be here for you, Kate."
The corner of her mouth quirked upwards, and I beamed on the inside.
I had sort of given her that unofficial nickname ever since we had been given that assignment in English class so very long ago.
I said it rarely, not wanting to make it lose it's feeling, it's importance, it's true meaning.
It always seemed to make her feel better...maybe for the lines in the play that the name was derived from...maybe because she was always pleasantly surprised to know that I remembered...or maybe just because it was something that we shared together.
I had been making a serious effort to try and connect with her, ever since that fateful night. That was why she said she had felt so empty - after having the memories of so many people taking up so much space in your head that you were beginning to forget yourself was something hard to deal with, and the chaos that ensued as they fought for control of her was even harder, and then the crushing feeling of loneliness that set in after they were all wiped away.
And on top of all that, learning that the woman who raised you as an infant was really a ruthless, cold, calculating killer was never something that could be taken lightly, no matter how strong of a person you were.
But no matter how hard I tried, she was always apprehensive about talking to me. Or to anyone. Except maybe the Professor or Logan.
It's hard, because I want to help her so very much, if only she'd let me.
I think it's even worse on Kurt. When he found out Mystique was his mother, it hit him real hard. If anyone can sympathize, and more importantly, empathize with her, it's him. If she was taking it hard that the woman was her adopted mother, it's only magnified ten-fold on Kurt, since she is his biological mother, and the person responsible for his appearance.
Kurt's constant cheerful mood was something that always amazed me, with all of the hardships he's faced in his life. Even if it's really just a way for him to block away the painful memories, it's still something that amazes me to no end, and I respect him so highly for it.
But I'm breaking off into another tangent altogether.
When Kurt found out the truth, Rogue was probably his biggest pillar of support. As much as the rest of us tried, no one could reach him quite like she could. I think it was because of the memories she had absorbed...she could share in the sentiment better than anyone else.
But when we all found out that Kurt was her step-brother...half-brother...I'm not quite sure what it is, exactly. I'm a little confused by it. But...she seems to be pushing him away, and it's always easy to tell when he's just come from a fresh bout of talking to Rogue. He looks like a sad kitten, with his tail drooping and his ears pulled back. He goes into his room and he won't come back out for a while.
Which is why I try so hard, I suppose. Maybe I'm just delusional, thinking that I, over anyone, could reach her.
Yeah...I'm delusional.
Hell, who am I kidding? I do it because I...well...I think 'love' might be too strong of a word, but I care for her. Very much.
We've got more in common than she realizes, more than anyone realizes, for that matter.
We lost our families, and come to find new ones.
We both lack control over our abilities, but I know that can change for her. I hope to God or whomever is out there that it's so. She deserves so much more.
But I'm getting off track again. I tend to do that when I'm not paying attention. Or when I try to justify liking Rogue, and not feeling the same for Jean, the girl I've been pining over since the day I laid eyes on her.
I left Rogue behind in the infirmary, and walked down one of the multitudes of hallways inside the Institute, looking at a particularly nice view of the sun slowly setting behind the forest that provided a sort of natural barrier from the outside world.
Suddenly, the ground began to shake below my feet, and I leaned onto the wall for support. Windows rattled, trees outside began to shake, and the earth roared.
The tremor ended as quickly as it began, which meant only one thing: Avalanche.
I had been just as surprised as the others when Lance Alvers, Todd Tolansky, and Fred Dukes showed up at the mansion gates that morning. I think they would have torn down the metal barring their entrance if Logan hadn't been there to scare them into not doing so.
And for whatever reason, they were let inside, and went to speak with the Professor, and before I knew it, they were the newest residents of the Institute.
That was a week ago, and everyone is still trying to get used to the new living arrangements. I was just relieved to know that there were enough spare rooms for them to each get their own.
I recall, just yesterday, how Jean remarked over my relative calm about our new arrivals, since Lance was always glaring at me or throwing unwanted leers in Kitty's direction, and Fred was always glaring at Jean and I (when not competing against Kurt in contests to see who could eat more), and Todd...well, Todd had looked miserable since I first laid eyes on him, but from the morning they came to the mansion, wearing their ragged clothes and carrying little else, Todd just looked downright pathetic. He reminded me of a puppy that had just been kicked. He never spoke more than two words to anyone, and spent most of his time locked away in his room, or surprisingly, participating in Danger Room sessions, notably in the veritable gauntlets that Logan often runs for himself, the kind that give me and Mr. McCoy a run for our money.
Speaking of Mr. McCoy, our search for Mesmero and the third key has turned up nothing, or at least from what I've been told. The Professor said that he'd been keeping in close contact with Magneto, whom was engaging in his own search. The Professor suggested that the two of them pool their resources together so as to increase their chances for success, but Magneto declined, giving no reason why. I think he just wanted to find the third key himself, as some sort of vindication for destroying the spider.
And on top of all of that, we've all got to deal with the world fearing us, hating us. Sometimes it just seems so easy to stop doing the right thing, and take the easy road.
But I did that once.
I won't let myself do it again.
Another small earthquake shook the mansion again, this one even harder.
I grunted, annoyed at how my quiet day was quickly degenerating into yet another...I don't know how to describe it. Interesting? Exciting? Eventful?
Yeah. Eventful.
I straightened up a picture, recently slanted from the tremors, and headed off toward the epicenter.