video . 9th transformation

[permutates]

[ private to anya, earlier ]

I heard that you were Magneto's daughter.

I guess I think you should know that I know.

[ public, later ]

[ The camera shows the teaching annexe, swings past a few doors and settles on a stretch of wall where - well, there's a door. And beyond is a place where something should probably be. Should definitely be, for anyone who knows the location of the ice rink. Instead, there's a block of blank concrete, behind the open door. ]

The rink is gone.

[ She's heard the voices, over the speakers. She sounds shaky. ]

What's happening?

Comments

private

[permutates]

[ You just did. This is a start. This is what starting feels like.

She closes her eyes, and she pulls up, within her, and old spool like a movie reel. Memories crowded together and wound tight. Christmases; birthdays; the cold touch of snow. Dangling her legs through the columns of the bannister and watching people move from above. Curling up in a big, soft bed; running in bare feet over soft grass. Charles isn't directly in any of these memories, there's not a glimpse of his face, but he is there, just the same. There is an overwhelming feeling of his presence, loving and protecting and beloved. Brother. Charles, Charles, Charles, like the soft smells of apple and cinnamon that spread through an empty house when a pie is baking. ]

private

[wedonot]

[He missed this. God, he'd missed it, and the warmth of the good memories make his eyes prick with tears, because it's good to know - to really know - that she doesn't hate him, that every memory was painful and bad, and his chest and throat feel tight.

He shifts carefully, not trying to pull away, but reorient himself so he can put his head on her shoulder, curling into her and trying not to just break down and sob. It's because he's relieved more than anything else, and he doesn't have it in him right now to be embarrassed about looking for comfort from his little sister.]

Re: private

[permutates]

[ She hugs him tight.

Welling up with the rest - there's ugliness, too. Resentment and anger. Simmering, seething anger at the rest of humankind. But Raven faces it without flinching. She acknowledges this is a part of herself. She is ugly things, too.

It doesn't mean she doesn't love him. And it doesn't mean she doesn't want to comfort him now. Because she does. It doesn't even mean she loves him any less. Her feelings confuse and disorient her, and the root of it is all of that terrible, terrible anger. Anger she's always been afraid of. Not like Erik, who used it. She hid it. She always hides.

This is her. This is all her, and she aches to be loved for it, in spite of it, because of it. Like being loved might take it all away.

Her hand strokes through his hair.

Inside her, there's still that child.

You aren't... afraid of me?

He didn't just help her bury it. Help her hide. He helped her heal. She wouldn't be who she is without him. But she would still be someone. And that was something that she had to know.

And now she tries to tell him, without the words: that the Barge gave her a chance for this. That it hurt him, but maybe it could fix them. And maybe, with that, she could help fix him back. She's starting to believe in this, and it feels strange and foreign and uncomfortable, and gentle and calm, too. She wants to help. She wants to love him again. ]

private

[wedonot]

[Whatever resolve he had left splinters and then cracks. The tears come, and they're followed by shaky sobs that he can't even try to stifle completely. He'll feel embarrassed about it later, probably, because he doesn't like to show his flaws and weaknesses where anyone can see, but right now, he can't stop it.

He hates this place because it's done so much damage to him and the people he loves, but it gave him a second chance with Erik and now with Raven, something he'd never thought was possible back home, and he's confused and angry and grateful all at once.

She didn't hate him. She didn't think he'd only tried to hurt her, that even now, he wanted her to be something that she wasn't, and he projects that he loves her, even when she's angry and confused, that it's alright to be both of those things. Anger is just another emotion, and it's perfectly fine to feel it in response to injustice, or fear or hurt. He just doesn't want her to let it destroy her, but he'll always, always love her, and he wants to make sure she knows that.

Erik might be the other half of his soul, and they might both have a larger sense of the word "family" than they did before they met him and the others, but Raven was still his sister, the person he'd grown up with and cherished and been frustrated by and fiercely loved. That was a bond that would always be special and unique and utterly irreplaceable, and he wants nothing more than to find some middle ground again. He missed her.]

private

[permutates]

[ She doesn't think she's ever seen Charles like this. Not even remotely. But there's no hesitation; she knows what to do, and she does it. Simple, even when it's not simple; easy, even when it's hard. She rubs his back, and holds him close. She can't stop the whirl of her thoughts, good and bad, and she doesn't try.

A soft shift, and what she's wearing - "wearing", since she's been forming her clothes herself half the time these days - changes to soft cotton, better for soaking up tears. She's getting good at this. Really, really good. And she's proud of it, too.

Proud of him, comes the thought connected with that. For graduating inmates, for staying by Erik's side. He's so good. And she doesn't think the Barge changed that - for all that he is different now, he is still good. ]

oh this has been spam for a while whoops

[wedonot]

[He closes his eyes and drinks in the emotion like a plant desperate for water. It's rare for him to ask for comfort like this, even though he probably needs it more than people realize, including himself. But it's good, to hear that she does understand parts of this, that she doesn't hate him.

Eventually, he manages a sort of stuffy sniff and scrubs his hand over his eyes, trying to pull himself together.

He still isn't pulling away from her, though.]

I'm sorry. Thank you, for sharing that with me.

[And although she's given him permission to be honest and open with his powers with her, there's still a wall that's gone up, keeping the dark memories safely tucked away from where she can see them. "Talking" is easier than just filtering everything across.] I am glad that we've been given this chance, Raven. I just wish it could have happened another way. I'm afraid of what's coming, and I don't want you hurt the same way we have been.

[There's a flicker of something - a memory - but he nudges it aside quickly. This has to be different.]

[permutates]

[ Her reaction is complicated. She clearly wants to say if I am, I'll handle it - and she does believe that. But that's only one layer of the truth. Part of it is that the chances she's had here make up for thing that could hurt her. And part of it is that she knows that back home, there would have been pain anyway. She doesn't have any options. There are no ways forward that don't hurt, because what she wants isn't something the world is prepared to give.

At least here she doesn't have to pretend, and that's what she settles on, in her mind-answer. She doesn't have to pretend, and that is of immense value to her.

She brushes her hair back from his forehead. We'll be okay, she thinks, and she says, out loud: ]

You need a haircut.

[ Getting a little shaggy there, Charles. ]