noteful | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Meg is bored.

And still contagious.

And bored.

And covered in calamine lotion, which only does so much for the itching and clashes rather dreadfully with her hair.

And bored.

She eyes her pile of books without anything that could be called enthusiasm, turning the three bracelets on her wrist around, idly.

And then stops, as her fingers find the one link on bracelet from Laura that is heavier than the others.

She hesitates for a moment and then taps the communicator on her wrist that she's never needed to use in the more than two years she's worn it every day.

"Laura? Are you there?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, I see," Meg says.

"Well, I guess that makes a kind of sense. His wanting to, I mean. If I'd met you when when I was Tomas's age, I'd probably have wanted to be like you when I grew up, too."

X looks startled, eyes going wide.

The look lingers for a second. Then two.

Then --

"He tried to run away from home. In a mask. To reach Greymalkin Industries."

Beat.

"Inez made me talk to him. When I found him."

"Oh, dear," Meg says.

That's probably also understandable, if not exactly advisable.

"What did you tell him?"

"That he does not know if he is a mutant, yet. And if he is not, he can be an Avenger. Or in SHIELD. But he will have to be older. And he would not be able to play baseball."

X shrugs, one-shouldered and quick.

"His mother said he was grounded. Except for practicing baseball. With me."

Beat.

"He did not have much of a tantrum."

For what that is worth.

"Not much of a tantrum is better than much of one, I suppose," Meg says.

A second, and then she adds curiously, "Is there any chance he is a mutant?"

"There is not a history of it. In his family."

X frowns a little, thinking.

"I asked."

Beat.

"But that does not make it impossible."

"What about the situation with Hope? You said she was the first born after someone decided there shouldn't be mutants. Would that have any impact? Would that make it impossible for him to be one?"

"I -- "

X hesitates, gave dropping to the floor.

She shakes her head. Once.

Then she looks back up.

"No. It -- some people are awakening. As mutants. Now."

Beat.

"Teenagers. It is -- they are afraid."

Meg nods.

"I would imagine it could be a fairly frightening thing."

Honestly, being a non-mutant teenager was occasionally fairly frightening.

"I do not know."

Beat.

"I was seven."

She shrugs again, but this time she does not look away.

"Hope helps them. They tell her that she is the only one that can."

"Who tells her? The frightened teenagers? Or . . . some other 'they'?"

"The X-men."

Beat.

"And the teenagers. Now. She has found five."

"And do you think she really is the only person who can help?"

X hesitates, biting her lip for a few moments.

Hard.

Sometimes it is difficult to criticize the people in charge. But --

"I -- I am not certain. They do not have control to start. But most mutants do not. Did not."

She stays very still, deliberately not flinching.

"I do not know why people think it is different now."

Edited 2012-03-26 02:23 (UTC)

Meg is quiet for a moment, thinking about words.

"It sounds," she says, finally, speaking fairly slowly, "from what you've told me, like you had something happen that was . . . catastrophic. And people sometimes react to that sort of thing by, on some level, needing a miracle, for lack of a better word. And sometimes that miracle is a person, and he or she has to be faster and stronger and better and capable of righting the wrong.

"And whether or not that person actually is miraculous is almost irrelevant. Because it's about needing a savior as much as it is about having one.

"So if there are people who need to believe that Hope is the game-changer, that she can save you, then they may need to see her doing that. To be the one and only who can help.

"Even if she's not."

"That is stupid."

This is X's first and immediate response.

But after a moment or two of thought --

"And it is not fair. To her. Or to the other mutants. We can do things, too."

Beat.

"We can all help. If we are not too afraid."

"Well, it's irrational," Meg says.

She probably wouldn't say stupid.

"And, no, it's not fair. To anyone.

"And, yes, even if you can't all help in the same way, I would think that there would be ways for anyone who wanted to help to help."

"I know people hate us. And it is not always safe."

X is still ruthlessly not fidgeting, even if she wants to.

"But it is important to try. And to help."

X does not know how not to, really. Not at this point.

She likes it that way.

"Because that's the way you see the world, Laura. You're smart, and you're strong, and you're brave, and you help people when you can, and you try to fix the things that you think need to be fixed.

"And that, I'm sure, is why Tomas wants to run away and be an X-man."

But --

Meg --

X does not know how to parse that. And she does not blush. But --

Just this once, if she could, she probably would.

Still.

"But he does not need to be an X-man."

X does not quite sound plaintive, but it's close.

"To do that."

"No, he doesn't," Meg agrees. "And he'll figure that out, when he's old enough to understand that the attributes and the title aren't just a package deal.

"But you'll still be part of the reason he wants to be all those things. Just like my father's the reason I want to be a doctor."

"Oh."

X's voice is quiet.

"I -- "

She does not know what to say to that. At all.

It's all right.

Sometimes, you don't have to know what to say.

Meg is silent for a moment, too.

And then she starts coughing.

After several seconds, there's a gesture toward the water glass nearby that probably means Please would you mind handing me that?

X snags the water glass in a movement that is faster than humanly possible.

She wavers a moment between handing it to Meg or holding it up to her mouth so she can drink without worrying about spilling -- X's superhuman reflexes will be good for something here --

Then leaves it to Meg to decide.

X is not used to this. At all.

Meg manages to hold up one index finger in the universe gesture for just give me a moment. Gradually the coughing eases to intermittent and then subsiding, and she reaches to take the glass.

"Thank you," she says, somewhat hoarsely.