Persistence of Memory
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
7,440
Reviews:
68
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
7,440
Reviews:
68
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.
18
Persistence of Memory Chapter Eighteen (NC-17)
Persistence of Memory Chapter Eighteen (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…How’s the Wheel of
the Year holding up out there?
InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are loverly and smooshy for
archiving. J ProPhile is a wonderful smutmuse who
provides me with interesting pictures and slideshows and gets even more dancing
sparkley muses for his amusement…enjoyment…er…whatever he does with them. Readers/Reviewers: * duck kisses *
“Oh, pardon
me, Charles. I thought you were still
in…” …” Storm began to pull the door
closed but was stopped by the Professor.
“No,
wait…please…”
“Is
something the matter?” She paused, half
in and half out of the room.
“I was
wondering…about these photos…” He
wheeled closer, a purple album on his lap.
“I was wondering which student was responsible. They’re quite remarkable in their skill, the
use of effects and such. Quite beyond
what I’d expect of a teenager…” He
lifted the book for her to see.
Storm
frowned, plucking the book from the Professor’s outstretched hand. The first several pages were unremarkable,
simple photos of Bayville, the Institute, some of Manhattan, some standard issue
school photos, but about ten mages in, the pictures became distinctly odd to
the untrained eye. Instead of photo lab
produced shots, they were Polaroids or computer printouts from digital images,
pictures of the students and older mutants in various situations that would
draw unseemly and shocked attention to the Institute. With a barely suppressed grimace, Storm shut the book. “I know just who is responsible for this. May I borrow this?”
“Is it
mine?”
“I believe
it was intended for you, yes…I’d like to take this and express my feelings to
the student responsible.”
The
Professor nodded slowly. “Go
ahead. Are all the students gone at
this time of day?”
Storm chose
her answer carefully. “The ones who
choose to attend Bayville for half the day, yes. The others—most of the students in fact—are still here. Warren and Sean have the bulk of them
in…physical education class. The rest
are in basic science class with Hank.”
The classes were still somewhat of a muddle as they tried to sort which
students belonged in which level, as some were very advanced in some subjects
but sorely lacking in others. Until the
problem was solved, the classes were hit and miss.
“Warren? Sean?”
He frowned. “They’re new,
correct?”
“Correct,”
Storm tucked the album under her arm and made to leave. She did not want to
have to lie to the Professor if he asked for more details, especially given the
pictures he had just seen. “You can
meet them at lunch, if you’d like to join us in the dining hall.”
“That’d be
very interesting,” he said laconically.
“I’m looking forward to it already.”
“We eat at
twelve thirty these days…is that too early for you?” She felt oddly disrespectful to be so formal with the man she
considered closer to her than most of her family and almost closer than
Logan. But, she reminded herself, she
knew it was necessary to protect him from his own life until he regained his
whole memory.
He seemed
to pick up on her tone and nodded cordially.
“That would be fine. I’ll see
you then.” Storm smiled tightly and
shut the door on her way out, already composing a tirade to unleash on Kitty
when she returned from school. Professor
Xavier waited a full five minutes before letting himself out of the room. The mansion—his home, he reminded himself—was
strangely quiet. He could smell a faint
odor of fresh wood and paint and he remembered that he had just had a new wing
added on that summer, to make room for new students. Special students…special needs. Maybe they’re autistic?
No…that’s not it… His train
of thought abruptly derailed when a tall, irate looking teenager came barreling
down the hall, barely pausing as he brushed past him.
“Sorry!” he
called back.
“That’s…okay,”
The Professor responded. “Whoever you
are.”
“Hello.”
“Oh…bon
jour!” Remy smiled cavalierly down at
him. “Dat were Ray. He hidin’ from me.”
“Why’s
that?” the Professor asked mildly. “And
is that a playing card?”
Remy
glanced at his hand and seemed surprised to find himself holding the Ace of
Clubs. “Er…oops.” With a sheepish grin, he tucked it into his
pocket. “Desole[1] Forgot bout de rules!” He sketched an informal bow and dashed off
after Ray. “C’mere! You owe me mo’ push
ups!”
The Professor shook his head as if
to clear it. “Rules? Against playing
cards?” With a resigned sigh, he moved
further down the corridor and found himself at the bank of elevators that he
knew would take him up to his floor and down to the basement levels. The basement levels, he reflected, seemed to
be the right choice that day. He closed
his eyes and jabbed at a random button, hoping itld lld lead him somewhere
useful to his memory.
“Come on! You’re pulling your punches!” Warren called from above the assembled
students. They were panting and
sweating and in various stages of annoyance and fear as the sim reset
itself. “Okay, remember—you can’t hurt
the Danger Room. Give it everything you’ve
got!” He flew upwards, hovering near
the ceiling, as the pseudo battle re-started.
Are you sure that’s a good
idea? Telling them that?
Jean’s voice in his head made him
smile. Why not?
They’re supposed to be learning how to control their
powers…not how to blow things up on accident.
Trial and error, dear
girl. Trial and error. As if the mental conversation were a signal,
something loud and metalliplodploded, sending shrapnel all flying. Warren could practically hear Jean’s mental
sigh as the fragments stopped mid-air, held by an unseen hand. “Okay,” he said loudly. “That was a mistake. Now, we’re going to take a break from this
sim and I want you to start going in pairs to practice stopping projectiles.” Rapidly, he paired off the students and had
Jean set up a basic program that sent discs flying towards the students at a
high speed, something Kurt sardonically dubbed Logan’s Skeet Shooting Bonanza. “Remember,” Warren warned them, “just aim at
the discs, not each other and not anything else in the Danger Room!”
The first two up were Tabby and
Wanda, not students at all but admitted to these practices for reasons of their
own. “We can’t blow shit up, huh?”
Tabby called.
“No!” chorused Jean, Banshee and
Warren.
“Damn.” To Wanda, she added, “What’s
the point then?”
“Dunno. Just go!” she cried out this last as several discs came flying at
them.
It was on this that the doors to
the Danger Room slid open, the code override responding to the Professor’s
retinal scan. He could not form words
as he saw the blonde girl throwing balls of luminous energy at the projectiles
and the dark haired girl holding out her hands as if to catch them, only to
have the discs turn to ash before they reached her. The Danger Room became still as death as the door alarms stopped
sounding and all eyes turned to face the Professor. “Oh, my,” he finally managed before he drooped forward in his
chair.
Jamie could not hold it in any
longer. When Rahne followed Kitty to
the girls’ restroom, he tagged along behind.
The foyer outside the administrative offices of the school was full of
Institute students and Logan, who was arguing sotto voce with the harried
secretary. Jamie looked around
furtively before darting into the restroom after the girls. “Rahne,” he began, only to draw up short at
the sight of Kitty glaring at him.
“Like, what the Hell do you think
you’re doing?” She fisted her hands on
her hips and paced towards him. “Girls
only, Jamie!”
“I need to talk to Rahne!”
“We’re like, going to the bathroom!”
Jamie knew he was in trouble
because Kitty’s speech patterns had reverted.
Wincing slightly as he bumped into the door, he said, “She’s been avoiding
me!”
Kitty sighed. “Rahne, is that true?”
Rahne peeked around the edge of a
stall door, hoping that maybe Jamie had forgotten she was in there. “A little…”
Jamie
frowned. “Rahne, you owe me an explanation.”
“For what?”
she asked innocently, edging around the door slowly. “I just need to pee.”
“Rahne,” he
sighed, exasperated.
Kitty made
a motion for silence. “Look, I’m going
to stand right outside the door and keep anyone from coming in, okay? But you two make it fast. We’re still at
school and Logan’ll flip if he knows you’re in here, Jamie!”
Jamie
nodded, swallowing hard, as Kitty squeezed out behind him. “Rahne,” he began as soon as the door was
shut, “what’s going on? You’ve been
acting weird as Hell lately and when I try to talk to you, you run off.”
“No, I don’t,”
she lied, edging away again.
“See?” he
cried, pointing at her.
“Damn it,”
she growled. “There’s nothing wrong,
Jamie. I just…need time.”
“Time for
what?”
“I’m not
getting out of this, am I?” she sighed, sinking to the floor beneath the tampon
machine.
Jamie had a
sick feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he took a few tentative
steps towards her. “Out of what?”
“I love
you, Jamie. I’ve heard Scott say that
we’re too young, heard Warren and…and…Logan say that we won’t last very long…”
“So?” he
demanded, sitting down across from her, trying not to feel so embarrassed about
being in the girls’ restroom. “We know
better, right?” Rahne sniffled
miserably. “Right?” he asked, his voice
higher than he would have liked with ensuing panic.
“Jamie,”
she said softly, “I feel so bad. I
kissed Sam because I wanted you to be jealous and remember I was important to
you when you came back from helping save Jubilee. It was like something else was taking my place in your life. I kissed Sam because I wanted you to be
jealous and maybe think someone else wanted me if you didn’t…”
“That’s
silly,” he sighed. “I love you, even if
I get distracted by something else. I
mean, there’s things you get into that make you forget about me sometimes…” he
trailed off meaningfully, hoping she would see his point.
“Jamie,”
she sobbed, crying outright now, “you have to break up with me!”
“What?” He literally rocked back at this. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I liked
kissing Sam! I think about it…a lot!”
She sounded so miserable that Jamie
nearly cried himself. It was several
moments before he could manage a response.
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding astounded
that he would even ask. “But…”
Jamie felt very, very tired all of
a sudden. “Rahne, I love you. I know we’re young and all that, but I know
that I love you and always will.” He
chanced a smile. “Kitty says Kurt has
Catholic guilt…maybe that’s the deal with you…”
She sniffed indignantly. “Hardly.”
“Look,” he said urgently, “I’ve
never told you this before because I didn’t think it was right, but I liked
kissing Jubilee that time, even though that wasn’t exactly my most thought out
moment. And you know what else? Sometimes I still think about it.” He was not about to divulge the stuff of his
fantasies to his girlfriend, especially given that he was only just recently
starting to lose any sort of residual socially imparted guilt pertaining to the
matter.
Rahne
looked angered for a moment, opening her mouth to say something, only to be
saved from making a potentially fatal error when Kitty stuck her head in the
door. “We’re needed in the principal’s
office. Come on!”
Rahne stood
and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Jamie…I do love you. Really.”
“Come on,”
he sighed, offering her his hand. “We
can talk about this later.”
“Okay,” she
said wearily. He doesn’t get it…how
can he?
Kitty was
still just outside the door. “Principal
Darkholme is in her office but refusing to see Logan, so he wants us to…er…”
“Storm the
citadel,” Kurt put in succinctly. “No good can come of this.”
Jamie
glanced at the other couple with something near envy. “Well, may as well get it over with.”
Kitty
watched Jamie and Rahne delve into the small throng of studesurrsurrounding
Logan. “When did Jamie grow up?” she
asked Kurt wonderingly. “It’s like he
aged ten years since his birthday.”
“I think it
was a week ago Tuesday, around three o’clock,” Kurt sighed. “One minute, he’s fifteen, the next, he’s
getting a pension.”
Kitty
laughed under her breath. “Well, he’s
the last one of us who isn’t jaded about something. I hope it lasts.”
Kurt
sighed. “Me, too…”
“Half-Pint! Elf!
Get it in gear!”
“Here goes
nothing…”
[1] Deh-so-lay Means “Sorry”
Persistence of Memory Chapter Eighteen (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta…How’s the Wheel of
the Year holding up out there?
InterNutter, TC and Maxwell Pink are loverly and smooshy for
archiving. J ProPhile is a wonderful smutmuse who
provides me with interesting pictures and slideshows and gets even more dancing
sparkley muses for his amusement…enjoyment…er…whatever he does with them. Readers/Reviewers: * duck kisses *
“Oh, pardon
me, Charles. I thought you were still
in…” …” Storm began to pull the door
closed but was stopped by the Professor.
“No,
wait…please…”
“Is
something the matter?” She paused, half
in and half out of the room.
“I was
wondering…about these photos…” He
wheeled closer, a purple album on his lap.
“I was wondering which student was responsible. They’re quite remarkable in their skill, the
use of effects and such. Quite beyond
what I’d expect of a teenager…” He
lifted the book for her to see.
Storm
frowned, plucking the book from the Professor’s outstretched hand. The first several pages were unremarkable,
simple photos of Bayville, the Institute, some of Manhattan, some standard issue
school photos, but about ten mages in, the pictures became distinctly odd to
the untrained eye. Instead of photo lab
produced shots, they were Polaroids or computer printouts from digital images,
pictures of the students and older mutants in various situations that would
draw unseemly and shocked attention to the Institute. With a barely suppressed grimace, Storm shut the book. “I know just who is responsible for this. May I borrow this?”
“Is it
mine?”
“I believe
it was intended for you, yes…I’d like to take this and express my feelings to
the student responsible.”
The
Professor nodded slowly. “Go
ahead. Are all the students gone at
this time of day?”
Storm chose
her answer carefully. “The ones who
choose to attend Bayville for half the day, yes. The others—most of the students in fact—are still here. Warren and Sean have the bulk of them
in…physical education class. The rest
are in basic science class with Hank.”
The classes were still somewhat of a muddle as they tried to sort which
students belonged in which level, as some were very advanced in some subjects
but sorely lacking in others. Until the
problem was solved, the classes were hit and miss.
“Warren? Sean?”
He frowned. “They’re new,
correct?”
“Correct,”
Storm tucked the album under her arm and made to leave. She did not want to
have to lie to the Professor if he asked for more details, especially given the
pictures he had just seen. “You can
meet them at lunch, if you’d like to join us in the dining hall.”
“That’d be
very interesting,” he said laconically.
“I’m looking forward to it already.”
“We eat at
twelve thirty these days…is that too early for you?” She felt oddly disrespectful to be so formal with the man she
considered closer to her than most of her family and almost closer than
Logan. But, she reminded herself, she
knew it was necessary to protect him from his own life until he regained his
whole memory.
He seemed
to pick up on her tone and nodded cordially.
“That would be fine. I’ll see
you then.” Storm smiled tightly and
shut the door on her way out, already composing a tirade to unleash on Kitty
when she returned from school. Professor
Xavier waited a full five minutes before letting himself out of the room. The mansion—his home, he reminded himself—was
strangely quiet. He could smell a faint
odor of fresh wood and paint and he remembered that he had just had a new wing
added on that summer, to make room for new students. Special students…special needs. Maybe they’re autistic?
No…that’s not it… His train
of thought abruptly derailed when a tall, irate looking teenager came barreling
down the hall, barely pausing as he brushed past him.
“Sorry!” he
called back.
“That’s…okay,”
The Professor responded. “Whoever you
are.”
“Hello.”
“Oh…bon
jour!” Remy smiled cavalierly down at
him. “Dat were Ray. He hidin’ from me.”
“Why’s
that?” the Professor asked mildly. “And
is that a playing card?”
Remy
glanced at his hand and seemed surprised to find himself holding the Ace of
Clubs. “Er…oops.” With a sheepish grin, he tucked it into his
pocket. “Desole[1] Forgot bout de rules!” He sketched an informal bow and dashed off
after Ray. “C’mere! You owe me mo’ push
ups!”
The Professor shook his head as if
to clear it. “Rules? Against playing
cards?” With a resigned sigh, he moved
further down the corridor and found himself at the bank of elevators that he
knew would take him up to his floor and down to the basement levels. The basement levels, he reflected, seemed to
be the right choice that day. He closed
his eyes and jabbed at a random button, hoping itld lld lead him somewhere
useful to his memory.
“Come on! You’re pulling your punches!” Warren called from above the assembled
students. They were panting and
sweating and in various stages of annoyance and fear as the sim reset
itself. “Okay, remember—you can’t hurt
the Danger Room. Give it everything you’ve
got!” He flew upwards, hovering near
the ceiling, as the pseudo battle re-started.
Are you sure that’s a good
idea? Telling them that?
Jean’s voice in his head made him
smile. Why not?
They’re supposed to be learning how to control their
powers…not how to blow things up on accident.
Trial and error, dear
girl. Trial and error. As if the mental conversation were a signal,
something loud and metalliplodploded, sending shrapnel all flying. Warren could practically hear Jean’s mental
sigh as the fragments stopped mid-air, held by an unseen hand. “Okay,” he said loudly. “That was a mistake. Now, we’re going to take a break from this
sim and I want you to start going in pairs to practice stopping projectiles.” Rapidly, he paired off the students and had
Jean set up a basic program that sent discs flying towards the students at a
high speed, something Kurt sardonically dubbed Logan’s Skeet Shooting Bonanza. “Remember,” Warren warned them, “just aim at
the discs, not each other and not anything else in the Danger Room!”
The first two up were Tabby and
Wanda, not students at all but admitted to these practices for reasons of their
own. “We can’t blow shit up, huh?”
Tabby called.
“No!” chorused Jean, Banshee and
Warren.
“Damn.” To Wanda, she added, “What’s
the point then?”
“Dunno. Just go!” she cried out this last as several discs came flying at
them.
It was on this that the doors to
the Danger Room slid open, the code override responding to the Professor’s
retinal scan. He could not form words
as he saw the blonde girl throwing balls of luminous energy at the projectiles
and the dark haired girl holding out her hands as if to catch them, only to
have the discs turn to ash before they reached her. The Danger Room became still as death as the door alarms stopped
sounding and all eyes turned to face the Professor. “Oh, my,” he finally managed before he drooped forward in his
chair.
Jamie could not hold it in any
longer. When Rahne followed Kitty to
the girls’ restroom, he tagged along behind.
The foyer outside the administrative offices of the school was full of
Institute students and Logan, who was arguing sotto voce with the harried
secretary. Jamie looked around
furtively before darting into the restroom after the girls. “Rahne,” he began, only to draw up short at
the sight of Kitty glaring at him.
“Like, what the Hell do you think
you’re doing?” She fisted her hands on
her hips and paced towards him. “Girls
only, Jamie!”
“I need to talk to Rahne!”
“We’re like, going to the bathroom!”
Jamie knew he was in trouble
because Kitty’s speech patterns had reverted.
Wincing slightly as he bumped into the door, he said, “She’s been avoiding
me!”
Kitty sighed. “Rahne, is that true?”
Rahne peeked around the edge of a
stall door, hoping that maybe Jamie had forgotten she was in there. “A little…”
Jamie
frowned. “Rahne, you owe me an explanation.”
“For what?”
she asked innocently, edging around the door slowly. “I just need to pee.”
“Rahne,” he
sighed, exasperated.
Kitty made
a motion for silence. “Look, I’m going
to stand right outside the door and keep anyone from coming in, okay? But you two make it fast. We’re still at
school and Logan’ll flip if he knows you’re in here, Jamie!”
Jamie
nodded, swallowing hard, as Kitty squeezed out behind him. “Rahne,” he began as soon as the door was
shut, “what’s going on? You’ve been
acting weird as Hell lately and when I try to talk to you, you run off.”
“No, I don’t,”
she lied, edging away again.
“See?” he
cried, pointing at her.
“Damn it,”
she growled. “There’s nothing wrong,
Jamie. I just…need time.”
“Time for
what?”
“I’m not
getting out of this, am I?” she sighed, sinking to the floor beneath the tampon
machine.
Jamie had a
sick feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he took a few tentative
steps towards her. “Out of what?”
“I love
you, Jamie. I’ve heard Scott say that
we’re too young, heard Warren and…and…Logan say that we won’t last very long…”
“So?” he
demanded, sitting down across from her, trying not to feel so embarrassed about
being in the girls’ restroom. “We know
better, right?” Rahne sniffled
miserably. “Right?” he asked, his voice
higher than he would have liked with ensuing panic.
“Jamie,”
she said softly, “I feel so bad. I
kissed Sam because I wanted you to be jealous and remember I was important to
you when you came back from helping save Jubilee. It was like something else was taking my place in your life. I kissed Sam because I wanted you to be
jealous and maybe think someone else wanted me if you didn’t…”
“That’s
silly,” he sighed. “I love you, even if
I get distracted by something else. I
mean, there’s things you get into that make you forget about me sometimes…” he
trailed off meaningfully, hoping she would see his point.
“Jamie,”
she sobbed, crying outright now, “you have to break up with me!”
“What?” He literally rocked back at this. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I liked
kissing Sam! I think about it…a lot!”
She sounded so miserable that Jamie
nearly cried himself. It was several
moments before he could manage a response.
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding astounded
that he would even ask. “But…”
Jamie felt very, very tired all of
a sudden. “Rahne, I love you. I know we’re young and all that, but I know
that I love you and always will.” He
chanced a smile. “Kitty says Kurt has
Catholic guilt…maybe that’s the deal with you…”
She sniffed indignantly. “Hardly.”
“Look,” he said urgently, “I’ve
never told you this before because I didn’t think it was right, but I liked
kissing Jubilee that time, even though that wasn’t exactly my most thought out
moment. And you know what else? Sometimes I still think about it.” He was not about to divulge the stuff of his
fantasies to his girlfriend, especially given that he was only just recently
starting to lose any sort of residual socially imparted guilt pertaining to the
matter.
Rahne
looked angered for a moment, opening her mouth to say something, only to be
saved from making a potentially fatal error when Kitty stuck her head in the
door. “We’re needed in the principal’s
office. Come on!”
Rahne stood
and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Jamie…I do love you. Really.”
“Come on,”
he sighed, offering her his hand. “We
can talk about this later.”
“Okay,” she
said wearily. He doesn’t get it…how
can he?
Kitty was
still just outside the door. “Principal
Darkholme is in her office but refusing to see Logan, so he wants us to…er…”
“Storm the
citadel,” Kurt put in succinctly. “No good can come of this.”
Jamie
glanced at the other couple with something near envy. “Well, may as well get it over with.”
Kitty
watched Jamie and Rahne delve into the small throng of studesurrsurrounding
Logan. “When did Jamie grow up?” she
asked Kurt wonderingly. “It’s like he
aged ten years since his birthday.”
“I think it
was a week ago Tuesday, around three o’clock,” Kurt sighed. “One minute, he’s fifteen, the next, he’s
getting a pension.”
Kitty
laughed under her breath. “Well, he’s
the last one of us who isn’t jaded about something. I hope it lasts.”
Kurt
sighed. “Me, too…”
“Half-Pint! Elf!
Get it in gear!”
“Here goes
nothing…”
[1] Deh-so-lay Means “Sorry”