Persistence of Memory
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
7,456
Reviews:
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Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
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Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
57
Views:
7,456
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.
35
Persistence of Memory Chapter Thirty Five (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch, and Uberbeta…there’s a little
rhyme in English that I think would be appropriate for Atelco right now: “Liar,
Liar, Pants on Fire!” *g * InterNutter (I’ll send the rest of those
text files this week—inertia over!), T.C. and Maxwell Pink are delightful
people for archiving! J ProPhile the Busy is a nice little smutmuse
(little being a good thing—not perjurative in any way!), and Morgan is very
quiet… Readers/Reviewers: Big, huge,
dancing-around-in-a-circle thanks to those of you who reviewed and *happy pagan
dance * for reading! Thank you so much!
“What’s
going on?”
“Reach out
and see.”
Professor
Xavier was not one to be scared or admit if he was, unless there was absolute
call for it. At that moment, though, he
was very close to refusing Emma’s order and retreating to a corner to hide
until he felt in control of himself again.
“Right. Just…reach out.”
“I’ll hold
your metaphoric hand, if it makes you more comfortable.”
“Psychic
training wheels?” he asked ruefully.
“If that’s
what you want to call it.” Emma sat
down next to her “patient” and crossed her legs in a very business-like
manner. “I have had three hours of
sleep in the past three days. If you
don’t get a move on, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
He laughed
under his breath. “Emma, you understand…I
have huge gaps…”
“You
remember enough for now. You remember
what you are. You remember how we came
to be this way.”
“That has
to be enough for now,” he murmured. He
took a long, slow breath and let it out with equal patience. After a brief pause, he opened his mind and
sent out tendrils. “Oh…”
There was
such feeling imbued in the simple syllable that Emma felt an uncommon tug at
her heart. “What is it?”
“Can’t you
see?”
Emma
sighed. She had not been trying to follow his sight but rather make sure he did
not have some sort of psychic backlash, and as such she was not seeing what he
was seeing. “A moment…” Images flashed before her eyes as she culled
them from the world around her. “That
girl with the perpetual ponytail is ill, the froggy boy is panicking, the scary
one is…ew. And her boyfriend…my God,
Charles, don’t you have rules against this sort of thing?”
Professor
Xavier sighed. “I need to go
downstairs.”
Emma inclined
her head in assent. “I think you need
to turn a hose on the other two first.”
“Storm,”
Professor Xavier said softly, not willing to wake the woman if her light doze
proved to be the only sleep she would get for the next day or so.
“Charles,”
she said, smiling despite her tired eyes.
“Are you…”
“Mostly,”
he said, answering her question before she finished it. “I need to know everything…”
She sighed,
glancing at Emma over his shoulder. “It’s
a long story…” She caught the significant
look in his eyes and understanding dawned.
“Oh. Of course, you have my
permission.”
Emma raised
a brow. “I’m along for the ride.”
Storm
sighed again, this time regretfully. “If
I have no choice…” She relaxed and let
her mind open to them both, not fighting the faint pull of having psychic
fingers flipping through the pages of her memories.
“Hell in a
hand basket,” Emma sighed after several minutes.
“Something
like that,” the Professor allowed. “First
things first—Kitty. She’s already at
the hospital. Is she in surgery and is
Kurt holding up?”
“I think he’ll
be fine so long as Logan can keep him from pacing the walls and ceiling,”
Professor
Xavier fell silent for a long time.
Just when Storm and Emma began to shift uncomfortably, he spoke. “This is what we’re going to do. Storm, you deal with Evan. He’s still awake. Assign punishment after finding out what he told Risty. Exactly what he told Risty. Emma, gather Banshee, Forge and Warren. We’re going to have a final meeting about
this interview tomorrow. The questions
are fine, well and good, but we need something more definitive. Something more…planned.”
“And what
are you doing?”
“I need to
make a phone call.”
“To?” Storm
asked delicately, one brow raised.
“The one
man who will know the root of the problem.
Who I suspect will know…” He
shot Emma a glance that spoke volumes.
“Don’t ask
me,” she shrugged. “I just know what
you remembered. I cannot assign knowledge. He won’t be cooperative.”
“He never
has been,” Professor Xavier sighed.
“Magneto!”
Storm hissed. “You’re calling Magneto?”
“He does
have a phone, you know,” he said wryly.
Storm
frowned. That part of the equation had
not even occurred to her. “And why do
you have the number?”
“I’m
psychic. It’s not hard.”
Storm sighed
as the Professor wheeled from the room.
“Emma, is he really okay?”
She sighed
in return. “I can’t say. I know he remembers…he knows most of his
past and present, but there are holes…”
“How bad?”
“Bad, in some spots. He can
remember the students’ names, their abilities, their histories…he remembers
almost everything about the school. He
cannot, however, put things in good chronological order yet and he has some
gaps about the distant past and some details about things like…well,
Cerebro. He remembers it, and how to
use it, but he tried to remember making it and had some sort of spasm.”
“Spasm?”
“The memory
skipped like a record.” Emma stood and stretched. “I suggest you find out what that frog boy
is so upset about.”
“Frog… Todd. His name is Todd.”
“Whatever. He’s on his way up here in a lather.” Emma opened the door and there stood Todd,
red in the face and wild-eyed. “See?”
She sauntered by, leaving Todd to face Storm, on her way to find Banshee. This place might be interesting enough to
stay around a while…
“Lance,
wake up.”
“What is
it?” He opened one eye and yawned at
Amara, who was bent over him. For once, he was in his own room, driven there by
Forge’s orders after trying to sneak into Amara’s room after Kitty was taken to
the hospital. “Is Kitty worse or something?”
“No,
nothing to do with Kitty,” she said impatiently. “It’s Rogue.”
“Huh?”
“I just saw
her running across the back lawn towards the woods. She had that spooky Artie kid with her. I think she’s running away.”
“Why do you
think that?” he said, propping himself up on one elbow.
“Maybe
because Todd just shrieked, ‘She’s run off!’ and she was carrying a backpack.”
“For future
reference, that’s the kind of information you want to lead off with.” He sat all the way up, rubbing sleep from
his eyes. “So who’s going to search for
her?”
“We are.”
“Is Banshee
or Warren leading the group?” he asked, suddenly businesslike as he found his
pants on the floor between his bed and Todd’s.
“No, you
don’t get it. We are. Todd just yelled it…I don’t think anyone
heard him.”
“He shrieks
like a girl. I know someone had to hear
him.”
“Not if
there wasn’t anyone else…” she said a bit sheepishly.
“He doesn’t
know you heard him,” Lance sighed. “Okay. So why do we get the honor of running off
into the night to find her?”
“I saw her.” Amara shrugged. “Come on! Put on your
pants and let’s go!”
“This turn
for the helpful is very disturbing,” he yawned. “What time is it?”
“Pants,” she ordered
imperiously and for the first time, he noticed that she was fully dressed for
the cool night, and, he was amused to note, entirely in black.
“Plan on
some cat burglary while we’re out?”
“What?”
“Nothing,”
he sighed, grabbing his shirt off the foot of his bed. “Why do you want to go after her? Why not wait?”
“Why so
many questions?”
“Why not?”
“Amara…”
“Lance,”
she rejoined in her best Princess tone.
“If you do this for me, you are in absolute charge for the next…three
times.”
“Really?”
“Really,”
she sighed. “Anything you want. Even…even
that…thing you always want me to do.”
“Not
always,” he protested, but could not hide his grin.
“Always.” She glanced out the window at the deepening
night and made an impatient noise. “Come
on! We’re loosing time!”
“Okay,
okay. Let’s get going.”
She opened
his window without a second’s hesitation.
“You first.”
He frowned.
“And just how do you suggest I do that?”
“Sheet
rope?”
Lance
rolled his eyes grabbed the sheets from Todd’s bed. “His girlfriend, his sheets,” he explained. After a few minutes, he had a relatively
reasonable rope of sheets. “Ladies
first,” he said cordially.
“Wuss.” She swung out onto the sheets and lowered
herself to the ground carefully. Lance
followed more quickly, yanking the sheets down behind him and stuffing them
behind the hawthorn bush. “She went
this way.”
“You know,”
he said, breaking into a trot to follow her quick pace, “sometimes I wonder
about you.”
“What do
you mean?”
“You seem
to be getting the goody-goodies in fits and starts.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Lance, if
you’re a good boy, I promise I’ll tell you why it’s so important to me that we
get to her. And four times instead of
three,” she added.
“Deal!” Neither noticed, in their banter, that they
were being watched. Neither noticed
that they were being followed.
Disclaimers Apply
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch, and Uberbeta…there’s a little
rhyme in English that I think would be appropriate for Atelco right now: “Liar,
Liar, Pants on Fire!” *g * InterNutter (I’ll send the rest of those
text files this week—inertia over!), T.C. and Maxwell Pink are delightful
people for archiving! J ProPhile the Busy is a nice little smutmuse
(little being a good thing—not perjurative in any way!), and Morgan is very
quiet… Readers/Reviewers: Big, huge,
dancing-around-in-a-circle thanks to those of you who reviewed and *happy pagan
dance * for reading! Thank you so much!
“What’s
going on?”
“Reach out
and see.”
Professor
Xavier was not one to be scared or admit if he was, unless there was absolute
call for it. At that moment, though, he
was very close to refusing Emma’s order and retreating to a corner to hide
until he felt in control of himself again.
“Right. Just…reach out.”
“I’ll hold
your metaphoric hand, if it makes you more comfortable.”
“Psychic
training wheels?” he asked ruefully.
“If that’s
what you want to call it.” Emma sat
down next to her “patient” and crossed her legs in a very business-like
manner. “I have had three hours of
sleep in the past three days. If you
don’t get a move on, I’m going to have to hurt you.”
He laughed
under his breath. “Emma, you understand…I
have huge gaps…”
“You
remember enough for now. You remember
what you are. You remember how we came
to be this way.”
“That has
to be enough for now,” he murmured. He
took a long, slow breath and let it out with equal patience. After a brief pause, he opened his mind and
sent out tendrils. “Oh…”
There was
such feeling imbued in the simple syllable that Emma felt an uncommon tug at
her heart. “What is it?”
“Can’t you
see?”
Emma
sighed. She had not been trying to follow his sight but rather make sure he did
not have some sort of psychic backlash, and as such she was not seeing what he
was seeing. “A moment…” Images flashed before her eyes as she culled
them from the world around her. “That
girl with the perpetual ponytail is ill, the froggy boy is panicking, the scary
one is…ew. And her boyfriend…my God,
Charles, don’t you have rules against this sort of thing?”
Professor
Xavier sighed. “I need to go
downstairs.”
Emma inclined
her head in assent. “I think you need
to turn a hose on the other two first.”
“Storm,”
Professor Xavier said softly, not willing to wake the woman if her light doze
proved to be the only sleep she would get for the next day or so.
“Charles,”
she said, smiling despite her tired eyes.
“Are you…”
“Mostly,”
he said, answering her question before she finished it. “I need to know everything…”
She sighed,
glancing at Emma over his shoulder. “It’s
a long story…” She caught the significant
look in his eyes and understanding dawned.
“Oh. Of course, you have my
permission.”
Emma raised
a brow. “I’m along for the ride.”
Storm
sighed again, this time regretfully. “If
I have no choice…” She relaxed and let
her mind open to them both, not fighting the faint pull of having psychic
fingers flipping through the pages of her memories.
“Hell in a
hand basket,” Emma sighed after several minutes.
“Something
like that,” the Professor allowed. “First
things first—Kitty. She’s already at
the hospital. Is she in surgery and is
Kurt holding up?”
“I think he’ll
be fine so long as Logan can keep him from pacing the walls and ceiling,”
Professor
Xavier fell silent for a long time.
Just when Storm and Emma began to shift uncomfortably, he spoke. “This is what we’re going to do. Storm, you deal with Evan. He’s still awake. Assign punishment after finding out what he told Risty. Exactly what he told Risty. Emma, gather Banshee, Forge and Warren. We’re going to have a final meeting about
this interview tomorrow. The questions
are fine, well and good, but we need something more definitive. Something more…planned.”
“And what
are you doing?”
“I need to
make a phone call.”
“To?” Storm
asked delicately, one brow raised.
“The one
man who will know the root of the problem.
Who I suspect will know…” He
shot Emma a glance that spoke volumes.
“Don’t ask
me,” she shrugged. “I just know what
you remembered. I cannot assign knowledge. He won’t be cooperative.”
“He never
has been,” Professor Xavier sighed.
“Magneto!”
Storm hissed. “You’re calling Magneto?”
“He does
have a phone, you know,” he said wryly.
Storm
frowned. That part of the equation had
not even occurred to her. “And why do
you have the number?”
“I’m
psychic. It’s not hard.”
Storm sighed
as the Professor wheeled from the room.
“Emma, is he really okay?”
She sighed
in return. “I can’t say. I know he remembers…he knows most of his
past and present, but there are holes…”
“How bad?”
“Bad, in some spots. He can
remember the students’ names, their abilities, their histories…he remembers
almost everything about the school. He
cannot, however, put things in good chronological order yet and he has some
gaps about the distant past and some details about things like…well,
Cerebro. He remembers it, and how to
use it, but he tried to remember making it and had some sort of spasm.”
“Spasm?”
“The memory
skipped like a record.” Emma stood and stretched. “I suggest you find out what that frog boy
is so upset about.”
“Frog… Todd. His name is Todd.”
“Whatever. He’s on his way up here in a lather.” Emma opened the door and there stood Todd,
red in the face and wild-eyed. “See?”
She sauntered by, leaving Todd to face Storm, on her way to find Banshee. This place might be interesting enough to
stay around a while…
“Lance,
wake up.”
“What is
it?” He opened one eye and yawned at
Amara, who was bent over him. For once, he was in his own room, driven there by
Forge’s orders after trying to sneak into Amara’s room after Kitty was taken to
the hospital. “Is Kitty worse or something?”
“No,
nothing to do with Kitty,” she said impatiently. “It’s Rogue.”
“Huh?”
“I just saw
her running across the back lawn towards the woods. She had that spooky Artie kid with her. I think she’s running away.”
“Why do you
think that?” he said, propping himself up on one elbow.
“Maybe
because Todd just shrieked, ‘She’s run off!’ and she was carrying a backpack.”
“For future
reference, that’s the kind of information you want to lead off with.” He sat all the way up, rubbing sleep from
his eyes. “So who’s going to search for
her?”
“We are.”
“Is Banshee
or Warren leading the group?” he asked, suddenly businesslike as he found his
pants on the floor between his bed and Todd’s.
“No, you
don’t get it. We are. Todd just yelled it…I don’t think anyone
heard him.”
“He shrieks
like a girl. I know someone had to hear
him.”
“Not if
there wasn’t anyone else…” she said a bit sheepishly.
“He doesn’t
know you heard him,” Lance sighed. “Okay. So why do we get the honor of running off
into the night to find her?”
“I saw her.” Amara shrugged. “Come on! Put on your
pants and let’s go!”
“This turn
for the helpful is very disturbing,” he yawned. “What time is it?”
“Pants,” she ordered
imperiously and for the first time, he noticed that she was fully dressed for
the cool night, and, he was amused to note, entirely in black.
“Plan on
some cat burglary while we’re out?”
“What?”
“Nothing,”
he sighed, grabbing his shirt off the foot of his bed. “Why do you want to go after her? Why not wait?”
“Why so
many questions?”
“Why not?”
“Amara…”
“Lance,”
she rejoined in her best Princess tone.
“If you do this for me, you are in absolute charge for the next…three
times.”
“Really?”
“Really,”
she sighed. “Anything you want. Even…even
that…thing you always want me to do.”
“Not
always,” he protested, but could not hide his grin.
“Always.” She glanced out the window at the deepening
night and made an impatient noise. “Come
on! We’re loosing time!”
“Okay,
okay. Let’s get going.”
She opened
his window without a second’s hesitation.
“You first.”
He frowned.
“And just how do you suggest I do that?”
“Sheet
rope?”
Lance
rolled his eyes grabbed the sheets from Todd’s bed. “His girlfriend, his sheets,” he explained. After a few minutes, he had a relatively
reasonable rope of sheets. “Ladies
first,” he said cordially.
“Wuss.” She swung out onto the sheets and lowered
herself to the ground carefully. Lance
followed more quickly, yanking the sheets down behind him and stuffing them
behind the hawthorn bush. “She went
this way.”
“You know,”
he said, breaking into a trot to follow her quick pace, “sometimes I wonder
about you.”
“What do
you mean?”
“You seem
to be getting the goody-goodies in fits and starts.”
“Am not.”
“Are, too.”
“Lance, if
you’re a good boy, I promise I’ll tell you why it’s so important to me that we
get to her. And four times instead of
three,” she added.
“Deal!” Neither noticed, in their banter, that they
were being watched. Neither noticed
that they were being followed.