Bellwether

Bellwether Chapter Forty Five

Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *sends carpet gnomes
to do the work *  InterNutter, TC,
Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for
archiving/hosting.  J ProPhile: BON
VOYAGE! *GLOMP * Morgan: I'll exist tomorrow around 7 pm CST…style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Readers/Reviewers: Thank you SO much for
reading and reviewing as you can! It is VERY appreciated! J

     Professor Xavier
exhaled slowly through his nose, his lips still pressed together in a thin line
of annoyance and, he admitted it to himself, anger.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Her name was really Dolores, he found.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  She was so used to using false identity,
pretending to be someone she was not all to make her husband happy, all to make
sure no one connected them.  She had not
born scars like some he knew, nor had she been able to pinpoint when it all
started.  He had always known, she told
the Professor, since before he married her. 
She had been so happy to be loved, so happy to be wanted, that she had
not questioned his requirements of her. 
Don't use your real name, he forced her to promise.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Don't let anyone know you're mine, he added,
and she had agreed.  Her entire life had
been spent waiting, wanting that one special person to make her feel like he
did, to make her feel as if she were the center of their universe and they
would take care of her and love her forever, no matter what her 'problem' did
to her, that she was more than happy to comply.

     "You're
doing it again," she muttered sleepily, tugging the airline blanket more
securely around her shoulders. 
"Stay out of my head please."

     "My
apologies," he murmured, smiling tightly at her even though she did not
open her eyes.  It had been easier than
expected, leaving with her.  He was not
fool enough to believe it would remain that way. Only just now was it time for
her husband to meet her at the appointed spot, to pick her up from her day as a
maid and take her to her second job at some doctor's office, more than that she
would not reveal to him, even under gentle mental nudges.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "I sometimes…"

    
"Wander?" she asked, a smile touching her own full lips.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Her entire body was tense, rigid with fear
and apprehension, but she did her best not to show it.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  She did not ask him how he was able to get
them out of the country so fast, get her papers in order so quickly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  The airline was private and more exclusive
than any she had ever heard of.  The sole
flight attendant flicked a gaze over her when they first sat down and Dolores
simple knew that the woman was like her, somehow.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "Do you know many like me?style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Like us?" she finally asked, opening one
eye to fix him with a curious, cautious gaze. 
"Or am I a one off?"

     "I know
quite a few people like us," the Professor offered kindly.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "In fact, your first stop stateside will
be at my Institute, which is crammed to the rafters with mutants."style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He winced inwardly at her gasp, forcing the
words from his lips before she could react further.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "We are all mutants, Dolores.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Even the so-called normal people of the
world.  DNA has so many facets to it that
it is bound to garner point mutations, cellular differences that are not
apparent to the naked eye.  Mutants like
us, those of us who seem to have…evolved…somehow… are not as rare as you might
think, but neither are we obvious and open."style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He paused, considering.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "Not usually, anyway."

     She shifted in
her seat, twisting about so she could look at him more fully.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He knew the question before she asked it but
she did not care.  "Why?" she
asked quietly.  "Why are you helping
me?" she asked as her fingers curled into loose fists at the edges of the
small blanket.  "I know that I asked
you but you could have easily said no, made trouble for me with my
boss…"  Her accent was thickening as
her eyes filled with bitter tears, her eyes narrowing with the last shards of
suspicion.

     "I cannot
let another living creature, human or animal, suffer for another's ignorance,"
he said simply, pressing the button to summon the flight attendant.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "I believe it's time for some tea.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  Would you care for any?"

     Dolores nodded
dumbly, readjusting her position so that she was not forming a human pretzel
and instead faced the tiny monitor set into the seat back in front of her.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "Professor Xavier," she began
slowly, only to be interrupted by the arrival of the attendant and the tea
tray, complete with real silver tea service. 
"Wuff…"

     The Professor
smiled thinly, too old to me embarrassed by his show of wealth.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He was rich as Croesus, he thought,
remembering Eric's old term for it, once quite popular. style='mso-spacerun:yes'> You can't take it with you after all, he had
said more than once and now, the Professor thought with grim amusement, he was
old enough that the saying was more a warning than a chestnut.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He leaned back in his special seat as the
woman poured his tea as he liked it, only to hiss in surprise as the tea cup
suddenly slid, spilling it's contents on his stomach and hand. The plane was
banking hard right, something he knew to be wrong for their flight plan.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "Erin, please go ask the captain what's
going on," he requested as the plane evened out.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  "Thank you."style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  He smiled again at Dolores and her wide,
rabbit-scared eyes.  "I'm sure it's
just standard turbulence…"

     "No,"
she groaned, covering her eyes. "My mum always said my blood would out,
didn't she?  God's curse on me…"

     "I highly
doubt that any higher power would execute a curse by way of turbulence,"
he said flatly, gripping the seat arms as the plane banked again.style='mso-spacerun:yes'>  The hiss-click of the intercom coming on
struck him as oddly ominous, though, and he stilled himself for the
announcement.

     "I'm
afraid," the cultured tones came from the cockpit, "that we have a
bit of a problem.  Something's in our
way…"