Ah, forgot to mention in the author's note at the top that this story is brought to you by dialogue, my one true weakness. Someday, people might do things in this story. Maybe.
X The Past X
He wasn't supposed to be hearing this conversation. But there were a lot of conversations Matt wasn't meant to hear, didn't mean he didn't. He'd been walking down the highway, no more than two hours into his grand escape, when he'd been stopped by a short guy on a motorcycle. Who knew his name. Who knew about his powers. Who'd met his summer plans to "Get out of people's way, maybe see the city" with a pair of earplugs and an offer of a ride. And so he'd ended up here, sitting by the motorcycle in the driveway of some fancy estate, upstate, listening to Logan argue with who he assumed was the man who ran this school. Place Logan claimed was a school.
So he wasn't supposed to be listening, but listening seemed the best way to figure out what the hell was going on. And he needed something to center him after the wind tunnel of motorcycling for hours.
"Chuck, I get that my methods are unconventional. But I found him and I think we have a lot to offer this kid."
"If we must go by first names, Logan, I would prefer Charles. As I've told you many times. And I must disagree. I checked with Cerebro and Rachel and Mr. Murdock is doing fine. His powers are invisible, he has them under control, he doesn't need our help. Accommodating his disability and the coursework he'll need to get into college will take time and resources away from potential students that actually do need us."
"The hell, Chuck? We have the rooms. He's already here. Have Kitty or Doug hack the records so it was a legal transfer, send Rachel into the city and smooth things over with the nuns, pick up the paperwork. Send him down to the local high school if we don't have the teaching resources. Do not tell this kid that just because he can pass for normal he doesn't matter."
"I'm not saying it can't be done, I'm saying I don't see the benefit. He can pass, Logan. He can have a normal life. What would most of our students give to have that? How will they react having him around, reminding them of everything they can't have?"
Matt bit his lip and crouched down, leaning back against the tires. He didn't really understand what they were talking about, except that he wasn't a kid, he was fifteen. And that there were other people like him here. He'd wanted nothing more than to be normal, after the accident. He'd wanted nothing more than to be gifted, when Stick was around. But he was so, so tired of hiding. He could hear the wind catching what sounded like a million blades of grass in a field behind the estate, scraping and humming in a symphony that he'd never heard before. He wanted to run through that grass, where no one could ask questions about how a blind person could run. He wanted to walk into this house and pour himself a glass of water, where the glasses sat singing on their shelf from a door that had slammed earlier. That's why he'd made a break for it this summer, even knowing what Sister Catherine was going to do when some good samaritan inevitably dragged him back. He'd wanted to be somewhere where nobody knew his name, knew what he shouldn't be able to do.
"If you're so certain the kid's well adjusted, why don't you go and take a look see in his head? That's what you do when you can't figure it out like the rest of us, right?" Matt lost the thread of the conversation and he jolted back as Logan stood up and gestured wildly in his direction. "Because let me tell you this. Just because you can't quantify what he's going through or relate to it doesn't mean it's easy. Let's do it this way. What are his powers?"
"Enhanced senses, according to Cerebro. But he has them in hand, Logan."
"Right, right. Now, what can I do?"
"Fast healing, some resistance to environmental toxins, improved stamina, and yes, enhanced senses."
"Is there anyone else we know of who has some frame of reference to help this kid find not just what he can do practically, not just how to tamp down and control that deluge of information, but how to thrive with it? Is there anybody else who knows what he's going through?"
"Fine. I can see you've gotten emotionally invested. We can bring in another of your strays. But I want you back on the road tonight looking for Sooraya like you were supposed to."
"Tomorrow morning. I've got to get this punk settled in. And, given that he's heard this whole conversation, he might not be in a hurry to hang out with you, Charles. Didn't think of that, did ya. Come on over, Murdock, we've got paperwork to do."
Matt got to his feet, feeling like any gust of wind could knock him back over. He was going to miss this dream, once he woke up. It was unbelievable.
Re: Matt + the X-Men [FILL 3/?]
X The Past X
He wasn't supposed to be hearing this conversation. But there were a lot of conversations Matt wasn't meant to hear, didn't mean he didn't. He'd been walking down the highway, no more than two hours into his grand escape, when he'd been stopped by a short guy on a motorcycle. Who knew his name. Who knew about his powers. Who'd met his summer plans to "Get out of people's way, maybe see the city" with a pair of earplugs and an offer of a ride. And so he'd ended up here, sitting by the motorcycle in the driveway of some fancy estate, upstate, listening to Logan argue with who he assumed was the man who ran this school. Place Logan claimed was a school.
So he wasn't supposed to be listening, but listening seemed the best way to figure out what the hell was going on. And he needed something to center him after the wind tunnel of motorcycling for hours.
"Chuck, I get that my methods are unconventional. But I found him and I think we have a lot to offer this kid."
"If we must go by first names, Logan, I would prefer Charles. As I've told you many times. And I must disagree. I checked with Cerebro and Rachel and Mr. Murdock is doing fine. His powers are invisible, he has them under control, he doesn't need our help. Accommodating his disability and the coursework he'll need to get into college will take time and resources away from potential students that actually do need us."
"The hell, Chuck? We have the rooms. He's already here. Have Kitty or Doug hack the records so it was a legal transfer, send Rachel into the city and smooth things over with the nuns, pick up the paperwork. Send him down to the local high school if we don't have the teaching resources. Do not tell this kid that just because he can pass for normal he doesn't matter."
"I'm not saying it can't be done, I'm saying I don't see the benefit. He can pass, Logan. He can have a normal life. What would most of our students give to have that? How will they react having him around, reminding them of everything they can't have?"
Matt bit his lip and crouched down, leaning back against the tires. He didn't really understand what they were talking about, except that he wasn't a kid, he was fifteen. And that there were other people like him here. He'd wanted nothing more than to be normal, after the accident. He'd wanted nothing more than to be gifted, when Stick was around. But he was so, so tired of hiding. He could hear the wind catching what sounded like a million blades of grass in a field behind the estate, scraping and humming in a symphony that he'd never heard before. He wanted to run through that grass, where no one could ask questions about how a blind person could run. He wanted to walk into this house and pour himself a glass of water, where the glasses sat singing on their shelf from a door that had slammed earlier. That's why he'd made a break for it this summer, even knowing what Sister Catherine was going to do when some good samaritan inevitably dragged him back. He'd wanted to be somewhere where nobody knew his name, knew what he shouldn't be able to do.
"If you're so certain the kid's well adjusted, why don't you go and take a look see in his head? That's what you do when you can't figure it out like the rest of us, right?" Matt lost the thread of the conversation and he jolted back as Logan stood up and gestured wildly in his direction. "Because let me tell you this. Just because you can't quantify what he's going through or relate to it doesn't mean it's easy. Let's do it this way. What are his powers?"
"Enhanced senses, according to Cerebro. But he has them in hand, Logan."
"Right, right. Now, what can I do?"
"Fast healing, some resistance to environmental toxins, improved stamina, and yes, enhanced senses."
"Is there anyone else we know of who has some frame of reference to help this kid find not just what he can do practically, not just how to tamp down and control that deluge of information, but how to thrive with it? Is there anybody else who knows what he's going through?"
"Fine. I can see you've gotten emotionally invested. We can bring in another of your strays. But I want you back on the road tonight looking for Sooraya like you were supposed to."
"Tomorrow morning. I've got to get this punk settled in. And, given that he's heard this whole conversation, he might not be in a hurry to hang out with you, Charles. Didn't think of that, did ya. Come on over, Murdock, we've got paperwork to do."
Matt got to his feet, feeling like any gust of wind could knock him back over. He was going to miss this dream, once he woke up. It was unbelievable.