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1739FIC: Things I Cannot Change (1/1)

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  • kawcrow@worldnet.att.net
    Jan 1, 2001
    • 0 Attachment
      TITLE: Things I Cannot Change
      AUTHOR: Kawcrow
      FEEDBACK: *PLEASE!* kawcrow@...
      RATING: Oh, PG for Angst.
      SUMMARY: Rogue takes on hope and the unchangeable.
      CATEGORY: Angst angst ANGST, Rogue POV.
      ARCHIVE: XMMFF, go for it; anywhere else, pleeeease ask me first.
      DISCLAIMER: Story=mine. Characters=Marvel's. Money=Marvel's.
      Lawyers=Marvel's. Any questions? (Oh,
      yeah: Song=The Maverick's[who ROCK], Serenity Prayer=Unknown's.)
      AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's angsty, it's sappy, it no doubt makes one want to
      throw things at the screen. This is NOT my fault. I was SUPPOSED to be
      writing a silly New Year's fluff-odd-crossover-fic--but noooooo. An
      Angst Bunny bit me. The one species of Bunny in *particular* that I'm
      always *begging* to bite me good and hard never *does*, but the one time
      angst is the furthest thing from my mind, the bloody Lapin comes out of
      hibernation and goes on the attack. Happy New Year.


      Leaves fall in the cool October air
      Days grow short, and I can't remember where
      I saw you last, turned against the summer light
      Walking off on that final August night

      I was there on my knees
      All alone

      In a world where nothing ever stays the same
      I am left with only things I cannot change
      You've gone away and left me things I cannot change

      Smoke will rise and a fire always burns
      Sands will drift and tides will turn
      And I can't wrestle with the sea
      Rearrange the sky or fight against the wind
      Any more than I can bring you back to me

      In a world where nothing ever stays the same
      I am left with only things I cannot change
      You've gone away and left me things I cannot change
      So far away and left me things I cannot change
      Left me things I cannot change


      Hope is a terrible thing. A thing with feathers, Emily Dickinson says;
      it flutters in the dark corners and it will never, never die.

      I've tried to kill it. I've beaten it with words and screams and the
      deep black voices in my mind that aren't mine and never belonged to me.
      I've lain awake at night and clawed it, ripped out bloody handfuls of
      feathers that litter my imagination as it chirps that saccharine death
      knell, a tune with words: maybe - maybe - maybe.

      Hope is a terrible thing, because it lives forever and won't let
      anything else die: the echoing whispers as I slink among a gawking crowd
      at school, the ever-present feel of cloth binding my skin, the look of
      quiet despair in Professor Xavier's eyes as he tells me he is so sorry,
      not this time, we'll keep trying, keep your chin up, nothing we can do.
      He tells me I have to find to closure with myself, acceptance with the
      way my body has turned me against the world.

      I can't. I cannot bring myself to accept this--power, this *thing* that
      makes me less of a human being and more a monster every time Jean
      flinches away if I surprise her in the dark hall; when every time she
      thinks I'm not looking Storm folds her arms safely behind her back--away
      from me. Somewhere in the world, inside me, is that girl I used to be.
      I'm more than the sum of my parts, my abilities and flaws, right? It;s a
      Me-22: I cannot accept it because I'm more than what it makes me, and
      I'm being eaten alive inside because I cannot accept it.

      "Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
      courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the

      Maybe - maybe - maybe.

      Maybe the Professor and Jean will find a cure - maybe I'll grow out of
      it - maybe there will be a mutant whose special power is to touch me,
      touch only me - maybe the world will end and I won't care that I suck
      them dry, I'll do it anyway because it won't matter - maybe God will
      grant me serenity and I will grow to love it here inside my cell of skin
      and be grateful so grateful for my chance to be saintly and special and
      separate from the world - maybe He'll give me courage and I'll fight it
      somehow - maybe He'll give the world courage and then they won't care
      about touching me - maybe I'll wake up and it will all be a dream -
      maybe I will grow so powerful I can stop the tide and become the wind
      and then I won't care that everybody is afraid of me, deep down afraid
      of me - maybe I'll die and they'll come to stroke my face -
      maybe I will find wisdom and cry.

      Maybe I'll do what I've been doing. The day this thing becomes a part of
      me, and I become what the world is afraid of...they wouldn't be able to
      stop me. I can feel it. I know I'm getting stronger. The Professor would
      be proud; he'd call it harnessing my powers. But he's wrong. I don't
      want to look within myself, because I know what
      I'll find there.

      I don't know what wisdom is. I don't know if I can find courage. And the
      world will never, ever give me serenity.

      Maybe hope is all I have.