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Fic : Hope 1/4 (sequel to beginnings)

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  • s.riley@southampton.gov.uk
    Title : Hope Author: Sarita Email: s.riley@s... Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. The world is not mine. They belong to the people who created them
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 3, 2001
      Title : Hope
      Author: Sarita
      Email: s.riley@s...
      Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. The world is not
      mine. They belong to the people who created them and no copyright
      infringement is intended. I'm just borrowing them for a while. (God
      that's the hardest thing I've ever had to say.)
      Rating: This part is pretty much PG, but it does deal with the
      aftermath of suicide and the occasional swear word may slip in. I've
      warned you so I don't feel obliged to alter the rating if I get
      carried away while writing.
      Feedback is definitely appreciated. Any constructive criticism of
      what I'm putting the characters through would also be welcomed
      (ideas, suggestions, technical errors).
      Archive :List archive, power of Cyclops if wanted and anyone else
      I've already said yes to for any of my stories. Newbies are welcome
      but please ask and let me know where its going (`cos it's a good way
      of finding new sites for me to visit!).

      Notes : This is a "sequel" of sorts to `Beginnings', in that it will
      (hopefully) form part of an ongoing series. It will not make much
      sense unless you have read `Beginnings'. This part is essentially
      nothing more than an extended conversation between Scott and Charles
      following some pretty traumatic events. It's movieverse and deals
      with Scott's arrival in Westchester.

      Charles sat in the darkened room, waiting. The figure on the bed
      hadn't stirred since his arrival that morning. Hank had announced
      that he would make a full recovery before disappearing into his lab,
      eager to leave the first few tentative steps following the boys'
      awakening to Charles himself. A full recovery in body at least
      Charles chided himself. His mental state upon awakening occupied his
      thoughts now. They had done all they could for the body – now the
      mind must be saved from the oblivion it mistakenly sought. Three
      weeks of waiting, patiently searching, seemed forever ago here in
      this room. He watched the rise and fall of the boys chest and
      listened intently to the slumbering mind for signs of waking. His
      eyes were drawn to the bandage on his arm. Thank god he only managed
      the one cut for that had done damage enough. Hanks' emergency
      treatment at the scene had been supplemented upon his return to
      Westchester with a more cosmetic repair to the damaged flesh. Tendon
      and muscle had miraculously escaped permanent harm. The boy would
      always bear some faints scars from his ordeal though. If he chose to
      live that is.

      Charles would not, could not, impose that choice upon his guest.
      Hank had argued fiercely with him on that point. Wanted Charles to
      use his gift to prevent the boy attempting to repeat the harm he had
      done, to impose some kind of mental command or wash away the pain
      that had driven him to his actions in the first place. It could be
      done of course but he would not. What good would that do. If the boy
      ever found out what he had done he would never be forgiven, trusted.
      And what would that actually solve. He had the survived the crucible
      of his early years and he had the right to see what kind of man was
      forged from that trial. Some good had to come of the pain he had
      endured for surely it must make him stronger, more understanding. In
      any event he must be allowed to choose in something this fundamental.
      Life or death was not Charles' to give or take.

      Since the boy had arrived he had been in constant contact with his
      mind. Not intrusive but like a gentle wave lapping over the surface
      thoughts and emotions still present even under sedation. He knew,
      without trying to probe deeply, that the boy was a deeply private
      individual, guarded in his emotions. Given the life he had even
      before his mutation became apparent it was not surprising to find
      such an emotional shield. Interference or intrusion would not be
      appreciated however he may justify it as in the boys best interests.
      The images and thoughts floating randomly about the surface were
      enough for now. They formed a complex jigsaw puzzle that gave Charles
      a working picture of who the boy was, what drove him and what
      potential lay within. That potential was the key. Despite the
      circumstances of his arrival, despite Charles own feelings of guilt
      at not having been able to be there for the boy from the onset of his
      mutation, he felt joy. Here was a mind that was truly worth saving.
      Beneath the pain and the desperation that the boy now felt, beneath
      the fear and uncertainty about his future, was a core of strength and
      compassion. If Charles could just draw on the strength within the boy
      that fed his endurance and show him that he still had choices left to
      him there was hope for his salvation.
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