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I Hear the Rotors Still. <1/1>

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  • quintas488
    I guess I can post this here too, though some of you have probably already seen it. :-). This is a very strange idea that struck me and I felt compelled to
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 2, 2003
      I guess I can post this here too, though some of you have probably
      already seen it. :-).

      This is a very strange idea that struck me and I felt
      compelled to write it down. It's unbetaed, so apologies for any
      errors. It should be okay though, I've read it through several times.

      This does have the movie X-people in it, but there are no spoilers
      for the second movie, so there's no need to worry.

      I hope people enjoy, in any case.

      Disclaimer: Nobody in this fic belongs to me, and I'm not trying to
      make money off it. Honest.

      Blinky the Tree Frog

      I Hear The Rotors Still

      "I need to talk to the leader of the X-Men."

      The man outside of the gate was old, and small, and wore glasses. He
      had a look that was at both sides worried and apologetic. And he'd
      just said...

      A shiver went up Storm's spine. *He knew*.

      She carefully gave the ball she'd gone to retrieve to Artie,
      cautioned him back, and walked up to the man. When she gazed at him
      evenly through the bars, he looked uncomfortable.

      Good. Right. Get him off balance. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure
      what you're talking about. This is a school."

      He blinked owlishly at her through the glasses. "I know. I do
      know. But it's... It's more than that. I know that too. Please.
      You have to listen to me. Xavier... I know what he has here..."

      *Don't show panic. You are not worried. You are the calm at the
      centre of the storm.* "I really don't know what you're talking

      "There's going to be a war. I have information that could help." He
      stared at her earnestly through the bars and she felt cold inside.

      "Oh? I'm not sure what that has to do with the X-Men, but I assure
      you in any case that I can't help you."

      "Yes you can! Look, we really don't have time for this."

      "And I say again; I *cannot* help you. I don't know what you..."

      And the confused, apologetic look darkened ever so slightly into
      something harder. "I want to help! I know... I'm old, and I've
      always been content to live peacefully away from all of this, and
      I... But I've seen war. I've seen it, and it's cold and terrible
      and I... I have to help..." He paused, out of breath, and leaned
      against the gate's bars, coughing.

      Despite herself, Storm felt a stab of sympathy. The look on his face
      had been... as though something haunted had been dragged
      forward. "Look, I'm sorry..."

      He looked up at her again, and his face was resolved and
      focussed. "No, I don't need any help. I'm not *that* old."

      She blinked. "Well..."

      "And I really don't need another denial, either."

      "Professor Xavier is..."

      "*Not* out at a conference. You really don't think that's going to
      fool someone, do you?"

      Storm hesitated. Suddenly, she had a feeling that there was
      something here she might have missed.


      "Thank you. I'd appreciate a cup of coffee and a seat. Perhaps we
      could sit in the parlour while we wait for the Professor to get out
      of his class?"

      Her mouth shut with a snap. Behind her, Artie gave a squeal of
      delight. "You can see in the future!" he said.

      When her expression softened into understanding, his dissolved back
      into that of mild apology.

      "I'm sorry." He said. "I know that was rude but..."

      Storm shook her head. "*I* was rude. Please, if you'd like to give
      me some details the professor won't be long. Mr...?"


      The coffee was hot and strong, and the parlour was warm and
      comfortable. The old man settled back into his chair with a sigh and
      took a sip.

      Storm set herself down next to him. "I apologise for before. I
      didn't realise."

      The smile took years off his face. "That's fine, really. You
      couldn't be expected to."

      "So you're a precog?"

      He chuckled. "Am I? They never had a word like that back in my day,
      you know. It was just something I could do."

      She smiled in return. "May I ask which war you were in, or does that
      show your age too much?"

      "Not at all." A shake of his head. "I'm not ashamed of not being
      young anymore."

      "A healthy attitude."

      "I like to think so." He paused and she could see him going
      back. "It was the Korean war. Before Vietnam, not as well
      publicised, just as terrible."

      "All war is terrible."

      "It is. And I was so young, so naïve..." He sipped his tea and
      looked contemplative. "That was when I first developed my power, you
      know. Of course I didn't think of it like that... but that was the

      "You used it all through the war?"

      "A little more later on. At first... I heard the rotors."


      "I was stationed at a mobile hospital. The injured were flown in on
      choppers and... I knew. Before it was even possible to hear them
      coming in, I heard the rotors, the chop, chop, chop of the copters,
      and I had everyone on standby." He smiled ruefully. "They all just
      thought that I had amazing hearing. Didn't explain how I always
      seemed to know what people wanted before they knew it, of course, but
      I think they were just grateful to have someone that competent. They
      were good people... they were all good people there."

      "It must give you such mixed feelings. To have made friends against
      such a terrible backdrop..."

      "The memories are... strange. Hard." He sighed. "When I got home
      after, I went back to everyday world and just tried to bury the bad
      times. Went back to my comfortable little world and lived a
      comfortable little life. Heard all the fuss about mutants as it
      started up, and thought, 'Hmm, guess that's me'. I didn't try to
      advertise it. I was content."

      "But you're here now..."

      "I'm here now. I'm here because..." He took a deep breath and
      gently put down his tea. "I'm here because some of the memories...
      No one should have those memories. *Children*. Children shouldn't
      have those memories. It isn't right, and if I can help, I should.
      The things I've been seeing lately... My talent's been growing since
      those first years. I see far ahead, I hear the future. I hear..."
      His face was mask of gentle despair. "I hear the rotors. I hear
      them again, and there's so many..."

      "And you want them to stop." Engrossed in the story, Storm jumped as
      Professor Xavier gently rolled into the room. "I share your
      sentiments. I'm glad you came, Mr O'Reilly."

      The old man smiled. "Radar," He said. "Way back then... they used
      to call me Radar."

      And the Professor nodded, and they began to discuss the future.


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