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FIC: The Paths Home: Came In From a Rainy Thurs (Post X-2) PG Ororo & Charles

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  • emily_joyner
    Companion piece to Bleak Desolation & I m Not a Man Who Falls Too Easily The Paths Home: Came In From a Rainy Thursday Type of Story: Series (The Paths Home:)
    Message 1 of 1 , Jul 11, 2003
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      Companion piece to Bleak Desolation & I'm Not a Man Who Falls Too
      Easily


      The Paths Home: Came In From a Rainy Thursday

      Type of Story: Series (The Paths Home:)
      Characters: Most all from the X-Men movies
      Feedback: Emily_joyner@... (Please?? I love feedback!!)
      Disclaimer: I don't own them; I only play with them…
      Additional Disclaimer: I'd like to think that I'm being
      original
      here, but more than likely I'm not. If anyone else has read
      anything
      like this, please let me know so that I can give credit where
      it's
      due!

      You can read these in regular format at:
      http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=340839

      Song fic: Ordinary World by Duran Duran
      (Words in italics are song lyrics)
      Companion piece to The Paths Home: Bleak Desolation and The Paths
      Home: I'm Not a Man Who Falls Too Easily.
      _____________________________________________________________________

      Came in from a rainy Thursday
      On the Avenue
      Thought I heard you talking softly.

      Ororo walked into the mansion after shopping that afternoon and
      paused in the foyer. She looked around at the walls, the spiraling
      staircase, the paintings, the rugs, but she didn't really see any
      of
      them. All she saw were her memories of Jean. And in the faintest
      field of her hearing, it was almost like she could hear Jean's
      soft,
      cultured voice speaking to her, reminding her of how much she missed
      her best friend.

      I turned on the lights, the TV, and the radio
      Still I can't escape the ghost of you.
      What has happened to it all?
      Crazy, some would say.
      Where is the life that I recognize?
      … Gone away…

      Ororo sadly made her up the stairs and to her suite of rooms and
      stopped in the doorway of the darkened main room. She dreaded going
      in there sometimes, the memories her rooms contained were numerous.
      She reached in the doorway and flicked on the lights and made her way
      over to her entertainment center. She proceeded to turn on the TV
      (on the Weather Channel, of course) and the radio where calming
      classical music began flowing out, settling her. But still, on the
      farthest edges of her senses, she could almost hear Jean.

      She turned and looked at all of the framed photographs on her table
      and smiled sadly. Jean always looked so vibrantly alive, the air
      almost humming around her from her vitality. Jean swore it was
      because she was a redhead and that if she dyed her hair brown, no one
      would notice her. But Ororo knew it was actually Jean herself.
      Especially after her abilities started to get stronger. But at no
      point did Ororo ever think of her as anything other than `Jean
      – Best
      Friend'.

      Sometimes, the ache of missing her got to be too much. Ororo would
      sit and look out her window, holding the charm bracelet with the
      little lightening bolts on it and cry. Kurt would always know and
      he'd come and comfort her. She'd always ask the same thing
      of
      him: "What is happening? Why?"

      And he'd always have the same answer: "It's crazy. There
      is no
      reason. It just is."

      He'd hold her and she'd accept his comfort. Her old life was
      gone
      now. She didn't recognize her new one. All that remained was
      madness, it seemed.

      But I won't cry for yesterday
      There's an ordinary world
      Somehow I have to find.
      And as I try to make my way
      To the ordinary world
      I will learn to survive.

      This particular Thursday was different, though. Ororo watched as the
      rain washed away the chalk on the back patio from where the children
      had been drawing. She watched as the red chalk drawing of a fire
      truck blended into one large red splotch and began washing into the
      flower beds. It was then that she knew. She would always miss Jean,
      but she had to come back to the world. She had to live. Ororo would
      learn to survive.

      Passion or coincidence
      Once prompted you to say
      "Pride will tear us both apart."

      Charles looked out the windows of his study and remembered Erik's
      words. They were younger men then, headstrong, full of ideals, full
      of pride. Ironic that Erik would be the one to be right. He had
      stated to Charles during their final argument that finally ended
      their associations that their pride would be their
      downfall. `Foolish Pride' Charles believed Erik called it.

      He sat there and thought about Jean and how much he missed her. She
      had been like a daughter to him and he'd loved her dearly. His
      original three students: Ororo, Scott and Jean, all held special
      places in his heart, but Jean had been different. There was the
      mental bond he'd shared with her due to her telepathic abilities.
      It
      pained him greatly not have that comforting presence on the edges of
      his being. He could only imagine how Scott must be feeling.

      He knew from the link she'd used to communicate with Scott that
      she'd
      believed that she would survive the explosion of water. But he felt
      the moment she realized that this was not going to be the case. He
      felt her acceptance and he felt her sorrow at leaving them. But he
      would never forget her final works to him, before she closed the
      link…

      "It's not your fault."

      Well now pride's gone out the window, across the rooftops, run
      away
      Left me in the vacuum of my heart.
      What is happening to me?
      Crazy, some would say.
      Where is my friend when I need you most?
      … Gone away…

      It was his fault, however. Erik was right. Charles' pride and
      arrogance had brought them this pain. His pride had nearly cost all
      of the helpless children at the mansion their home. His pride had,
      in fact, actually killed humans and mutants alike while he was in the
      second Cerebro. His pride had brought pain and suffering to
      millions. And now he could only feel gaping emptiness in his heart.
      His pain and guilt were overwhelming him to the point of almost being
      blank in everything. Combined with the grief within the mansion, it
      was taking everything Charles had in him not to succumb to the
      madness threatening to overtake him. He didn't understand what
      was
      happening to him. But he knew he needed Erik. He needed to talk to
      Erik about everything that had been happening. But Erik was gone and
      Charles couldn't find him.

      Papers in the roadside tell of suffering and greed
      Feared today, forgot tomorrow.
      Here beside the news of holy wars and holy need
      Ours is just a little sorrow, that's all.

      Charles looked over at the newspapers on his desk and felt an aching
      sadness. His whole world had just fallen apart; people had died
      tragic deaths, millions suffered at his hands, and all that the news
      reported were bombings in foreign restaurants and political scandals
      involving faceless cabinet members and assistants. Agendas that had
      been feared and conspired against had been forgotten about with the
      news about Holy Jihads and Pope assassination attempts. In the grand
      scheme of things, his grief over Jean and Erik were nameless and
      unimportant and it offended him. He'd lost his daughter and lost
      his
      best friend all over again. And he didn't know if he could get
      through this war any longer. It was wearing on him.

      But I won't cry for yesterday
      There's an ordinary world
      Somehow I have to find.
      And as I try to make my way
      To the ordinary world
      I will learn to survive.

      This particular Thursday was different, though. Charles watched as
      the rain washed away the chalk on the back patio from where the
      children had been drawing. He watched as the red chalk drawing of a
      fire truck blended into one large red splotch and began washing into
      the flower beds. He could feel Ororo grieving in her suite of rooms,
      he could sense Scott and Marie comforting each other, and he could
      tell Logan was healing from the heartache. It was then that he
      knew. He would always miss his beautiful daughter. He would always
      love her. He would cherish her memory. But he had to bring himself
      back to the world and he had to honor her sacrifice. He would live.
      He would learn to survive.
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