Redemption

Chapter Five

We don't talk to those filth. We don't tar ourselves with their grime. We are better than those mutants. I wipe away the beads of tears getting caught in my eyelashes. Do they really think of us that way? Do they really think we're filth? I tell myself not to get worked up about this. I shouldn't have expected something like this from at least one person at the bar. Why should I cry anyway? I don't even have my most useful mutant power. Sure, the healing factor is good, and being able to control emotions is fine, but, if I ever get into a street fight, will I have time to make the guy who's holding a gun to my head think about his life or will I freak out? Probably freak out.

I roll over and check the clock. 10:58. I yawn. I better go to bed before it gets too late. I change, brush my teeth, and before my head hits the pillow, I'm asleep.

I dream about snow and a man flying into something blurred. My boss' voice starts telling me to 'Don't engage! Don't engage, Daken, DON'T ENGAGE!' The man, Cyclops, fell to the ground after colliding with the blurred thing. I stand and watch as Josh ran forward, yelling 'Are you alright Cyclops? Are you alright?' In a blink of an eye, Josh is on the ground, not moving. I open my mouth to yell but a hand closes around my neck, making me choke. The blurred thing takes human shape and helps Cyclops up. I'm lifted a few feet off the ground by the person choking me and something sharp pokes into my side. A knife. The blurry figure smooths into focus but is blocked by Cyclops. Josh is still lying on the ground. Cyclops is talking to the figure in a rapid hushed tone. My feet kick the air, trying to reach my captor, but I don't hit anything. They don't know I'm here. I'm going to die. Can I die in a dream? If I do, will I die in real life? I don't know how I'm still alive. A noise finally escapes my captor's vice grip. The noise is a strangled gasp, hopefully loud enough to catch Cyclop's attention. My legs kick uselessly into thin air. Cyclops turned, revealing the person behind him. I wish he hadn't. It was my father. Wolverine stepped forward, a strangled noise coming from his throat.

"They are not safe," said a familiar voice behind me. "Not even him."

Logan ran forward, yelling my name. Everything went black when the knife was plunged into my side. 

Logan woke up in a cold sweat. I just saw my son killed. Logan started panicking. I just saw my son killed. The time it took for Romulus to stab Daken seemed to have slowed. Romulus had been smiling, grinning demonically. Daken's eyes had been watching me, full of hate as his legs swung uselessly. Sweat poured profusely down Logan's face. He jumped out of bed and threw some clothes on. If Scott had had the same dream, Logan would have someone to talk to about it.

Cyclops met him halfway to the front doors of the X-mansion.

"Logan, I need to talk to you," he said.

"What is it?" asked Logan, heart beginning to pound.

"I had a weird dream last night," began Scott. "You were there, and someone from the bar where Magneto attacked me. We were in the alley, and I was thrown, same way with Magneto but I couldn't see who threw me. I was talking urgently to you about something I can't remember. Then-"

"We heard someone getting strangled and we turned around to see Romulus run a knife through my son." Logan finished.

"You had the same dream?" Scott gasped.

"Yeah," Logan looked around.

"Do you know what Romulus meant by 'They're not safe, not even him'?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

And with that, Logan told Scott everything Professor Xavier had told him. 

I shiver from the cold in my house. It's 3:40 and I won't go back to bed. I can't  go back to bed. I haven't gotten out of bed to turn on the heater so my apartment is bone cold. None of them are safe. Where had I heard that voice before? It seemed so familiar. I try to think back through my memories but they seem to stop when I healed from losing my claws. Who's money had I used? Who had died? Were they the same person? I remember thinking about this when I lost my claws but that seemed to have vanished too. What is wrong with me? Why am I forgetting things? I blame my dad. I shiver again, watching my breath cloud the air before me. I wrap my thin blankets around me. I look around my dark room for something to pass the time before work starts. There's nothing. I haven't bought any books or anything because I've either not had time, not had time, or just not wanted to. I get out of bed and change into something warmer. Since I'm up, I find the heater and turn it on. I looked around for the light, found it, and turned it on. Nothing happened.

"Blackout," I mutter to no one in particular. Per habit, I turn the light off.

There's a knock on my door. I open it to find a man, I've seen him around in the building so I'm assuming he's my neighbor, standing outside.

"You must be our new neighbor!" he said brightly. "I know it's new by a couple months but still!" He smiled. "Anyways, everything there's a black out, we —the people in this apartment—, hang out 'till everyone leaves for work. Want to join?"

"Sure." I said. "There's nothing better to do in my room."

The man's smile grew bigger.

"Great! Follow me,"

He led the way down the darkened hallway, flicking on a flashlight I didn't notice he had been holding. Finally, he stopped at the room at the end of the hall. I could hear voices coming from inside.

"Oh, before we go inside," the man said, hand hovering over the doorknob. "I'm Matt. What's your name?"

"I'm Daken, it's nice to meet you Matt."

"It's nice to meet you too, Daken."

He opened the door.