The Broken Crystal

Chapter Twenty

"That's not possible." Crystal's thoughts were swimming, drowning, fighting against themselves. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. Dr.Miriah had a son? Her mind struggled to recall the institution, any clues that the doctor had actually had any relatives, anything at all aside from her dear captives and praising colleagues. Her eyes kept boring into Luke's blue ones. She saw them shining like crystals in the sun's bright light.

Crystals... she suddenly remembered. There was something about crystals...

As if reading her thoughts, Luke smirked. "We've encountered before, Crystal. Am I really that forgettable?" He put a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. Crystal frowned, but when the memory swirled back to her, everything changed.

"Do you see this stone? It's a crystal. My dad gave it to me once, I thought I should show it to you," the boy said.

Crystal had never seen him before, nor did she actually see him now, either. Not his face, at least, as he wore a black cloak that covered it completely. When Crystal asked him about it, the boy's only response was a single shrug.

Not being able to see his features, Crystal paid loads of attention to the boy's frame and height. That was how she guessed that he was about the same age as her. And how old was she, really? Nine? Ten? Yes, probably.

"Is it supposed to be broken?" Crystal asked, looking at the scar stretching out across the stone.

The boy shrugged and left. She hadn't seen neither him nor the crystal since then.

"You were the crystal boy?" Crystal whispered. Her screaming thoughts stilled, silenced by the revelation.

A silent nod. Then a half-smirk, as forced as smirks could be.

"And," the girl swallowed, "Dr.Miriah is your mother?"

Luke nodded again, this time with a slight bend in his neck, his eyes trained somewhere on the ground. Crystal bit her lip, suddenly unsure. Her thoughts whirled around her again, bits and pieces strewn across like ripped up newspapers. Crystal... boy... mother, doctor... voice... father... father? TRAITOR. No choice. Death.

Luke, now Xavier, took her hesitation as a second chance and swooped in. "That's why I need to go," he explained. "She's my mother. She won't hurt me." His tongue twisted at the word 'mother' and he had to practically cough it out. He looked at the two, and frowned when he didn't see the reaction he was expecting.

Dean shook his head. "No," he said. "There's no way I'm letting you go alone." Crystal stood beside him, giving him a look. "There is no way we're letting you go alone." Dean nodded. Together they glared at Xavier, almost challenging him to go against them.

He tried a different approach. Pointing at Dean, he said: "And what makes you think she won't kill you? Crystal, sure, she's too important, but you?" Xavier smirked when Dean glared at him. Crystal lay a gentle hand on his shoulder, but reserved the daggers for Xavier, who was more than happy to receive them. He was getting under their skin.

"The doctor let him go," Crystal said. "That's proof enough that he's important. Otherwise she would've just killed him."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do! It's Savaine were talking about, the leader, the analyser. She doesn't leave any loose threads."

"If you bring him along there won't be any loose threads left for her to fix!"

Crystal looked at him like he'd just killed someone. And, technically speaking, he had. If Dean came along, he would die. Xavier was sure of it. However, the notion didn't scare away their ideas, made visible by the way they were both still looking at him, determination glinting in their eyes. They were definitely not going to change their mind. Xavier felt the heat of the argument in his cheeks.