I tried to forget-to conceal the past. But it always found its way out through the cracks. I ran. But it turns out my past was running beside me all along. (Sequel to "Freaks" Quicksilver X Reader)
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"We're okay, Hank." I heard him breathe heavily into the other end of the payphone line. "Good. Good. We're stopping Raven at the Peace Accords in a couple hours," he stated almost as if he was hyperventilating. "Are you okay? You sound like you're freaking out." His voice wavered, "Um, yeah. It's all good. I'm just about to to see the woman I think I love for the first time in like ten years and possibly get shot at a bunch of times, but it's all good." "Hank, I assure you everything will be fine." "Right, right. It's not like the future of the entire world is riding on this." "Look, I'm bringing back a friend to the mansion, he's injured. Tell Charles. And you're explaining this whole future thing after all of this." "Alright. I can take a look at him when I get back." An automated voice spoke over our conversation. Your call will be disconnected soon. Insert more change to continue call. "Thank you. I gotta go now. Call me after. You'll be fine, you got this," I reassured him. "I really hope so—" The line cut off, and I was left with the mind-drilling dial tone flooding my ears. I placed the telephone back into the hook with a click and looked at Peter, who was staring at me from the driver's seat of the Professor's car. He flashed me one of his goofy smiles and I uncontrollably returned it, my cheeks fluttering a gentle pink. I made my way to the passenger seat and turned my head to the back where Bo was sitting. "We're gonna take you to a safe place. People like us will help you." He gave me a peaceful smile and nodded, mouthing to me and Peter, "Thank you." I turned back to Peter and my train of thought was caught for a moment by his warm eyes. His energy flowed into my chest and I was captured for a small infinity. Finally I regained focus and stated, "We're, uh, going to the Professor's house." He pulled a small contact card from his silver jacket that read: Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. "Is this it?" he questioned. "Yeah. How did you get that?" The corner of his mouth bent into a smirk, "Pickpocketed it from him when he showed up on my front porch." I laughed lightly and rolled my eyes, "Of course you did." He drove off and we zoomed down an open road toward New York. In that instant I was free. Free from guilt. Free from fear. Free from isolation. It felt as if I had died in that explosion, an old version of myself that was born from insecurity. But as I sat and stared out at the light blue and glanced at Peter racing down the highway I knew I had become someone else. I was strong. I was loved. That's all it was now. That's all I was now. Love. *
We arrived at the mansion at sunset, greeted by a tangerine sky and a burning red sun. We stepped out of the car and peered at the massive building across the trimmed fresh lawn. "Wow," Peter stated, astonished. "Yep. The Professor's pretty loaded," I said while grabbing our bags and heading toward the front entrance. We entered the main hall, floored with polished tile and embellished with a magnificent chandelier in the center of the ceiling. There were two main staircases. Peter helped Bo up each step to a room where he could rest, and I delivered all of the bags to the rooms we were staying in. And when I was finished, I collapsed onto the couch in the common room, utterly exhausted. I felt something jabbing my side and slipped my hand into the pocket of my jacket. It was a cassette. Peter's cassette. It was the one he had given me on the night of our reunion. What was it called? Jim Croce, he said it was Jim Croce. Acoustic. A rather peculiar pick for Peter. I reached into my pocket once more and pulled out my Walkman, clamping the headphones over my ears. The play button swooned downward at the pressure of my fingertip. I lightly closed my eyes, soaking in the gentleness of the guitar and Croce's voice. I melted into the image of Peter's face in my mind as the music played on.
If I could save time in a bottle, The first thing that I'd like to do, Is to save everyday 'til eternity passes away, Just to spend them with you.
But there never seems to be enough time, To do the things we wanna do, once you find them. I've looked around enough to know, That you're the one I want to go through time with.
A euphoric tear skied down the slope of my cheek and splattered across the back of my hand. It was glowing.
