Shades of Green (Part 4/?), A:tS/X-men
Jun. 12th, 2005 02:28 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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crossoverficTitle: Shades of Green
Author: Gaeriel Mallory
Fandoms: Angel the Series/X-men (movieverse)
Rating: PG for this part, PG-13 overall
Warnings: None
Character(s): Ororo, Lorne, Scott
Summary: Lorne finds himself involved with a new group of Champions.
POV: Ororo Munroe
I woke up to a hesitant knock. Rolling out of bed, I pulled on a robe over my nightgown, tying it tightly as I walked barefoot to the door. I wasn’t surprised and this wasn’t the first time I had been woken up by one of the younger students who suffered from nightmares. It had gotten more frequent though since the attack. I know the other adults had also become confidants to the students, dryer of tears and bedtime story tellers. Even gruff Logan had been found asleep in the front of the television, surrounded by students watching Saturday morning cartoons.
My nighttime visitor was Sarah, a ten-year-old who had manifested early. She had the ability to manipulate water and her powers had emerged at the local pool when her younger brother had nearly drowned last summer. She had saved her brother’s life and her parents had enrolled her at Xavier’s.
Sarah chewed nervously on her brown hair and stared up at me. “Miss Munroe,” she whispered, “I had a bad dream. The soldiers had come back.”
I smiled reassuringly at her and reached out my hand for her to take. “Everything’s fine, Sarah. There are no soldiers. Let’s get you some warm milk from the kitchen, hmm?”
We walked down the deserted hallway and descended the stairs to the main level. The kitchen was not normally open to students but the teachers were allowed to raid the fridge when they wished. The cook had just requested that we clean up after ourselves and to not eat anything clearly labeled as off-limits. I was surprised to find the kitchen already occupied. Scott and Lorne were sitting at the table, talking over sandwiches.
They both turned at our entrance. Sarah hid shyly behind me, her eyes large as she stared at the green stranger she had seen earlier today at lunch. Lorne smiled gently and leaned forward on the table. “Hey there, sweetheart. You look hungry. How about I make you something to eat?”
I smothered a laugh as Sarah pulled even further back behind me. Scott grinned at me and got up to go to the fridge. “I think she needs something else, Lorne. The cure for bad dreams, insomnia, and all that ails you.” He flashed a smile at Sarah as he pulled out a carton of milk and set it on the counter. He then took a saucepan off the rack on the wall.
Lorne walked up and gently pushed Scott aside. “Hey, I was the one who made the offer. I should do the cooking. You go sit down.” He then turned towards the stove, pointedly ignoring Scott as he poured milk into the pan and turned on the burner.
I sat down at the table and pulled Sarah into my lap. She leaned back against me and closed her eyes. My hand absentmindedly stroked her hair. “You’re up late,” I said to Scott.
He fiddled with the crusts of bread lying on his plate. “Lorne and I were swapping stories.” He seemed to be looking at me but from long practice, I knew he was actually staring at a point above my head. Most people find it hard to look past the red shades which mask his face but I’ve known him for years. I let whatever he was hiding drop and instead focused on the child in my arms. Sarah wasn’t sleeping; she was still too tense. I sighed and wondered how many other students were still having nightmares. The older ones were more reluctant to come to the teachers but I doubt that they managed to escape bad dreams and flashbacks.
Lorne walked back to the table, a mug of warmed milk in his hand. I gently nudged Sarah as he placed it in front of my seat. He grinned amiably at her. “Go on. I added something extra to it.”
She ducked her head and smiled at the general direction of his legs. I chuckled as Sarah took a cautious sip of the drink. She looked up at surprise at the green demon. “It’s good!”
He laughed. “A little cinnamon and vanilla. It’s the same that I put into—” He stopped talking, a perplexed look on his face.
“Lorne?” I asked softly.
He shook his head. “Nothing. For a second there, I remembered taking care of a baby but that’s crazy. I’ve never even held a baby in my life.”
Scott placed a hand on Lorne’s shoulder. I stared at the bewildered look on his green face and felt a stab of sympathy. Lorne had gone through just as much as we have recently – more, even. From what he had told us, his memories might have been as messed up as Logan’s, with his constant dealings with magics and magic-users.
* * *
Lorne’s POV:
When Ororo walked in, little girl in tow, Scott and I had been trading stories of that day. It was a different day for each of us, but in our minds, we each considered it that day. It had been the day where our lives had changed. For me, it was when Angel put his plan to take out the Circle of the Black Thorn into motion and I was given the task of killing Lindsay after Sahvrin was dead. For Scott, it was when Jean ran off the Blackbird and held back the tidal wave.
We had faced challenges before and overcome them. I suppose that over time, we can overcome these as well. For now, however, we allowed ourselves to wallow in our grief, our loneliness, and our regret. Before that day, we had held onto whatever innocence we could in our hearts. After, that innocence was gone.
As I was heating up the milk for Sarah’s late-night snack, a strong sense of déjà vu attacked me and I blinked hard. I automatically reached for the cinnamon and vanilla from the spice rack and even looked around for a baby bottle before catching myself. Watching Sarah drink her milk, I remembered a baby – a boy? – whom I had fed and taken care of. The memories were hazy and I struggled to complete the scene.
Ororo’s voice and Scott’s hand on my shoulder brought me back into the present and I smiled shakily. Sarah obliviously finished her mug of milk and set it on the table, the skin above her upper lip coated in white. I reached over and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “There you go. Feel better?” I asked her, ignoring the worried glances the other two were throwing at each other.
Sarah nodded and when I held out a hand, she slid off Ororo’s lap and clambered into my own. Ah, the fickleness of children. “Did you have bad dreams?” I asked her quietly. Her head nodded against my chest. “Do you want to tell me about them?” She shook her head. I patted her back. “Well, that’s fine too. Though if you change your mind, I’ll be here to listen.”
“Okay,” her voice whispered softly against the cloth of my shirt.
I gently rocked her and sang a lullaby. Again, the déjà vu hit again but I pushed it back. I could figured everything out later, possibly tomorrow, after I had settled into the mansion and slept some more.
Ororo carefully disentangled the sleeping Sarah from me and picked her up in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered to me.
I smiled back. “You’re welcome,” I answered her, just as softly. Scott and I watched as she left the kitchen. A few hummed bars of the song I had sung Sarah to sleep with wafted back towards me. I wished my powers came with an on/off switch, especially when I was surrounded by a bunch of Champions who were apt to sing or hum or even whistle absentmindedly as they go about their day.
She was dressed in a leather catsuit, cloth flapping from her arms, and she was flying through the air, her eyes as white as her hair. Beneath her, a large lake stretched itself on the landscape. She faltered as a shape became apparent underneath the surface of the water, a giant bird-shaped creature colored red-orange. “Jean?” she breathed before she started falling downwards.
Ororo’s screams echoed in my ears as I took a deep breath. Scott was looking at me, his head slightly tilted. “What is it?” he asked.
I shook my head and stood up, using my hands to shakily support my weight. “It’s nothing,” I lied. Sometimes, I picked up very clear linear futures from people. This guy is going to win the lottery next week; this one will get run over by a car tomorrow. Other times, it’s not so understandable. “Damn Powers,” I muttered as I placed my plate and Sarah’s mug into the dishwasher. The saucepan got placed into the sink and I turned on the faucet. “You ever ask yourself ‘Why you?’ Why somebody up there decided that we were the ones to be given special abilities and then put into situations to use them?” I scrubbed with more fervor than necessary and set the pan into the drying rack.
“It’s hard,” Scott answered, “being different. It doesn’t matter if you’re a mutant, or just the awkward kid in the corner of the classroom. You’re always going to be different and no matter how much you try, you can’t change yourself without losing who you are.” He shrugged at me. “I tell my students to embrace their differences. They’re unique and special because of what they can do. And much of the point is that if you’re different, and especially if you have powers, then you have a duty to help others who might feel outcast too.”
“And what about the rest of humanity?” I asked. “I worked at an evil law firm. I saw the worst that humans – all beings, actually – have to offer.”
“All life is precious.” Scott grabbed his plate and glass and joined me by the sink. He put his dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “If you start making distinctions over who deserves to live and who deserves to die, then you’re no better than the people you’re fighting against.” He sighed and rubbed a hand against his face. “Though if you had asked me at the time if Stryker should die, I would have answered yes.”
“In my previous line of work, we killed, though Lindsay was the first I killed personally. Angel, Wesley, Gunn – they were fighters and they went out to hunt demons and vampires.” I laughed softly. “Helping the hopeless. You know, it’s strange. We saved humans and protected them. Demons, however, they were evil...unless they weren’t. There are certain species of demons that aren’t any more evil than humans, but kneejerk reaction is ‘slay first, ask questions later.’”
“If you see someone in trouble, you save them. That’s what you do. Doesn’t matter what they look like.” Scott shook his head. “This is too deep for this late. I’m heading up to bed.”
As he was leaving, I called out his name, intending to tell him what I had seen from Ororo’s humming. “Scott—”
He turned. “Yeah?”
I sighed and looked down. “Sleep well.”
“Yeah. You too.” He waved and disappeared out of the room, leaving me leaning up against the counter alone with my thoughts. I had never before questioned what Angel Investigations had done. It was generally acknowledged that there were neutral demons and even good demons. Demon was just a term used to refer to any sentient being who wasn’t human. Yet, when it came down to it, demons bad and humans good was how the world was broken up, despite Angel being a vampire and myself.
What did Angel make of me, the first time he met me? What did he make of Caritas with its mixed clientele and its non-violence wards? I remembered when Gunn’s gang had taken my club hostage and Gunn had betrayed his reservations of working with a vampire. Demon bad. Human good.
Sarah, who was ten, was more accepting of me than most humans. Was it age or the fact she was surrounded by “specials?”
And what the hell was my role in this? I knew there was a good chance I’d dream of falling tonight, with Ororo screaming in the background. Still, I turned off the kitchen light and headed upstairs. The bed was soft and the sheets were clean; despite not waking until noon, I fell asleep quickly.
Instead of falling, I dreamt I was walking in the deserted hallways of Wolfram and Hart. I found myself in the White Room where the Senior Partners had communicated with us. Footsteps sounded behind me and I turned, expecting – what?
Certainly not this. Cordelia walked towards me and gently gave me a hug. “You look like hell,” she told me. Her eyes were sad.
“Did the Powers send you?”
She nodded. “I asked to be the one. I wanted you to hear this from a friend.”
I closed my eyes. “Angel. Did they...?” I let my voice trail off.
She shook her head. “Some. I can’t tell you who came out of the battle though. The Powers wanted you to focus on your new life and leave your old one behind for now. You need to get settled, get comfortable at Xavier’s.”
“Cordy – Why mutants? Why not another group of demon hunters?”
“That’s already being taken care of in spades. For now, at least, there are enough Champions on that front. They want you to focus on another battle. These people are like you, right now: broken. You have to help fix each other before you can move on.”
“Move on? To where?”
She smiled, a hint of the old Cordy coming through. “You’ll see. And despite your vision earlier, it’s going to be all right in the end.” She touched my forehead. “I’m going to let you remember, now. The spell was already breaking down but I’m going to speed it up. This is something you should know and it was never fair for Angel to take it away in the first place.”
Connor. The name came back to me and my eyes snapped open. “That son of a bitch!” I growled.
--End Part 4--
Author: Gaeriel Mallory
Fandoms: Angel the Series/X-men (movieverse)
Rating: PG for this part, PG-13 overall
Warnings: None
Character(s): Ororo, Lorne, Scott
Summary: Lorne finds himself involved with a new group of Champions.
POV: Ororo Munroe
I woke up to a hesitant knock. Rolling out of bed, I pulled on a robe over my nightgown, tying it tightly as I walked barefoot to the door. I wasn’t surprised and this wasn’t the first time I had been woken up by one of the younger students who suffered from nightmares. It had gotten more frequent though since the attack. I know the other adults had also become confidants to the students, dryer of tears and bedtime story tellers. Even gruff Logan had been found asleep in the front of the television, surrounded by students watching Saturday morning cartoons.
My nighttime visitor was Sarah, a ten-year-old who had manifested early. She had the ability to manipulate water and her powers had emerged at the local pool when her younger brother had nearly drowned last summer. She had saved her brother’s life and her parents had enrolled her at Xavier’s.
Sarah chewed nervously on her brown hair and stared up at me. “Miss Munroe,” she whispered, “I had a bad dream. The soldiers had come back.”
I smiled reassuringly at her and reached out my hand for her to take. “Everything’s fine, Sarah. There are no soldiers. Let’s get you some warm milk from the kitchen, hmm?”
We walked down the deserted hallway and descended the stairs to the main level. The kitchen was not normally open to students but the teachers were allowed to raid the fridge when they wished. The cook had just requested that we clean up after ourselves and to not eat anything clearly labeled as off-limits. I was surprised to find the kitchen already occupied. Scott and Lorne were sitting at the table, talking over sandwiches.
They both turned at our entrance. Sarah hid shyly behind me, her eyes large as she stared at the green stranger she had seen earlier today at lunch. Lorne smiled gently and leaned forward on the table. “Hey there, sweetheart. You look hungry. How about I make you something to eat?”
I smothered a laugh as Sarah pulled even further back behind me. Scott grinned at me and got up to go to the fridge. “I think she needs something else, Lorne. The cure for bad dreams, insomnia, and all that ails you.” He flashed a smile at Sarah as he pulled out a carton of milk and set it on the counter. He then took a saucepan off the rack on the wall.
Lorne walked up and gently pushed Scott aside. “Hey, I was the one who made the offer. I should do the cooking. You go sit down.” He then turned towards the stove, pointedly ignoring Scott as he poured milk into the pan and turned on the burner.
I sat down at the table and pulled Sarah into my lap. She leaned back against me and closed her eyes. My hand absentmindedly stroked her hair. “You’re up late,” I said to Scott.
He fiddled with the crusts of bread lying on his plate. “Lorne and I were swapping stories.” He seemed to be looking at me but from long practice, I knew he was actually staring at a point above my head. Most people find it hard to look past the red shades which mask his face but I’ve known him for years. I let whatever he was hiding drop and instead focused on the child in my arms. Sarah wasn’t sleeping; she was still too tense. I sighed and wondered how many other students were still having nightmares. The older ones were more reluctant to come to the teachers but I doubt that they managed to escape bad dreams and flashbacks.
Lorne walked back to the table, a mug of warmed milk in his hand. I gently nudged Sarah as he placed it in front of my seat. He grinned amiably at her. “Go on. I added something extra to it.”
She ducked her head and smiled at the general direction of his legs. I chuckled as Sarah took a cautious sip of the drink. She looked up at surprise at the green demon. “It’s good!”
He laughed. “A little cinnamon and vanilla. It’s the same that I put into—” He stopped talking, a perplexed look on his face.
“Lorne?” I asked softly.
He shook his head. “Nothing. For a second there, I remembered taking care of a baby but that’s crazy. I’ve never even held a baby in my life.”
Scott placed a hand on Lorne’s shoulder. I stared at the bewildered look on his green face and felt a stab of sympathy. Lorne had gone through just as much as we have recently – more, even. From what he had told us, his memories might have been as messed up as Logan’s, with his constant dealings with magics and magic-users.
* * *
Lorne’s POV:
When Ororo walked in, little girl in tow, Scott and I had been trading stories of that day. It was a different day for each of us, but in our minds, we each considered it that day. It had been the day where our lives had changed. For me, it was when Angel put his plan to take out the Circle of the Black Thorn into motion and I was given the task of killing Lindsay after Sahvrin was dead. For Scott, it was when Jean ran off the Blackbird and held back the tidal wave.
We had faced challenges before and overcome them. I suppose that over time, we can overcome these as well. For now, however, we allowed ourselves to wallow in our grief, our loneliness, and our regret. Before that day, we had held onto whatever innocence we could in our hearts. After, that innocence was gone.
As I was heating up the milk for Sarah’s late-night snack, a strong sense of déjà vu attacked me and I blinked hard. I automatically reached for the cinnamon and vanilla from the spice rack and even looked around for a baby bottle before catching myself. Watching Sarah drink her milk, I remembered a baby – a boy? – whom I had fed and taken care of. The memories were hazy and I struggled to complete the scene.
Ororo’s voice and Scott’s hand on my shoulder brought me back into the present and I smiled shakily. Sarah obliviously finished her mug of milk and set it on the table, the skin above her upper lip coated in white. I reached over and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “There you go. Feel better?” I asked her, ignoring the worried glances the other two were throwing at each other.
Sarah nodded and when I held out a hand, she slid off Ororo’s lap and clambered into my own. Ah, the fickleness of children. “Did you have bad dreams?” I asked her quietly. Her head nodded against my chest. “Do you want to tell me about them?” She shook her head. I patted her back. “Well, that’s fine too. Though if you change your mind, I’ll be here to listen.”
“Okay,” her voice whispered softly against the cloth of my shirt.
I gently rocked her and sang a lullaby. Again, the déjà vu hit again but I pushed it back. I could figured everything out later, possibly tomorrow, after I had settled into the mansion and slept some more.
Ororo carefully disentangled the sleeping Sarah from me and picked her up in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered to me.
I smiled back. “You’re welcome,” I answered her, just as softly. Scott and I watched as she left the kitchen. A few hummed bars of the song I had sung Sarah to sleep with wafted back towards me. I wished my powers came with an on/off switch, especially when I was surrounded by a bunch of Champions who were apt to sing or hum or even whistle absentmindedly as they go about their day.
She was dressed in a leather catsuit, cloth flapping from her arms, and she was flying through the air, her eyes as white as her hair. Beneath her, a large lake stretched itself on the landscape. She faltered as a shape became apparent underneath the surface of the water, a giant bird-shaped creature colored red-orange. “Jean?” she breathed before she started falling downwards.
Ororo’s screams echoed in my ears as I took a deep breath. Scott was looking at me, his head slightly tilted. “What is it?” he asked.
I shook my head and stood up, using my hands to shakily support my weight. “It’s nothing,” I lied. Sometimes, I picked up very clear linear futures from people. This guy is going to win the lottery next week; this one will get run over by a car tomorrow. Other times, it’s not so understandable. “Damn Powers,” I muttered as I placed my plate and Sarah’s mug into the dishwasher. The saucepan got placed into the sink and I turned on the faucet. “You ever ask yourself ‘Why you?’ Why somebody up there decided that we were the ones to be given special abilities and then put into situations to use them?” I scrubbed with more fervor than necessary and set the pan into the drying rack.
“It’s hard,” Scott answered, “being different. It doesn’t matter if you’re a mutant, or just the awkward kid in the corner of the classroom. You’re always going to be different and no matter how much you try, you can’t change yourself without losing who you are.” He shrugged at me. “I tell my students to embrace their differences. They’re unique and special because of what they can do. And much of the point is that if you’re different, and especially if you have powers, then you have a duty to help others who might feel outcast too.”
“And what about the rest of humanity?” I asked. “I worked at an evil law firm. I saw the worst that humans – all beings, actually – have to offer.”
“All life is precious.” Scott grabbed his plate and glass and joined me by the sink. He put his dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “If you start making distinctions over who deserves to live and who deserves to die, then you’re no better than the people you’re fighting against.” He sighed and rubbed a hand against his face. “Though if you had asked me at the time if Stryker should die, I would have answered yes.”
“In my previous line of work, we killed, though Lindsay was the first I killed personally. Angel, Wesley, Gunn – they were fighters and they went out to hunt demons and vampires.” I laughed softly. “Helping the hopeless. You know, it’s strange. We saved humans and protected them. Demons, however, they were evil...unless they weren’t. There are certain species of demons that aren’t any more evil than humans, but kneejerk reaction is ‘slay first, ask questions later.’”
“If you see someone in trouble, you save them. That’s what you do. Doesn’t matter what they look like.” Scott shook his head. “This is too deep for this late. I’m heading up to bed.”
As he was leaving, I called out his name, intending to tell him what I had seen from Ororo’s humming. “Scott—”
He turned. “Yeah?”
I sighed and looked down. “Sleep well.”
“Yeah. You too.” He waved and disappeared out of the room, leaving me leaning up against the counter alone with my thoughts. I had never before questioned what Angel Investigations had done. It was generally acknowledged that there were neutral demons and even good demons. Demon was just a term used to refer to any sentient being who wasn’t human. Yet, when it came down to it, demons bad and humans good was how the world was broken up, despite Angel being a vampire and myself.
What did Angel make of me, the first time he met me? What did he make of Caritas with its mixed clientele and its non-violence wards? I remembered when Gunn’s gang had taken my club hostage and Gunn had betrayed his reservations of working with a vampire. Demon bad. Human good.
Sarah, who was ten, was more accepting of me than most humans. Was it age or the fact she was surrounded by “specials?”
And what the hell was my role in this? I knew there was a good chance I’d dream of falling tonight, with Ororo screaming in the background. Still, I turned off the kitchen light and headed upstairs. The bed was soft and the sheets were clean; despite not waking until noon, I fell asleep quickly.
Instead of falling, I dreamt I was walking in the deserted hallways of Wolfram and Hart. I found myself in the White Room where the Senior Partners had communicated with us. Footsteps sounded behind me and I turned, expecting – what?
Certainly not this. Cordelia walked towards me and gently gave me a hug. “You look like hell,” she told me. Her eyes were sad.
“Did the Powers send you?”
She nodded. “I asked to be the one. I wanted you to hear this from a friend.”
I closed my eyes. “Angel. Did they...?” I let my voice trail off.
She shook her head. “Some. I can’t tell you who came out of the battle though. The Powers wanted you to focus on your new life and leave your old one behind for now. You need to get settled, get comfortable at Xavier’s.”
“Cordy – Why mutants? Why not another group of demon hunters?”
“That’s already being taken care of in spades. For now, at least, there are enough Champions on that front. They want you to focus on another battle. These people are like you, right now: broken. You have to help fix each other before you can move on.”
“Move on? To where?”
She smiled, a hint of the old Cordy coming through. “You’ll see. And despite your vision earlier, it’s going to be all right in the end.” She touched my forehead. “I’m going to let you remember, now. The spell was already breaking down but I’m going to speed it up. This is something you should know and it was never fair for Angel to take it away in the first place.”
Connor. The name came back to me and my eyes snapped open. “That son of a bitch!” I growled.
--End Part 4--
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