Work Text:
And you stand all alone
With your world falling down
And you stare out your window
And you cry
- Beautiful Homes
Chris Isaak
It wasn't always this way.
I know some days it's hard to believe, especially for the little ones, but there was a time when the backfield wasn’t littered with stone markers. A time when the woods and the rest of the green stuff wasn't overgrown. A time when you could walk around the Manse and not jump at shadows, or be afraid of running into The Goddess or The Professor or any of The Others. There was even a time when Hank didn't spend all his time in the lab.
Okay, so that last one's not true. Hank always spent all his time in the lab. But the other things… Hell some days even I have a hard time believing it was different, and I've been here, like, forever.
I shouldn't be here though, at this window with the curtains open. They like to keep the house dark and us 'kids' aren't allowed on this floor. If one of them catches me…well, it's best not to take that chance.
So, I'll just tuck into the window seat and pull the drapes closed behind me. There, nice and cozy, right?
Yeah, right.
Thank God the sun's out, I don't think I could stand it if I'd come all the way up here and it was cloudy. Hmm, maybe I should thank The Goddess instead. Chuck must've done her good last night. Shit, I thought listening to the Unholy Trio was bad, Chuck and Storm have them beat hands down.
No pun intended.
Yeah, we know what goes on around here. We're not stupid, we have eyes and ears. And it's not like they make much of an effort to hide it.
Bobby's at Marie's graveside again, poor kid. Yeah, yeah, I know he's a little older but, he's really not, ya know? He came here so innocent, with all these idealistic dreams about saving the world and being a hero. Now this Virus comes along and he's forced to watch his teachers, his role models, change and become…well… is monsters too harsh a word?
John's somewhat better. He's so laid back most of the time that I don't think anything really bothers him. If it does, he doesn't show me. I do know that he spends a lot more time in the gym though, working the heavy bag, and I've seen him wandering through the graveyard a few times.
Me? Well, after nearly two years on the street I had few illusions left to shatter, so, ya know, they all kind of looked to me to show them the way. Which, since I'm being honest here, didn't really surprise me that much; I'd seen quite a bit living on the streets and hanging around the Wolvster. But I never thought I'd see Wolvie like this. I hardly recognize him, and I wonder sometimes if he recognizes me.
It used to be really pretty out this way, with Storm's wildflowers in bloom and the lush grass and trees. If the boulders weren't in such neat rows, you could almost pretend it was an overgrown rock garden instead of a necropolis. Almost.
Watching our friends die from this fucking plague has been hard on all of us. I'm not the only one sneaking into the liquor cabinet. And I'm almost certain I smelled pot coming from Sam's room the other day. I wonder how he got it when we can't leave?
I wonder if he'll share?
Damn it to Hell…
I wonder if I'll ever stop bursting into spontaneous fucking tears?
Bobby says I cried a lot through the fever and everything, though I don't really remember anything from when I was that sick. I cried hard when they buried Kitty, down on my knees in the dirt. Wolvie wasn't all that sick then, and he'd held me - right there in front of everyone - while I let it all out. By the time Marie died went, he was too far gone in his own grief to be any real comfort to me. I locked myself in the room I'd shared for all those years with my two best chicas and cried myself sick. Literally. I was in the bathroom when Bobby froze the lock off the bedroom door so he and John could get in.
It's pretty much the three of us now. You can't really count Sam. He rarely leaves his room anymore, spending hours doing…I don’t know what in there. So, it's the three of us. Well, us and the kidlets. But they're too scared most of the time to leave their rooms unless one of us is with them. Can't say I blame them, it can get pretty fuckin' scary around here.
Shit…
Speaking of scary, The Wolverine's prowling the grounds again. I better get away from the window before he sees me.
The view from here sucks now anyway.