Subject: [OTL]: (Breeze Arc, Charles Lehnsherr) Paramagnetism (PG-13) Date: Sat, 8 Feb 2003 12:25:18 -0800 (PST) From: Phil Hartman will1@earthling.net Breeze: Paramagnetism by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: They belong to their owners. Don't sue. Notes at end. -------------------------------------------------------- 1/1/2003: -------------------------------------------------------- The knife-edge of the Mediterannean wind cut across his failing biomagnetic field into his numbed flesh. He didn't care. #Just don't drown,# the 14-year-old Charles Xavier Lehnsherr told himself, as he flew north from Genosha across east Africa, and now over the Mediterannean. #Just get to land.# He made it as far as the Balkans before his magnetic power cut out. #Impact instead of drowning. It'll be quicker,# the Caucasian boy thought as he fell towards the towering landmass before him. #Not sure which I deserve more -# Impact. -------------------------------------------------------- He stirred, spitting loam and a tooth out of his mouth. It was blackest night in a clearing, with pines and scrubbrush around him. "No broken bones ... how low to the ground WAS I ?" Chuck muttered, pulling his legs up under his chin. Birdsong, with the occasional animal rustling or windblown branch scratch, were the only replies. #Let's see what my EM-sight can tell me,# Chuck thought, trying to shift his perceptions to those granted him by his magnetic powers. It remained pitch-black. #Nothing. Wonder whether I used up my magnetic power when I -# The night's events slammed back into the boy's mind, making him shudder. He'd telepathically "heard" his father, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, cry out in pain when Magnus' island nation Genosha had been attacked by mutant-hunting Sentinels. Then, nothing. Until Amahl Farouk, the Shadow King, had taken advantage of Chuck's grief and fear, piercing the boy's mindshield and provoking an instinctual mental bolt. #I destroyed Farouk. Or at least tore his astral form to pieces,# Chuck realized, tearing up at another realization. #But that also triggered a massive magnetic blast that leveled the X-Mansion ... my God, what did I do ? How many people were hurt ? What if any of the other New Mutants are - or Kitty or Aaron Wisdom?# #WHAT DID I DO ?# #You screwed up. Welcome to the slippery slope,# something that might have been Chuck's conscience whispered in his mind. #Abaddon ... Abaddon, Abaddon, Abaddon ...# The taunt only prompted a whimper and pang of panic from Chuck. The Shadow King whom he'd defeated hours earlier had been from an alternate future - one where the same Farouk had corrupted an older version of Chuck into a global demagogue named - #Abaddon. The Angel of the Abyss. Dark Prince of Mutants. Warlord of a Fallen Latveria,# Chuck remembered, shivering at the not-memories he'd telepathically wrenched from his evil older self months earlier. "I never ASKED for this !" Chuck screamed. "I never asked to be the Son of Magneto, or to be some psycho maniac, or to drive Clarice Ferguson away, or to take out Farouk or the X-Mansion ! WHAT DID I DO !?" Nausea hit him then, as did something else: He could no longer even sense the not-quite-thoughts of the animal minds around him. #My - telepathy - gone TOO ?# Chuck thought, panic fighting with nausea while his blue eyes filled with tears. He shook back shaggy brown and white locks - he'd manifested his mother Rogue's trademark white forelock a month earlier - to keep from dirtying his hair, and felt bile rising up - -------------------------------------------------------- Nothing. #Empty stomach, no telepathy, no magnetokinesis, no friends, no father ...# Chuck laughed bitterly, wiping his mouth after he tried to spit the bitter taste out. He struggled to his feet, shivering in his torn T-shirt and jeans, and squinted into the rising sun. "Well, Dad, I guess you got your wish. You went and kicked that bucket of a helmet of yours, and left me with SQUAT," Chuck muttered, glaring south. "And here I thought I could try to be different than you. If I even HAVE any powers left -" Something flickered in the boy's mind. Hours of Mutagenetics 101 came boiling back up, reminding Chuck that a power replicator logically needs proximity to another parahuman or mutant to regain a given power. But repeated, long-term proximity would leave a longer "imprint," keeping the particular genes for a particular power active. #And the two people I'd been around more than any other over the last few months -# He slapped his forehead and laughed. "I'm NOT a magnakinetic. Not by nature, but by replication - I've been replicating Mom's magnetokinesis that Dad gave her to replace HER absorption power years ago !" Chuck laughed bitterly. #And the telepathy - I'd been working with Professor Xavier for months with THAT - it must've been HIS power that I replicated.# Chuck sat on a rock and shook his head. "So obvious. I've been 'super-charging' my exposure to particular powers, so of course when I don't have those powers at hand, they disappear," the boy sighed. "At least now I know that I won't go nuts from magnetic power weirdness like Dad used to." #But what to do ? Where do I go ? I can choose whatever I want to do, I guess ... I don't HAVE to be Abaddon ... but ....# A hint of woodsmoke prompted a rumble from Chuck's stomach, and he looked up to see a trail of smoke coming from further up the mountain. "There's something ..." -------------------------------------------------------- About an hour - and a few rocks in his shoes - later, Chuck came across a small wooden cabin. "Not exactly 'Pasture and Crick' standard gear," the boy observed aloud, noticing the high-tech generator attached to the side of the building. "I wonder ... Balkans, high-tech - of COURSE. "Wundagore !" He knocked on the door, smirking at his slowness to realize where he was, and beamed as a cow-headed woman in a plain dress answered. "Master Charles ! It's been so very long ! How are you ?" the midwife who had assisted at the birth of Chuck's older half-siblings, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff, said. "I'm ... my father may very well be dead, Bova. And I've had to face some ugly truths about myself," Chuck said, his shell crumbling at the sight of the compassion in Bova's eyes. "May I -?" "Of course," Bova said. She showed Chuck to a rocking chair, then poured them both some tea and served a cup to him before taking a seat on a nearby couch. "I'm truly sorry about your father. He was a decent man, despite his flaws. But you - you look like you need to talk." Chuck sipped his tea, and smiled weakly as he began to talk. Finally, after everything he'd endured over the past four months had spilled out, Chuck dabbed at his eyes with his napkin and breathed, "Pretty hypocritical, crying for myself, isn't it ?" "Don't be foolish," Bova gently reproved. She rose, taking Chuck's empty teacup and saucer, then stroked his cheek and said, "You're grieving and doing so in a positive way. Besides, do you know if anyone was actually hurt when you accidentally destroyed the X-Mansion ?" "Well - the EM pulse -" Chuck began. Bova held up one quasi-hand as she placed the dishes in the sink, then sat on the couch and motioned Chuck to sit beside her. He obeyed, morosely meeting her peaceful blue gaze, and let her speak. "You're not playing the victim anymore. That seems to have been your problem - always responding to your father's shadow, or future 'what-ifs'. But you sought help. That's a first step," Bova said gently. "Towards WHAT !?" Chuck blurted. "I have to get back to Salem Center - turn myself in to the authorities or the Professor - I have to take responsibility for the X-Mansion disaster." Bova nodded, but a hint of sadness flickered in her eyes. "As long as you're not doing it just to keep from being like your father. You've a chance to gain a clean slate, Charles - to set the past behind you as your replication power set aside your magnetic and telepathic talents," she said. Chuck smiled again, a bit more strong. "Thanks, Bova," he said, hugging her before he stood. "I'll tell Luna, Tom and Bill hello for you - and Mom, Pietro, Crystal and Wanda, of course. "But for now, it's time to go." -------------------------------------------------------- There was one last power remaining in Chuck's repertoire of replicated talents - one he'd been loath to give up. "Goodbye, Clarice," Chuck whispered, opening a teleportal from Wundagore - one to Salem Center. He waved at Bova, then stepped through the gate, and into what looked like a scene from after a future war. Silver clouds of Shi'ar nanocytes were busily humming away in the pre-dawn air, turning rubble into building materials and repairing the damage Chuck had unleashed. The tug of the teleportal faded, and with it the spatial awareness the boy had gained from replicating Clarice's power months earlier. #The less I use a power, the longer I hold onto it ?# Chuck pondered, before he turned to smile sheepishly at an approaching crowd of nervous mutants. "Hi, gang. I think I owe a LOT of people a few apologies ... ?" -------------------------------------------------------- TBC in Breeze Book 2 --------------------------------------------------------