What Has Happened and What Must - Post 7
Once inside the compound, Kitty Pryde was able to phase through wall after wall, searching, screaming for her friend Rachel. And Gambit, she supposed, only what was he doing here? Just keep going, room to room, each one filled with more bizarre instruments, test tubes, computers, so many computers, some rooms ruined, some in pristine condition. She
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The words of Martin Luther echo in my head more frequently these past few days. I am becoming more and more aware of my abilities, becoming more aware of the Holy Spirit around me.
The day of Rogue's arrival finally came. My last phone call on my cell was to Rogue when she arrived at the airport. I met her in the main terminal. I was trying to stay as far as possible from security gates and officers, etc. Sentinels didn't frequent the airports because they were too large and cause great inconveniences to travelers through extreme anxiety and odd radio frequencies that mess with the control towers. Whatever the other reasons were, I didn't particularly care. They weren't there. A+. I was on full alert. I wore sunglasses just in case I couldn't hold the threshold between awareness and full out flourescent blue eyes. Once I saw Rogue walk around the corner toward the exits, I ran to her. 10 days ago she was just a client that I worked closely with. Now I felt like she was a long, lost friend. I hugged her; any on-looker would have thought we were sisters reuniting. She was surprised, but hugged back. For a quick second, I felt the greatest relief in the world. I had someone here with me, who I knew was on my side. I could trust her, because she trusted me. She was confused for sure, and had a lot of questions to ask, but I told her we'd talk later. Although without realizing it, I told her telepathically, forgetting that she had no idea exactly what mutations I have. She flipped out. She turned around in circles, looking everywhere to find out who had "spoke" to her. Her mind was racing over someone named Jean Grey and a Professor Xavier.
"Rogue!"
I grabbed ahold of her shoulders and looked into her eyes.
"It's me, it's alright. Sorry, I should have mentioned that earlier."
"Gwynne, oh m'god..."
I pulled her towards the exit and out to the closest taxi. As we were putting her luggage in the trunk, a thought brushed past me. I looked around, trying to not look like I was suspicious. Someone was watching us alright, a woman, curious and worried. I couldn't tell if she meant ill or not, but I made a mental note to mention it to Rogue when we got back to the "apartment". I use that term loosely.
Whatever "apartment" is. It's a humble squatters building. I arranged an area on the 4th floor in the NW corner. It's a little apt-like area. Hard to explain. I've blocked all the windows with thick curtains and patched up the walls so they'd look hospitable. There's a bathroom, which tells me this was an apt building or some sort of office at one time...though one could hardly tell. I'm working on it from the inside anyway. We arrived about 15 minutes later and headed inside. Rogue went up the stairs ahead of me.
"well well, this ain't where I expected a lawyer'd be livin'."
"Ha, I agree, but it has no paper trail, which is probably the least of our worries, but one less worry to have...
By the way, I noticed somethin odd at the airport, do you know if anyone followed you from Chicago, or anyone you encountered on the plane, talked to?"
"Nah, I slept most the way, never liked planes..,"
Then she whispered softly, "I can fly, ya know."
"Really?!"
I was dumbfounded, had no idea that was a possible mutation. But then she explained to me that really her mutation is the ability to absorb life forces from others. Flying was just something she acquired along the way. She didn't want to continue. Intense sorrow came over her, and she grew quiet. We got upstairs and situated her bags in her corner of the loft-esque apt.
As she was unpacking, I walked over to my bed and sat down. I could feel the presence of God all around me, letting me know that this was the right thing to do. This was where I needed to be. I could feel my awareness rise and then subside as quickly as I exhaled. Here I am still writing, sitting on my bed. I must be God's arm on earth it seems. Something like that anyway. I lower my head and remember Martin Luther's words as if I heard him speak yesterday. Here I stand, I can do no other, so help me God.
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