Beyond Evolution

Her limbs were tired, her fingers ached from exhaustion. How many times had she traced the fragments of shards or bones, concentrated her powers on stopping a bleeding kidney or a ruptured lung? Her actions and concentration were natural, thoughtless. She didn't know why she had stayed in the medlabs helping out for hours. She didn't really care about these people. But it was such a wonderful feeling having this power over them, having her power back in general. For so many months she felt empty, disgustingly so. But Vanessa's grip on her slipped and now Rin was grasping her powers into strength. She would become stronger. Nothing could stop her.

Tying back her hair in a clean knot she made her way out into the grounds. The sun beat down on her uncomfortably but she merely looked up at it. She hadn't seen the sun in a long time. It was a great feeling. Even though heat tended to bother her, she would take this any day of the week than not having it at all. She breathed in and walked forward. Being locked up for months on Muir island, being drugged, and tested over and over had made her hate grow for both Vanessa and losing her freedom. She had survived death itself only to be thrown into a little cage and made into some useless human. Never again. She'd slaughter the world before that happened again.

She bent down and scooped some flowers from the garden. Her powers automatically connected with the water in the plants and instead of absorbing it, she made the flowers bend and open a bit more, flourishing in her hand. It wasn't that much longer before she made her way to the headstones, grey stones on the green grass. Browsing over them, she recognized the names easily and began walking over to her own. Laying one of the flowers down on the ground on her marker, she smiled a mocking smile. How many times had she avoided death? On the island she killed for her survival. She maimed and destroyed without her powers. She would have gotten out of the crucifixions too, but she did something stupid by pushing that kid out of the way. And even as she died, something in her knew this wasn't the end. She had been cold in the ground for a year and a half and then she awoke. She used her powers and got out of her own grave. She was new again. And even after getting caught and used by Vanessa, she had managed to slip out of her control before the others.

It was times like this that she felt absolutely unstoppable.

There was one last grave she had to visit. His was a little older than hers. Making her way lightly across the graves she found Chaz easily. She smiled down at his grave, not as mocking as she had her own but in an introspective way. He was proof that she wouldn't be stopped anymore. Bending down, she laid the flowers gently on his grave and gave the grass a little pat. She could be sentimental if she wanted be.

[Narrative or Open if anyone really wants it]

The doctors had been vague with their estimates about when and how he might regain consciousness. The extent of the injuries he had suffered during the fight in Times Square weren’t being discussed in too much length or detail, even when his wife was there and asking for answers; they went over the basics and reassured her, told her not to worry, gave her non-invasive pats on the arm or shoulder. They didn’t get bogged down in all the technical, medical jargon and language, but they went out of their way to tell anyone who came to visit that everything would be all right. “Just be patient,” they said, in the same, soothing tones. Not the most comforting response, but it was one they were sticking with, apparently.

Tobias Kierney had his own room in the ICU, along with a number of others associated with Xavier’s School for the Gifted, and it was something the staff hadn’t neglected to notice when filling out charts. It was quiet in the white room save for the beeping of the monitors, informing anyone close enough to read their displays of blood pressure and heart rate, brainwave activity, anything and everything the doctors wanted to keep an eye on; there were wires and tubes everywhere, tucked out of sight as much as possible, but there was no way to really hide them. They had stitched, bandaged or dressed as much of the injuries as they could, ensured he was no longer bleeding, and they were taking regular scans of all kinds to ensure there was no critical internal damage. There was only so much they could do with everything that had been done to him physically, but they came and went frequently, two or three times an hour, making notes and checking numbers and readouts, giving quiet, consoling smiles to whoever was present. They rarely spoke unless it was necessary.

It was in one of the windows between those visits that the monitors spiked, readings jumping from their rhythm and giving the first, subtle hint that something was happening. Everything settled immediately afterwards, like it was a glitch, like a hiccup in the wiring somewhere. Without any further warning, it happened. Tobias’ consciousness came screaming back before it was ready, before the body was prepared for it, and all he knew was agony, that something was so very, very wrong. His skull felt like it was tearing apart, everything burned, he couldn’t breathe and it was too much. It felt like an overload, like everything was crashing down on and around and inside of him all at once, and his body and brain couldn’t bear it. His eyes were still closed but it was too bright in the room, too intense, and tears streamed down the sides of his face and he struggled on the bed, fighting everything, trying to summon his voice to cry or scream against the excruciating overload but nothing came out; the tube down his throat silenced his efforts beyond a weak, wounded choke and his jaw seared in protest. God, everything hurt, so much, and he didn’t understand it. The monitors whined and beeped erratically as he struggled and fought, close to thrashing now with the powerful confusion and the desperate need to make it all stop, his arms jerked to try and grab for purchase to pull himself away from whatever was happening and the IV pole clattered and rocked, threatening to fall.

Tobias heard everything muddled together in an awful, too-loud cacophony and again he tried and failed to cry out, oblivious to the staff running in the direction of his room. Where was he? What was going on? Why did he hurt?


[ open to jo ]