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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 years

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@thecorteztwins

I wound up writing a little thing based on those panels you showed me of villains “rehabilitating” (but actually being mind-controlled) at Clear Mountain Center in X-Men 92. This was meant to be a funny story about Fabian in rehab learning how to talk to women, but it got a little disturbing because of the mind-control aspect, and also Avalanche tells a grim little story about baby murder, so warnings for that. But now I’m really tempted to write something about Haven taking the place over and actually Doing It Right.

“So,” Fabian began, speaking in the halting tones of someone attempting to wrap his mind around a difficult concept. “You’re saying you’re not attracted to me?”

“Not in the slightest,” said Tabitha Smith, the mutant known as Boomer (and also Time Bomb, Boom-boom, Meltdown, and whatever other code-name caught her fancy). Her tone was firm, but she smiled at him, as if to soften the blow. “I mean, you’re obviously good-looking, just not my type.”

“Oh, of course, you prefer women. I understand. I am open-minded about such things –“

“Nooooo…..” Boomer cut in, with some slight irritation creeping into her voice. “I’m mostly into guys. Just different types of guys.” Fabian thought hard. He was tempted to spread his legs out wider, to give her a better look at what she was rejecting, but he’d gotten enough tiny power-bombs to the crotch to learn that that was a bad idea. (The low-powered bombs did no real damage, but they certainly stung.)

“I get it, I get it. You are holding yourself back. You are maintaining a professional relationship because you are my counselor.”

“No!” Boomer held her head in her hands for a moment, sighing. “Look, not every woman will find you attractive, okay? Everyone has different preferences. Like, people think Leonard Decaprio is super-hot, and he just doesn’t do anything for me, I’m more of a Brad Pitt girl. It’s not something you need to feel bad about, it doesn’t mean you’re like, ugly, or anything like that.”

Fabian’s mind whirled. This girl was young, beautiful, a powerful mutant, and had showed him such kindness as his mentor. She had a surprising amount of wisdom underneath her shallow and flippant demeanor. And yet, her judgement was so unsound. Perhaps she had some kind of psychological condition, like a strange form of face-blindness? But then, Fabian had been learning to accept many ideas that had previously seemed impossible. The idea of living with the humans in peace. The idea of answering hatred with understanding, not violence. The idea that he should treat others with kindness and respect, instead using them as stepping stones in his quest for status and power.

“Very well,” Fabian began again. It was difficult to force the words out. “I…accept that you do not find me attractive. I….accept that some people…..may….not find me attractive. After all, there are many different preferences in this world.”

“Yeah, dude, exactly. It’s like…some people like Cool Ranch Doritos? And some people prefer Nacho Cheese. There’s no right or wrong, except for the people who like Funyuns, because that shit is nasty.” Fabian wanted to roll at his eyes at her rather low class tastes, but instead he found himself laughing good-naturedly.

“Ha, ha, yes, that is a funny joke,” he said, beaming. It was strange. His mind felt so….slow. Like there was this weight pressing down in it. But at the same time, it was oddly pleasant. A bit like Anne Marie’s more enthusiastic hugs, which always threatened to break the recipient’s back.

“In Spain we have jamon flavored potato chips. Perhaps you would find them interesting to try. I will bring some back the next time I visit home.” He did not add that he had never eaten those chips, they were junk food for peasants, but if this girl found them enjoyable, he would indulge her. It was a nice thing to do, and he found that he wanted to be nice lately. He didn’t entirely understand why.

“Oh dude, that would be amazing!” Boomer exclaimed. “I love trying junk food from other countries. There’s so much cool stuff out there. Did you know that they have, like, a whole ton of Kit-Kat flavors in Japan?”

I don’t care, Fabian wanted to say. I spent my time in Japan eating Kobe beef and blue-fin tuna, not wasting my money on cheap candy.

“No, I didn’t know that,” he said aloud instead. He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t intended to sound so interested, but his mouth and brain did not seem properly connected. The pleasant feeling hung over him, almost suffocating.

“OMG, there are like, so many! There’s strawberry, and sweet potato, and soy sauce, and wasabi – which is like, better than you’d expect – and sake, and…”

Fabian wanted to tell her to stop prattling, but he couldn’t quite find the words. He looked around the outdoor area while she rambled on. There was Blob pruning rhododendron bushes with Storm, the blossoms tiny in his huge, clumsy hands.

“….and blueberry cheesecake, and apple pie, and brown sugar syrup, and cantaloupe which sounds totally disgusting but apparently it’s pretty good, and…”

The Kleinstock brothers and Frenzy were tossing a Frisbee around with Feral and Cannonball, while Vertigo and Arclight were playing scrabble with Polaris and Multiple Man. Ruckus was strumming a guitar, pausing occasionally to sweep his hair back dramatically, and clearly looking around for an audience. Ugh, he was singing “One Tin Soldier.” Fabian hated that song. Fabian hated……a lot of things that were happening at that moment.

“….and maple, and pumpkin, and chestnut, and green tea, and Tokyo Banana, because apparently that’s a thing, and..”

He hated listening to this stupid girl spew out every thought in her empty brain. He hated sitting in group therapy and listening to the peons that he shared the facility with whining about their inconsequential problems. He hated having to hug people. He hated being stuck in this adult daycare while he should be leading his Acolytes to victory against humankind (and racking up a few kill points for the Upstarts while he was at it.) Something in his mind was breaking free.

“Enough!” he snapped, jumping to his feet. “This isn’t right! I shouldn’t be here!” Boomer paused in her Kit-Kat flavor recital.

“Whoa, dude. Chill out. You need a time-out, or something? Maybe you need some time in the Angry Room.”

“No, I do not need some time in the Angry Room,” Fabian snarled. “I don’t belong here with the rest of these losers, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’m….I’m so much better than the rest of you. I’m practically a god! I should be….should be –“ His eyebrow twitched. His body shuddered, and a fixed grin came over his face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying things like that. What am I thinking? We’re all special in our own way. I just want us all to be friends,” Fabian continued. A single tear leaked out of one corner of his eye.

“Hey, good job, man,” said Boomer, patting him on the shoulder. “You recognized a negative thought pattern, and then, like, stopped it. That totally deserves a Hershey Kiss.” She tossed him the silver wrapped chocolate.

“Thank you.” Fabian shuddered again, and then his body seemed to relax, his tense smile softening into one that seemed genuine, if a bit dazed. “I like Hershey Kisses.”

“Don’t we all, buddy.”

“They are good,” Fabian continued, pulling the foil off and popping the chocolate in his mouth absent-mindedly. “This place is a good place. We are all good here.”

At the table, another group was mid-way through a fairly intense game of Uno. Most of the group (X-Men included), would have preferred poker, but apparently that wasn’t wholesome enough the rehabilitation process.

“I’m just saying, we didn’t start the war.” Avalanche slapped down a card, perhaps slightly too hard. “Humans want to stomp out anyone who’s different. That’s the whole damn history of the human race.”

“But nothing will change if we continue the cycle of violence,” argued Colossus.

“We must ‘turn the other cheek,’” agreed Nightcrawler. “Send out a message of peace and love.” He betrayed that sentiment by tossing down a Draw Four card.

“Yeah, and the guy that did that got nailed to a cross, didn’t he?” Avalanche retorted. “Didn’t work out so well for him.”

“You can’t be expecting us to imitate Christ, can ya?” Pyro put in, throwing a Reverse on the stack. “He was all flawless and perfect and ‘ineffable,’ right? And he had a get-out-of-death-free card. We ain’t got that.”

“You could have that, by the Grace of God –“ Nightcrawler began, than stopped, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, this is not the right place for that conversation. I know religion is very personal, and everyone must make their own choices. But I will talk about it with any of you privately, if you want.”

“All I’m saying is, humans have tried to bloody kill us,” Pyro continued. “Are we supposed to just lie down and take it? I’ve had people turn on me, even back before the Brotherhood, before I committed any crimes. People that I thought I could trust.” The cards in his hand crumpled as his fist clenched.

“Humans are fucking brutal. I’ve seen…..” Avalanche shook his head. “There was a woman back on Kalymnos, gave birth to a baby with gills. Nothing wrong with the kid otherwise, it was just a cute baby. But people acted like it was the damn anti-Christ. Her husband moved out and wouldn’t have anything to do with her. And one day….” A slight tremor rippled across the table as he continued. “One day some guy just snatched the baby out of her arms and threw it down on the rocks. I’ll never forget how she screamed. And nothing ever happened to the guy. He was a murderer, and the police did nothing. Everyone just pretended that it never happened –“ The table shook visibly now, the vibrations spreading out into the ground around them.

“Tovarish, please calm down. I understand how that memory must pain you, but –“

The vibrations suddenly stopped. For a moment, Avalanche looked confused, then a dull smile spread across his face.

“I’m sorry, friends. I just get upset sometimes, thinking about that. I shouldn’t dwell on such horrible memories.”

“Yes, we should just think about good things,” Pyro agreed, wearing the same sickly smile. “We are in a good place. We are all good here.”

Sitting in the sun on the roof, Toad wrapped his arms around himself, smiling. He felt….good. For the first time that he could remember, he was entirely at peace with himself. He wasn’t plagued with anxiety at every social interaction, waiting for the inevitable rejection, wasn’t miserable when he looked into the mirror. No more flashbacks or sudden fits of sadness or anger. He woke up and was actually eager to get out of bed in the morning, eager for a day that he knew would bring good things. And people were actually being nice to him! There was no superficial politeness or poorly hidden disgust, no cheap pity. Just genuine kindness. His counselors and the other former super-villains actually seemed glad to see him every day.

Of course, sometimes it felt too good to be true. Sometimes he would look around and everything would feel slightly off, like one of those hyper-realistic dreams where you can only tell that you’re dreaming because something in your room is out of place. He felt like he was constantly wrapped in a blanket of warm air, and it was so good and comforting, but it made him dull and sleepy. (Perhaps this was what being drunk was supposed to be like? For the normal people? When Toad tried alcohol, it only seemed to make him sad.) Things were very hazy, and it was hard to put his thoughts together. But that didn’t matter, did it? Because finally he was safe and happy, and everyone was so nice.

“This is a good place,” he said aloud to no one in particular. “We are all good here.”

#fabian cortez #dominic petros #avalanche #pyro #st. john allerdyce #toad #mortimer toynbee

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