From across the table Lexi studied Beast with interest as he ate his diner. She was fascinated with the way he moved ... it was so ...weird. She wondered if she could do it, she began to discretely copy his movements.
From his own side of the table, Beast glanced at her in understanding , and not a little annoyance. Ubiquitously, he reached up with his big toe to scratch his ear. The corresponding THUNK from across the table brought a small satisfied smile to his face.
Everyone briefly paused their diner conversation to watch Lexi ruefully pick herself up off the floor. Everyone except Lindsey, who was too lost in his own thoughts to notice her or the uneaten diner he was absently playing with.
"Gambit, Lindsey, " Jean glanced around, "you two are with me on kitchen duty tonight."
With the usual half - audible mumblings Gambit started gathering up the dishes around him to take back to the kitchen. Lindsey abruptly stood up, shoving his chair against the wall with a crash, causing everyone to stare at him. Hiding beneath his hair, he slowly began clearing the table with particularly bad grace.
**********************************
"And so ... " Jean was idly chatting to the Lindsey and Gambit. "Where do you think you'd like to end up Lindsey? Somehow I don't think X-Force will have you, and Generation X is a bit young, but -" Whatever else she was going to say was cut off with a crash as Lindsey dropped the plate he'd been drying. She turned and stared at him appraisingly for a moment before saying that it was an accident and not to worry about it.
Eyeing her coldly, Lindsey picked up a glass and dropped it - never taking his eyes off Jean's face.
She stared back.
Lindsey calmly reached for another.
"Stop it."
CRASH
"FINE" Jean shouted suddenly "What is it then? What is your problem?" Gambit stepped discreetly back, watching them.
"You've been sulking around this place acting like a spoiled little kid for days now. What do you want?"
Lindsey stared silently back, infuriating her.
"TALK TO ME !"
{We're not staying}
"Pardon ?" Jean knew he had said something, but he hadn't sent it properly, she hadn't caught it. Gambit shifted imperceptible.
Lindsey glared. He hated it. Hated everything. Nothing worked - he couldn't do it. Always too soft, too loud, too much , too little.
He signed furiously, his long fingers flashing [I WANT TO GO HOME]
Jean gave Gambit a perplexed look, he shrugged.
"Lindsey, you _know_ we don't understand sign language."
[I WANT TO GO HOME] He signed it again violently, ignoring her.
"We don't understand."
There was a crash as Lindsey shattered another glass.
"STOP IT"
Jean gripped his wrists, shaking him "STOP IT". He did, just staring at her with wide blue eyes.
"Now " She continued. "Calm down, concentrate - tell me what you want to say."
Lindsey closed his eyes {I. WANT. TO. GO. HOME.} He opened them again as Jean stepped back.
"Oh Lindsey " Jean didn't know how to tell him.
Gambit stepped forward. " We cant 'elp you. "
For the first time Lindsey turned to Gambit. His eyes daring him to repeat it. Gambit didn't blink.
In desperation Lindsey turned back to Jean. She shook her head.
{I have to } he pleaded. {Home.}
{You can't } she replied telepathically, establishing a link so that it was easier for him to talk.
{You don't understand. I have to go home. For my sister. We're suppose to be together. I promised. I have to go home. I miss her so much. Please - I'll do anything. I just want to go home.}
"We can't help you"
{BUT I WANT TO GO HOME} Lindsey shattered the cup in his hand as he psionically screamed at them.
To a powerful telepath like her it was nothing. An empty scream without the power or the skill to back up the emotion. She dealt with it gently, wondering what to do. In this state he was more likely to hurt himself with his unpredictable powers, then anything else.
Meanwhile Lindsey was staring at his bleeding hand as he slowly sunk to the floor. [I want to go home. I want to see my sister] he signed listlessly to himself.
Jean bent down, reaching out for him "Come on " She said softly.
He looked up at her as if seeing her for the first time.
{Don't touch me}
She tried again, "Lindsey ... "
{Get away from me - leave me alone} Lindsey backed away, tripping in his hurry to get out of the kitchen, away from there, out of this place.
Back in the kitchen Jean and Gambit stared at each other in silence as they heard the front door slam.
"He'll be okay." Jean spoke as if to assure herself.
"Sure"
But she knew she was lying. To him, to herself. She met Gambit's eyes.
"He'll be okay," he repeated, putting on his coat. "Gambit will wa'ch out for 'im."
With an understanding nod, she watched as he silently slipped out into the night.
He spent the next few days in an existence unlike anything he had experienced before. Hiding all day, slinking around the dangerous streets of New York at night. The third night he found it. The youth culture.
It was a pit, more then anything else. Young runaways and general outcasts of society. Everyone was
nameless , all faces blurring into none. Here he was just another blonde kid, dressed in dirty ragged
clothes - carrying his life on his back, and his secrets in his soul. Here he too could become nameless.
Here - for a while - he could be safe.
He lived his life like he was one of them - and soon it was if he had been there forever. As if he had
become one of them. No one spoke sign language - and so no one asked him questions. Not that they
would have. Everyone had their own problems, and no one wanted to know about anyone else's.
They had thought him a dumb mute, as everyone always seem too, until his long fingers had fished his
laptop out of his bag and he started hacking away. Then they thought he was a freak. There ... that word
again.
Although , in some ways no one here was ever alone - in other ways - he was always. He would spend this
moments thinking. About his life, about when the last time he had been truly happy, and the probability
that things were going to get better. An idyllic sheltered childhood that had been destroyed in an instant .
He pushed his greasy bangs out of his eyes, lost in thought. Here he could lose his identity among the
masses, here no one cared.
Gambit too melded into this crowd of societies' lowest echelon. A man in a dark coat. No one needed to ask why he was there - the answer was obvious. To the girls who would come up to him, to the strung out addicts who would come to ask for more. When Gambit invariably didn't respond to them, they just went on to the next man, asking , begging, praying. He was one of many they could chose from.
He had been curious to see how Lindsey would fit into this life. Although Gambit didn't know much about him, he had been under the impression that here was someone who lived their life in the quintessential glass tower, not on the street. He had aristocracy written all over him, and that alone would make him a prey in a hunter's world that was the street. Gambit knew how to survive on the street - Lindsey didn't.
"True " Jean nodded "But there's more .. ." She paused, wondering how best to proceed, how to explain to
the non telepathic X-Men what she had seen - like explaining a rainbow to the blind.
"He's not like any other telepaths that we know. He is so newly awakened that for all means and purposes
he is mentally helpless. Not a single defense." She briefly recalled when she had looked into his mind. It
was made out of the most intricate and delicate material - like crystal. The tiniest pressure on her part
would have shattered everything. There was nothing solid that could possible keep anybody out. She had
never experienced a mind like that before. Betsy, Jonothan, and the other telepaths had already
developed their defenses to their minds - it was necessity in the world they lived in. But telepaths didn't
exist in Lindesy's world - he had no one to defend against, and hence no defenses. No walls. Xavier,
watching quietly from across the room nodded slowly. He knew exactly what she was talking about - for
she had been like that as well when she had first arrived. Wholly innocent to her powers, and the damage that others could cause.
It had been a week. Or maybe more - Lindsey couldn't remember - since he had come to live like this.
He had sold his laptop for food, and as he saw that last possession of his drift away - he realized, that truly there was nothing left of the person who he had been a few short months ago. That he had become unknown.
For himself, Gambit was tired of spending his nights like some demented fairy god mother, looking out for Lindsey, keeping away those who were dangerous. It wasn't , he reflected, in the job description. But then - so many of the things he had done hadn't been listed out when he had signed on the proverbial dotted line.
Each day he reported back to Jean, by phone, or occasionally dropping by for the quick shower. There was never anything to report. Lindsey did nothing but wander all day - Gambit wondered what she was waiting for. With each further day - the chances of his coming back on his own were growing smaller. Personally, Gambit was all for just picking him up and taking him back to the mansion, and enough of this self - centered display of angst. Jean had argued against it, only in the end unwilling agreeing that yes, if it was the only way. She hadn't explained her reservations to him, and he hadn't asked the reason behind them.
And so he stayed.
Lindsey knew what was happening to him as he walked through the streets each day and night. That the shell he had created around himself, that his handicap had insulated, was no longer just protecting him, it was suffocating him. He didn't know how to stop it, and he was no longer sure he wanted to. Until he saw her.
She had been shopping, he could tell not only by the big bags she was carrying, but by the even bigger grin she had on her face. He watched as if struck as her blond hair spun gold in the sunlight, falling on her face, as she tossed her head back. Once, when she had been little, she had told him that she liked to do it because it made her feel like a wild horse; tossing her forelock out of her eyes. He had replied that she looked like a horse when she did that. Then - she had taken it as a complement. Now she was seventeen ... - as if awakening from a dream Lindsey took a step towards her and stopped.
He couldn't approach her, not like this - like a bum. He'd only frighten her. And he knew he could never do anything to scare her. With a shudder he sagged against the wall, collapsing onto the pavement. But he couldn't resist a final look.
Their eyes met. Two pairs of identical blue eyes staring out at each other over a bigger expanse then could be imagined. In that instance Lindsey understood that he didn't exist in her world, that she had never seen him before, and that somehow - she recognized him.
He saw her take a tentative step towards him - paused; making up her mind - she bit her lip and took a larger step.
Then she was standing over him, her shadow blocking out the sun.
"Excuse me...." Her voice was hers. "But .... " he saw that she was at a loss, probably wondering how she had ended up there. "..but ....who - ... I mean - Look do you need some help?"
Dylan was all he could think as he silently shook his head, covering his mouth with his hand, his eyes pleading with her to understand.
She got it. "You're mute?"
He nodded.
"Well ... do you need some help?"
As Lindsey looked at her, he knew he would have said anything to be able to stay near her. He nodded. He didn't need help. He needed her. And he had found her. His little sister - he ducked his gaze with relief that his search was over. He looked up again.
She was still standing there, chewing on her lip, giving him a perplexed look. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he heard her mutter, "but he looks harmless enough - I can deal with the servants" She made up her mind. "You can come home with me." She gave him a look that would have been more suitably bestowed on a lost puppy dog, and held out her hand.
"I'm Dylan."
I know.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
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