Drabble: Loss
Who: Ric, Ophelia, Irene, Raven, Rogue, Martini and mentions of Lorna, Roy and Adrian.
Where: Team_x
Prompt: This song and death.
Rating: PG13
~
Ticker tape still rains drown from the sky, glinting in the afternoon sun and floating along on the gentle breeze that makes it flutter and spin before settling down onto the pavement, floating in a pool of deep red. There are people screaming and crying out for help in the distance, sirens wailing loudly and the low murmur of emergency service employees trying to help and comfort the injured. Stumbling through the chaos Ric keeps a tight grip on Ophelia’s hand, refusing to let her go once again and lose her in the waxing and waning crowds of injured, dazed and confused people.
~
It’s a glorious day, the sun is shining and the skies are startling blue, barely a cloud to be seen anywhere. The first Mutant Day parade has gone without a hitch and the crowds are slowly descending upon Central Park where they break off into smaller groups to enjoy the sunshine and share a picnic. Some of the Team X members have reunited here, it’s been a couple of years since the group were disbanded and those who’d stayed friendly came together to celebrate this day. It’s the first time that mutants are to be recognised as equals, Xavier’s vision at last coming to fruition.
~
Ophelia keeps up a whispered mantra beneath her breath, “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. Creeps in this petty pace from day to day. To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.”
The words having no meaning to Ric who barely can hear a thing beyond the rush of blood in his ears. Her grasp on his hand slips for a moment as she lingers to stare at a red balloon bobbing up and down, before Ric realises and stops, turning back to drag Ophelia away from the body of a child with a balloon tied about their wrist. He keeps her closer after that, one arm around her waist but his eyes are always searching, looking, watching and hopeful.
~
No-one knows where it came from, how it happened but one minute Mark is happily lazing in the sun with Ric’s head resting on his stomach, fingers soothing through his boyfriends hair and the next he’s panicking, desperately telling the group that they need to leave. Before they can get their things together though there’s an explosion.
Chaos ensues as further explosions go off and soldiers dressed in black wearing gas masks appear from nowhere. Some of them carry guns, others armed with these hoses which release thick smog that burns at the mutant parade goer’s eyes, catching in the back of their throats and making them retch as they desperately try to breathe. In the confusion Ric loses sight of Martini and Rogue, screaming hoarsely as he runs towards the undergrowth to get away from their attackers. Someone then yells that they can’t use their powers, that the smoke is inhibiting mutation and that just makes matters worse. Ric tries to reach out with his mutation into the earth but it’s like that part of his brain is closed off, like someone put a wall up and locked his powers firmly behind it. The knowledge that they’re all powerless is terrifying.
~
Footing slipping, they stumble till they reach one of the park exits that takes them out onto 5th Avenue. There they are stopped by a police officer who speaks in hushed tones, leading them to an ambulance and wrapping a blanket around Ophelia’s shoulders as he asks lots of questions; what are their names? Were they there for the Mutant Day Parade? Did they have others in their group? Were they mutants?
~
Gun shots ring out though nothing can be seen thanks to the smog and Ric stumbles aimlessly, still coughing and choking till he somehow stumbles across Ophelia, crouched at the base of a tree and rocking back and forth. Guiding her to her feet Ric wanders aimlessly until the smoke clears and they huddle with others in the archway of a bridge, praying that whoever attacked them goes soon.
Time passes, Ric tries not to let his mind wander or dwell on what might have happened to Mark, Rogue, Lorna and the others but it’s hard not to. Eventually the group agrees that there is no point in hiding and they leave, breaking off to go in search of help, of loved ones and those who have fallen.
~
Ric answers what he can as the medics try to clean up the gash on Phe’s forehead, trying to check for concussion until Ric is forced to explain that her behaviour is fairly normal but promises to keep a close eye on her and take themselves straight to a hospital should anything change in her behaviour. It’s his turn to start asking questions, had anyone seen a green eyed guy wandering around answering to the name Martini? What about a Southern girl with a white streak in her hair? Had they seen her anywhere? What about green haired Lorna? Or blue-eyed Roy? The names and descriptions of several more mutants are uttered as the police officer notes them down, sharing a look with the EMT that Ric does not want to know the true meaning of.
Eventually they are ushered to an incident tent, where Ric is not at all surprised to see Raven and Irene waiting for them. “Where’s my daughter? Where’s Rogue?” Raven snaps at Ric as he stares at her, she doesn’t bother hiding her true mutant form right now. At a loss for words Ric just shakes his head and lets the tears fall, letting out a startled gasp when Irene presses forward, wraps her arms around him and shushes him, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back.
There’s nothing more that they can do here so Raven instructs Irene to take Ric and Ophelia back to Rogue’s house and wait. Once there, whilst Irene turns the television on listening to the news report on the day’s events, Ric guides a still murmuring Ophelia into a bath, gently washing her smoke and dirt smeared skin and whispering his own words of comfort to her. As he settles her down in the guest room Ric turns to leave, however he is stopped when Ophelia’s hand darts out from beneath the covers and grips tightly at his wrist. “C-can’t feel...”
He can hear the phone ringing in the background, but he can’t just leave Phe so he sits on the edge of the bed Ric, holding Phe’s hand gently between his and soothing his fingers back and forth over the pale skin. “I know Phe; it’s going to be okay. Don't fret precious I'm here, just go to sleep. Shhhhh now, go to sleep.” Thankfully, sleep does eventually come and Phe drifts off, allowing Ric to slip back downstairs.
Leaning against the doorframe as Irene listens to the television, the reporters are talking about the organised attack by an anti-mutant group who have killed thousands of innocent, helpless mutants in Central Park. Neither of them speak until the clips start to repeat themselves and then Irene turns her head towards where Ric is stood and pats the sofa seat next to her. “I think you need to sit down Julio, I have... news.”
Ric can see the tears that have dampened Irene’s cheeks, the redness of her sightless eyes and the crumpled tissue in her hand. He moves stiffly, sitting down and reaching out to cover Irene’s hands with his own. “Did they find... is it? Is she?”
Irene nods, unable to form the words and fresh tears start to fall, Ric draws her in close, each of them seeking comfort and solace in the other as they grieve for Rogue. It takes them a little while to compose themselves and when they do Irene reaches out to cup Ric’s face with her hands, thumbs swiping at the dampness on his cheeks. “Raven’s been identifying bodies, those that she could remember from the team. Apparently Roy and Lorna were unlucky and died, as did that young man, Adrian.” Though terrible Ric still can’t help but know that there is worse to come.
“A-and Mark?” The words are barely spoken.
“I’m sorry Julio. I’m so sorry they... it’s... Martini’s... he’s dead too.”
~
It’s been a tough few days, Ric and Phe attending ceremonies for their lost team mates, reuniting with those that couldn’t make the parade. Emma and Victor are there for Lorna’s funeral; in fact they show up for all the funerals and stand close to Phe and Ric every single time offering their silent support. Victor even allows Ophelia to slip her slim arms around the feral’s waist and bury her face into the material of his coat, patting her back awkwardly as they had said goodbye at the airport with Emma and Ric watching on.
The terminal is busy with people rushing here and there, all with a purpose and a sense of urgency that Ric and Ophelia just don’t possess. They sit in the first-class lounge overlooking the main area where people shop and sit around drinking, talking, watching and waiting, whilst Phe and Ric wait for their flight to be called. Irene and Raven held a ceremony for Rogue little over a week ago and laid her body to rest, cremated Martini at the same time because taking his body back home would have been too painful at that time. Ric had scattered a few of Mark’s ashes into Rogue’s grave and had burned a pair of Rogue’s gloves with Mark so that they would forever be together in some shape or form.
Their loss hasn’t quite sunk in yet, though steadily over the last few days Phe has regained her powers like many of the others who’d survived the attack. She’s still weak, so it’s common to find her whispering to herself, meaningless things that no-one questions. Ric however has not once bothered to test out his powers, something Emma had commented on but gotten no response for. She just sighs, worries about him and wonders whether this will be the last time Ric will decline and fall into a bottle before he finally drinks himself to death.
They board the plane, settling into their seats and Ric takes one last lingering glance back at the city through the window and vows, when he returns to New York next, it will be to avenge the death of his loved ones. His heart beating steadily in his chest, pounding out a rhythm like a war drum.
Where: Team_x
Prompt: This song and death.
Rating: PG13
~
Ticker tape still rains drown from the sky, glinting in the afternoon sun and floating along on the gentle breeze that makes it flutter and spin before settling down onto the pavement, floating in a pool of deep red. There are people screaming and crying out for help in the distance, sirens wailing loudly and the low murmur of emergency service employees trying to help and comfort the injured. Stumbling through the chaos Ric keeps a tight grip on Ophelia’s hand, refusing to let her go once again and lose her in the waxing and waning crowds of injured, dazed and confused people.
~
It’s a glorious day, the sun is shining and the skies are startling blue, barely a cloud to be seen anywhere. The first Mutant Day parade has gone without a hitch and the crowds are slowly descending upon Central Park where they break off into smaller groups to enjoy the sunshine and share a picnic. Some of the Team X members have reunited here, it’s been a couple of years since the group were disbanded and those who’d stayed friendly came together to celebrate this day. It’s the first time that mutants are to be recognised as equals, Xavier’s vision at last coming to fruition.
~
Ophelia keeps up a whispered mantra beneath her breath, “To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow. Creeps in this petty pace from day to day. To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.”
The words having no meaning to Ric who barely can hear a thing beyond the rush of blood in his ears. Her grasp on his hand slips for a moment as she lingers to stare at a red balloon bobbing up and down, before Ric realises and stops, turning back to drag Ophelia away from the body of a child with a balloon tied about their wrist. He keeps her closer after that, one arm around her waist but his eyes are always searching, looking, watching and hopeful.
~
No-one knows where it came from, how it happened but one minute Mark is happily lazing in the sun with Ric’s head resting on his stomach, fingers soothing through his boyfriends hair and the next he’s panicking, desperately telling the group that they need to leave. Before they can get their things together though there’s an explosion.
Chaos ensues as further explosions go off and soldiers dressed in black wearing gas masks appear from nowhere. Some of them carry guns, others armed with these hoses which release thick smog that burns at the mutant parade goer’s eyes, catching in the back of their throats and making them retch as they desperately try to breathe. In the confusion Ric loses sight of Martini and Rogue, screaming hoarsely as he runs towards the undergrowth to get away from their attackers. Someone then yells that they can’t use their powers, that the smoke is inhibiting mutation and that just makes matters worse. Ric tries to reach out with his mutation into the earth but it’s like that part of his brain is closed off, like someone put a wall up and locked his powers firmly behind it. The knowledge that they’re all powerless is terrifying.
~
Footing slipping, they stumble till they reach one of the park exits that takes them out onto 5th Avenue. There they are stopped by a police officer who speaks in hushed tones, leading them to an ambulance and wrapping a blanket around Ophelia’s shoulders as he asks lots of questions; what are their names? Were they there for the Mutant Day Parade? Did they have others in their group? Were they mutants?
~
Gun shots ring out though nothing can be seen thanks to the smog and Ric stumbles aimlessly, still coughing and choking till he somehow stumbles across Ophelia, crouched at the base of a tree and rocking back and forth. Guiding her to her feet Ric wanders aimlessly until the smoke clears and they huddle with others in the archway of a bridge, praying that whoever attacked them goes soon.
Time passes, Ric tries not to let his mind wander or dwell on what might have happened to Mark, Rogue, Lorna and the others but it’s hard not to. Eventually the group agrees that there is no point in hiding and they leave, breaking off to go in search of help, of loved ones and those who have fallen.
~
Ric answers what he can as the medics try to clean up the gash on Phe’s forehead, trying to check for concussion until Ric is forced to explain that her behaviour is fairly normal but promises to keep a close eye on her and take themselves straight to a hospital should anything change in her behaviour. It’s his turn to start asking questions, had anyone seen a green eyed guy wandering around answering to the name Martini? What about a Southern girl with a white streak in her hair? Had they seen her anywhere? What about green haired Lorna? Or blue-eyed Roy? The names and descriptions of several more mutants are uttered as the police officer notes them down, sharing a look with the EMT that Ric does not want to know the true meaning of.
Eventually they are ushered to an incident tent, where Ric is not at all surprised to see Raven and Irene waiting for them. “Where’s my daughter? Where’s Rogue?” Raven snaps at Ric as he stares at her, she doesn’t bother hiding her true mutant form right now. At a loss for words Ric just shakes his head and lets the tears fall, letting out a startled gasp when Irene presses forward, wraps her arms around him and shushes him, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back.
There’s nothing more that they can do here so Raven instructs Irene to take Ric and Ophelia back to Rogue’s house and wait. Once there, whilst Irene turns the television on listening to the news report on the day’s events, Ric guides a still murmuring Ophelia into a bath, gently washing her smoke and dirt smeared skin and whispering his own words of comfort to her. As he settles her down in the guest room Ric turns to leave, however he is stopped when Ophelia’s hand darts out from beneath the covers and grips tightly at his wrist. “C-can’t feel...”
He can hear the phone ringing in the background, but he can’t just leave Phe so he sits on the edge of the bed Ric, holding Phe’s hand gently between his and soothing his fingers back and forth over the pale skin. “I know Phe; it’s going to be okay. Don't fret precious I'm here, just go to sleep. Shhhhh now, go to sleep.” Thankfully, sleep does eventually come and Phe drifts off, allowing Ric to slip back downstairs.
Leaning against the doorframe as Irene listens to the television, the reporters are talking about the organised attack by an anti-mutant group who have killed thousands of innocent, helpless mutants in Central Park. Neither of them speak until the clips start to repeat themselves and then Irene turns her head towards where Ric is stood and pats the sofa seat next to her. “I think you need to sit down Julio, I have... news.”
Ric can see the tears that have dampened Irene’s cheeks, the redness of her sightless eyes and the crumpled tissue in her hand. He moves stiffly, sitting down and reaching out to cover Irene’s hands with his own. “Did they find... is it? Is she?”
Irene nods, unable to form the words and fresh tears start to fall, Ric draws her in close, each of them seeking comfort and solace in the other as they grieve for Rogue. It takes them a little while to compose themselves and when they do Irene reaches out to cup Ric’s face with her hands, thumbs swiping at the dampness on his cheeks. “Raven’s been identifying bodies, those that she could remember from the team. Apparently Roy and Lorna were unlucky and died, as did that young man, Adrian.” Though terrible Ric still can’t help but know that there is worse to come.
“A-and Mark?” The words are barely spoken.
“I’m sorry Julio. I’m so sorry they... it’s... Martini’s... he’s dead too.”
~
It’s been a tough few days, Ric and Phe attending ceremonies for their lost team mates, reuniting with those that couldn’t make the parade. Emma and Victor are there for Lorna’s funeral; in fact they show up for all the funerals and stand close to Phe and Ric every single time offering their silent support. Victor even allows Ophelia to slip her slim arms around the feral’s waist and bury her face into the material of his coat, patting her back awkwardly as they had said goodbye at the airport with Emma and Ric watching on.
The terminal is busy with people rushing here and there, all with a purpose and a sense of urgency that Ric and Ophelia just don’t possess. They sit in the first-class lounge overlooking the main area where people shop and sit around drinking, talking, watching and waiting, whilst Phe and Ric wait for their flight to be called. Irene and Raven held a ceremony for Rogue little over a week ago and laid her body to rest, cremated Martini at the same time because taking his body back home would have been too painful at that time. Ric had scattered a few of Mark’s ashes into Rogue’s grave and had burned a pair of Rogue’s gloves with Mark so that they would forever be together in some shape or form.
Their loss hasn’t quite sunk in yet, though steadily over the last few days Phe has regained her powers like many of the others who’d survived the attack. She’s still weak, so it’s common to find her whispering to herself, meaningless things that no-one questions. Ric however has not once bothered to test out his powers, something Emma had commented on but gotten no response for. She just sighs, worries about him and wonders whether this will be the last time Ric will decline and fall into a bottle before he finally drinks himself to death.
They board the plane, settling into their seats and Ric takes one last lingering glance back at the city through the window and vows, when he returns to New York next, it will be to avenge the death of his loved ones. His heart beating steadily in his chest, pounding out a rhythm like a war drum.