Paragons

Issue 11- Ghosts

Rostock, Germany

Megan seated herself upon one of the desks, turned away from the room of death as she did her best to not gag upon the rotting stench that had now begun to creep ever further outwards. Behind her she could hear the soft squelches and sudden thuds as Seren searched about the small former lab for anything that may be of interest.

  It unnerved her quite a bit how comfortable her apparent future daughter was in such a room, as though it was nothing worse than a messy bedroom. 'I've done worse to people', that was what Seren said. Pixie wasn't so sure she wanted to know what she'd meant by that, nor what kind of future could be in store for her own child to have done anything close to what she saw in there.

  The more time she spent with Seren the more she realized she knew very little about the girl, except that she seemed to have a lot more in common with her father than she would admit. Just like Darktruth she was incredibly cagey when conversations started to become too personal, the moment things started to move too close to a truth she would distract, deflect, or offer up a lot of information on a similar but different topic. She didn't believe Seren had outright lied to her, at least not so far, but it was clear that she wanted to keep a lot hidden.

  Perhaps she was right to. Her father was the same, and he usually had fairly good reasons to keep the things he wanted to private, even if it did often infuriate her no end. She understood why he was never completely upfront about elements of his life, but that didn't mean she didn't wish he was more truthful with her. More open. He loved her, she knew that for an absolute fact, yet he would still often keep so much of himself hidden from her.

  He did try, she knew that, it just seemed that it was a natural reflex for him. A habit he could never quite shake. Just like back in Abergylid; he had been seemingly so close to telling her something, something that had been seemingly eating away at him, and then suddenly they were broken up. One moment everything had seemed so good with them, but then the moment he tried to open up they were no more and she still had no clear idea exactly why even if she had agreed at the time.

  She was also quite certain that he was hiding something from her at that very moment. The way he had come back into her life, how he had flipped back and forth over working for Xavier, how adamant he was to have his 'Paragons'. She was so happy he was around once more, and yet she couldn't ignore the massive question marks that followed him about wherever he went. She could only hope whatever he left unsaid was nowhere near as dangerous as she feared it might be, though time with him had taught her that it often could be. She wondered if he even knew the entirety of his own secrets, given it seemed far too easy for him to lose them amongst the mess that was his own mind.

  She swallowed as she thought on his mind, the fragmented and distorted space created by his own powers. This wasn't the first time her anxieties and insecurities pulled her to dwell upon it, to wonder exactly how much of his mind truly loved her. He was made up of the fragments of so many memories and personalities, the ones he pulled together to create new intelligences, and yet nobody knew whether they were truly him or something else entirely. Worse than that nobody had an answer as to whether his duplicates were still him, that every time he died and replicated his mind that a part of him didn't change. Could one day he no longer love her because he forgot to arrange his mind right? Would he ever even know? What if he--?

  "Don't dwell," Amira's voice cut into her thoughts, and she glanced over to the girl in a chair as she flicked through an old journal. "I can see it on your face. What's wrong?"

  Pixie licked her lip. "Have you ever been worried that somebody might forget they love you?"

  Amira paused, then her eyes glanced over the mutant. "Darktruth? You're worried he might?"