3DISCLAIMER: This is fanfiction. If I really owned the characters of X-Men, I'd be ruining the comics. (Seriously, I'd ruin it with M-preg, a lot of gay, and more Banshee. :P)
Half-Remembered Dreams Pt. II: Havok Wreaked on an Innocent Heart
Light leaked through the curtains of my room in the wee hours of the morning, shining its brilliant, golden warmth across everything. In an ideal world, a sensible person would have gotten up and greeted the glorious daybreak with a smile and a gracious approach. But it was neither a rational world nor was I a rational person. I merely turned my face away from the accursed light and drifted by into unconsciousness.
But that Bozo I lived had to be a fucking goody two shoes and wake me up for the Professor at fucking dawn.
"Alex, get up!" he grumbled in an almost annoyed voice. "You need your head checked!" Although he could have easily picked me up and carried me to my scheduled appointment, he was hesitant about his powers so he only pushed, hit, smacked me upside the head. After a while (or five minutes), I got tired of Hank's stupid bitch slaps and I just kicked him in the balls. He backed away immediately but quickly got pissed. He growled at me while I cracked my knuckles.
It was one those days.
If you expected us to punch the living shit out each other until we died or not give up until we were bleeding, dying, and/or getting our asses kicked by an angry Moira, you were way wrong.
At first, we just stared at each other as if bright, red lasers were going to come out of our eyes and kill the other. Several minutes had to pass by because, after a while, I felt uncomfortably stiff. I moved my head from side to side, stretching my neck. But I made a weird cracking sound, so Beast thought that just being cocky and simply trying to intimidate him. He then growled, crouching like a jungle cat while doing so. Before I could realize what I was doing, he came at me. In one swift movement, he scooped me up and carried me over his shoulder.
Great, now he does it, I thought bitterly.
"C'mon Alex," he said as walked out of my room towards the lab (I looked longingly at my bed while he left farther and farther from my happy place), "you've been attending Charles' brain scans for twelve months now. Why can't you do it without all the fuss?"
"'Cause I'm in no need of a fucking brain scan, bozo!" I spat out angrily. "If I did, you would've known twelve fucking months ago!"
"Alexander, the accident you endured those months ago was of a dangerous kind. The fact that you survived the truck's hitting you is both miraculous and suspicious. Because you left that scene with a minor concussion and a few cuts and bruises, we need to make sure that you did leave with just that. Sometimes, after a traumatic crash like yours, symptoms can appear later on. It is no more than precautionary for me and the Professor to check your vital signs."
"But it's been a mother fucking year! My head isn't gonna fall off anytime soon, Henry!"
Hank rolled his eyes and sighed at my childish remarks. "For a guy who woke up just now, you have insulted me and have said the word 'fucking' more times than you've had in an entire day."
I only scoffed at his statement. I hung off his large, blue, furry shoulder with a scowl on my face. I knew I didn't need a good-for-nothing, bloody scan of my head. I was fine. Well, I was fine…except for the fact that I couldn't remember probably the most important person in my life.
You see, exactly one year ago that day, I was extremely depressed over something. Charles said that he tried to talk me out of leaving the mansion but that I was too upset to listen to him. All I remembered was taking one of Charles' old motorcycles and driving it as far away as I could from that place - the place that once made me feel great. I also remembered that I distraught and I went as fast that damn machine could go. I remembered the wind blowing in my face, roughly wiping away the tears that were pouring down my face; the roar of the engine as I increased its speed; the sound of a truck blowing its loud horn; and the truck's headlights shining a white ray before it all went black.
I really didn't suffer from anything major; just a concussion that left me comatose for three days. Although it did not affect any of my important bodily functions, it did leave my head a little foggy. For the first couple of days, I didn't know who my friends were, where I was, or even my own name. Professor X, however, was able to bring back my memories in a matter of minutes and he dubbed my condition as O.K. and fixed. But, since then, he has me getting a routine checkup every month.
But I caught on to his game.
During my July checkup, I told Professor Xavier about these weir dreams that I was having. They were all about my accident but with alternate endings. In one of them, I hit so hard that I flung from my bike and the truck driver didn't even notice that he hit me. I just laid there, broken and dying, until a silhouette of a tall, lanky man came my way. He picked me up gently and said, "Every thing's gonna be alright, Havok." in a kind, brotherly voice that was familiar but I couldn't exactly pinpoint it. I tried looking at his face, but it covered by the shadows. All I could of him was his light, ginger mane that he called his hair. He carried all the back to Xavier's place and, when we arrived, was greeted by the others with hugs, pats, and "Way to go, Banshee!"
After I told Charles about that one dream, he erased my memory. He told Hank that my brain just went in a relapse, but, luckily, that bozo of a scientist was too smart to believe him. Charles eventually told Hank about what he did to me, saying that it was "better for him not to remember Banshee". Beast, as soon as he heard this, told me. I tried to ask Hank who "Banshee" was but he said that he didn't know either.
Charles erased both of our memories of this mysterious "Banshee" guy.
After the incredibly painful ride on "Air Hank's Shoulder," he finally made to the X-Men lab (which underneath the actual building). Beast stayed in the doorway, but I reluctantly walked into the completely silver room towards the towards the small, metal table that was in the middle of the machine-filled room space. Sitting in front of it with a beaming smile, was the Professor himself.
Damn bastard.
"Hello, Alex," he greeted super cheerfully. "How are you this fine morning?"
"Fine," I murmured inaudibly under my breath. I then sat on the cold, hard table, like I did every time I went there. I laid down, with my head towards Charles, so he could just get the fucking procedure done with.
"Anything strange happening in your heads? Bad dreams, weird images, funny sounds, perhaps?" While I looked up at his tired face (he was recruiting more mutants at that time so he was barely sleeping), I saw him close his eyes as he spoke and put his fingers to the temples of my head.
"Nope, nothing," I said quickly, but it was a lie. I did experience all three of those things. That same morning when Beast woke me up, I had a dream where I met the Banshee dude. He just introduced himself as "Sean Cassidy" and shook my hand, but pictures of things that looked like they came from another life flooded my head. A kiss we shared between the two of us; us playing video games; us having sex; us at the aquarium; two guys taunting Sean; and there was just one "scene" where I just gave him a peck on the cheek. I didn't want to wake up that morning because I finally remembered him - my boyfriend, my true love, my best friend.
"Well then, let me just take a quick look to check," Charles said before he invaded my mind.
Before he entered my head and saw my memories of Sean and erased them, I mumbled my "I love you" to my Banshee and whispered out loud:
"See you in my dreams, Banshee."