Disclaimers: I don't own the X-men.
... many things, but not always what you want. I should know. I've spent years trying to figure out what the truth about my past is. I can't really remember it. I've got about seven different stories, but who the fuck knows which one is right? Of course, I did learn the truth, the awful, horrible truth I never wanted to acknowledge.
Stop thinking ahead. I know you're going to read this, Sir. I know it... Chuck. Yeah, that's right you manipulative bastard, I'm talking to you. I'm angry. I've always been angry. It's a fire that burns in my chest. It's one of the only emotions I can name. Thanks, Prof. I'm not who you think I am.
You think you know me. You made me. You took a wild chance on a kid who had no chance. Why did you even bother taking the risk? Because you know. You know the same damn thing that Sinister's been hinting at for years.
I'm a soldier.
I'm a killer. That's right, Prof. I figured it out. That little X-men don't kill rule was never meant for anyone else. You wouldn't blink if Logan went off and killed a couple hundred gaurds. You'd sigh sadly and lock him up for the safety of the rest of the world. But you, my dear, hypocritical, father-wanna be. You take the cake.
The soldier who trained me to take over his missions. To save the world. The man who killed when he was my age, in a war that he had no stake in. That hypocrite is the one that told me never to kill.
Well, guess what, sucker, you're wrong. Sometimes people die.
You wanted me to sacrifice my son too didn't you?
And who else? Logan? Storm? Jubilee?
Would you even have noticed if Jubilee went missing? Aside from having to restrain Logan of course?
Oh, no, not Storm. She's your prize. The one you turned away from her old path and turned into the gentle, serene leader you always wanted. The reformed thief.
She's a bitch. She's cold. She's worse than Frost when it comes to turning off her emotions. Why? Because you never taught her how to live with those emotions and not have them effect the world. You only ever taught her to isolate herself.
That's the same thing you did to Rogue.
Funny, isn't it? You only wanted her because she was vulnerable.
You only wanted her because you could use her for your own ends. And maybe because you knew it would hurt Mystique. You've never liked Raven, and I could never figure out why. I think it's because she's more effective than you are at bringing people onto her side.
Truth brings nothing but heartache and pain and hurt. I don't like the truth. Neither do you.
Here's the truth, Prof. The world will never be safe for mutants in our lifetime. The fight we've been fighting and the Dream you want us to live for is a fantasy. The only way we can succeed is to completely change our way of doing things. And not to be your personal army. No, we have to go out and do this the right way. The peaceful way.
Like that will ever happen.
How hard did you laugh reading that? Me, peaceful? Marching on Washington maybe? With my wife by my side? Aren't we a pretty pair.
By the way. I also know you don't think of her as a daughter. I'm not a 'path, but I do know how to read people. Call it a life skill.
Have fun with your hand tonight. Here's one more truth.
I don't give a damn. This is my team and my dream. Deal with it. I'm sick and tired of being your yes man.
...understanding, compassion, and enlightenment. Truth is how I can love my husband. If I didn't know the truth that lies beneath the mask that is Cyclops, I could never love Scott. If I didn't know there was a gentle and loving Slim hiding beneath the tactician, I would hate him. If I didn't have a link directly into his mind, I wouldn't know the truth. I wouldn't know his past. I wouldn't know his future. I wouldn't understand when he needs to push me away because things are getting too intense for him to handle.
If I couldn't see the truth, I wouldn't know that he doesn't really mind when I flirt with Logan. I wouldn't know about the little smile he keeps inside when he knows I'll be wrapped in his arms the same night I've been teasing with Logan.
I wouldn't be able to deal with Logan if I didn't know he was at heart not willing to hurt Scott. If I didn't know that he is a truly a gentle man, I would be frightened of him.
If I didn't know the truth, I'd treat Jubilee like the ditz she pretends to be.
If I didn't know the truth, I'd think that Storm was made of ice, not Bobby.
If I didn't know the truth, I'd have killed Bobby for that last prank with the hair dye. But it would have been quite funny if Scott actually had ended up with blue hair.
If I didn't know the truth, I would have fought against keeping Rogue here.
If I didn't know the truth, I would have dragged Hank out of his lab.
If I didn't know the truth, I'd have knocked Remy into a wall.
If I didn't know the truth, I'd have left Joseph to fend for himself.
If I didn't know the truth, I'd still like Warren.
But I do know the truth. And it scares me.
It scares me to think that I could have ignored Logan's love as a joke. Or that I could have just passed him off as a semi-civilized animal and thought nothing more of it.
It scares me to think that I could ever have been so shallow as to think that Jubilee was a child. She has more heartache in her past than I could ever handle. I remember what I went through when I lost my best friend. I didn't lose my whole family, my whole lifestyle, my whole identity in one fell swoop. I've never had to give up my pride. I've never had to fight to live as a child. I can always run home to my parents. Every time I see her smile, I want to hug my mother. Every time I see her let Logan take care of her instead of flinching away, I want to cheer.
It scares me to think that I could think of Storm as having no emotions, of never getting angry, or laughing, or crying. She keeps herself so bottled up that it's easy to forget that she really is a woman and not the goddess she used to pretend to be.
It scares me to think that I would have dismissed Bobby as nothing more than a prankster or the joker.
It scares me to think that I would have turned away Rogue because she was a terrorist. That if I hadn't known what was going on in her head, I would have thrown her out into the streets to fend for herself. Or maybe to have found her way into one of Sinister's labs. I would have turned away a child.
It scares me to think that I could forget Hank's research is life or death.
It scares me to think that I have the capability to hurt Remy the way he expects. Here is a truth I hate to face. He tries to provoke me, everyone, especially Scott, because he is firmly convinced that the world hates him and anyone who tries to care for him must be out to get him. Not that his current choice affairs aren't, but that's another topic all together. No, the truth is, I could hurt him. And maybe a few years ago, I would have.
It scares me to think that I would have turned my back on someone in need. That I would have left Joseph to live or die on his own. I was more willing to take in Sabretooth. At least I knew what I was dealing with. But Joseph could be playing games. If I couldn't read him, I wouldn't believe in him.
It scares me to think that I missed the changes in Warren. That I never realized he was becoming hard and angry. I never even thought about what losing his wings meant to him. I never saw the pain and hate he was hiding.
If I didn't know the truth, the world would be... too unpredictable to handle.
Truth brings very little. I don't think that the truth is what I'm looking for anymore. I learned a few too many things about what can happen to you when you tell the truth. I've been beaten up, hunted, chased, cursed, and hated for the truth of genetics. Why then, do you think I want to live in truth? I think the light jokes, the superficial smiles, and the deep laughs are the most important things in the world. As Remy might say, bon temps.
I'm not deep and philosophical. I don't brood. If I did, that would be the last of Bobby, of who and what defines me. No one around here would know how to handle me. I'm not the type to take things to seriously.
I've got problems. I can't control my powers to the extent that they could be used, but I'm getting better. At least I haven't trapped myself in a relationship doomed to fail. How strange to realize right now, that I'm free. I'm free of the damned crush I've had on Rogue for years. Spending two weeks with her and watching her smack around her (ex) boyfriend gave me some perspective. I'm not that self-abusive. How the hell have they managed to survive this long? Besides, my shield aren't that strong. They never keep Jeannie out when she wants in. And I know they don't keep you out.
But what do I have to think about that might be interesting? The stock exchange? Warren's taxes? The fact that I really need to find a source of pocket money that doesn't consist of asking you for the money? I'm laughing here, really. I had a job. I worked for a CPA office. I'm good at it, but the boredom doesn't suit me.
Oh, God, I've become an adrenaline junkie. Shoot me now.
Of course, if I didn't like the adrenaline, I wouldn't freeze the pipes when Logan's taking a shower. He threatened to carve me into a swan next time I tried it.
I'm not that stupid. I'll wait until he's forgotten his threat.
Well, there's Frosty to consider. I mean, she's damn gorgeous. And she's fucking sexy as hell. Well, looks like I have another crush. Of course, she could have planted that thought in my head...
Oh, come off it, Prof X. You don't seriously think I'm stupid enough to get into bed with a woman who'd probably like to beat the shit out of me? I'm not Gambit... or Scott for that matter.
Oh, speaking of Scott, do you think he'll admit the truth about him and Logan at the next "faculty" meeting? Yeah, vain hope.
Well, there's your page. I'm going to watch "South Park" with Jubilee.
... the bitter taste of failure and a fractured sense of where I am headed in this world. I watch friends die for no good reason and am unable to do the smallest thing to help them. I have watched as the science I have believed in for so long is turned on its head by new technology. The realization that I cannot cure the world of its ills and that science does not always have and answer is the hardest truth I've ever faced.
Truth, in my most humble opinion, is over rated. I much prefer the lie that the world can be explained and understood and controlled.
When I was a child, when my father still lived, I believed he would never lie to me. The largest lie he told me was that he would never, ever leave his beauty. He loved me. I know that is the truth. I know it was not his fault that the building collapsed. But the truth of death is not something that one should have to face so young. I hide that truth, that life-long sadness beneath the layers of my control. I cover it with a serene smile, though I bleed beneath it.
In the darkest reaches of my soul, in the darkest part of my child's mind, I know the truth. Everything dies. Everything hurts. Everything changes.
In the most stubborn of my dreams, I have the ability to put a hold on the truth. I can keep my friends young forever. I can save my family and my people. I can smile and laugh and weep and rage without anyone being harmed or affected by my emotions.
The rain has begun. That is how I cry. Can you hear it, Charles? Can you hear my pain in the wind that blows across the steady heartbeat of rain? Can you feel the pain and anger in every lightening strike? Can you hear my voice howl in rage and pain in every clap of thunder?
My sorrow is bone deep and will never wash away. You have questioned my loyalty to my brother. I tell you this, Charles, he has more knowledge of my soul than you shall ever possess. You have forgotten your sorrow. You have lost your compassion. You are not the man I met all those years ago when I was still a pickpocket running for my life. You are not the man I came to follow.
I mourn for the man you once were. I fear for the man you are becoming. I fear the bitterness that I see in the eyes of so many of my teammates and I cry for the loss of innocence.
I mourn for the final truth that came to my people. I mourn the blood that was spilled for no reason.
If I ignore the truth, I can survive in this world. If I diffuse the comments that would worm their way beneath my mask, and forget the pain and sorrow, I will be strong.
I am not Storm.
I am Ororo.
I am serene.
I can not cry.
... hate. I hate the truth. I hate it. Only dreams can make me feel better. The truth has never done anything positive except nearly drive me insane.
In dreams I can love.
In dreams I can hold someone.
In dreams I can kiss.
In truth, I hate.
In truth, I can't ever touch.
In truth, I can only hurt.
Culpabilité. Perte. Douleur. Répugnance. Redouter. Visions. Diablo. Une Cassé songer.
Bet you want that in English you encule de mere. And non, I'm not translating that last bit for you. Figure it out yourself.
Guilt. Deprivation. Pain. Loathing. Dread. Visions. The Devil. One broken dream.
I'm not one for truth actually. What has it ever gotten me?
Not the girl. Well, not this one. Selective truth has much to be said for it. You know that too. I've watched you do it. I've watched you lie through your teeth because your sweet little children will fall for it.
I know you tried to have Betsy invade my mind. Did you really think I couldn't feel her? Or you? Do you really believe my shields are unconscious? Or a manifestation of my powers? Non, ma cher connard. Remy, he knows exactly what he's doing. Here's your truth, vieillard. You are not the most powerful being on the planet. You do not scare me. You do not own me. You did not tame me. You did not reach me. I am not yours. I know what you think about when you look at your "children."
I had a "papa" like that.
I plan to make sure he rots in Hell for all eternity.
Does votre garçon know that you want him? Does he know what you do when you're watching him in the Danger Room? Can you hide your secrets from Red? Does she know you want her?
I know these things, cher. I always have. You ask for truth, non? More truth you don't want to hear. I am better at hiding than you are.
I can read you, cher. I always could. And here, cher, is the truth, Gambit will never, ever trust you.
There, now that that is out in the open we can continue.
This is much more fun than I imagined it would be.
What does your truth bring to people, Professeur? Connard. You never tell the truth. Even your sweet little puppet is getting fed up with you. What will you do when you drive him away? Who will you turn to? I won't let you hurt mon petite fille. You will not harm her again. You don't know how much her heart still bleeds.
I won't let you hurt ma chere either. I will make sure that what is mine is protected. And don't even start with the idea that she isn't mine. You aren't that dense, even if you act it. Does le garçon know that you tirer sa crampe when you see him in his uniform? Even Bobby's caught on to that.
You didn't know that did you? Is that why you took the chance on Scotty?
Don't lie to me, Charles. I see your eyes. I know who you watch. What you watch, to be more accurate. I know you want him.
Is that why Jean stopped wearing that cute little skirt? Because you kept trying to look up it? Pervertir.
Ah, but what do you think is going to happen, cher? Do you think they're just going smile and nod when they find out about you? And they will find out. You keep yourself wound so... tight. You will crack and when it happens I hope you can deal with the consequences of your actions.
And, cher, I know who all you're watching.
All of them.
And you won't touch any of them.
Truth: I'll protect them. From you, if need be.
Truth isn't all that grand now is it?
Bec mon chu, Professeur.
... brings vengence. Yes, Chuck, I know what that word means. You'd think I was an idiot or something. I watched my parents be murdered.
I watched the murderer get away with it.
Truth doesn't mean anything when no one will believe you. I told the truth and all I got from it was a whole lot of disbelieving looks and some foster assholes who thought I was a pathological liar or something.
I learned about the truth on the streets to. Truth is when you realize that hungry means dying and that cold can kill. Truth is when you realize that people don't give a damn about a little girl with weird eyes and firecracker fingers. You have no clue, Prof. None whatsoever.
Truth is when you decide that you have to give in to the urge to steal because you haven't eaten in two days.
Truth is when you realize that your parents won't be coming back and that your life isn't a nightmare, though you really wish it was.
Do you even understand what it means to be hungry? Do you wake up at night tormented by the image of the two people you love the most in this world dying? Murdered?
Truth is realizing that you can trust a freaky little guy with claws. And then having him disappear.
Truth is forgetting that you are smart enough to pass a class because things just don't matter anymore.
Truth is when you can't manage to throw the covers off and get up out of bed.
Truth doesn't bring what it should. It doesn't even bring what it promises.
I don't feel better telling the truth.
I don't feel relieved.
I don't feel free.
Truth brings cages that are harder to break out of than any lie you could ever tell.
Right, as if I would commit my thoughts to paper. Fuck off, Professor. I'm not a child anymore. I'm not in school. You aren't my teacher anymore.
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