Beside Me, Chapter 2.2 - Talking Cure
May. 7th, 2011 08:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyxelestiaStory Title: Beside Me
Chapter: 2.2 - Cure
Rating: R
Summary: X-Men AU: For many downtrodden mutants, rejected throughout a lifetime of unwelcome blood dictating their lives, Camelot Academy is not just a school - it's a home. But something dark is brewing, and Camelot is no longer as safe as it appears.
Word Count: 4950
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen, Lancelot, Morgana, Gwaine, Uther
Chapter Warnings/Content: self-injury/self-mutilation, self-hatred, passing suicidal thoughts, a bit of heartbreak, minor violence
Beta: none
Notes: I was going to post this a little later today, but it's going to be a shit day so I'm posting it right now instead.
Chapter 2: Cure
Part 2: Talking Cure
Master Post
<< Previous Chapter
~*~
He did not want to cry. He didn’t. He was mature enough to handle this. He was above this, and he was better than this.
Slamming the door to his bedroom shut and ignoring the pictureframe that fell off the wall from the force, Arthur threw his backpack onto the bed and reminded himself one more of all of these things.
Then he said, “Damnit,” grabbed the water glass off his bedside table, and threw it at the opposite wall.
The sound of breaking glass did little to ease the tight, tight knot of frustrationangerhatefear in his heart. Stupid Kay and his stupid girlfriend and stupid everyone.
With shaking hands, he yanked off his uniform jacket, then the shirt and undershirt, not knowing or caring if he tore it, and lastly pulled off the straps holding his wings tight to his body, before standing there, body vibrating in anger, just staring at himself in the closet mirror-door, his wings, his-
Save Father and a few select doctors and scientists (and Morgana), the only other person to find out about his wings had been his childhood nanny. Father had deemed Arthur too old for her years ago, but just before she’d left, she’d pulled him close and whispered to him, “You’re beautiful, Arthur, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I don’t care how old you get, you’ll always be my angel.”
Arthur stared at his wings, and thought to her, you were wrong. People always thought of angels as pretty and holy and shit, seeing them in cartoons and B-movies and medieval paintings. But no, this was real life, and in real life, he was a freak of nature and she was wrong. Two species melded together, limbs being there that that did not belong. How many times had Father told him that mutation was a deviation in DNA? Something gone wrong, that’s what Arthur was.
(Was it the wings? Or was it Arthur?)
(Why him?)
With a shout of rage, he raised his fists and slammed them into the glass, shattering his image, breaking it and breaking it again and breaking, breaking, breaking.
This time, the glass shattering helped bleed off some of the rage, though maybe that was just the anger leaving in the blood spilling out of his hands. He didn’t care, though, because he only had to glimpse down to see the shards of mirror still mocking him, and abruptly turned away, still crying out, before falling down to his arse, legs splaying out as his knees fell out beneath the weight of his heavy heart, then just letting the weight carry him down more, falling back until he landed lying across the glass, hissing as it tore at his skin.
He lay there for a while, just breathing heavily and trying to let the anger leave with the blood seeping out of his skin and into his carpet, as he stared up at the ceiling.
The ceiling was blissfully blank, covered only in old glow in the dark stars from when they had first moved here, no glass or mirrors or pool parties to mock him, only badly mixed up constellations. He stayed there, staring up at his ceiling, until it was dark enough for them to properly glow, little pinpoints of phosphorescence.
He was still laying there when he heard Father shout from his doorway, “Arthur?!”
~*~
“Okay,” Gwen said later, as she and Merlin sat in the gardens together. “Let’s start with something simple – flowers.”
She held her hand above a bulb she had just pushed into the ground, and Merlin watched in amazement as suddenly, a sprout grew out of the ground, growing and growing, spreading small roots, and then there was a bud, and right before his eyes, it blossomed into a full flowered tulip.
“That’s amazing!” Merlin said. He looked around himself at the gardens. “Why don’t you do that for all these plants?”
She sighed. “With some plants, like trees, this works just fine. For others like flowers, making them grow faster will also make them die a little faster. So I have to balance it out, making them grow fast and strong without pouring in or taking so much energy that it ends up killing the plant…it’s a bit like overwatering it.”
Merlin nodded, and took a tulip bulb when she handed him one.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get started, then!”
~*~
Merlin was back on the bed shivering as Morgana sat on the opposite bed, pale and tense from pain but refusing to show it.
“You,” Merlin muttered. “Are a much stronger person than I am.”
She laughed. “I have it less than you, remember?”
Merlin nodded.
While the drawback made itself clear soon as she tried to manhandle him for the rest of the day, that night, Merlin let her power simmer in his veins as he went to sleep.
A scant few hours later, Morgana opened her door without surprise when he stood outside it, a trembling wreck.
“Did you see the plane crash?” Morgana asked quietly.
“No, I – I saw someone drowning,” Merlin said, perched on the edge of her bed. “I don’t even know who it was or where or-”
“May be nearby, the crash I saw was in the ocean,” Morgana said.
“What do you do?”
“I tell Gaius in the morning,” she said. “He can figure out who to alert to prevent it.”
Merlin nodded. “No wonder you never get enough sleep.”
She smiled sadly at him. “At least you can switch it off, remember?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But I won’t. Not until I help you.”
When both he and Morgana nearly drowned themselves in tea and coffee the next morning, Gwen spent the day looking up meditation practices between classes, and eventually, he and Morgana went to bed, Merlin trying different things.
It took several days of them trying different techniques, but by the end of the week, Morgana came to Merlin in the morning and hugged him close and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”
That night, they both slept soundly. The next day, everything that came on the news was a surprise to Morgana, and she delighted in it.
~*~
Merlin even took Gaius’ power. The old man had hooked himself and Merlin up to various monitors, then touched Merlin. Less than half an hour later, after checking on Merlin and telling him to sleep a little, he was puttering about the room muttering to himself, reading printouts from the monitors, and writing down other observations of the experience.
Merlin used a knife to slice open his palm, and with a little coaxing from Gaius, he sealed the thin cut completely, leaving not even a trace of a wound in the first place. It was tiny, and Gaius said he could heal much bigger things, and it was a start.
Gaius also said that eventually, Merlin’s DNA would expand on the power, leaving him able to heal much bigger wounds than even Gaius could manage now.
Staring down at his palm, Merlin wondered if he could do the same for Will and his spine.
He tried not to be maudlin about it, but it became difficult when he called his mother that night, intending to tell her about the news powers he was getting and how things were going at the school.
It started out fine, when he told her of his new power, Mum giggling and saying, “Maybe you can be a doctor, then, and I can be your nurse and show your patients your baby pictures-”
“Mum!” Merlin protested, laughing. “If anything, my living will soon come in the form of face painting.”
“Face painting?”
“Yeah, I’ve been co-opted, I’ll be painting all the kids’ faces on Halloween.”
She laughed. “Like always, then?”
“Yeah,” Merlin said, smiling. “I’ll send you some pictures. I’m getting a new Facebook, soon, so I can even post them there for you.”
“That would be lovely, Merlin,” she said, before he heard their doorbell ring in the background.
“I’ll go,” Merlin said, teasing. “Leave you to your hot date.”
“No, no,” Mum said, as Merlin heard her moving about the house. “You can talk to him.”
“Interviewing my future step-dad, then?” Merlin joked, despite knowing full well his mother had no intentions of marrying again anytime soon.
“Not quite,” she said, then he heard muffled noises and voices, as she probably pressed the phone against her skin.
Then, he heard Will’s voice on the phone, saying, “Er, hello? Hunith said I’m to speak to you, whoever this is…?”
Merlin sat there on his bed, stunned.
“…hel-lo?”
“…Will?” Merlin mumbled.
“Merlin?!” Will cried out.
“You two need to talk,” Mum said. “Please. For me.”
He didn’t hear where she went on that end, but for a while, there was silence.
Then, Will said, “Your mum says you’re at a mutant school of some sort?”
“Umm…yeah,” Merlin said. “It’s – it’s Camelot Academy.”
Will sighed. “I know, I looked it up ages ago. I think I wrote something on it ages ago.”
“You did?” Merlin asked.
“…I was thinking we should have sent you there sooner, until I remembered it was attacked, once,” Will said, voice monotone and detached.
“Yeah, yeah…Mum says you’re walking, now?”
“Two or three steps at a time,” Will said. “Not exactly running sprints or marathons, now, am I?”
Merlin shut his eyes, flopping back on his bed. “I’m sorry.”
“You better be,” Will growled. “Do you know the team lost their last two games without me? I am not trying to be arrogant, Merlin, but they needed me-”
“I’m sorry!” Merlin cried out. “I am, I – I’m getting better, though, Will. I can control my powers and I’m even getting new ones!”
“…getting new ones?” Will asked.
“Yeah,” Merlin said. “Between a bunch of my friends, I can now read minds, turn into small animals, control and move plant life and speed up and slow down their growth, have dreams of the future, heal people by touch, and fly.”
There was silence, then, “Bloody hell!” Will said, tone saying he’s forgotten momentarily that he hates Merlin. “You’ve been busy!”
An involuntary laugh burst out of Merlin. “You could say that. The girl who can dream the future, you’d love her. I told Mum if you were a girl, you’d probably be her. All cheerful and bitter at the same time and arguing over everything. And an unhealthy obsession with my wardrobe.”
This time, the involuntary laugh came from Will, before he seemed to sober up again. “…you got new clothes, then? Your Mum said you didn’t take yours.”
“Yeah,” Merlin said, voice quiet again as he remembered packing to run away. “There’s a…there’s his village near the school – it’s like Hogwarts, the school’s a castle, professors, House-based lounges, village nearby, it’s brilliant. And in the village there’s this mutant girl who used to go here and designs clothes, and tailors a lot of hers to mutants. She made a bunch of stuff for me so I don’t have to wear too many thing and can still be completely covered up, so I don’t touch another mutant skin-to-skin by accident.”
“Sounds nice,” Will said, voice oddly hoarse. “School for mutants, village…you sound…okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin mumbled.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Will said, voice suddenly snappish, almost angry. “You know me better than that, Merlin.”
“It’s not – I am sorry, Will,” Merlin said. “I – I saw your blog. I’ve been keeping updated on how you are.”
“You shut down your Facebook and Twitter accounts,” Will said. “And you haven’t updated your blog since you left here. Or your DevArt.”
Merlin tried not to feel touched that Will had checked up on his online presence.
“I know,” Merlin said. “I’m – I’m getting a new Facebook soon. When I…when I…soon.” When I’m not scared anymore. “This school has a network. I’mna be facepainting on Halloween, I can send you pictures. These little kids are all so sweet, and some of them have been through so much.”
“I…I’m glad,” Will said. “To hear you’re all right.” A pause. Then, “You’re not going to paint a dick on anyone’s forehead again, are you?”
For one brief moment, it was like old times again, as they laughed and laughed as they remembered the time some of the boys in their Year Eight class had managed to goad Merlin into painting dicks all over their faces – including Will.
Their laughter died off, and then Will said, “Your Mum also said you found out something about yours powers, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”
Merlin froze, feeling himself go cold.
“It’s – it’s nothing.”
“Merlin,” Will said.
“…Gaius, the doctor here – he says…he says I’m a Class V.”
Silence.
Silence.
More silence.
“Will?”
“Fuck,” Will said. “You- fuck!”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said again.
“Don’t be!” Will snapped. “Just – don’t be, all right?!” He sighed. “How are your friends taking that, then, your new ones?”
“I haven’t told them,” Merlin said, hoping that would placate the hints of jealousy he could hear in Will’s voice.
“But you’re telling me?” Will asked bitterly.
“…they’re not my best friends,” Merlin said. “You are. Were.”
“Are,” Will said.
More silence.
“I’m…I’m glad to hear you’re okay, Merlin,” Will said. There was a slight bitterness to his voice. Merlin pondered telling Will about maybe being about to heal his spine one day, but then decided against it for now. He didn’t know if he would, and he’s hurt Will enough – getting his hopes up would only make things worse.
“Thanks,” Merlin said. “I’m happy to hear you’re getting better.”
“…are you…are you going to come home at all?” Will asked. “For Christmas or anything?”
“I dunno,” Merlin said. “I’m up in stupid Scotland, and…it’s safe here.”
“I hope you do,” Will said. “The tree is going to turn out shit without you here.”
Merlin smiled. “I’ll…I’ll try.”
After a few more moments of inane chatter, Merlin hung up, needing to get his homework done and go practice meditating some more with Morgana, and flying with Lance.
That night, he signed up for a new Facebook, and within an hour of sending the friend request Will confirmed him, as Merlin started friending others from Camelot.
The next day, he saw Will’s blog, celebrating talking to his friend again, and Leon came and sat curled up at Merlin’s side, a warm ball of comfort and reassurance as Merlin read through the comments on the post before leaving a single “thanks” in response.
The next day, he updated his art blog and DevArt. It was just a sketch of the school, but he ambiguously called it ‘Camelot’.
By nightfall, Will had left his comment, Fucking hell it is Hogwarts!, and Merlin nearly cried as he laughed. Will hadn’t called again or said anything else, but this – this was most definitely a start. And a good one.
~*~
Father had spent the last hour looking after Arthur. He’d pulled Arthur carefully up, taken him to the bathroom to pull the glass out of his back and wings and cleaned off the blood and lathered layers of liquid bandage over everything, before sending Arthur to his own bed to sleep, or at least lay there quietly while he called someone in to clean up the mess in Arthur’s rooms.
He’d lain in the dark, curling around the pillows as he heard the sound, heard Father tell some late-night cleaning service about Arthur tripping and slamming headfirst into the mirror. He clutched the pillows tighter in to his chest as he heard the glass cleared away, the scrubbing of the carpet, Father’s thanks and payments.
Once they were gone, Arthur was sat on the couch, holding a sushi plate in front of him with some Japanese beer father got on his last business trip sitting on the tea table.
Father was seated beside him, quietly making his way through his own sushi and beer, waiting until he was halfway through before saying, “So what brought this on, then?”
Arthur sighed. “It’s…it’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” Father said quietly, taking another bite of his sushi.
“…Kay’s girlfriend is holding some stupid pool party,” Arthur said. “Before it gets too cold. And I just – I wanted to go. But – it’s not like I can keep my jacket it on, right? Either it’ll get wet or cling to my back or some prick is going to yank it off or- I couldn’t. So I said no. But…” He bit his lip. “I wanted to. Just this once. I haven’t been swimming in so long and it’s just a stupid party and-”
He stopped himself by taking another bite of sushi.
Father just sighed.
“Arthur,” Father said. “You will be rid of these wings, soon, and then you can go to all the pool parties you want and enjoy all the swimming you want. But you can’t just keep hurting yourself until then.” He took a bite of sushi and said, “Let’s put off replacing the mirror this time for a few weeks until after your wings are gone?”
Biting his lip, flushing, Arthur nodded. He supposed they should have just not replaced the mirror last time Arthur did this. But then, that was almost a year ago.
“…do you think there will be a lot of scars left?” Arthur asked. “Once they’re gone?”
“Probably some, though some will disappear with it. If it’s too many, we can get some cosmetic surgery to fix it, though if it’s just a few we can leave them, uphold the lies about you needing back surgery.”
Arthur nodded, finishing his own sushi and setting down the plate and chopsticks on the table. “I just – I hate these wings. It’s not even the wings, it’s what they do to me!”
Uther rubbed the side of Arthur’s neck paternally, before gripping Arthur’s hand as Arthur leaned his head against his father’s strong shoulder as if he were little again. He couldn’t wait to get rid of his wings (if nothing else, so his father could hug him again without having to brace himself, first).
“It’s okay to be hurt, Arthur,” Uther said. “And angry and scared. But just hold on, okay? Just another week and a half and you will be free.”
Arthur nodded, not bothering to try and muster up a smile. Not much longer. Not much longer at all.
~*~
One downside of having absorbed Morgana’s power was just how much she was abusing her opportunity to touch Merlin.
“I don’t need more clothes!” he protested as she dragged him towards Avalon Apparel. “My wardrobe is fine!”
“Yes, but I can make it ‘good’…then we’ll move on to great.”
Based on her definition of ‘good’, Merlin didn’t want to see great, and promptly tried to fly away, utilizing his ‘lessons’ with Lancelot, but Morgana just clung onto his ankle and Merlin wasn’t good enough to lift someone else with him yet so he ended up being dragged by her again like a balloon.
Behind and below him, Gwen was laughing, while Lance, flying behind them, was just rolling his eyes.
“Just go along with it,” Lance said. “And get it over with. She does this to everyone.”
Inside, Sophia took one look at the flying boys and said, “Either of you get stuck up there and you’re on your own.”
“Duly noted,” Merlin said. “Just tell Morgana to let me go and I’ll leave the store completely and-”
“Not a chance,” Morgana said blithely. “So, Sophia, what’ve you got?”
Which was how Merlin up loaded down with bags of clothing, again, some of it ridiculously thin but all of it covering. There were a lot of turtlenecks, arm warmers, high-ankle socks, some scarves, a bunch of hats, many of it in thin linens or mesh and lace type things which Merlin felt looked absolutely ridiculous but the others just seemed to love…what was one supposed to do with all these clothes?
“Wear them,” Morgana answered, and Merlin just sighed as she paid Sophia.
In a vengeful fit, he shoved the bags at her and stomped over to where Gwen and Lance were watching a telly and chatting with the man who ran the coffee shop down the street.
“…new iPhone isn’t actually all that different,” Lance said. “Mostly a revamped version of the old one-”
“Ah, but the OS isn’t the main point, is it?” the coffee-shop bloke answered. “The features, features! Oh, and you have to admit the processing power is much better…”
Merlin stopped listening at that point, especially as the advert for the iPhone in question disappeared on the TV, returning to the actual news, and instead turned to Gwen.
“How do you put up with that?” Merlin asked, gesturing to where Lance and the bloke were arguing about the merits of some computer thingy that Merlin didn’t bother to understand.
“Eh – he knows better than to get me to understand,” Gwen said, lazily getting the plants in the window sill to sway in time with some trees outside. “Unless it has to do with how environmentally friendly something is.”
Merlin laughed, taking over one of the plants and getting it to sway in a slightly different pattern that Gwen responded to, as if the plants were dancing.
“So Leon says you’re talking to your friend Will again?” Gwen asked.
“Yeah,” Merlin said, not hiding the big grin on his face. He was helping others with his powers, learning more about his own, he and Mum were bonding again, and Will was talking to him again. Life was good.
“You look so much happier, Merlin,” Gwen said. “It’s lovely to see.”
“Thanks,” Merlin said. “You too.”
Gwen smiled. “Thank you, too.”
“Of course,” Merlin said. “On your end it might have something to do with those rumors about you and Lance going to each other’s rooms at night…?”
Gwen blushed furiously, and Merlin laughed.
“It’s nothing lewd, Merlin!” Gwen insisted.
“I’m sure it isn’t,” Merlin said, with a Serious Face that wasn’t very Serious.
“I’m serious!” Gwen said, punching his arms. “There’s nothing going on between us. It’s…perfectly…innocent between…us…”
Merlin frowned as the mirth suddenly left her face. She was staring up at the telly behind him, and Merlin turned to see the news tagline, Pendragon Inc CEO Announces Cure for Mutants.
He used his telekinesis to turn up the volume, until the shop was silent as they watched.
“I’m coming to you live from the press conference taking place in the lobby of Pendragon Inc’s main headquarters,” a reporter said, from outside a tall, sleek tower in the middle of London’s business district. “Where Uther Pendragon is expounding on his corporation’s press release that they have discovered a cure for mutant DNA!”
Then camera cut to a room full of staff in business suits and reporters, with the infamous Uther Pendragon, head anti-mutant activist of Britain and massive global medical research tycoon, was walking up to a podium to a slew of questions from the reporters. But he stood there silently until everyone calmed down, then started speaking.
“Many of you know me by the rumors and media deceits used to make me a caricature,” Pendragon started. “As someone who hates mutants. I do not. I have stated several times that I do not hate them at all. I do not hate patients for being sick, which is what mutants are.”
“Sick,” Morgana hissed with a disgust and hatred Merlin had never heard the likes of from her direction.
“But while many others seek to ostracize mutants, to hurt them for the misfortune of being born ill and deformed in body and heart-”
“Heart?!” Morgana cried out again. “Who the fuck does he think he is?”
“-I have sought to help them, all my life, to cure them. And we have finally done it. Today, I stand here before you, before the country, and before the world – and before every mutant in it – offering a cure. We have found a way to reverse unnatural mutations, to take deformed genes and make them human again.”
He held out his arm to the side, beckoning someone forward. A boy, about their age, came on, his otherwise-handsome teen face marred by burns and twisted skin.
“Meet Edwin Myrddin,” Pendragon said, draping his arm gently over the boy’s shoulders, as if the boy were a favored nephew, or his son. “He was born with the misfortune of fire under his command, a command he did not have. Minor tantrums of childhood could become disasters when fire grew out of his control. He feared all forms of it, from stoves to fireplaces to emergency candles. A force that has brought humanity light, heat, and strength for thousands of years has become a source of trauma and frustration. Simply being near him could cause fire to erupt out of control, a tragedy that came to a head when he lost control as a child, and burned down his home – his parents still inside of it.”
Edwin winced on screen, and Pendragon patted his shoulder sympathetically, before gesturing to someone behind the camera and stepping out of the way as a projector came to light, playing some sort of video clip.
Gwen clutched at Merlin’s hand as the screen on the, well, newscaster’s screen came to life, and it appeared to be an office or lab of some kind, with a very young-looking Edwin, maybe ten years ago, sitting on an examination table, a doctor in front of him and holding up cards with math and word problems on them, the little boy clearly concentrating on them as he struggled to answer them in his head.
Five meters behind the boy, another lab person walked in quietly, holding a candle with a small, small flame.
“As you can see,” Pendragon said from next to the projection screen, just at the edge of the telly screen. “The boy is heavily concentrating on something else, and does not even know the fire is there.”
The lab person carefully stepped forward, a little counter at the bottom of the screen going down, showing distance as the lab person approached the boy silently from behind. At three and a half meters, the candle flame jumped, growing bigger and bigger until it was almost like a small fire.
By two meters, the assistant had to hold the candle away from her as the flame grew to the size of her heard. Just one step forward and it almost doubled in size, until it was almost towering over her.
Then the boy on the screen saw shadows, turned around, and promptly screamed as he scrambled off the table and away from the flame, cowering in the opposite corner of the room, the flame lowering as he was well over several meters away again – but still remaining unnaturally large, now that he was looking at it.
The clip ended, and some doctor person was holding onto a shaking, older Edwin’s arm as Pendragon stood back up at the podium.
“That was the young man you see before you almost eight years ago,” Uther said. “Fire responded drastically to him even as he tried not to do anything at all.”
Someone brought a candle forward live in the lobby, and several people stepped back as the person holding it approached Edwin with it. The boy was staring at it, but he did not move, and even when the person stood right in front of him with the candle, nothing happened. Edwin even raised a hand and slowly ran his fingers right through the flame, with no response.
Several people in the room gasped as Edwin held up his hand, then looked at the line of soot across it and grimaced, letting out a very teenage, “Ew.”
As the room filled with bubbly laughter, more out of relief and joy from the demonstration than Edwin’s teenage fuss, Pendragon said, “The boys stands here before you, cured of his affliction. This cure we now offer to the world.”
The press room exploded with questions, but Merlin couldn’t hear them anymore.
He lowered his gaze and looked around the shop. Gwen, Lance, Sophia, and the four other mutants in the room all looked stunned.
Morgana looked furious and ill.
Merlin just felt destroyed, before slowly looking down at his hands.
Cured. He could – it could be gone. He could get rid of-
“Don’t even think about it, Merlin,” Morgana said harshly, finishing paying a dazed Sophia before snatching the bags and stomping out, the other three behind her. “We’re all just fine the way we are. We don’t need a cure. We’re not sick.”
Merlin shut his eyes.
“Then why do I feel like it?” Merlin asked quietly. But no one else heard him over their own shock and rage. A cure, a cure for being a mutant.
Merlin could be free.
~*~
Next Chapter >>
Master Post
~*~
A/N: Again, crap day, so please leave reviews so when I get home and die I have something to cheer me up and send me to special hell with a smile on my face.
Feel free to check out a nice, porny preview snippet of my not-as-up-and-coming-as-I-would-like fic...with the working title of "slut training Gwaine fic" (no, really, that's all the plot there is- it's a part of my Master and Servant series).
Next Chapter, 2.3 - Fight: It's like pulling petals off a daisy: "I'll get the cure. I won't. I need the cure. I don't." Except daisies eventually give you answers. People don't. Especially not annoying sisters, well-meaning friends, and sympathetic headmasters. But most of all, the last one to get an answer from is the one whose answer you need the most: yourself.
Chapter: 2.2 - Cure
Rating: R
Summary: X-Men AU: For many downtrodden mutants, rejected throughout a lifetime of unwelcome blood dictating their lives, Camelot Academy is not just a school - it's a home. But something dark is brewing, and Camelot is no longer as safe as it appears.
Word Count: 4950
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen, Lancelot, Morgana, Gwaine, Uther
Chapter Warnings/Content: self-injury/self-mutilation, self-hatred, passing suicidal thoughts, a bit of heartbreak, minor violence
Beta: none
Notes: I was going to post this a little later today, but it's going to be a shit day so I'm posting it right now instead.
Chapter 2: Cure
Part 2: Talking Cure
<< Previous Chapter
~*~
He did not want to cry. He didn’t. He was mature enough to handle this. He was above this, and he was better than this.
Slamming the door to his bedroom shut and ignoring the pictureframe that fell off the wall from the force, Arthur threw his backpack onto the bed and reminded himself one more of all of these things.
Then he said, “Damnit,” grabbed the water glass off his bedside table, and threw it at the opposite wall.
The sound of breaking glass did little to ease the tight, tight knot of frustrationangerhatefear in his heart. Stupid Kay and his stupid girlfriend and stupid everyone.
With shaking hands, he yanked off his uniform jacket, then the shirt and undershirt, not knowing or caring if he tore it, and lastly pulled off the straps holding his wings tight to his body, before standing there, body vibrating in anger, just staring at himself in the closet mirror-door, his wings, his-
Save Father and a few select doctors and scientists (and Morgana), the only other person to find out about his wings had been his childhood nanny. Father had deemed Arthur too old for her years ago, but just before she’d left, she’d pulled him close and whispered to him, “You’re beautiful, Arthur, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I don’t care how old you get, you’ll always be my angel.”
Arthur stared at his wings, and thought to her, you were wrong. People always thought of angels as pretty and holy and shit, seeing them in cartoons and B-movies and medieval paintings. But no, this was real life, and in real life, he was a freak of nature and she was wrong. Two species melded together, limbs being there that that did not belong. How many times had Father told him that mutation was a deviation in DNA? Something gone wrong, that’s what Arthur was.
(Was it the wings? Or was it Arthur?)
(Why him?)
With a shout of rage, he raised his fists and slammed them into the glass, shattering his image, breaking it and breaking it again and breaking, breaking, breaking.
This time, the glass shattering helped bleed off some of the rage, though maybe that was just the anger leaving in the blood spilling out of his hands. He didn’t care, though, because he only had to glimpse down to see the shards of mirror still mocking him, and abruptly turned away, still crying out, before falling down to his arse, legs splaying out as his knees fell out beneath the weight of his heavy heart, then just letting the weight carry him down more, falling back until he landed lying across the glass, hissing as it tore at his skin.
He lay there for a while, just breathing heavily and trying to let the anger leave with the blood seeping out of his skin and into his carpet, as he stared up at the ceiling.
The ceiling was blissfully blank, covered only in old glow in the dark stars from when they had first moved here, no glass or mirrors or pool parties to mock him, only badly mixed up constellations. He stayed there, staring up at his ceiling, until it was dark enough for them to properly glow, little pinpoints of phosphorescence.
He was still laying there when he heard Father shout from his doorway, “Arthur?!”
“Okay,” Gwen said later, as she and Merlin sat in the gardens together. “Let’s start with something simple – flowers.”
She held her hand above a bulb she had just pushed into the ground, and Merlin watched in amazement as suddenly, a sprout grew out of the ground, growing and growing, spreading small roots, and then there was a bud, and right before his eyes, it blossomed into a full flowered tulip.
“That’s amazing!” Merlin said. He looked around himself at the gardens. “Why don’t you do that for all these plants?”
She sighed. “With some plants, like trees, this works just fine. For others like flowers, making them grow faster will also make them die a little faster. So I have to balance it out, making them grow fast and strong without pouring in or taking so much energy that it ends up killing the plant…it’s a bit like overwatering it.”
Merlin nodded, and took a tulip bulb when she handed him one.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get started, then!”
Merlin was back on the bed shivering as Morgana sat on the opposite bed, pale and tense from pain but refusing to show it.
“You,” Merlin muttered. “Are a much stronger person than I am.”
She laughed. “I have it less than you, remember?”
Merlin nodded.
While the drawback made itself clear soon as she tried to manhandle him for the rest of the day, that night, Merlin let her power simmer in his veins as he went to sleep.
A scant few hours later, Morgana opened her door without surprise when he stood outside it, a trembling wreck.
“Did you see the plane crash?” Morgana asked quietly.
“No, I – I saw someone drowning,” Merlin said, perched on the edge of her bed. “I don’t even know who it was or where or-”
“May be nearby, the crash I saw was in the ocean,” Morgana said.
“What do you do?”
“I tell Gaius in the morning,” she said. “He can figure out who to alert to prevent it.”
Merlin nodded. “No wonder you never get enough sleep.”
She smiled sadly at him. “At least you can switch it off, remember?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But I won’t. Not until I help you.”
When both he and Morgana nearly drowned themselves in tea and coffee the next morning, Gwen spent the day looking up meditation practices between classes, and eventually, he and Morgana went to bed, Merlin trying different things.
It took several days of them trying different techniques, but by the end of the week, Morgana came to Merlin in the morning and hugged him close and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.”
That night, they both slept soundly. The next day, everything that came on the news was a surprise to Morgana, and she delighted in it.
Merlin even took Gaius’ power. The old man had hooked himself and Merlin up to various monitors, then touched Merlin. Less than half an hour later, after checking on Merlin and telling him to sleep a little, he was puttering about the room muttering to himself, reading printouts from the monitors, and writing down other observations of the experience.
Merlin used a knife to slice open his palm, and with a little coaxing from Gaius, he sealed the thin cut completely, leaving not even a trace of a wound in the first place. It was tiny, and Gaius said he could heal much bigger things, and it was a start.
Gaius also said that eventually, Merlin’s DNA would expand on the power, leaving him able to heal much bigger wounds than even Gaius could manage now.
Staring down at his palm, Merlin wondered if he could do the same for Will and his spine.
He tried not to be maudlin about it, but it became difficult when he called his mother that night, intending to tell her about the news powers he was getting and how things were going at the school.
It started out fine, when he told her of his new power, Mum giggling and saying, “Maybe you can be a doctor, then, and I can be your nurse and show your patients your baby pictures-”
“Mum!” Merlin protested, laughing. “If anything, my living will soon come in the form of face painting.”
“Face painting?”
“Yeah, I’ve been co-opted, I’ll be painting all the kids’ faces on Halloween.”
She laughed. “Like always, then?”
“Yeah,” Merlin said, smiling. “I’ll send you some pictures. I’m getting a new Facebook, soon, so I can even post them there for you.”
“That would be lovely, Merlin,” she said, before he heard their doorbell ring in the background.
“I’ll go,” Merlin said, teasing. “Leave you to your hot date.”
“No, no,” Mum said, as Merlin heard her moving about the house. “You can talk to him.”
“Interviewing my future step-dad, then?” Merlin joked, despite knowing full well his mother had no intentions of marrying again anytime soon.
“Not quite,” she said, then he heard muffled noises and voices, as she probably pressed the phone against her skin.
Then, he heard Will’s voice on the phone, saying, “Er, hello? Hunith said I’m to speak to you, whoever this is…?”
Merlin sat there on his bed, stunned.
“…hel-lo?”
“…Will?” Merlin mumbled.
“Merlin?!” Will cried out.
“You two need to talk,” Mum said. “Please. For me.”
He didn’t hear where she went on that end, but for a while, there was silence.
Then, Will said, “Your mum says you’re at a mutant school of some sort?”
“Umm…yeah,” Merlin said. “It’s – it’s Camelot Academy.”
Will sighed. “I know, I looked it up ages ago. I think I wrote something on it ages ago.”
“You did?” Merlin asked.
“…I was thinking we should have sent you there sooner, until I remembered it was attacked, once,” Will said, voice monotone and detached.
“Yeah, yeah…Mum says you’re walking, now?”
“Two or three steps at a time,” Will said. “Not exactly running sprints or marathons, now, am I?”
Merlin shut his eyes, flopping back on his bed. “I’m sorry.”
“You better be,” Will growled. “Do you know the team lost their last two games without me? I am not trying to be arrogant, Merlin, but they needed me-”
“I’m sorry!” Merlin cried out. “I am, I – I’m getting better, though, Will. I can control my powers and I’m even getting new ones!”
“…getting new ones?” Will asked.
“Yeah,” Merlin said. “Between a bunch of my friends, I can now read minds, turn into small animals, control and move plant life and speed up and slow down their growth, have dreams of the future, heal people by touch, and fly.”
There was silence, then, “Bloody hell!” Will said, tone saying he’s forgotten momentarily that he hates Merlin. “You’ve been busy!”
An involuntary laugh burst out of Merlin. “You could say that. The girl who can dream the future, you’d love her. I told Mum if you were a girl, you’d probably be her. All cheerful and bitter at the same time and arguing over everything. And an unhealthy obsession with my wardrobe.”
This time, the involuntary laugh came from Will, before he seemed to sober up again. “…you got new clothes, then? Your Mum said you didn’t take yours.”
“Yeah,” Merlin said, voice quiet again as he remembered packing to run away. “There’s a…there’s his village near the school – it’s like Hogwarts, the school’s a castle, professors, House-based lounges, village nearby, it’s brilliant. And in the village there’s this mutant girl who used to go here and designs clothes, and tailors a lot of hers to mutants. She made a bunch of stuff for me so I don’t have to wear too many thing and can still be completely covered up, so I don’t touch another mutant skin-to-skin by accident.”
“Sounds nice,” Will said, voice oddly hoarse. “School for mutants, village…you sound…okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin mumbled.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Will said, voice suddenly snappish, almost angry. “You know me better than that, Merlin.”
“It’s not – I am sorry, Will,” Merlin said. “I – I saw your blog. I’ve been keeping updated on how you are.”
“You shut down your Facebook and Twitter accounts,” Will said. “And you haven’t updated your blog since you left here. Or your DevArt.”
Merlin tried not to feel touched that Will had checked up on his online presence.
“I know,” Merlin said. “I’m – I’m getting a new Facebook soon. When I…when I…soon.” When I’m not scared anymore. “This school has a network. I’mna be facepainting on Halloween, I can send you pictures. These little kids are all so sweet, and some of them have been through so much.”
“I…I’m glad,” Will said. “To hear you’re all right.” A pause. Then, “You’re not going to paint a dick on anyone’s forehead again, are you?”
For one brief moment, it was like old times again, as they laughed and laughed as they remembered the time some of the boys in their Year Eight class had managed to goad Merlin into painting dicks all over their faces – including Will.
Their laughter died off, and then Will said, “Your Mum also said you found out something about yours powers, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”
Merlin froze, feeling himself go cold.
“It’s – it’s nothing.”
“Merlin,” Will said.
“…Gaius, the doctor here – he says…he says I’m a Class V.”
Silence.
Silence.
More silence.
“Will?”
“Fuck,” Will said. “You- fuck!”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said again.
“Don’t be!” Will snapped. “Just – don’t be, all right?!” He sighed. “How are your friends taking that, then, your new ones?”
“I haven’t told them,” Merlin said, hoping that would placate the hints of jealousy he could hear in Will’s voice.
“But you’re telling me?” Will asked bitterly.
“…they’re not my best friends,” Merlin said. “You are. Were.”
“Are,” Will said.
More silence.
“I’m…I’m glad to hear you’re okay, Merlin,” Will said. There was a slight bitterness to his voice. Merlin pondered telling Will about maybe being about to heal his spine one day, but then decided against it for now. He didn’t know if he would, and he’s hurt Will enough – getting his hopes up would only make things worse.
“Thanks,” Merlin said. “I’m happy to hear you’re getting better.”
“…are you…are you going to come home at all?” Will asked. “For Christmas or anything?”
“I dunno,” Merlin said. “I’m up in stupid Scotland, and…it’s safe here.”
“I hope you do,” Will said. “The tree is going to turn out shit without you here.”
Merlin smiled. “I’ll…I’ll try.”
After a few more moments of inane chatter, Merlin hung up, needing to get his homework done and go practice meditating some more with Morgana, and flying with Lance.
That night, he signed up for a new Facebook, and within an hour of sending the friend request Will confirmed him, as Merlin started friending others from Camelot.
The next day, he saw Will’s blog, celebrating talking to his friend again, and Leon came and sat curled up at Merlin’s side, a warm ball of comfort and reassurance as Merlin read through the comments on the post before leaving a single “thanks” in response.
The next day, he updated his art blog and DevArt. It was just a sketch of the school, but he ambiguously called it ‘Camelot’.
By nightfall, Will had left his comment, Fucking hell it is Hogwarts!, and Merlin nearly cried as he laughed. Will hadn’t called again or said anything else, but this – this was most definitely a start. And a good one.
Father had spent the last hour looking after Arthur. He’d pulled Arthur carefully up, taken him to the bathroom to pull the glass out of his back and wings and cleaned off the blood and lathered layers of liquid bandage over everything, before sending Arthur to his own bed to sleep, or at least lay there quietly while he called someone in to clean up the mess in Arthur’s rooms.
He’d lain in the dark, curling around the pillows as he heard the sound, heard Father tell some late-night cleaning service about Arthur tripping and slamming headfirst into the mirror. He clutched the pillows tighter in to his chest as he heard the glass cleared away, the scrubbing of the carpet, Father’s thanks and payments.
Once they were gone, Arthur was sat on the couch, holding a sushi plate in front of him with some Japanese beer father got on his last business trip sitting on the tea table.
Father was seated beside him, quietly making his way through his own sushi and beer, waiting until he was halfway through before saying, “So what brought this on, then?”
Arthur sighed. “It’s…it’s stupid.”
“Tell me,” Father said quietly, taking another bite of his sushi.
“…Kay’s girlfriend is holding some stupid pool party,” Arthur said. “Before it gets too cold. And I just – I wanted to go. But – it’s not like I can keep my jacket it on, right? Either it’ll get wet or cling to my back or some prick is going to yank it off or- I couldn’t. So I said no. But…” He bit his lip. “I wanted to. Just this once. I haven’t been swimming in so long and it’s just a stupid party and-”
He stopped himself by taking another bite of sushi.
Father just sighed.
“Arthur,” Father said. “You will be rid of these wings, soon, and then you can go to all the pool parties you want and enjoy all the swimming you want. But you can’t just keep hurting yourself until then.” He took a bite of sushi and said, “Let’s put off replacing the mirror this time for a few weeks until after your wings are gone?”
Biting his lip, flushing, Arthur nodded. He supposed they should have just not replaced the mirror last time Arthur did this. But then, that was almost a year ago.
“…do you think there will be a lot of scars left?” Arthur asked. “Once they’re gone?”
“Probably some, though some will disappear with it. If it’s too many, we can get some cosmetic surgery to fix it, though if it’s just a few we can leave them, uphold the lies about you needing back surgery.”
Arthur nodded, finishing his own sushi and setting down the plate and chopsticks on the table. “I just – I hate these wings. It’s not even the wings, it’s what they do to me!”
Uther rubbed the side of Arthur’s neck paternally, before gripping Arthur’s hand as Arthur leaned his head against his father’s strong shoulder as if he were little again. He couldn’t wait to get rid of his wings (if nothing else, so his father could hug him again without having to brace himself, first).
“It’s okay to be hurt, Arthur,” Uther said. “And angry and scared. But just hold on, okay? Just another week and a half and you will be free.”
Arthur nodded, not bothering to try and muster up a smile. Not much longer. Not much longer at all.
One downside of having absorbed Morgana’s power was just how much she was abusing her opportunity to touch Merlin.
“I don’t need more clothes!” he protested as she dragged him towards Avalon Apparel. “My wardrobe is fine!”
“Yes, but I can make it ‘good’…then we’ll move on to great.”
Based on her definition of ‘good’, Merlin didn’t want to see great, and promptly tried to fly away, utilizing his ‘lessons’ with Lancelot, but Morgana just clung onto his ankle and Merlin wasn’t good enough to lift someone else with him yet so he ended up being dragged by her again like a balloon.
Behind and below him, Gwen was laughing, while Lance, flying behind them, was just rolling his eyes.
“Just go along with it,” Lance said. “And get it over with. She does this to everyone.”
Inside, Sophia took one look at the flying boys and said, “Either of you get stuck up there and you’re on your own.”
“Duly noted,” Merlin said. “Just tell Morgana to let me go and I’ll leave the store completely and-”
“Not a chance,” Morgana said blithely. “So, Sophia, what’ve you got?”
Which was how Merlin up loaded down with bags of clothing, again, some of it ridiculously thin but all of it covering. There were a lot of turtlenecks, arm warmers, high-ankle socks, some scarves, a bunch of hats, many of it in thin linens or mesh and lace type things which Merlin felt looked absolutely ridiculous but the others just seemed to love…what was one supposed to do with all these clothes?
“Wear them,” Morgana answered, and Merlin just sighed as she paid Sophia.
In a vengeful fit, he shoved the bags at her and stomped over to where Gwen and Lance were watching a telly and chatting with the man who ran the coffee shop down the street.
“…new iPhone isn’t actually all that different,” Lance said. “Mostly a revamped version of the old one-”
“Ah, but the OS isn’t the main point, is it?” the coffee-shop bloke answered. “The features, features! Oh, and you have to admit the processing power is much better…”
Merlin stopped listening at that point, especially as the advert for the iPhone in question disappeared on the TV, returning to the actual news, and instead turned to Gwen.
“How do you put up with that?” Merlin asked, gesturing to where Lance and the bloke were arguing about the merits of some computer thingy that Merlin didn’t bother to understand.
“Eh – he knows better than to get me to understand,” Gwen said, lazily getting the plants in the window sill to sway in time with some trees outside. “Unless it has to do with how environmentally friendly something is.”
Merlin laughed, taking over one of the plants and getting it to sway in a slightly different pattern that Gwen responded to, as if the plants were dancing.
“So Leon says you’re talking to your friend Will again?” Gwen asked.
“Yeah,” Merlin said, not hiding the big grin on his face. He was helping others with his powers, learning more about his own, he and Mum were bonding again, and Will was talking to him again. Life was good.
“You look so much happier, Merlin,” Gwen said. “It’s lovely to see.”
“Thanks,” Merlin said. “You too.”
Gwen smiled. “Thank you, too.”
“Of course,” Merlin said. “On your end it might have something to do with those rumors about you and Lance going to each other’s rooms at night…?”
Gwen blushed furiously, and Merlin laughed.
“It’s nothing lewd, Merlin!” Gwen insisted.
“I’m sure it isn’t,” Merlin said, with a Serious Face that wasn’t very Serious.
“I’m serious!” Gwen said, punching his arms. “There’s nothing going on between us. It’s…perfectly…innocent between…us…”
Merlin frowned as the mirth suddenly left her face. She was staring up at the telly behind him, and Merlin turned to see the news tagline, Pendragon Inc CEO Announces Cure for Mutants.
He used his telekinesis to turn up the volume, until the shop was silent as they watched.
“I’m coming to you live from the press conference taking place in the lobby of Pendragon Inc’s main headquarters,” a reporter said, from outside a tall, sleek tower in the middle of London’s business district. “Where Uther Pendragon is expounding on his corporation’s press release that they have discovered a cure for mutant DNA!”
Then camera cut to a room full of staff in business suits and reporters, with the infamous Uther Pendragon, head anti-mutant activist of Britain and massive global medical research tycoon, was walking up to a podium to a slew of questions from the reporters. But he stood there silently until everyone calmed down, then started speaking.
“Many of you know me by the rumors and media deceits used to make me a caricature,” Pendragon started. “As someone who hates mutants. I do not. I have stated several times that I do not hate them at all. I do not hate patients for being sick, which is what mutants are.”
“Sick,” Morgana hissed with a disgust and hatred Merlin had never heard the likes of from her direction.
“But while many others seek to ostracize mutants, to hurt them for the misfortune of being born ill and deformed in body and heart-”
“Heart?!” Morgana cried out again. “Who the fuck does he think he is?”
“-I have sought to help them, all my life, to cure them. And we have finally done it. Today, I stand here before you, before the country, and before the world – and before every mutant in it – offering a cure. We have found a way to reverse unnatural mutations, to take deformed genes and make them human again.”
He held out his arm to the side, beckoning someone forward. A boy, about their age, came on, his otherwise-handsome teen face marred by burns and twisted skin.
“Meet Edwin Myrddin,” Pendragon said, draping his arm gently over the boy’s shoulders, as if the boy were a favored nephew, or his son. “He was born with the misfortune of fire under his command, a command he did not have. Minor tantrums of childhood could become disasters when fire grew out of his control. He feared all forms of it, from stoves to fireplaces to emergency candles. A force that has brought humanity light, heat, and strength for thousands of years has become a source of trauma and frustration. Simply being near him could cause fire to erupt out of control, a tragedy that came to a head when he lost control as a child, and burned down his home – his parents still inside of it.”
Edwin winced on screen, and Pendragon patted his shoulder sympathetically, before gesturing to someone behind the camera and stepping out of the way as a projector came to light, playing some sort of video clip.
Gwen clutched at Merlin’s hand as the screen on the, well, newscaster’s screen came to life, and it appeared to be an office or lab of some kind, with a very young-looking Edwin, maybe ten years ago, sitting on an examination table, a doctor in front of him and holding up cards with math and word problems on them, the little boy clearly concentrating on them as he struggled to answer them in his head.
Five meters behind the boy, another lab person walked in quietly, holding a candle with a small, small flame.
“As you can see,” Pendragon said from next to the projection screen, just at the edge of the telly screen. “The boy is heavily concentrating on something else, and does not even know the fire is there.”
The lab person carefully stepped forward, a little counter at the bottom of the screen going down, showing distance as the lab person approached the boy silently from behind. At three and a half meters, the candle flame jumped, growing bigger and bigger until it was almost like a small fire.
By two meters, the assistant had to hold the candle away from her as the flame grew to the size of her heard. Just one step forward and it almost doubled in size, until it was almost towering over her.
Then the boy on the screen saw shadows, turned around, and promptly screamed as he scrambled off the table and away from the flame, cowering in the opposite corner of the room, the flame lowering as he was well over several meters away again – but still remaining unnaturally large, now that he was looking at it.
The clip ended, and some doctor person was holding onto a shaking, older Edwin’s arm as Pendragon stood back up at the podium.
“That was the young man you see before you almost eight years ago,” Uther said. “Fire responded drastically to him even as he tried not to do anything at all.”
Someone brought a candle forward live in the lobby, and several people stepped back as the person holding it approached Edwin with it. The boy was staring at it, but he did not move, and even when the person stood right in front of him with the candle, nothing happened. Edwin even raised a hand and slowly ran his fingers right through the flame, with no response.
Several people in the room gasped as Edwin held up his hand, then looked at the line of soot across it and grimaced, letting out a very teenage, “Ew.”
As the room filled with bubbly laughter, more out of relief and joy from the demonstration than Edwin’s teenage fuss, Pendragon said, “The boys stands here before you, cured of his affliction. This cure we now offer to the world.”
The press room exploded with questions, but Merlin couldn’t hear them anymore.
He lowered his gaze and looked around the shop. Gwen, Lance, Sophia, and the four other mutants in the room all looked stunned.
Morgana looked furious and ill.
Merlin just felt destroyed, before slowly looking down at his hands.
Cured. He could – it could be gone. He could get rid of-
“Don’t even think about it, Merlin,” Morgana said harshly, finishing paying a dazed Sophia before snatching the bags and stomping out, the other three behind her. “We’re all just fine the way we are. We don’t need a cure. We’re not sick.”
Merlin shut his eyes.
“Then why do I feel like it?” Merlin asked quietly. But no one else heard him over their own shock and rage. A cure, a cure for being a mutant.
Merlin could be free.
Next Chapter >>
Master Post
~*~
A/N: Again, crap day, so please leave reviews so when I get home and die I have something to cheer me up and send me to special hell with a smile on my face.
Feel free to check out a nice, porny preview snippet of my not-as-up-and-coming-as-I-would-like fic...with the working title of "slut training Gwaine fic" (no, really, that's all the plot there is- it's a part of my Master and Servant series).
Next Chapter, 2.3 - Fight: It's like pulling petals off a daisy: "I'll get the cure. I won't. I need the cure. I don't." Except daisies eventually give you answers. People don't. Especially not annoying sisters, well-meaning friends, and sympathetic headmasters. But most of all, the last one to get an answer from is the one whose answer you need the most: yourself.
