Chapter 2
The worst part was, she couldn’t blame him.
She couldn’t bame herself, either. Or perhaps she could, she didn’t know. The man didn’t give her his name, nor where he came from, nor how he got her information. He didn’t trust her, and that was a given. Gentility with claws. It was nothing out of the ordinary, she was only just tired of it. She relaxed, but only slightly, when he went into his expected pitch of how her talents, instead of being used to uphold institutions that ultimately fueled her—and his—opression, she should be using them to help a far grander cause.
Deviation from the norm will always be punished unless it is exploitable. Humanity will never accept us. A hurtful truth, but also utter bullshit. Ignorance was at times just as hurtful as clear cruelty. And when it wasn’t ignorance, it was confusion. Ignorance wasn’t understood, but confusion was a thing that Rose grew up with. Confusion, frustration, and pain from all sides. It wasn’t punishment, but it sure felt like it, with no pinpointed source and no real end.
The whole of the human condition, and thus human behavior, did not exist to be put into a simple, nihilistic quote.
But knowing confustion, and not the outright hatred that led to people getting shot on TV, had been only her own situation. So she held back. If she had the same venom she had when she was younger, she would have bit back, chewed him to pieces. She would have showed him the ways she was turning her position at the university into a voice for change. She would have told him about the advocacy board. She would have told him of the education work she had been doing, the community and resource networks she had built within the city and beyond it. She would have showed him her cause. And if she was just as foolish, she would’ve told him about her writing and the children she cared for. But a life lived well-aware had made her wise in many ways. And a life lived well-aware was so infintismally lucky. Her heart ached for the man in front of her.
Did his family call him a monster?
Did he struggle to hide his talents too?
Could he? Did he even have a choice?
How much has his pain differed from mine? What can I do to fix this situation?
When he was finished, she got out of her chair and made him a cup of tea, then offered him cookies, scrounged in the minifridge from an office party the day before. The calming smell of jasmine filled the room and she hoped it would ease the tension.
She took a deep sip from her mug. It was best to get on with this. “I am very happy you came today to voice your concerns, but my stance remains. I have no desire to join The Brotherhood.”
The man’s face drew up blank, but she knew it was a careful one.
She hummed. “You’d have to change its name, of course. It wouldn’t be Brotherhood. It would have to be Siblinghood. Or the Fellowship. Or maybe—” she put her two fingers together in the shape of an M — “The Squad?”
The man blinked. “You think we are joking.”
Rose gave a smile, let out her fatigue. “I’m sorry. I think you are being completely serious. And I am being completely honest in my opinion on this matter. I have a life, sir. One that I have committed my life to. One that I have made for myself since a very old friend of your Boss’s called me useless. I am not going to throw it away for the sake of using violence to get my point across. That isn’t me, and it isn’t what I am about.”
“So you care for order more than for what is your right.”
“I applaud you for trying to assassinate the president last month. A few of us took shots of very expensive tequila in the break room. But I do not like the new National Security regulations that rolled out that allows the government to tap our phones at will. Anarchy leads to tyranny, and so on.”
“So you would rather hinder us and spend the rest of your life on your knees?”
“Over what?” She raised an eyebrow. “I have done nothing. ”
“Over nothing,” The man snarled, “Because you would rather kiss the ass of professors--deans who would care nothing of you if you embraced who you truly are.”
That was enough. How dare he. “You have no idea who I am.”
He shrugged. “I don’t need to. All those humans here need to hear is that there’s a mutant in the office and you’re out of a job. You’re out of a life. And who will support you then? Hm?”
Rose didn’t hear the rest of what he had to say. His voice came in bouts and burbles, fanning something dark and painful deep in her stomach.
“--and you won’t, because you care too much about humans who would kick you under the bus to get ahead--”
That same painful something became hot and tight found her way in her throat, and Rose swallowed it down. Her eyes were suddenly itchy. But her mind wandered to cold and ice. It was like a business interview, or a day of picking up the pieces of less competent associates and colleagues. One emotion and you were dead.
But it still felt lackluster to say it. “My decision remains unchanged, sir.”
“Face it, Doctor Buchanan,” He smirked as she watched her pull herself together. “You are playing a losing game. The lives our kind are further at stake. The rest of us do not have the luxury nor the privelige of being decent, like you.”
Everything started to shake in her mind. She breathed. She smelled the tea in her office. She smelled chill air of a research lab high in the mountains. She smelled the ocean next to a rainforest. She smelled the stale, cold breath of a hospital room.
“You must pick a side, Rose.” The man implored, “Eventually, we all do.”
“Your cause is understandable. Mine is my own. It is simply about being kind,” Rose’s smile was back. It was one of apology, the one she used when explaining important things to a class. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“Nothing,” The man got up, but finished his tea. “I have spent enough time here. I thought the authorities would be here by now.” He pursed his lips.
“Nobody called them.” Rose hoped he didn’t hear the plea in her voice. We are not on opposite sides, I am not your enemy. Her tone stayed numb.
Thinly-veiled shock flickered across his features. “Then you will forgive me for the intrusion, and for what I must do. Have a good day, Doctor.” He calmly walked towards the office entrance and phased through the floor, like he was made of water.
Rose gave a chuckle at that. It was cetainly one of the less-dramatic exits she had seen over the years. And she chuckled again, her whole body beginning to shake along with her laughter. She tried to stand up and he knees would not get off the carpet. When she got the feeling in her legs back, she finally made that pot of coffee. It had been a long day, and that required a very specific order.
She took a deep breath again. She tried to find a word for what she felt: dread, gutted, numb. A million adjectives to describe a very familiar feeling, one she felt all too well. All those humans here need to hear is that there’s a mutant in this office and you’re out of a job. You’re out of a life. And who will support you then? Hm? Rose had let him steam out the rest of his appeal without a word against him, even though she knew the answer. She walked to her window, which was a flat pane of glass that extended from floor to ceiling. It was her favorite feature of the office because she could see the buildings of campus all around her. It was place where she didn’t necessarily fit in, but knew in her bones she belonged. Her forehead touched the glass as she slumped, exhausted. Because the man was correct. Did she really belong here? When she closed her eyes, hot tears pushed down her cheeks. When she opened them, her reflection was the same as it always was, save for the glassy bead-black of her eyes. Positively demonic, but not at all what it looked like, because her eyes were usually a drab mix of green and brown anyways.
It was getting hazier than it had been in the morning. The clouds seemed to be pouring into the streets, as she watched the passers-by rush to their classes. She breathed out. It was a part of her life, yes. It would always be. But part of it keeping it close was of the freedom it gave her to define her life on her own terms. There was no shame to be found in that decision. Yet her heart was hammering against her chest, and it was so, so very hard to breathe.
“…Fuck.” The word whistled shaply through her teeth. For the first time in a long time, she felt truly, painfully alone. The silence—her silence--ate her alive.
She thanked God when the phone rang. “Hey, love. Trouble at work?” Preston’s voice, while mostly static, was warm. Nobody was in the room, but she smiled. A real one. One filled with hope.
“You would not believe the day I just had—" the floor shook. “What?”
The line fritzed. “Rose, is there anything going on—”
But Rose couldn’t find the words to say it. As she lifted her eyes towards the window, she watched the beautiful vista of her campus bloom into flames.