How's Alex?
“How’s Alex?”
This day had all the signs of a good day. Summer had finally reunited with her beloved cousin and now she had a safe place to live. She even had her own room. Ok, they did fight a couple of bad guys early in the morning, but if you consider everything else, pretty good huh? It’s still a better day than all those she had back in the white room. And what’s a good day without some good-defeating-evil battle?
For a blissful moment all was good. But, they should know by now that those moments rarely lasted.
“How’s Alex?”
It’s fascinating to think how everything can change in a matter of seconds. Peter knew that well: Master of time, he could make a havoc in a single second and fix it in another. He admired the seconds and the sinister power they held within. He respected time, because he knew that seconds could truly change everything.
It all could go from a good day to a categorically disastrous one way too quickly. And as murphy law would have it, it did.
In a second everything was fine, everyone was having a good time, Summer was safe and happy, in the other…
“How’s Alex?”
Words. Words also held the power change everything. Three, two, even just a single word carried in itself the power to change reality. For better or for worse. Words could start and end wars. Start and end relationships. Words like ‘love’ and ‘hate’, despite being so little, had such a force to them. ‘Good news’, ‘bad news’. ‘life’, ‘death’.
“How’s Alex?”
Alex is dead. Alex is gone. And Summer didn’t know.
“How’s Alex?”
How could she know? Summer hadn’t spoken to her family in years. She had been locked up all these years, missing out on Alex last moments.
“How’s Alex?”
It had been sixteen years since Summer last saw Alex. Since she last got to hold him close. Since she last laughed at one of his stupid jokes. Since they last got together to make fun of little Scotty. She would never be able to do those things again. And she didn’t even know that yet.
“How’s Alex?”
Growing up, Summer looked up to Alex. Even before he got his powers, way before he was an X-men, she always saw him as a hero. He always had that something to him. That natural inclination to good. To be good. To do good. He was always the hero when they played pretend. Don’t matter what imaginary endeavours they went through, he always saved her in the end.
“How’s Alex?”
Those little words changed everything. Those god-dammed little words made the entire room stiffen and go quiet. They killed the joyous mood that previously reigned.
“How’s Alex?”
Blissfully unaware, Summer posed the question with a smile. She had spent a lot of her free time in the white room wondering what Alex might have been up to and now she was eager to learn if any of her thousands of theories and imaginary scenarios were true.
“How’s Alex?”
Eyes darted to avoid her like the plague. It was on the nature of people that had been broken-hearted before to avoid heartbreak, their own and of others. So no one wanted to be the bearer of such news, and you really couldn’t blame them for that. Hell, Summer had already been through so much. No one wanted to be the one to tell her what happened or worst, how it happened. No one wanted to be responsible for whipping the smile off her face.
So, Summer chose someone for the job.
“Scott, how’s Alex?”
It felt right for Scott to tell her. He was Alex’s brother, Summer’s cousin. He was the one who knew those two the longest; who knew how close they were.
Scott let out a long, sad and shaky breath, as if that would make it any easier, as if it would make the words come out without hurting the both of them. He wished he could postpone that conversation; let Summer be a happy carefree woman for a few more minutes. But he guessed he was as ready as he’d ever be, and it was as good a time as any.
And so Scott told her. Told her what happened. Told her how.
Peter couldn’t find strength in him to be beside her as Summer fell to the ground crying. He just watched from far away as her world visibly shattered. Peter never really watched sad movies – he was more of an action guy himself – but he imagined it was nothing like watching her now. That wasn’t staged, that was as real as it gets.
Deep down, Peter still felt like it was his fault and he was afraid that Summer would think so too. If he had arrived just a second earlier. He could have saved everyone. She wouldn’t be in the floor crying. And everything would be different. It was just one more sick reminder that seconds can change everything.
They took her to see the monument they made for Alex. He looked really good in that statue. The flowers looked really good around it. It was a nice place for his statue to be, next to some beautiful threes. It was a nice place to cry.
On top of it all, it was somehow quiet and peaceful. Alex would like it there. He would like to see her there.
Summer talked to him. She told him that she was there, that she was safe now. She told him how she missed him, how she admired him. She told him no one else got hurt in the explosion that day, because that’s what she was told and she knows Alex would like to know that. She talked as if he could listen, like he could answer, not because she believed he could, but because it brought her peace. All those years she had imagined what she would tell him once they were reunited. Now she really needed to get it all out.
At some point during their conversation, the sobbing stopped. The sadness settled in her heart and engulfed her like a suffocating hug. It felt like that sadness was making itself acquainted and it was there to stay. Summer knew it was likely that it would never stop hurting. The pain would never go away; she would have to learn how to live with it.
Summer would never forget Alex, she just couldn’t. He lived in her, made her who she was. She would never forget his voice as he read her princess stories. She would never forget those endless summer evenings were they would play in their grandmother’s garden. She would never forget how they both held into each other crying because his family would move to a house four blocks away from hers.
Summer told him all those stories, as if Alex hadn’t been there. As if he was there with her now.
What Summer wouldn’t do to bring him back. To have him annoy her out of her mind just once more. To have just one more day with him, just one more hour. To hold him just once more.
It felt like the entire world was suddenly darker. If Alex was gone, then there was no more good in the world. If Alex was gone, then all the hope for the world was as good as lost. How the sun dared to still shine?
Summer talked to him for so long that when she turned around everyone else had already left. The only one that was still there was Peter, far away enough so that he wouldn’t hear their private conversation. He was leaning on a three, patiently waiting for her to be done. Partly because he didn’t want her to be alone in a moment like that. And partly because he had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to find her way through that huge manor.
Summer slowly walked to him, as if every step hurt. Peter straightened himself to receive her. The situation seemed to require a level of seriousness that he didn’t have, but he was willing to try.
“Looks like everyone else left, huh?” The fact that she was trying to make small talk in times like this hinted that she was stronger than she looked.
“It felt like you needed some time alone” Peter answered. “How are you?”
She just looked at him and in the puffiness of her red eyes and the overall sad and exhausted expression of her face he found his answer.
“I’m too scared to ask about my grandma now.”