Chapter Text
As public schools in the Bay Area went, this was one of the nicer ones. The classroom had windows, at least, to relieve the institutional gray of the walls and the harsh fluorescent lighting that drained the life and color out of Dani. It was quiet between her classes, and as a substitute, even a regular substitute, she didn't have papers to grade, so she'd gotten up to open one, to breathe real instead of recirculated air, even thought it was cold and damp and always smelled a little bit like earthworms on pavement.
Forehead pressed to the pane of glass, Dani stared out at...not here, but a snow-covered lawn a country and an eternity from here, seeing a red wolf frolicking with a blonde boy she loved, a streak of solar shadow chasing a blonde girl who wouldn't know he existed for years yet, and two dark-haired girls in red hats and mittens giggling at each other while they made snowballs to ambush the others.
...at moonlight on red hair and red glasses, a stolen kiss and bright smiles, hands held as they walked between the pines. Blonde hair and green, ice and fire, blue fur and the occasional flutter of wings...
...salmon-belly wings and gold skin, a boy who couldn't be touched and the hooded girl he reminded them all of, an impulsive windstorm of a girl and the goddess who shared her powers, the cuckoos and their--
"Ms. Moonstar?"
She blinked, startled both by the voice and the dampness on her lashes. Quickly wiped her thumb and forefinger over both eyes, thankful she didn't wear makeup, and answered, "Yeah?" as she straightened and turned away from the window.
"May I ask you a question?" asked Caroline Prasongsanti, twelve years old and all of four-feet-two inches, most of it eyes. Between that and the polite way she carried her books in front of her, flat against her stomach with both hands, and the knee socks, she looked more like an anime character than most anime characters, except that she didn't talk or act like a babydoll.
"Yeah, definitely." Dani grinned at her, dispelling her own gloom.
Of all of the students she'd taught since coming to San Francisco, Caroline was one of her favorites. She reminded her most of the kids she'd had to leave behind. Bright, eager, caught in that trap between wanting approval and wanting to be herself, plus she'd sent chocolate chip cookies to Dani's house after her first assignment at the school when their regular teacher, Mrs. Gallese, had been out with gallstones.
Dani parked her ass at the edge of Gallese's desk, one arm wrapped across her middle, and the other hand gripping the elbow. "What's up?"
Caroline smiled, shrugged, and glanced down at the floor. "This is going to sound dumb..."
"Probably," Dani agreed, teasing. "But what can you do? You always sound dumb when you don't know something and the only way you fix it, sometimes, is to ask."
That made the girl laugh but she gave Dani an Oh Em Gee, you are such a dork look, which Dani found pretty gratifying. And familiar. She hadn't seen it on Sofia in awhile, but she'd been the queen of that one.
"Whatever. Anyway, I just... what is history?" Caroline shrugged, awkward and struggling to express herself, and Dani waited patiently, face as neutral as she could make it. "I mean, right, I know it's like, the study of the past and everything, but...it doesn't make a lot of sense. Why is it all about the Romans and the Greeks and the Christians and the monks and the Spanish? And why is it all about these big wars and generals and leaders instead of about...other stuff? Does that even make any sense?"
"Oh yeah." Did it ever. Dani crossed her legs in front of her and tried to think how to answer that wasn't going to get her in trouble with the school or Caroline in trouble with her pretty traditional parents. "The smart thing to do would be to tell you that history's written by the victors. It's true, but it's kind of a lie. Because even if it answers why it's about a lot of white guys, it doesn't explain why it's mostly about wars and big cultural stuff.
"I guess..." Dani shoved her braids back over her shoulders, squared them, and told the truth. Let them fire her for it. She was only a substitute anyway. "History is a story about the past. And everyone who tells it, tells it a little differently. How they tell it depends on what they want you to know about the world. School wants you to know about how the world is now, how it got that way, because they think it'll help you get a job and be a productive citizen. My grandfather, Black Eagle, when he told history, it was about how Crow turned black, or how the buffalo saved Cheyenne, or how Eagle gave us power over our enemies, and my teacher, Charles--" She swallowed softly over his name, but kept on, "Taught us about Spain in the 16th century, and about India during the height of the spice trade, and about Mir and the International Space Station..."
She laughed at herself and shook her head. "You were probably looking for something a little more quotable, huh?"
Caroline did look a little glazed, but just a little, and she shook her head, too. "No. Well, yeah. Sort of. But that's good. I mean, I get it now. It's not like math or science where two plus two is four and apples and cannonballs fall at the same speed."
Dani resisted the urge to quip the Cannonball rarely fell, he usually slammed into things, and waited for her to get to the end.
"It's made up. Like a collage, or, um, a Pinterest board."
"Bingo." A Pinterest board. The Professor would've liked that. "So, now can I ask you something?"
Caroline nodded and stood perfectly straight, books still in front of her like she'd been the whole time.
"Why'd you ask that? It's not the sort of thing kids usually think about during lunch break."
"Um..."
This was one of those times Dani really missed her powers. If she tasted the girl's mind, if she made her dreams from smoke, what would she see? "It's okay. You can tell me anything. I promise, you're not going to get in trouble."
Looking around nervously, Caroline nodded again and walked all the way up to the desk. Her voice when she answered Dani was quiet and scared. "Because...well. School history doesn't have any, um, mutants in it. And I. ...my cousin just turned into one."
It was all Dani could do not to cry.
The feeling stayed with her all day, the blurring ache behind her eyes and in her jaw, the nauseating twist of hope and resentment, the burning need to do something when there was nothing to do. She'd given Caroline the house phone number before the bell rang, told her she could call, any time, and Dani had friends who could help. Caroline insisted she would tell her cousin and when Dani tried to catch up with her at the end of classes, she'd bolted like a scared rabbit, huge eyes pleading no, please, stay away.
It would have been easy for someone with Dani's training to catch Caroline, to take her somewhere quiet to talk, maybe even to reassure her that it would be all right. But what would she tell her? I'm a mutant too? Even if she still had the X-gene and still thought of herself as a mutant, she wasn't, not really. I used to be a mutant, and sometimes I'm a Valkyrie? Because hey, little girl, welcome to the rest of your life. You' ll get used to being fate's bitch wasn't terrifying at all. So Dani watched her go, stomach full of acid and lead, cold fire and heavy metal, and the taste of both were in her throat.
What is history? Caroline's voice sounded over in over in her head on the way home on the BART. Dani squeezed her eyes shut and fought off the sickening waves of memory from the day it all stopped. The first night she hadn't dreamed. The dawning realization that she was one of the poor things who'd been stripped of their powers, that she might never know another mind again. It all came back, crashing against the inside of her skull, how terrifyingly alone she'd felt. (Still felt.) Caroline's history, now, was the story of what happened. The story of who Dani used to be.
But who was she now?
The package on her bed, accounted for by a courier's receipt with a note from Doug, with its bold A on the card, offered an easy answer, more tempting today than it had been when Alex called. Not a mutant. Not a Valkyrie. Not just a human. Not really. But she could be an Avenger.
Say yes the card read when she gave in and opened it, and the handwriting couldn't be anyone but Havok's. Straight, true lines. Confident, but not without a sense of humor in the words.
Nausea fading and leaving the endless gray in its place, Dani sighed and pulled out her cell. Are you on one knee? she texted Alex.
The response was unexpectedly immediate, before she could unwrap the box or even put her phone away. Would it help?
Maybe, she sent back, a tight, wry smile on her lips. And then a few seconds later: But only if you send pix. Then I can fwd to Lorna and she'll kick your ass.
See? He came back so fast, Dani wondered if he was bored out of his mind on monitor duty. You fit right in. Natasha already threatened my posterior twice today.
Dani unwrapped the plain brown paper, slid her finger along the edge of the box to the find the tape, then stopped to answer him when the top lifted off to reveal a new skin-fit, black and sleek. Reed Richards' make. I said I'd think about it.
She could almost see the nod, the 'concerned Summers' face that went with the response: Don't think too long.
From Emma, it might have been a threat, but from Alex, it was more of a plea. Didn't matter. It sat heavy on her already queasy mind and gut anyway. She didn't answer, and either he knew her well enough or his narc - Sam - knew her well enough that he didn't text again but left her to work it through alone, if not in peace.
Dani got as far as lifting one long black sleeve before the blur of tears and memory assailed her. She remembered, like it was yesterday, another bedroom, another uniform, another offer... she'd said yes, that day. Yes, but yes her way. She'd been so proud when she put on her mother's belt and her deerskin boots and gone down to face the Professor. Even prouder when he smiled when she'd said they weren't just (replacement) X-men, they were individuals, and he could either let her wear her uniform her way or he could keep it.
It'd been so simple, looking at her dresser that day, to know she couldn't wear gold and navy without her turquoise. Simple to know she couldn't wear it at all when Ororo offered, years later. Simple and burning pure, the decision to hunt Legion to prove she deserved it when Sam didn't.
We look like grown-ups, Sam and Bobby had said about the new X-uniforms, the one that Dani had fought so hard to be allowed to wear. And if they'd looked like grown-ups in the blue and gold, looked like X-men, what would she look like in this new Avengers' black with the gold X as an homage and afterthought on a shoulder-patch? What would her new history be?
An hour and a half later when the front door opened and Nate called out, "Honeys, I'm home," in his annoyingly peaceful Thursday teaching-meditation-at-the-Y voice, Dani was still trying to work that question, who she'd be in that black uniform, out. Instead of answering Nate and risk inviting his shaman-to-the-(decimated)-mutant-masses input on her personal journey, Dani pushed the skin-slick off her lap and went to take a shower.
The drumming of water on tile recalled nights in the mountains and rain on the roof, nights spent alone far away from everything, before she'd seen Sofia on TV and known she had to come back. Nights before that, years before that, with Black Eagle, when he'd taught her Cheyenne ways and why she made the people afraid. She hadn't wanted to learn, but where you start from, little spirit, is who you are, Black Eagle had taught her.
Where you start from, who she was, had been her mother's belt, her boots, her braids. They'd been Dani Moonstar, even when she wore Xes and went by Mirage, or Psyche, or even Spellbinder the one time.
The steam rose, the water fell, her fingers slipped through the hot, wet curtain of her hair, combing out the snarls like she could untangle the nest of snakes in her belly. Where you start from, the Professor taught her when she chose the path of life over the path of vengeance for Black Eagle's death wasn't just where you came from, the first beginning, but every beginning.
Dani's beginnings, for so long she could almost not remember any other way, her first principle, had been the Professor's dream. But he was gone, killed by his best student, and they'd taken Dani's start with them, maybe. Alex said no, that she'd be fighting for that dream still, but she couldn't help feeling like changing her uniform was changing her story, her history, her start.
Then again, watching her eyes appear in the fogged mirror while she plaited her hair, remembering Caroline's dark eyes wide with fear and liquid with shame, maybe a fresh start was what she needed. What they all needed. Alex said they needed her, because she never gave up. Maybe that was her start. Her story.
She peered out of her bathroom at her bed for the skin-fit -- still there -- and, with a long sigh that relieved nothing, toweled off, pulled on some underwear and a bra, gritted her teeth and went to try it on. She had to. That was who she was. Dani Moonstar, no matter what, she tries.
A single knock and a bright, "Incoming!" was all the warning she had before Amara sailed through her door, her eyes glowing bright and eager. "You'll never guess what--are you doing, Dani?" Pleasure turned to consternation and confusion, almost comical in her stunning, perfectly made up face.
"Playing out the start of Bobby's longest-running fantasy it looks like. Shut the damned door, Amara!" she snapped, and managed not to fall over while hauling the slick material up over her hips.
Amara dutifully closed the door but (of course) she didn't show herself out. She never took her eyes off the uniform, while she moved toward Dani warily, watching it like a snake. "Is that what I think it is?"
Great. Exactly what she hadn't wanted. Someone else's opinion before she formed her own. "That depends. If you think it's an engagement present from Havok, then yeah. It is."
Head tilted, Amara blinked at her. "But Lorn--oh."
"Yeah. Oh." Half-dressed up and nowhere to go. Sigh. Dani slipped her arms into the suit and shrugged it on.
"Sam said he was going to offer," Amara said finally and sat neatly on the edge of Dani's bed. "You're going to accept?"
Huh. She sounded surprised. Sometimes Dani forgot Amara'd known her as long as anyone. Seen her through pretty much everything. "Maybe. I don't know if black is my color."
Amara shrugged and leaned back on her hands. "It looks good on you. But everything looks good on you. You even manage to make that Valkyrie headdress look good and that thing is hideous," she said, and her tone said she wasn't talking about fashion.
"Thanks, I think." Dani gave her a little, genuinely grateful smile then gestured, so, get on with it with her hand and said, "I'll never guess what--" head cocking to encourage her on.
"Oh, right." Amara sat forward again, eyes glowing. "Kitty called while you were in the shower. You'll never guess!"
"She and Ray are taking advantage of Minnesota's gay marriage law and we're all invited to attend," Dani suggested dryly.
"You should sleep with Nate," Amara said without missing a beat. "Or Sam. Someone."
"What? What does that have to do with--"
"You have marriage on the brain." Amara smirked and continued, "There's a new mutant. Here. In San Francisco!"
Dani's spluttering stopped abruptly. The break in the gloom from Amara's chatter closed up and her stomach twisted. Caroline. "I know," was all she said before she turned away to check out the fit of the uniform in her closet mirror.
"Her name--"
"Is Caroline Prasongsanti. She's twelve and a half years old, Thai, and she just manifested a couple of nights ago," Dani finished for her. "I know."
Over her shoulder in the mirror, Amara frowned. Her legs crossed, one over the other, a sure sign she'd started to get upset. "Kitty didn't say she'd talked to you."
"That's because she didn't." Sighing, Dani turned to face Amara and explain. "I know her. From school."
The frowned deepened and Amara's eyes got a dangerously fiery look to them. "When were you planning to tell the rest of us?"
"I wasn't." Dani shoved her braids back over her shoulders. "Not yet." A long breath and then Dani started over, "Listen. Amara. She's not ready. She told me her cousin manifested. When I tried to call her on it, she bolted."
"Because you tried to do it alone. Just like always. Same old Dani," Amara snapped and shoved herself upright.
"Wait. 'Mara, wait. It's not like--"
"Yes, it is, Dani." One hand came up to stop Dani from talking before she was finished. "You were going to try on that uniform by yourself and make a decision by yourself. And you were going to decide what was best for this girl by yourself, without talking to any of us."
"Where is this coming from?"
"Does it matter?" Amara shook her head, hard. "Never mind. Don't answer that," she said, grabbed the door, and stalked out, slamming it behind her, leaving Dani as confused as Amara had looked before.
Confused, stunned, a little betrayed. Was that how Amara saw her? How they all did? She was going to tell them. After Caroline (not her cousin) had had a little time to adjust and wouldn't panic if a woman who turned into lava, a techno-organic sentient computer-being, a Valkyrie and a telekinetic who refused to button his shirt came walking up to her carrying their congratulations, you're a mutant, here's what you can look forward to brochures and wearing their best we come in peace smiles.
Dani sank down to the bed, gaze fixed on the door, hands running up her own arms to ward the chill. Jeez. Maybe she really did need that fresh start.
It had probably only been ten minutes, even though it felt like hours, that Dani sat on her bed hugging her knees and staring at the door, the afterimage of Amara burned into her brain. However long it had been, the blurring ache and twisting nausea had come back with a vengeance, and the knock at her door practically shattered her skull.
She ignored it and hoped whoever it was would go away. They didn't, just knocked again, more insistently.
"What do you want?" she demanded, but it came out mewling kitten pitiful instead of the snarl she meant it to be.
"To come in, obviously," Nate answered and didn't wait for permission to open the door this time. His gaze raked over her, taking in everything from her bare toes curled at the edge of the bed, to her damp, shiny braids and her chin on her knees, and obviously the skin-fit.
"You're in," she said dully. The last thing she wanted was a Nate-lesson on top of a lecture from one of her oldest friends. "Now go out and shut the door."
"Dani--" Nate did shut the door, but just like Amara, he didn't go out. Just like Amara, he came and sat on her bed. Since when did her bed have a welcome mat?
"Don't you start," she warned him without shoving him or punching him. She'd have to uncurl from around her knees and she wasn't sure she wouldn't throw up.
"Start what?" Nate asked and sounded honestly perplexed.
"Where Amara left off, telling me how stupid and selfish I am for not talking to everyone about Caro--"
"Pfft." Nate nudged her with his shoulder. "She's just upset because you and Bobby got the call up but she didn't."
...oh.
Once upon a time, Dani would've know that, tasted it on Amara's thoughts.
"It's obvious you're just giving the girl some space, and I'm sure you gave her our number in case anything happened." Head ducking, he peered up at her and smiled, all sweet and crooked and Summers. "Right?"
"Yeah." Sometimes he was pretty okay.
"Of course, it's possible you're projecting your feelings of uncertainty about where you stand and what you should do now onto her, and you're probably feeling a little--"
Dani glared at him, the shut up before I punch you written all over her face.
He cleared his throat, ignored the flash of sharp teeth behind her snarl to rub her calf. "But that's not what I came in here for."
Gaze narrowed, lips pressed tight together, she lifted an eyebrow and tried not to think about how his fingers on her calf quieted the snakes in her belly.
"It's not. Honest."
"Well?"
"I just wanted to check out the skin-fit. Amara said it looked good on you." His fingers curled around her ankle and tugged playfully. "She's right. You look hot."
In a heartbeat, Dani uncoiled with a burst of energy and snared the pillow from behind her. The next breath, she'd smacked it across Nate's face. "Get out." And the next used it to shove him off her bed. "I said, Get. Out!"
But maybe he could come back for awhile, when she'd changed.