it’s hard to explain . // it’s hard to explain ! uh huh ! that makes two of them ! or maybe … maybe it’s only one of them . maybe there’s a trillion other davids out in this world he’s gonna discover , all with a trillion different accents ( and then some that aren’t even possible , so there’s a thought ! ) , all trying to reach him somehow . do one bad thing ( you’re a fuck up anyways ! ) and you got everyone on your tail , telling you : you’re crazy , you’re sick , you don’t belong anywhere but behind some white walls . let him look like a lab rat and see how he likes to be treated . no no , nono . where’re the manners daddy’s taught you ?
hello , star number eight thousand , seven hundred . ❝ okay , well … i can’t say i don’t believe that one . ❞ once upon a time , there were two guys named david haller who fucked up and found themselves face to face with each other . as far as he knows , he’s just been trying to sleep . can unconscious minds fuck up ? ( yeah , you’re always gonna … ) long as scottish david hasn’t tried anything like stabbing a pen through some guy’s cheek , or hand , or heart . hey , other me , are you , like , a murderer ?! no .
quick shake of the head . snap out of it . go away ! ❝ well , you’re here now . in , um , in america . i think . ❞ he looks around for a second like he’s not sure either . nah - he’s still right where he went to sleep . just with someone else . himself . uh . not something that happens every day . or , like … at all . ❝ yeah , it’s america . um … ❞ god , you sound stuffed up like some sick person . a sniff ; he lifts his hand to the side of his head and runs his fingers through his hair . ❝ so , you … ? are you , like … they told me i’m a … a mutant , so - are you ? like , are you a mutant too ? ❞
There were so many questions rattling around inside David’s already chaotic mind, questions about the young man staring back at him with the very same features, questions about the strange world he now stood in — - questions about family. So far from home, yet his first real thought was that of his father. Was he — - alive?
Poor little David, so desperate for daddy’s attention. No, he couldn’t think about his father, he had to keep away no matter how much he wanted to just see him. Heck, how could he forget what he’d done the last time he was stood on unfamiliar soils in the presnce of Charles Xavier?
You killed me, boy — - you killed your own father.
“Aye — - aye, I’m a mutant.” He replied, uniquely coloured eyes blinking a few extra times as he struggled through the constant internal turmoil, trying to silence the Fiend that resiliently tormented his every thought with a twisted likeness of Professor X. His mind like a battle ground, a war that would never end, not even when he closed his eyes and desperately wished for peace. But what did that mean for this other David…?
“You’re like me — - aren’t you?” How much he wanted the other man to say no, to tell him that he had everything worked out, that his life was picture perfect. But why did he get the feeling that wasn’t the case at all? How alike were they? Were they both colossal fuck ups in the eyes of so many? Including themselves. “You’re, uh…” Don’t say insane, don’t say insane. He lifted up his hand to tap the side of his head. “— - it’s not quiet up there, is it?”
