It started with pens shaking on the tables when she walked past. As the years drew on, the teacher’s desk started moving on its legs when Lorna became irritated during class. The last time she let loose, she brought down a building, and the worst thing about it wasn’t even the officers that were trapped inside. The worst part was how easy it was. Since then, Lorna didn’t really need to try to manipulate any metal she wanted to – any metal she needed to in order to survive.
This was the first time she had attempted something on this scale, though – and the first time she felt any kind of resistance. The metal was still calling to her, singing, but it wasn’t pulling itself towards her. It wasn’t responding intuitively to her movements, even as she focused more intently, closing her eyes so she could just feel in the way that she found always helped in the past.
The tug of war let up immediately, suddenly, and Lorna opened her eyes just in time to see a trailer whip across the bridge, sending officers diving for cover, piling their cars up into a barricade. One swift movement, perfectly executed, and Lorna flashed back to the thousands of videos and news feeds she had poured over, taking in every little detail.
She knew before she saw him rising above them. She knew because it made sense, but also because she felt it, deep down in her gut. He landed in front of her, and Lorna dropped her hands to the side, the bridge groaning with the sudden release.
He looked just like she expected. He exuded a level of power that Lorna could only dream of, but there was also a part of her magnetism that called to his – they were poles apart, two sides of the coin. He said her name, and Lorna’s jaw clenched, taking a sudden sharp breath.
Dad? “If I knew it was you,” she said instead, crossing her arms against her chest, “I wouldn’t have got involved.” She looked at him for a long moment, then pulled her gaze away to glance at the commotion on the bridge. “Let me guess – they deserved it?”
Her expression tightened the moment he spoke, and he grimaced faintly. He couldn’t say he didn’t deserve her bitterness, as much as he’d hoped for something else. Twenty-two years, she’d been alive, and this was the first time in her memory that she had met him, had heard his voice in person.
“They always deserve it,” he said, drily. He took a half step forward, drawn as if by the very magnetism he controls. “That was impressive, wresting control like that. It took me a long time to master my powers enough to control something that size, let alone something already other another’s influence.”
And it was impressive. She was twenty-two years old, and a force to be reckoned with in her own right. He’d seen her learn to control her powers slowly over the years, through the trial and error all mutants had to go through. He’d considered whether it would be kinder to take her, to be her father in the way that he’d tried to be to Anya. To show her how to use her powers, himself.
But he’d learned a lot of things, since Vinnitsa. Amongst those: that the sort of parenting that he so wanted was not something he would be capable of providing. He had a mission, and he had a temperament that was not conducive to raising children, anymore.
Better to ensure her safety from a distance. Let her come into her own, with some guidance from afar, when she needed it.
“I know you’re angry with me. And I understand why. But I want you to know that I am proud of you. Even if that means less than I wish it did.”
