Ororo brought the cup to her lips, but paused at Betsy’s suggestion. She smirked over the rim of the cup. “Whatever do you have in mind, Ms. Braddock?” she questioned, truly curious. She was sure Psylocke would think of something fun, perhaps even a bit mischievous. “I hope it doesn’t involve you, Alison and Rogue wishing to play dress up with me again.”
“This time, no dress up,” Betsy said with a smirk. She sipped some more of her tea and then put the cup to one side for the moment. She sat back in her chair, one leg crossed over the other, her hands resting in her lap. “I’m thinking that we should get away from Westchester for a couple of days. Go somewhere remote where we don’t have to concern ourselves with the matters of whatever is it the rest of the world is worried about.”
Wade looked over at her and tilted his head slightly and shrugged at her. “Why are you suited up anyway? Do you just always wear that or are you off out to kick ass or something?”
“I don’t always wear this,” Betsy said somewhat defensively. “Sometimes I mix it up and wear sweatpants.” Her delivery was dry and sarcastic. However a smirk did find its way into her expression. “And as a matter of fact, I am off to kick ass or something.”
“GET DOWN FROM THERE BEFORE I HAVE TO COME GET YOU!” from Betsy/psylockedbetsy
“ Why?……There’s no point in anything anymore…..everything would be better I just…..didn’t exist.”
He had no intention of jumping….but he always came up to the roof to think. It was the only place he could really be alone with his thoughts. Where he could curl up and pretend just for a moment he was home. Away from this place, away from the X-Men, away from the Inhuman war….when he was just Morgan. When he was just a kid from Cardiff who loved ice cream and playing Yugioh.
He was homesick….he just wanted to go home. He was tired of this….tired of being reminded constantly of what he was. He wanted to go back to when he didn’t have all this weight glued to him over his heritage.
Morgan’s voice grew quiet as he looked down at Psylocke, a distant gaze upon him, like he was in his own world.
Betsy was fuming, possibly for all the wrong reasons. She was fuming because Morgan was risking his life. She was fuming because she hadn’t seen the signs that he might try to hurt himself in this way earlier. She was fuming because she had a cup of tea going cold while she tried to stop Morgan from flinging himself off the ledge.
“Morgan,” she snapped. “You better listen to me because I won’t be saying this again...
“Normalcy is over-rated. You, Morgan, are amazing. And not because of what you can do, or what anyone else may think of you. You are amazing because you are Morgan. You decide your fate, no one else. But you won’t get to see your future if you do something silly like jumping off of roofs.”
Betsy sighed and ran her hands through her hair. She believed in everything she was saying but she wasn’t sure if any of it was going to make a difference. “Either you climb down from there or I climb up to you. Whatever happens, we’re going to talk about this properly.”
He had never been given a name by Clan Akkaba, because there was a divide over what to do with him. Ozymandias ruled the clan, the child made so he could gain the ultimate revenge on he who enslaved him millennia before. Such sweet the chance was to take his greatest enemy, and turn him into his most loyal of slaves. Something that his former master, Rama-Tut, the one called Kang the Conqueror from the distant future had failed to do so long ago.
The child was just a tool, no consideration for him as a person. Heroes had gone to him expecting to find a monster….when all they found was a frightened little boy, trapped in a war he was born into with no fault of his own. Heroes that should have saved him….protected him. Rescued him from a life that would have never been his own….no more a person than a machine to be operated at the leisure of the wicked.
But it was heroes that ended him….he had no business even trusting her. Yet he did….because she showed him kindness. She showed him hope for a better future than the same bloodshed. She saw him as a person, and not a thing.
He looked into her eyes with his own red orbs as he answered her question.
“ My n-name…..is Morgan. Morgan Slade.”
Betsy nearly laughed at how ordinary the boy’s name was. The name sounded like any other kids his age, stuck in the nearly never-ending doldrums of high school. She could almost picture him wearing a letterman jacket while walking down the hallways of the school, surrounded by friends...
But that wasn’t the current situation Morgan was in. He had lived through the horrendous fate Fantomex has tried to impose on him, but he wasn’t exactly living a normal life either. But he was alive and Betsy believed that to be a huge move towards the positive.
“It is my pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Morgan Slade.” She gave him a friendly smile as she attempted to put away all of her troubled thoughts and worries. “My name is Elizabeth Braddock, but my friends call me Betsy.”
Betsy sat down at one of the desks in the room, hoping that she may come across as more relaxed now. Yes, a part of her was still unnerved by meeting Morgan but she was also keen to get to know him better. He had survived and he deserved to be treated as a whole person, not a ghost from the past come to haunt her.
Ro huffed and holding out the first shot. “Now you already know I will not.” she said firmly. “Alright Cheers!”
“Bottoms up!” Betsy downed her shot in one go and put the shot glass back down on the table. She refilled it again and waited for Ororo’s glass to be put down too.
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