2This story has been in the processing stage for a while, until one of my muses got annoyed. What were her exact words? Ah! 'GET THAT STORY WRITTEN, OR I'LL HIT YOU!"
And that's the politest version!
My muses are currently slightly annoyed, as I've finished the story after this, but not this one. Oh well! On with the show!
Innocence
"Professor!" yelled Jean "I've got something!" the professor wheeled himself into the room, where Cerebro was.
"What is it?"
"See for yourself." Jean said, pointing at the screen.
"I don't believe it! Do you have a fix?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"The village closest to Creator's Cave."
"How long since that battle."
"About a month, she's missed Christmas."
"Right. I'll sort this out. If this is right, then we need to know. If it's not, well, we still need to know."
"O.k." Jean wandered off.
* Ororo, could you come to Cerebro? I need your help. *
* Coming. *
Ororo wandered in,
"What is it?"
"Come and take a look at this."
"Is it possible?" Ororo stared at the screen.
"Seems so."
"Rac's alive?"
"If this pick-up is correct."
"And you want me to go there?"
"If you could."
"Fine. Can I take the Blackbird?"
"Sure."
"I'll be back soon."
"Fine." Ororo slipped out, got into the X-Jet and flew away.
"So, my little soldier still lives." Charles muttered, as he sat alone.
When she arrived at the village, she looked around for the vicarage, reasoning that the vicar would know if a child had turned up. It was fairly easy to spot, as it was right next to the church, and had a sign reading 'The Vicarage'. She walked up and knocked on the door. A young woman opened it.
"Excuse me, but have you found a lost child? She went missing, sometime ago."
"What does she look like?"
"She's got dark brown hair and eyes, a birthmark on one cheek and a scar on the other, both in the same shape, an hourglass."
"Yes, we found her. Come in, she's playing in the sitting room." Ororo came in, and found Rac, playing with some handmade dolls. Rac turned to look at Ororo, and frowned.
"Ororo! Stormy!" she squealed, rushing to give her a hug.
"Now up to bed!" the young woman instructed. Rac turned and ran up the stairs, "She recognises you. Who are you?"
"I'm Ororo."
"But what relation?"
"She's a ward, at the school I teach at. A boarding school." Ororo invented, desperately, before quickly producing the adoption papers.
"What of her parents?" the woman didn't even look at the papers carefully, which made Ororo relax slightly.
"They're dead. Who are you? And how did you find her?"
"I'm Alison. The vicar's wife. As for how we found her, well."
*Flashback*
It was early morning, a Sunday, the vicar and his wife walked into their little church. Curled up in front of the altar was a bundle, holding a box of matches. In front of it was a lit candle, the flame flickering; wax lay all around it. Scattered everywhere were matches.
"What is it, Steve?" Alison asked
"Looks like a child." Steve said, together they went closer and woke the child, gently.
"Angels.I ." The child whispered, for the first time they could see her face. She had a mat of curly, dark brown, dirty hair, black eyes, a birthmark of an hourglass on her left cheek, and a scar in the same shape on the right. Her face was dirty and tearstained. She had torn, dirty, overlarge clothes on, and the vague colours could just be seen under the muck. On her forehead were smears of blood, coming from three scrapes.
"What's your name?"
"Can't remember."
"Can you remember anything?"
" ! Mummy called me 'Lamb'.Her 'little lamb'."
"Where does mummy live?"
"With the angels."
"What about daddy?"
"With the angels."
"Who looks after you?"
"Can't remember."
"She's got amnesia."
"What shall we do with her?"
"We'll look after her." Alison took her home, and cleaned her up. Then they sat through the church service. The girl seemed to know all the hymns and most of the prayers. So they assumed she was a Christian.
The rest of that day, they asked the girl if this or that was her name. Finally they asked:
"Is Rachel your name?"
"Yes! Me Rac!"
"We should have guessed. Rachel means 'lamb'."
*End Flashback*
"Why does she call you 'Stormy'?"
"Well," Ororo invented madly "She used to be frightened of storms, and I used to comfort her."
"That explains it."
"Why did you take her in?"
"The Lord says 'Whatever you do for the least of my brothers, you do for me.' It was our duty."
"You could have just given her to an orphanage."
"We couldn't. She was found in our church. It is often referred to as the Church of the Lamb. And she is a lamb."
"I see."
"Well, she can go with you tomorrow, but I would like to hear how she's doing, every so often."
"Where's your husband?"
"Steve? He's doing Mass."
"Right! Is there anywhere I can sleep?"
"Up the stairs, on the right."
"Thank you." Ororo went up the stairs, and got into the bed. She needed Charles, now! She had a major problem on her hands.
About lunchtime Ororo arrived back at the mansion, Charles, Hank and Logan were waiting for her. She came down the stairs holding the hand of a 3- year-old child. She had her olive-skinned thumb in her mouth, and in the crook of her arm was a blue teddy bear. She had long, thick, curly dark brown hair, hanging loose. On her forehead was a scar, in the shape of a cross, with wings either side of it.
"Where's Rac?"
"Here." Ororo pointed at the child, who had her brow frowned in concentration, with a sigh
"Prof X! Logan! Wolfie! Hank! Beasty!" Rac squealed, her face lighting up, as she ran towards them, her hair flowing behind her, revealing her 2 distinctive marks. She jumped onto Hank, and buried herself in his fur.
"What's happened?"
"She's got amnesia."
"I meant her appearance."
"I don't know. Apparently, she's been like this for the past month."
"Brilliant!"
"What should we do?"
"I'll check her over in the san. Then we can get Jean and Scott to talk to her. They might be able to help."
"I'll go with that."
"Same here."
"Okay, Logan you go get them. Meet you in the San." Hank said, walking away with the small child hiding in his fur, enjoying the ride.
***
Please review! I'm in my GCSEs and need friends right now!
My muses are okay, but they aren't exactly very supportive!
Hayley: You'll be fine!
Henry: Stop complaining!
Hannah: *tries to strangle me*
Sarah: Post a new story!
See what I mean?
