Chapter 2:
Of Blood and Fire
Summary: Little Lorna Dane witnesses her parents fighting, leading to a very painful and traumatic mutant power awakening.
Author’s Note: This is a retelling of Lorna’s origin story told in X-Factor #243, only with more POV on Lorna and an attempt by me to add more gravity to what happens. Whether I succeeded or failed in the latter, I don’t know, but I tried. 😛
Rage and blood and fire. People expect these things in a world of heroes and villains. Grand battles on city skylines. Ripped up streets. Crushed cars. They never think of the smaller battles, like two parents arguing in the cockpit of a plane. Sharp words cutting through fragile hearts and sore egos.
Like Arnold and Suzanna Dane.
The two once-proud parents stare at each other. Hateful glares. Blue and green eyes set upon each other, deciding how best to let loose with whatever wicked barbs their minds could conjure in the throes of anger.
“Don’t be an idiot!”
“I don’t know why the hell I married you in the first place!”
“Well, you were never around, Arnold!”
“He said I was perfect! You never said I was perfect!”
Anything, everything, they dredged the deepest pits of their souls for weapons that could burn, twist, slice through to reach those most delicate and sensitive, human parts. Years of love unraveled in the blink of an eye. Two eyes, in fact. Two small, green, wet eyes that still shimmered like the pair of emeralds those same parents always said they were.
The eyes of little Lorna Dane.
In her light green turtleneck and her blue overalls, clutching her fuzzy monkey doll, Lorna rubbed the sleep away and listened to every word. Every. Word. Soaking them in like a tiny sponge. Sitting on the aisle floor, she watched as cruelty and her sadness shook the cockpit door. Its metal hummed. Crackled. Green bolts coursed around its frame, glowing brighter and brighter as her parents got worse.
“Well, excuse the hell out of me for being busy earning a living to support my wife and our – sorry, your – child!”
A sniffle. Little Lorna’s little nose burned as much of the corner of her eye. A tear. Shimmering and sad, it snuck out and slipped down her puffy cheek. Her vision blurred as she hugged her Jojo tighter. Its fur sparked. Not that she noticed. Her innocent young mind settled on one thing above all others.
“M… mommy… daddy…” she mumbled. Drowned out by a sky of insults whipping about her. Her fragile, innocent voice found volume in her despair. “Stop fighting!”
In her thoughts, in her wildest fantasies and dreams, the young girl imagined something better. She imagined a mother and father, rushing out to comfort their dear child. She imagined scowls and sneers and spit replaced with love and smiles, as they lifted her in their arms and showed her how much she meant to them.
She frowned as they dashed her frail hopes.
“Oh, great! You woke up Lorna!” Suzanna shouted.
“Hey, you were the one who was screaming!” Arnold bit back.
The small bundle of joy sobbed to herself. Again, her parents used her on each other. As a weapon. As a burden. A cross to bear. She buried her face in Jojo’s crown and suffered more verbal stings in her ears. Heart pounding, face flushed, Lorna let her tears soak through her doll’s soft felt. It was there. To hold. To touch. To hug. It accepted and heard her, one playful friend… and the only thing in the whole plane who cared about her feelings at all.
“Stop fighting! Stop fighting!!!” Lorna screamed.
“Will you shut that little brat of yours up!”
Footsteps pounded on the floor. The cockpit door flew open, banged against the restroom sign. When little Lorna looked up, her sight cleared just enough to see her mother. Once angelic. Once serene. Now twisted. Hard lines, narrowed glare, nostrils flared. This demon in the dark hunched toward her.
“Be quiet, Lorna! Just shut up and go back to-”
She couldn’t take it anymore. Lorna’s sorrow pulsed and sizzled on her skin. Green enveloped her, bright and shimmering all across her body. Emerald streaks stained through her brown hair, strand by strand.
“Oh my god!” Suzanna whispered. Not in rage. Not in love. Fear. Trembling. Lip quivering. She could feel it coming. Regret swelled in her chest, but… too late. Far too late.
“STOPPP FIIIIIGHTIIIIING!”
Tears and blood and fire. As windows cracked and the plane’s wings ripped free, little Lorna lost her fight. And so much more.
The Polaris Chronicles – Chapter 2 – salarta – X-Men (Comicverse) [Archive of Our Own]
salarta 