-Finds her offices completely ransacked
-Calls Marco
Someone broke into my offices downtown. Everything is upturned, they were clearly looking for something. I already called Marco but I didn't know if you wanted to look around before I call the police.
Dad, it's me. Don't come to the office today. I'll call you later when I have more to tell you but just... promise me you'll stay home. Call me as soon as you get this. I love you.
Good morning everyone,
The office will be closed today until further notice. Please take the opportunity to work from home, or let me know if you need other accomodations.
I want you to hear it from me first, there has been a bit of damage done to the office. It seems there was a break-in last night. But rest assured, I'm handling everything and the situation will be rectified and the office will be back up and running as soon as possible.
If you have any questions or concerns, you know I am always available. Please call me at any time.
Carina
Sent from my iPhone
It's one thing that he can't really remember the week, but sadly he's so used to it that he doesn't think twice. It's a lot of deja-vu, things he knows he's experienced before (or even years before) but he can never quite put a finger on it. But this new thing? It happens at the worst possible time.
It happens at the worst possible time, because he is alone, and no one is around to see it happen.
For the last few weeks, Marcus had been trying to come to terms with things he had seen, things he knew he had done, and emails and letters he had read. The strange feeling that his children (still plural, which was so wild to Marcus) had more to them than he knew, that he had more to him that he knew. Letters written in his handwriting, saying thing that only he would know to be true, to validate the integrity of the letter. The words tell him to believe what he's reading, to believe what he's seeing. To believe what he's feeling. Because a side of him is far stronger than the other, and it's time he let that other side take control. He doesn't understand what that means, and is pretty sure he'll never understand that - it's the second (or possibly third) time he's read those words, going over the letter as if it would tell him something else. But the last time the notes from this "Max" indicated that Teddy was his son and he was correct, so Marcus felt that there was far more weight to the words. There had to be.
As if it would help solve his current problems and frustrations, as if it held the key to everything that was seemingly locked away. He was wrong of course, to try to find his answers in a piece of paper, in electronic letters he didn't even remember writing. So he tried to focus on something else. Anything else other than what is currently going through is mind, what is currently plaguing him, what is currently frightening him. That's when it starts.
When he's run low on his glass of bourbon, when he's starting to leave his home office to yet again refill his glass that his metal letter opener comes flying towards him directly off his desk. He hears it first, and turns around to face it. He then sees it, flinches, and holds out his hand and the letter opener stops in mid-air. With one hand on his empty glass and the other hand holding out to seemingly stop the opener, he takes a step forward. Curiosity gets the better of him, because once again the laws of Physics are failing him, the second time in a few short weeks. Only this time, there is no one else around to witness it. This time, Teddy isn't running around him at the speed of light, and they're not excitedly talking about the scientific reasoning for everything.
He's alone. He reaches out to touch the opener, and he does so; the letter opener frozen solid in mid air. It's not until he lowers his hand and he's not thinking of how it's suspended in mid-air that it drops. This can't be right. This doesn't make sense. Everything he's known as a scientist is denying that this could be possible. He shakes his head, blinks a few times, trying to clear his mind of what happened. He's tired. He's been drinking a lot. He must have been seeing things. Though, he didn't believe he had been seeing things when he witnessed the unusual before, so why was he thinking that now? Was it because it was him? It was one thing to stay strong and be there for his children, his family. It was another thing to do that for himself.
With everthing that had happened with Wynne, he had already felt like he was hanging by a thread, wondering what else had been kept from him, what else he might have been lied to about. It wasn't a good place to be. Putting on a good front was easy when people expected a certain thing from you. He learned that early on.
As he walked out of his office and through his living room, Marcus started to notice other objects start lifting from the ground, some suspended in air above their normal resting ground, and others following him towards his kitchen. He found himself hoping that if he walked a little faster, these metal objects would stop coming towards him as if he was suddenly magnetic, but it only causes the objects to follow him faster.
Without thinking about it, he turns around and makes a motion with his hand as if he's pushing back everything that was following him, and to his surprise, they all fall back to the ground. Some objects go flying, due to the speed in which they were traveling, and he's surprised that that particular law of physics was working. Because of course it would be that one.
Marcus allowed himself to fall into the couch, sinking into it as he looked around his living room. He tried to get lost in thought, to think of what the letters and emails said, but instead he was hit with something else. Memories of a man fighting his way through people coming towards them, using anything metalic as a weapon without even touching it. Floating a coin around his hand, the coin never touching his fingers. His three children, the colors of scarlet, blue, and green flashing through as memories. The memory of a red and purple helmet, that looks so familar, and suddenly, a name:
Magneto.
The realization hits Marcus hard, as he drops the empty bourbon glass, and the crystal shatters to the ground. This can't possibly be real. There are too many consequences to this, he couldn't remember last week, but he suddenly was getting filled with memories of this other man, the man he supposedly was.
It takes a moment, but he sits up from the couch and finally allows himself to really look around the living room. Marcus looks around at the objects on the ground, the vase lodged deep into his wall, the other couch turned over on it's side, various objects resting around his living room. It looks like a hurricane came through. But it wasn't a hurricane. It was apparently him.
Then he sees it. A quarter, resting on the ground. He picks it up, turning it over in his hands, and returns to the only still standing couch in the room. Marcus swallows hard, remembering the memory of the coin, as if it was him. He sits down, and stares at the coin, studying it, before he finds himself willing the coin to rise from his hand and to float seamlessly around his fingers with precision he couldn't have even imagined having.
One coin becomes two, becomes other random objects floating around the room, and soon becomes him sitting cross legged, hovering in mid air, using the polarity of the metal objects around him to keep him up. As if it's the most natural thing in the world. Because it feels and is the most natural thing in the world. For a brief moment, he feels a moment of clarity that he hasn't felt in years.
It quickly disappears. He thinks of what he's lost in the past months, and what he's gained. What he's bound to lose. The last thing he wants is to push anyone else further away. He fears that is exactly what this will do.
So he keeps the knowledge between himself and his 'other side', and his destroyed apartment. Because at the moment, with no one else around to hear it, the metal crashing to the ground doesn't make a sound.
Hello...Max.
Or Erik.
Or whatever the hell you go by now.
I want to say that I'm writing you with a clear mind and knowing exactly what I want to say, but I'm not. I can't remember last week at all, all I can remember is just a feeling that I had. One of strange dread. Is that right? Is that what I should have been feeling? There was a weird sense of loneliness too, despite knowing that I have everything I could have possibly wanted and more -- is this something that is left over from you? Are you changing the way that I'm thinking, that I'm feeling?
Teddy came to me to show me his powers before last week, and they were a sight to behold, but I wasn't sure if I fully believed in them. Science tells us a lot of things, and it tells us that those things shouldn't be possible. But I woke up with not only your memories of your life, but with your powers too. I'm trying to learn how to control it, how to not do something accidentally that could harm myself or others, and I suppose I'm asking for your guidance. You seemed willing to offer it before, and I was stubborn to accept. I'm rather stubborn, but after having access to the memories of your life, I'm guessing you're rather stubborn too.
Part of me cannot believe that I am writing an email to another side of me that will read this later on. But, this is my only option. I'm not sure if I am going to tell Marina or Teddy about this yet; if whatever power of yours I have now can possibly harm them, I would never forgive myself. It also wouldn't help my current legal case against Wynne too much.
I suppose when you are around next, please respond. I wish there was a better way to communicate but this will have to do for now.
- Marcus