xp_logs | Artie and Annalee, Friday Afternoon

OOC: Backdated to Friday because I am made of fail with logs. Many thanks to Rossi for the amazing socking.

Artie encounters his past.

Artie often stopped in District X on his way home from school. It was a good place to get something to eat and, for the most part, the shops were more ...understanding about people who wrote notes asking for service or used a knife and fork on their cheeseburgers. In addition to that, it was cheap and the Westchester buses mostly all stopped just outside, so it wasn't any more inconvenient than heading across to the station closest to his school.

The boy had his backpack slung over one shoulder, a cup of iced tea in one hand as he hurried down the street toward the bus stop when he stopped, startled. There was a flash of greying blonde hair and raggedy green cardigan in the corner of his eye and he turned and stared at the woman hurrying past. It couldn't be but... he wasn't often mistaken about images and she looked almost the same, only older.

As if feeling his eyes on her, the woman looked back over her shoulder and then hurriedly away, increasing her pace. Her shoulders hunched up and she made several vague shooing gestures with her hand, as if hoping to deflect his gaze. She rounded a corner into an alley, glancing back at him almost furtively.

Artie followed, dodging around a grey-skinned woman selling hotdogs and a stack of flattened cardboard boxes. "Annalee?" he asked, rather than saying 'Mama?' like he desperately wanted to, projecting the words in front of her.

"Is that you?"

"Please, I'm just an old lady, don't hurt me..." Her mutterings died away at the sight of the writing on the wall and she spun around to face him, a half-mad hope in her eyes. ~Artie?~ Her hands fumbled through the sign language. "Artie? Is that you?"

He nodded and bit his lip. "Why didn't you ever come visit me?" I missed you.

"Oh, my boy! My lovely boy! At last!" She rushed at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tight. Her clothes and body hadn't been washed for a while, smelling of old sweat, dirt and garbage, and her hair was stiff and matted against his cheek. "I'm so sorry I let you go! I wanted to find you again, bring you back, but everyone said you were in a much better place, that you'd have a chance at a better life."

Artie hugged her back. The smell was familiar and, in a way, comforting, though it contrasted against the expectations that years at Xavier's had given him about these things. He pulled away, projecting the words against the wall, as he said "You still could have visited or something. I couldn't write when I went there and I didn't know sign language and they were so stupid about figuring out how to talk to me. And then Stryker kidnapped us and maybe, if I'd been visiting you, that wouldn't have happened!"

She reached out a hand to him, mouth trembling. "I thought I was doing the best thing for you, Artie. I did. I didn't mean..."

"We should um. Do you want to get a coffee or something? I'll pay. We could maybe talk or something," Artie said, looking nervous. He didn't even know if she liked coffee.