Hope (Abbott) & Arthur | A New Case

[xp_longshot]

Arthur and Hope Abbott connect for the first time since Arthur’s powers returned. They talk of his recovery, the weird psychic events happening around the mansion, and how to find out more.


Arthur took in a deep breath of the crisp winter air, letting it wash over him. For him, things were always clearer outdoors — nature and the open sky acting as a gentle reminder of the size and breadth of the world as compared to one's own problems.

Problems he had told himself he was going to answer for.

The man took another deep breath, letting his face fall into a neutral smile. No amount of outdoor strolling was truly going to make the tension in his features loosen completely, but he took a sip from his Matcha and decided it was time to jump.

"So," he began, "The outdoors and a good, warm drink. On Valentine's, even. This must be serious to hold up plans with Sue."

"I was simply thinking this might be a more soothing place to meet up." Hope replied mildly, gesturing at the barely emerging snow drops with her own cup. "Especially after what happened last time . . . "

His expression quivered as the man tried to not flatten his own reaction, and, instead, opt toward honesty. "Hope, please excuse me, but we've worked together for years. This is, at least for me, serious. I owe you answers."

"Arthur, this is not any less serious for me." Hope glanced up, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking at the snowdrops again. "I do have a lot of questions about what is going on . . . but that does not mean this cannot be made easier."

"What if I'm tired of easy?" It was an honest question, delivered with a hint of desperation.

"This will still not be easy." Hope stated resolutely. "So nothing to get tired of, in my opinion." They walked for a few moments before Hope changed tacks. "What exactly happened, Arthur? Because it was all so very strange . . . "

Arthur grimaced. "There's been so much strange in my life, Hope. I'm going to need you to be more specific."

"When I was visiting you. Did something happen with your powers? Because it was very strange . . . " Hope paused a moment before adding: "And not just what happened with your powers . . ."

"Ah." Arthur suddenly could see the appeal of those snowdrops, but he took a long breath before plunging into an answer. It was easier to stare at the garden and confess to an audience. "My psychometry has been off since Haven. It isn't just objects, like we thought — I can see how people view themselves by touch, and Haller and I have been trying to figure out all of the details. I can see the future. Kind of. I know of at least two people who have had visions of my memories since then from what I've touched. The power just keeps growing, and it scares me. The gloves don't even work anymore."

The blond trailed off there, having to marshal himself again. Honesty. "My luck doesn't like it when I'm scared."

"You were scared . . ." Hope narrowed her eyes a little, quickly sorting through the information he'd given her and comparing it to what she'd seen. "When I handed you the knives, you connected to Death . . . I recognized the aura. Is that what set you off?"

This got his attention. "The aura?" Arthur immediately waved that off, for now. His tone was carefully neutral. "I encountered the Horseman during his rampage and read a piece of his armor. What I learned haunts me, and my luck responds to my feelings. I used my knives to get Death's attention."

"Arthur, do you remember when I first observed you when you used your psychometry?"

"Hope, you are extremely talented, but you did not swoon or faint during the bit with the knives. I am almost positive I would have noticed. You read my aura?"

"Yes, that is another thing . . . I will explain later . . ." Hope quickly moved on. "When I first observed you using your psychometry, your aura was influenced by Sue's aura, but this time it was Death's aura that nearly suffocated you . . . while you were touching the knives. You were connected with him."

"Ah," he remarked in a soft voice like he was thankful for a simple answer, "That would be because I saw two Deaths being created."

"Two Deaths?" She breathed out softly. "Are you saying there is one more out here?

Arthur bit his lip in serious consideration. "I don't think so? It was ancient, a memory. Safer to guess this has happened before. But more than that — I saw a looming figure in the space I can go to between those visions. Something . . . incomprehensible. Smothering."

"That sounds like a thoroughly unpleasant phenomenon." Hope stated dryly. "Did you see all of that when you touched your blades? Because that would definitely explain the luck snap. Or the anti-luck snap?"

He shrugged in defeat. "What's good luck for me is often bad luck for everyone. I had originally thought I'd have to pay for what I did in District X, but now I don't think it is that easy of an answer. You are right. I unraveled into my own trauma like a scene on loop — over and over and . . . "

The man tightened his face like a vice, eyes closed, and shook his head. "An echo. Over and over."

"Till it just lashed out?"

Arthur shrugged, but it was unclear what kind of shrug it was meant to be. "I am dealing with it."

Somewhere out of sight, there was a sharp THUMP as a passing vehicle ran over a scatter bed of nails. Unfortunate.

"Anyway," he continued, "That has been sorted and now I am fine. Bouncing forward."

"I think we might have different definitions of 'dealing with it', but very well . . ." Hope muttered to herself before continuing a little louder: "Still, it sounds like your visions have expanded before what you have been able to do before . . . The past I knew about, but this seems something more expansive . . . "

He stopped, and his blue eyes were suddenly sharp and sober. "Hope. No. Stop that."

"Stop what exactly?" Hope's eyebrow rose about an inch. "Stop asking about your powers? Or stop doing what?"

“That," and he didn't break his stare, "Stop muttering things under your breath. All that does is make others feel small."

Arthur shook his head, and his mouth flattened into a thin frown. "You tossed away my question about your powers before. I've found that at least six others are having similar problems, and that's three more than a pattern."

"My powers . . ." It took Hope a moment to shift tracks, but then her eyes narrowed. "Your powers are off, I have been having a weird incident or two and you are saying there are more? Who else?" Suddenly a puzzle piece slotted into place. "Quentin! He said something... now it makes sense."

"My psychometry started rapidly growing in December," Arthur confirmed. He started ticking off individuals on his fingers. "David has been extra sensitive since his coma. Marie-Ange. Artie Maddicks. Topaz. Yourself. I had suspected Quentin, but I couldn't be sure if it was just the drugs." He shook his head. "There's one thing we all have in common."

"We are all psi's, for one. And one strange power development can happen, two is a weird coincidence, but six people is a clear pattern of some strange happening." Hope easily concluded. "Do we know . . . because the first time for me was at our last meeting. And that is far later than December."

"Exactly," Arthur agreed with a smile on the first point. His earlier sharpness had evaporated, and now he was almost eager. "I know for sure that Artie, Marie-Ange, and David had issues in December. Before everything in District X . . . " His enthusiasm darkened like a cloud passing over the sun. "Could it be my luck?"

"I mean, I know you are in regular contact with David, Quentin and me, but do you see Artie, Marie-Ange and Topaz often enough for your luck to trigger something? And that still does not explain why it only started recently for me."

"No." He was in it, now, and practically tapping one foot with the groove of problem solving. "I should try to talk to more X-Force folks who aren't Marie-Ange, but she has been helping me with my foresight. She knew about Artie, though. Plus, how is any of this lucky? I've been miserable." A detail popped to mind, then, and he paused. "You were gone for most of December."

Hope's eyes narrowed immediately. "All the events, especially in the second half of the month. I was staying in the city most of the time." Her eyes snapped to Arthur. "So we could theorize proximity to or something in the mansion might be a factor here?"

Arthur bit his lip. "Do we know that?" An honest question, delivered kindly. "We need to get statements from, at least, all of the psis. Make a timeline. I know I was sharing my own memories in DX, but that was only once. Only two people told me it was happening. What I do is, however, more touchy than others." He stared off into the gardens like they suddenly held answers. "I haven't tried to use that power since Death."

"Talking to the psi's is a good starting point . . . as well as the timeline. But mansion proximity or influence of your powers might just as well be factors of influence we can keep in the back of our minds." Hope thought out loud. "And sooner rather than later."

"Say we find there's a pattern," Arthur wondered, "Or a cause. Say something is causing this." He did not openly add: "what do we do about it?", but it hung in the air. Unspoken.

"That is a bridge we can cross when we come to it." Hope's voice was much firmer this time. "Because you are right. Without more information we can only form the most basic of theories and that is not gonna help us anything further. So let us make a further plan to gather just that?"

This got a nod. Arthur reached into back pocket and produced a palm-sized notebook. Its pages were already covered with scribbles and shorthand, but the most standout items revealed as he flipped to a new page were what looked to be a table labelled with an underlined "Intent?" and a page of idly scribbled symbols.

“So, let's make this a case," he added cheerfully as he produced a pen from seemingly nowhere and began cataloging what had just been covered. "I've been gone for too long.”

Comments

[xp_legion]

"I am dealing with it."

Somewhere out of sight, there was a sharp THUMP as a passing vehicle ran over a scatter bed of nails. Unfortunate.

"Anyway," he continued, "That has been sorted and now I am fine. Bouncing forward."

"I think we might have different definitions of 'dealing with it'"


lol

Hope being the dry, reasonable one is entertaining, especially while she consistently shrugs off Arthur's little lashes of temper.