Titles: Inconspicuous

Summary: X2 fic, AU, during and after attack. Ryro and Romy. Rogue's not with Bobby. Jean can be "dead" if you want her to be. She's not in this story anyway. John stayed with the x-men. Everything else is the same.

Disclaimer: Marvel and Fox own things that I don't. I don't own K-Swiss. Tatiana L.. owns the poem.

A/N: Thanks Tatiana and bunny angel for the beta. Thanks Radha, Jo-Anne and ramblingsofcrazywomen for your help on chapter one. Please review. Archive is welcome—tell me where, so I can link to it. orlimutie.net or ebonylinkinpark.com. Edited by B. Angel (who wanted contractions).


Schemes of colors
Rays of light
Broken prisms thrust before my eyes
To be shown in all its splendor
In it's deceptive portrayal
Of what is simply white
Yet surrounded by emptiness
Surrounded by darkness
That clings to every pore
And drowns me within
Pools of olive and cerulean spheres
Taunting me
Imploring me
To reach further into the fantasy
To bury who I am
To deceive my body and soul
And acquiesce my failing grasp
Until the laughter,
The amusement that lies hidden
Consumes me whole
And leaves me to drift
Endlessly and hopelessly
Into the arms of deception
Where those who may reach me
Those who I hold dear
Are simply a mirage
Or a fruitless advocate of freedom
That will be erased and replaced
Until I accept this world
And in doubts of its existence
desire it to be real.

Tatiana L. (MiraiXenia18)

There is always silence. The is the sound of nothing pouring into your ears like a pitcher of water. The sound of nothing exerting the pressure of the deep sea against your eardrums. The silence makes it presence known, felt through the agony of the sound of nothing deafening you. You become lost in the sound of nothing carrying you through this void, this opaque abyss, this hole you have descended into, left ignorant of the whys and whens of what is happening to you. You are wondering what is this place? When did you get sucked in here? How did you not know it was happening? Why is it happening? You try ask yourself these questions, but you cannot because your thoughts are trapped, locked away in a penitentiary in your head and the key is lost to you, leaving you nothing but a haze of emotions as you float helplessly into the middle of a sea of perplexity and anxiety.

You try to see through the ocean of black, but it is too deep. You are looking feet into feet of darkness, thinking all the time you are getting closer and closer to the end; but this void, it goes on and on into eternity, and now it is pulling you in deeper and deeper until you are no longer floating steadily, but you are spinning, reeling out of control. Any rationality you would have left within you has been engulfed by the panic and trepidation now striving to grasp at your body; although you do not even know if your body exists. In a desperate attempt to escape you squeeze your eyes shut, but the darkness follows and greets you on the other side, slipping through as your eyes close from one void to another. Its way of telling you it is in control and always will be. You would be crying, and maybe you are, but you are too numb to know. You wonder if this is death, or if you are heading there.

You have been rendered senseless: no hearing, no sight, no taste, no smell, no touch. You are grasping at nothing, like you would gasp for air after you have nearly drowned, but there is nothing there; there is nothing. You wonder when this is going to end, if it will not, and if you have truly discovered the concept of infinity. And then suddenly, and your senses slam into your body like a brick. You have woken up. You shudder violently as it all flows back. The sun blinding your eyes as it filters through the window, so bright it burns at your cornea; the sound of your life pounding stridently in your ears, like the sound of an amplified drumbeat, deafening you; the bed beneath you, clenched tightly in your hands; the mattress giving at your fingernails; the heat radiating off your body; the tears drying on your face; your lungs ready to burst as you release the stale air you have been holding hostage; the taste of your own mouth; the taste of the air being sucked down; the smell of it rushing through your nostrils as you breathe deeply as if for the first time…

And you cannot stop trembling.