The Old Made New Again
by Contrail
Disclaimer: Marvel's universe belongs to Marvel, everything else belongs to me. Please ask before archiving.
The bell attached to the door jangled as I entered the antique shop, announcing my arrival. I nodded a greeting to the owner, who smiled a familiar smile in return. I often spent an hour or two after school here, just wandering around, finding new things to look at and revisiting favorite pieces, occasionally finding out that one had been sold. I'd always loved old things, even before my little gift manifested itself.
As I wandered through the aisles, I wondered as usual at what others had discarded. Tarnished silver bowls whose beautiful detailing would shine again with some polishing, chairs with ripped or stained or just plain ugly upholstery but solid, elegant frames, dressers and chests of drawers of rich woods that the minor dents and scratched merely added character to, or even perfectly intact, beautiful items that had been gotten rid of to make way for something new.
It always saddens me to think of beautifully crafted old things being discarded for shiny, mass produced, soulless new ones. Not that I revere *everything* old and hate anything that's new, mind you; A good portion of the stuff in this store is junk, badly broken or obsolete or just plain unattractive. And there are certainly good things being done now. But still, I can't help but feel like in our culture's rush to find the latest thing, we're losing the best aspects of what's been done in the past, just because preserving them would take a bit of care or fixing. But most people can't see the ghosts of their former glory like I can...
Eventually I meander back to the front counter. "How's business been, Mrs. Heron?" I asked with a pleasant smile.
"Oh, it's been how it usually is, Carrie. You know antiques, it's always the same old, same old. And before you ask, I do have something for you." Mrs. Heron pulled a package made out of folded up newspaper out from under the counter and handed it to me.
I gently unwrapped it to reveal a figurine of a graceful dancer, well, what *was* a figurine of a graceful dancer, actually. It must've been dropped or something, because it had been shattered into several pieces, and from the way the paint on it had faded it had to be rather old. I checked it over to make sure all the major pieces were there. They were, so I turned to Mrs. Heron and said, "This'll work just fine. How much do you want for it?"
"Just five dollars. And if you can fix that, I'll be amazed," she replied with a shake of her head.
I smiled and dug a five dollar bill out of my purse to give to her. "Like I've said before, I've got a special talent for fixing things." I gently wrapped the figurine back up and picked it up off the counter. "Have a nice day, Mrs. Heron."
"You too, Carrie." She smiled and waved as I left the store, bell jingling behind me.
I walked home quickly, filled with anticipation. I set my books down by the door and flew to my room with my new prize. After sizing up where it would look best on the shelf that holds the rest of my figurine collection, I dropped myself onto my bed and unwrapped the little dancer again. Placing my hands on the pieces, I relaxed and cleared my mind, then began to envision what the figurine would've looked like when it was whole and new.
When I could see it like it was sitting there in front of me, I concentrated and let the power flow, making my hands tingle. A few moments and it was done. I opened my eyes and lifted my hands from the figurine, whole once more, looking for all the world as if it had just been made yesterday. With a smile, I got up and placed it among the others.
Some mutants hate or fear their powers, and I guess I might too if I could shoot lightning from my eyes or disintegrate things with a touch, something that might hurt people. But me, I was gifted with something harmless and genuinely useful. I can see what things once were and restore them to that state, and it's an ability I wouldn't give up for anything in the world.