Empathy
Chapter 4
by
NYC
NOTE: This is my version of the night Logan "escaped" from those who gave him his adamantium skeleton.
"Everything You Want" by Vertical Horizon
Somewhere there's speaking/ It's already coming in
Oh and it's rising at the back of your mind
You never could get it/ Unless you were fed it
Now you're here and you don't know why
But under skinned knees and the skid marks/ Past the places where you used to learn
You howl and listen/ Listen and wait for the/ Echoes of Angels who won't return
Chorus--
He's everything you want/ He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you/ that you wish you could be
He says all the right things/ at exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you/ and you don't know why
You're waiting for someone to put you together
You're waiting for someone to push you away
There's always another room to discover
There's always something more you wish he'd say
(Chorus)
But you'll just tight/ and watch it unwind/ It's only what you're asking for
And you'll be just fine/ With all of your time/ It's only what you're waiting for
Out of the island/ Into the highway
Past the places where you might have turned
You never did notice/ But you still hide away
The anger of angels who won't return
(Chorus)
I am everything you want/ I am everything you need
I am everything inside of you that you wish you could be
I say all the right things at exactly the right time
But I mean nothing to you and I don't know why
And I don't know why...why...I don't know
The ride to Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Students was incredible, but even though the speed at which they'd been traveling was extraordinary, it was not as wondrous as the school itself.
Melody had been to many places during her wandering years, but all of them had been on the seedier side of the class line. In her youth, her parents had gone to nice places, some of them almost as nice as this. As Logan guided her up the walk, his hand around hers reassuringly, Melody found herself straining her neck to get a good look around.
She could sense a lot here. She had gotten pretty good, over the years, of just doing simple scanning, but she knew she had to be very careful, because if she opened herself up too much, she was going to take in too much---
There was a telepath here. No, not one. Two. One of them was very powerful. The other, she was learning.
How Melody knew that, she wasn't quite sure. She had never read anyone's thoughts before, and she wasn't sure that was exactly what she had done. Maybe it was the fact that both were now aware of her presence that she was aware of theirs. Maybe somehow her twisted little gift worked like that.
Logan tugged at her hand, and abruptly, she let go of him. She shrugged off his disappointment, trying to close up her walls but finding that they refused to work right. Sometimes it happened this way, if she took in too much her shields would get all jammed up, but she'd been careful---
They had parked inside the garage, amidst all the other various vehicles, and had gone into a side door, through the back hall of the house. It had been lavishly decorated, but now they were in the main room, and it made the back hall look like an underground cellar.
There were children around--teenagers. Melody almost lost her footing under the sudden onslaught--so much apprehension, so much fear, so much pain and longing---
Logan turned and looked at her, noticing her stagger, frowning in concern and confusion. "You okay?" he asked, reaching for her hand again and seizing it firmly. Her muscles tensed, keeping herself at a solid arm's length from him, but she let him pull her, not having much other choice, into the room.
"Logan!" came a voice tainted with a rich southern accent. A girl with dark brown hair and a vivid white streak at her crown came running, but she abruptly paused, almost streaking to a halt a good few feet away from them. She was dressed in dark clothing and her figure was developing very noticeably--Melody could almost hear her growing.
Instantly, Melody felt herself smiling, as if she knew this girl. Logan released her fingers, and took a step toward the girl, putting one arm carefully around her.
"Hey Rogue," he said, a bit roughly but with definite affection. She pressed her face to his chest, careful just to touch his clothes, not his skin. Melody felt the warm bond between them, resisted a jealous urge and let the pleasantness of the emotion wash over her. It was only then that she fully realized that she was smiling and banished it. She put both hands behind her back and laced her fingers together, just to discourage Logan from trying to coddle her again.
The two parted, and Logan turned to Melody. "This is Rogue," he said, and the girl's dark eyes riveted on her. "Rogue, this is Melody."
"Hi," Rogue said, instantly shy, which Melody sensed was her true nature. Without fully understanding why, Melody was compelled to stretch out her hand to shake it. Rogue hesitated.
"It's okay," Melody said. "You've got gloves on. I'm not afraid."
There was a flicker of surprise as Rogue darted her eyes at Logan, who let the slightest frown cross his brow. Then Rogue put her hand in Melody's and Melody squeezed it, then letting go.
"Ah see you've heard about me," Rogue said, her accented voice's sweetness matching her smile.
Melody gave her a returning smile, and shook her head. "A little," she said.
"Ah wish ah could say the same," Rogue said, her face openly curious. "Did you two--"
"It's a long story, Rogue," Logan said, patting her shoulder. "I'll tell it soon, I promise. But we need to see the professor."
"Oh...well, Ah think he's teachin' a class," Rogue said. Then her eyes darkened a bit, and Melody sensed a flicker in her emotions--mischief and a certain amount of apprehension, a quite curious mix. "Dr. Grey is downstairs, though. She just did a check-up on me."
Melody riveted her eyes to Logan's face. Now there was where the emotions were--and she didn't like it one bit. But she squashed that jealous feeling--this life had nothing to do with the time she and Ferro had shared--and the longer she spent in his presence, the more convinced Melody became that Ferro and Logan were not quite the same.
Perhaps, she thought with more than a touch of melancholy, Ferro was gone, and all that remained was Logan.
*Logan...*
He straightened, the curious feeling passing as he slung his arm around Melody's shoulder. "Good," he said, "she'll do. Come on, Mel, I want you to meet Jean."
But as they walked away from Rogue, all Melody could think was, *I'll bet you do.*
Melody didn't want to hate Dr. Jean Grey, but she couldn't help it. She was everything that Melody had always wanted to be, but could never have been. She was tall, lithe, moved like a cat, had the most beautiful natural shade of red hair and cool blue eyes that Melody had seen outside of a beauty magazine, and when Logan got around her, there was a sparkle in his eye and a particular emotion that hovered around his baser senses that made Melody feel like she had just walked in on two people during the most inopportune of moments.
They shook hands. For doctor's hands, Melody noted, they were a bit too pretty.
"How did you two meet?" Jean asked, looking from one to another.
"It's a long story," Logan said again, flashing Melody a smile meant only for her. Melody looked away, pleased at the slight pang it created in him. Really, if she didn't close up soon, she was going to overload---
Jean turned those blue eyes to her again, looking at her hard. Melody returned the look quite evenly, as if willing her to notice that---
"It was you before," Jean said, a touch of wonder in her voice. "I thought I sensed you outside."
"Huh?" Logan interrupted. "What? What's going on?"
A bit shaken, Jean turned to Logan. "I'm going to ask the Professor to come down as soon as possible," she said, then back at Melody, she said, "he's going to want to talk to you. I hope that's okay."
Melody gave a shrug, silent.
Jean furrowed one eyebrow. "Well...in the meanwhile, I'm sure you're welcome here. Any friend of Logan," and she hesitated, giving Logan a curious look. Melody's look darkened. Logan shot Jean a small smile, then turned his eyes back to Melody. "I must admit, I'm dying of curiosity. How did you two meet? I'm getting that you've known each other for a long, long time, and I know that Logan left here to---"
Logan's smile widened. It was uncharacteristic of him to offer a smile so easily, and it made Jean stop mid-sentence. "I'll wait until the Professor gets here," he said. "So I don't have to tell it more than once."
"Of course," Jean said. She offered Melody a warm smile. "If you'd like, I can show you to a room, give you some time to make yourself comfortable. The one next to mine and Scott's is open."
Logan cocked an eyebrow. He was going to say something smart, something flirtatious, as he was quite used to doing when it came to the beautiful doctor. But a swift look at Melody silenced him. Then, she sighed, all the fight going out of her.
"That'd be nice," she said, tired.
"Okay," Jean said, and led Melody from the room. Logan moved to follow them, but Melody froze, one hand in the air in a stopping motion.
"Please," she whispered, giving him that same tired, beaten look. "When your Professor gets here, I'll be back. But right now..." and her hand dropped with a sigh. "I'll see you soon."
So she left him there, following the beautiful Jean Grey, upon whom Melody knew with utter certainly Logan had the worst crush in the world.
Melody was silent as Jean tried to make conversation, telling her about the school, about the Professor, about how she'd met Logan, about how comfortable and how much she would like it here, etc., etc. By the time they actually got to the empty room, Jean was smiling and talking to her as if she'd know her for years.
Why did people always do that to her? Melody wondered. She hated it--it made her uncomfortable. People just didn't get that she didn't really care---
"Jean?" came a young-sounding male voice from the hallway as Melody plopped her bag upon the bed. Melody turned around to see a young man with a curious contraption covering his eyes poke his head around the corner. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"
"No, Scott," Jean said, extending a hand. "Melody, this is Scott Summers, my fiancee. Scott, this is Melody."
Scott stepped into the room, and Melody realized that it was a visor with a ruby quartz lens covering his eyes. But underneath it, Melody could see quite clearly that the man was rather attractive. He had a certain prettiness to him that reminded her of the guys she used to have crushes on in high school.
And then the word *fiancee* came rounding about to smack her in the forehead. She felt herself smiling her first real smile, one of relief. She was going to like Scott Summers very much.
"Hi," Melody said, extending a hand. Scott took it eagerly, smiling back at her.
"Nice to meet you," he said, and instantly Melody felt his compassion for her. No doubt, many mutants had found shelter here, and these people were the ones who did the initiating, offering the first words of encouragement to those who were scared and dispairing. She almost hated the thought of telling him that she was no mutant, just a little different, that she wasn't running from anything or anyone but herself.
No way a fancy school was going to help her with that.
"Mel came in with Logan," Jean said. "Oh, I'm sorry...do you mind if I call you Mel?"
"Melody is better," she replied, a bit tartly. "But whatever works."
"You know Logan pretty well?" Oh yes, the man's mood darkened considerably, and Melody could feel the intensity of his new look. Was she someone who might take Logan's attentions away from the fair Dr. Grey? He was hoping so.
Melody didn't know whether to laugh or scream. It was stupid, she told herself again. She was already falling back into an old pattern, and it wasn't even the same. Ferro wasn't the same.
"It's a long story," Melody said, a touch of sardonism in her voice. "If you want to hear it, the show is whenever your Professor gets some time to hear it. Logan only wants to tell it once."
"Ah." There was a hesitation. "Maybe you could spare me."
Melody laughed. It felt good. "Well, I'd hate to ruin his fun. As much as I'm sure he's not having anyway." She plucked at the straps of her bag with nervous energy.
"Well, Logan isn't much of a storyteller," Jean conceded.
"Hmmm," Scott said. "I wouldn't know."
Melody glanced at Dr. Grey, who's cheeks were reddening slightly. "The guy I knew wasn't, either," Melody said, "but considering it's his life story, where he came from, I think I'm willing to let him have the stage."
Instantly, the both of them were riveted on her. "He found out where he came from?" Jean whispered.
Melody regretted saying anything. She turned her eyes to the ruby quartz lens, seeing here own reflection there. "You might say that. I'm sure it hasn't all come back to him yet, but it will." She sighed. "It will." Then, to change the subject, she blinked and said, "Thanks, by the way, for letting Logan borrow your bike. It was very cool."
Scott seemed to shake himself. "Oh, yeah. Thanks. I designed it myself."
Melody nodded. "And while Logan would probably never say it, I know he's appreciated using it a lot." She sighed, sitting down on the bed. "I hate to be rude, but I really am tired. Even with your cool bike it was a long ride here, and I need some time to just...you know..."
"Oh, of course!" Jean said, and Scott stepped backward as she reached for the door. "Just let us know if you need anything," she said, pulling the door shut.
Melody nodded, giving them a short wave as the door effectively cut her off from the rest of the school. For a moment, Melody just sat there in the dim light, relishing the silence.
After several long, quiet minutes, Melody went and sat at the small mirrored dresser. She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and began running her brush through it. She stared at her reflection, thoughtfully.
She had never considered herself pretty, but she knew she was far from ugly. Still, fifteen years had marched across her face since her days with Ferro. Lines had formed, wrinkles and gray hairs.
She certainly wasn't Dr. Jean Grey.
With a sigh, Melody dropped her brush. She didn't really know what she was doing here. It was only because Logan had wanted her to come. He wanted to figure out his past. Maybe all the memories hadn't surfaced yet. That was entirely possible, in fact, completely likely. She knew enough about psychology to know that memories that were buried deep could often be pulled to the surface by a jarring event--in Logan's case, her sudden reappearance in his life--but often times they needed time to pan out. He could be remembering little things here and there for the next several years before all the pieces came together in a coherent enough picture for him to understand.
Several years...there was no way she could stay here that long. She was doubting her ability to last the next several days.
No, she would help him--she would tell him anything and everything she remembered. She sometimes wished she could forget it.
Shutting her eyes, she felt the memories hovering closer to the surface, and every once in a while she simply had to let herself see them or else they would explode into her brain at the worst times. She heard the screams, felt Ferro being pulled from her, felt them grabbing her, exposing her in a humiliating fashion as they gagged her with duct tape and handcuffed her hands behind her back. She smelled the gasoline as the sulfur as they lit the fatal match. She saw her parents' faces, saw her sister's horrified expression as they watched helplessly.
Just like that, it tumbled over her and slid out again, fading. Melody opened her eyes and took several deep breaths. It was so much easier when she didn't fight it. It went away more quickly, more completely. And every time, it was a little less intense.
Maybe someday it would fade altogether.
It was about an hour before the Professor arrived in his office. In the meanwhile, Logan had gotten himself settled into his old room, down the hall from Melody's. He wanted to go and talk to her, but he just kept seeing her face as she asked him, without words, to just leave her alone.
It was Jean. It had to be Jean. Somehow, Melody had always been able to sense what he was feeling, and somehow she had picked up on his attraction to Jean.
Sure, he was attracted to Jean. Only a blind fool wouldn't have been, and the only blind fool he knew was her fiancee, so that ruled that out. Logan had to smile...Visor Boy wasn't so bad, he'd loaned him his bike.
There was a knock on his door. Logan turned to see Rogue poking her head from behind the door, her white lock of hair glimmering in the light. "Hey there," she said.
Logan gave her a grin and nudged his head to the side, motioning her in. "In or out, kid," he said lightly, turning around.
She gave him a pure wicked grin. "Hmmm...well, after meeting your friend Ah'm tempted to think that's been your job," she said.
Logan had to chuckle. "Wow...grown a bit in the last six months, have we?"
Rogue shrugged. "Just a little. Ah like her, though," she added, brightening.
Logan nodded. "Good." Then he sighed. "I'm beginning to wonder, though, if she likes me."
Rogue scowled. Apparently, this concept was pure gibberish to her. "Why wouldn't she?"
Logan gave her a look. "It's a long story."
The scowl softened into a puzzled frown. "Tell me."
Logan sat down on the bed, running his hands through his hair. He wasn't sure what to tell Rogue, but her certainly didn't want to lie to her. He wasn't sure if the Professor would like her hanging around when he met Melody, but Logan had never cared much about what the Professor liked, there was no reason to start now. "I'm gonna tell everyone in a bit," he said. "C'mon down to the Professor's study when I tell ya. You'll hear it then."
Rogue shifted her feet. "Can't you give me a few clues?" she pressed.
"Since when did you get so nosy?" he teased.
"Ah'm not nosy," she returned, "except about you. Tell me."
"Well," and he hitched, not even sure where to begin. "I know what happened to me, at least, I think I do."
"With the experiments and all?"
He looked up at her. "You're not having nightmares, are you?"
She gave a shrug. "Ah had a few, while you were still recovering, but no, Ah haven't had one in about four months or so."
He nodded. "Good. But my point is that I know how I got there, and I know that Melody saved me. You see, she was with me before they took me to that place. She's the woman in the picture."
Instantly, Rogue's face lit up. "Really?" she all but screeched. "Oh, Logan, that's great!"
"Yeah, I thought so too, at first," he muttered. "But she doesn't seem so happy to see me. She gave me this big speech about how we weren't really in love, about dependency...she took care of me during a time of my life when I didn't have anything or anybody, I didn't know what I was, I was just some object to be experimented on. She was thrown into the mess with me, but instead of being scared and running away she helped me, taught me things, let me..." he hitched again, glancing at her nervously, "well, y'know what I mean."
"Yeah," Rogue said, her voice low.
"I can remember what it was like, being with her," he sighed. "I remember being happy, I remember being in love. And now, she tells me it was never real, that it was just because I was so helpless that I got attached to her."
"And was it?" Rogue pressed.
"You know, I asked myself the same question," he said, straightening. "All during the ride back, I asked myself, and even when I was with her at her place, when I found her, I asked myself. And I keep coming back to the same thing."
"Well?"
"I just wanna be with her. I don't care how or why. I don't care if she's taking care of me or if I'm taking care of her or what. Being with her...it's like some missing part of me..." he stopped, realizing he was going on way to much, revealing way too much. But this was Rogue. He trusted her.
"Like you were whole again," Rogue said, nodding. There was a pain in her face. "Ah understand that."
Logan shrugged. "Maybe she's right, though. Maybe it's all nothing."
"Ah don't think so, Logan," Rogue said. "No one can tell you you're in love, no one can tell you why. You just know it. And there's no reason why, it just is."
"Sounds like silly fairy tale bull to me," he muttered.
"That's the stuff that dreams are made of," Rogue said lightly, then shrugged under Logan's amused frown. "Sorry, Ah been watchin' that old movie channel lately. "But seriously, Logan, if you want to be with her, you gotta show her that you mean it. And it probably didn't help that you brought her back her so quickly, around Jean." Then Rogue stopped, realizing that she probably shouldn't have said that. Logan looked at her sharply.
"Come on, Rogue," he said, softly. "You know better than anyone what that was about."
"Do I?" she teased lightly. Then she laughed. "Well, to someone who doesn't know, it's gonna take a lot to convince them that your crush on Dr. Grey was just pure animal lust laced with a bit of like."
Logan shook his head. "Why am I taking advice from a teenager?" he growled, rising.
Rogue shrugged. "Ah dunno. Why are you? Maybe Ah make some sense and that's what you need. You want her, you gotta fight for her. Pure and simple." She let out a little sigh. "She'll love it, Logan. That sort of thing is so romantic."
Logan shuffled his feet, then headed for the door. "Well, I just have this feeling that she's not interested in me. That's she's convinced herself that she never really cared about me, not for real, that she just pitied me as some helpless cub or something."
"You ain't a cub no more," Rogue drawled. "But maybe, ya gotta start over. Get to know her again. She can't really argue too much with that, can she?"
Logan considered this. "Maybe."
"Put the past away and live for today," Rogue said, a bit prophetically. "If you let the past go, it can't come up between you. If she knows you don't care about your previous relationship, dependent or not, she's much more likely to believe you."
"And if she really doesn't feel the same?" Logan said. "What then?"
Rogue shrugged. "Ah don't know, Logan. Dr. Jean didn't feel the same and you lived."
"Yeah," Logan muttered, opening the door. "But she ain't Jean. I don't know if I'd bounce back this time."
"It's very odd," Jean said, pacing the floor in front of the Professor's desk. "I could sense that she has a mutant gift, like me, or like you, Professor, but it's different somehow. I know she couldn't read my thoughts, but she could sense them."
The Professor listened carefully, taking in Jean's every word. He glanced at Scott. "I liked her," Scott said. "She seemed nice."
"And that's another thing," Jean said. "I like her too. But it wasn't like we exchanged too many pleasantries. It's like, she has this strange connection with people, the ability to make them like her instantly or something."
"Well," the Professor said drolly, "if Logan likes her, then it must be a mutant gift, indeed."
"Good one, Chuck," Logan said, coming into the room. "Sure ya didn't hurt yerself, crackin' that joke n'all?"
The Professor gave Logan one of his gracious smiles. "Glad to see you again, Logan," he said. "I missed your unique ambiance. I trust the journey has gone quite well?"
Logan nodded. "I hear Jean's been telling you 'bout Melody."
"Yes," the Professor said. "I'd like to meet her right away. From what I understand, I believe she has a mutant gift."
Logan gave a little snort. "Oh, really?" he said. "Well, I don't know how much she'll like hearing that."
Professor X held up a hand. "Not quite like that, Logan. Nothing like your impressive gifts, but more like mine or Jean's. She seems to have an empathic connection with people. She can read their emotions, and establish some kind of empathic connection with people, gaining their trust with no other effort on her part."
Logan scowled. "But she's not telepathic?"
"No, I don't believe she can read their thoughts." The professor's eyes were far away, as if he were scanning her with his mind. "I don't know if she'd be willing to submit to any tests. She hasn't quite dealt with the possibility yet that she's a mutant."
"She's not a mutant," Logan said, snarling a bit.
The smile Professor X gave him was understanding. "Logan," he said, "not every mutant is a superhero. But as you wish, I won't press her."
"Thank you," Logan said, just as Melody came into the room.
When Melody came into the elegant study, they had all already assembled. Logan smiled at her, and for a moment, Melody saw the old Ferro there, his face lighting up in her presence.
Then Dr. Grey opened her mouth.
"Professor, this is Melody," she announced. "Melody, this is Professor Charles Xavier."
A distinguished man in a wheelchair came from around a desk. Melody stood up to him and shook his hand, sensing that was what he'd like. "Hello, Professor," she said. Then she grinned. "I don't suppose I can call you 'Wheels.'"
The Professor started a bit, then gave Logan a quick glance. "I see you've heard of me," he said.
Melody nodded, her smile friendly. "Don't worry, I don't believe any of it."
"Well, then that's a relief." He squeezed her hand before letting it go. "I trust you've been made comfortable?"
"Yes, my room's very nice." Melody turned away, and gave Scott a smile before plopping down in a couch beside his chair. "Although I have to admit that I'm hungry. When do you guys eat dinner around here, anyway?"
"We can send for a sandwich for you if you like," Professor X offered, "but dinner is in a few hours."
"Ah. Well, that's okay. I can wait." She patted her stomach. "I can bear it."
Logan came over and sat down beside Melody. At that moment, Rogue came into the room.
"Can I help you, dear?" Jean said, puzzled.
Rogue gave them all a bashful smile. "Logan said Ah could--"
"It's okay," Logan said. "Have a seat, Rogue. She wants to hear the story."
"I admit, I am quite curious," the Professor said, his eyes flashing with eagerness. "Did it happen at the military complex?"
"Well, not really," Logan said, and gave Melody a look. "Actually, I've been having a hard time trying to think of how to explain it myself."
Melody shifted a bit. "If it's any help," she said, "I found Logan in an abandoned house about fifteen or so years ago. But he wasn't called Logan. He was called Ferro."
Together, they told the tale. Piece by piece, it came out, Logan trying to give the narrative but Melody having to fill in the holes. It took forever, but when it was done everyone remained silent.
Finally, the Professor straightened and went around his desk to his computer. "Dr. Andrew Logan," he said, typing in the name. The computer worked for a moment, and then it produced a picture of a dignified man whose resemblance to Logan was uncanny. "I'm surprised I didn't make the connection sooner." He glanced at Logan. "If I had, though, I might have been tempted to believe that you were Dr. Logan. He's been missing for a considerable number of years, since the time you received your adamantium skeleton. There are no records of the work that was done on you, however, so we have no idea his connection."
"He wasn't responsible," Melody said, her voice low. "He didn't do it. He didn't want to see it happen to you, Logan," she added, looking at him earnestly. "That's why he helped me get you out. He didn't want them to hurt you any more than they did."
Impulsively, with her last words, Melody laid her hand over Logan's, her fingers falling into the grooves of his hands, where his claws came out. She squeezed his hand and then let go, standing up. She gave the Professor a look.
"I'm very sorry," the Professor said, "but I'm going to have to ask you all to leave. I must speak with Melody alone."
Logan stood up first. "Wait a minute."
"Please, Logan," Melody said, unable to look at him. "Just do it."
He sighed, turned away and all but stormed from the room. Rogue followed first, then Scott, then Jean, with a quick, furtive glance at the Professor. When the door clicked shut behind her, Melody raised her eyes to Professor X.
"What is it?" he whispered, leaning over his desk.
"I lied," she said, her voice ragged. "I could blame it on the fact that I was lied to, but I know the truth now, and I don't know how much longer I can keep from telling him."
"About Dr. Andrew Logan and your Ferro," the Professor said.
Melody nodded, near tears. "I let the story about the clone lie for more reasons that I can explain. But the bottom line is, I'm trying to protect someone. And it isn't just your Logan."
"Dr. Andrew as well," Professor X said. "He received a lot of credit for his breakthrough work with clones."
"Yes," Melody said, calming a bit as she pulled herself together. "But he lied. Logan isn't his clone. He's his son."
* * * * *
When Melody came to, she realized that she was still unclothed from her earlier run-in with Ferro. Her hands were no longer cuffed behind her back, but her wrists were so sore...she rubbed them before bringing them out from behind. Apparently, they had dumped her here and just left her alone.
She looked down. Her underwear, thankfully, were still in place. She was on a bed, more like a glorified cot, and it creaked loudly as she attempted to right herself. She covered herself with her arms, looking around for something that might do better, and was amazed to find a piece of clothing, like a military nightgown, strewn over the head of her bed.
She grabbed it and pulled it on.
How long she spent in that room, looking at its blank, sterile walls from her perch on the bed, the only piece of furniture in her cell, she did not know. She knew it had to be hours. Or at least, it felt like it. And with no one to keep her company but herself, all she could do in those hours was think.
She didn't want to think. And she certainly didn't want to feel.
Eventually, someone slipped a tray of food underneath a slot at the bottom of the door. It was a small load of bread and some processed meat and cheese, and a cup of soup. Melody sniffed it. Smelled like clam chowder, not the good kind that came from restaurants that was thick and creamy and rich, but the kind that came from old, cheap cans.
Hell, it was food. She devoured it eagerly, burning the roof of her mouth on the soup. She wanted to eat slowly to pass the time, but she realized that she was ravenous and the meal was gone quickly. When she finished, she set the tray by the door, figuring that someone would come for it.
More time passed. She felt sleepy, which was odd, considering she felt like she had done nothing else but sleep. She laid down, watching the door, scanning the walls, still not seeing any visible device that would indicate that she was being watched--even though she was sure she was, she could feel them looking at her--and just as her eyelids began to drift shut, the door opened.
Dr. Logan stepped through.
She sat bolt upright, her legs flying off the bed and her foot getting caught underneath her so she tripped and hit the wall across from the bed. She steadied herself and mustered up the worst glare she could conjure.
He just smiled at her. Placid, calm. Even happy to see her. "I take it you don't like your accommodations," he said softly. He was dressed in a long white coat with a badge over his heart with his picture and a bunch of writing Melody couldn't see to well at her distance. Underneath, he was in a clean white button-down shirt and dark pants, ever the picture of a Nobel peace prize winner. His hair was neatly combed, apparently he had recently shaved, and there was a quickly fading scar on his neck.
That was where her eyes landed. He reached up one impeccably manicured hand and rubbed it.
"What's not to like?" she said, her eyes steady. "Windows are highly overrated, anyway."
He chuckled, lowering his hand. "You don't seem as surprised to see me as I thought you would," he commented. Then he grunted. "Then again, being in as close quarters with Ferro as you have been, I'm inclined to think that few things surprise you anymore."
"Well," Melody said after a brief pause, "my new hosts make you and Ferro look like Carol and Mike Brady." She gave him a little glare. "I hope you all got enough to look at while I was in here."'
"Yes, it was quite undignified," he agreed, turning away to lean against the door. "That's why I provided some clothing. I would have covered you, but I didn't think you'd appreciate finding out about it later."
She sighed, slumping against the wall, her adrenaline giving out and her strength fading. She wound up in a sitting position. "Why am I here?" she asked, her tone dropping. "What do you guys want with me? And where's Ferro?"
Dr. Logan looked down at his feet. "They've got him," he said, his voice low, barely audible. "I can't tell you what they're doing, but I can tell you that you wouldn't like it at all. I don't even like it, but that hardly matters." She swore she saw a fleeting look of self-reproach on his face. "My behavior before your escape was not looked very kindly upon. I've sort of been excluded from this new project."
"New project?" she echoed. "Oh, God." She rested her head back against the wall. "As if the house wasn't bad enough...what are they doing to him now?"
"I already said I can't tell you," he said, irritably. Then he turned his eyes on her, stepping away from the door, coming over to the bed and perching on its edge, facing her squarely. "But the house was a pleasure cruise compared to now. They're keeping you because you know about him, about Ferro. And they don't want any loose ends."
She arched an eyebrow. "What about my family?" she whispered, hoarse.
He looked down. "They're alive," he said. "I don't know where they are, but they weren't captured. But your house was burned down."
She flinched, her head dropping to rest against her knees.
He shrugged. "I'm....I'm sorry."
Her head shot up immediately, her anger seething. "I'm sure you are."
His eyes met hers. "I am. There was no reason for it. But you were stupid to go there. It's more your fault than anyone else's. These people, they're not like me. They're worse."
"Your employers?" she ventured, her tone low, growling.
He nodded. "They're not going to let you leave here, Melody. Ever."
Panic threatened her. "So what are they going to do with me?" she asked. "Kill me?"
He averted his eyes. "I don't know."
Melody watched him, then slowly, carefully, she attempted to reach out to his mind. She had never done it before, never deliberately probed anyone's emotions, but she had to see if she could do it. Maybe she couldn't read his mind, but she could feel what he was feeling, see if he was lying to her.
What she felt astonished her. He was actually, genuinely concerned. She blinked, shocked. "You haven't told them about me," she said softly. "About what you think I can do."
"What you can do," he corrected, apparently discomfited by her mental touch. He ran a hand through his hair as if that would banish her contact. "No, I haven't. But I may have to."
She frowned. "But you don't want to?"
He shook his head. "No reason for it. No more than I want them to kill Ferro, but they're not going to kill Ferro." She swore she felt him shudder. She sensed that he wished that they would.
Only now did the real fear begin to creep into her stomach. "So what do we do?" she whispered. "How do we get out of this?"
He seemed surprised. "What do you mean we?" he challenged, rising. "I may be on probation but there is no reason why I should let my career go down the drain over you and a pet project. They can do with you as they please, but I'm not planning on helping them. Not after what they're trying to do to me."
Melody almost smiled. His little speech was as thin as the pathetic hospital robe she was wearing. "Okay," she said, looking away. "Oh, by the way, maybe you could arrange them to put a breath mint on my next meal tray? That clam chowder leaves an aftertaste."
He gazed down at her for a long moment, and then reached into his pocket. He tossed her a small, silver wrapped piece of candy, turned and left her alone.
Melody unwrapped the candy. Inside was an Andes chocolate mint. She smiled, popping it into her mouth. There was a lot more to the good doctor than he let on--she would sooner gag before admitting that he might actually be likable, and the marks on her back did not incline her to warm and fuzzy feelings, but he seemed to be searching for something.
Maybe a way out. Maybe she was a part of that somehow.
Then, as she was about to crinkle up the wrapper, she realized that there was a message written on the inside.
It said one word. *Patience.*
More time passed, and Melody dozed lightly. Every little noise woke her up. She could hear humming, like there was some sort of generator not too far away from her room. She could hear faint footsteps echoing as people walked up and down the hallway outside of her cell. But finally, all seemed to settle down, and Melody guessed that it was probably very, very late at night.
That was when she had the first dream.
She had just fallen into a solid sleep, when she felt a terrible pain along her arms. Like someone was cutting her open. She screamed and shook herself awake, only to be met by the stark whiteness of the room.
Didn't these people believe in turning off the lights?
She fell asleep again, dreaming about Ferro, about being with him, about their encounter in her room before the interruption. She woke up to the sound of breakfast being scooted underneath the same flap in the door, and she stumbled for it, smelling the melted butter on the cheap wheat toast and the too-salty eggs with their runny yolks. She consumed it eagerly.
She did not know how she passed the time, but somehow she did it. She must have spent a month in that room. No one came to visit her except for Dr. Logan, and he brought her things to help her pass the time--books, magazines, some puzzles, coloring books with very large, flat crayons (so she wouldn't try and hurt herself, he said). She took to drawing on the walls, just to see if anyone would notice.
Apparently, all the focus was on Ferro.
She would sometimes dream about him, and sometimes they were nightmares. And the nightmares were always the same--he was in a tank of water, and there were men hovering over him with needles and scalpels, and they were operating on him, but Ferro was awake the whole time, feeling the pain as they did God-knew-what to him. When she would dream about him otherwise, she would comfort him and hold him close and tell him just to hang on, and each time she could feel him slipping farther away from her. Sometimes he didn't know her, and she had to make him remember.
They didn't call him Ferro. They called him Logan. After the doctor. She hated that name, but it was all he was beginning to know. So she told him, the last time she dreamed about him, a full month after they had been brought here, to always return to her.
*Always return to me, Logan.*
She knew the days and the nights by some strange internal clock she developed, but it helped when she asked Dr. Logan to get the lights in her room shut off at midnight every night, and have them turned on again at 8 in the morning. It helped so much, to have that marker.
Otherwise, she feared she might have gone mad.
As she sat in that cell, waiting for God-knew-what to happen to her, she tried to use her power. To understand what Dr. Logan had told her, and attempt to control it.
It worked for a bit. She managed to stretch her mind out and feel the emotions of the people around her. But she couldn't get into their heads, couldn't see anything. It felt useless--so she stopped.
But somehow, by doing those exercises, she had opened a door she couldn't quite close.
On the last day she spent in that cell, Dr. Logan came into her room shortly after the lights had gone out. He was dressed in dark clothing and he was carrying a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt in one hand with a flashlight in the other. She nearly leapt out of bed, surprised by his entrance.
"Get up," he ordered roughly. "I don't have a lot of time. It's taken me forever to plan this just right, and I won't have you screw it up."
She would have retorted, but she was so grateful for the clothing that she bit her tongue. He slid the door open again, peeked out, and then shut it, turning his attention back to her.
"What's going on?" she whispered as she began to pull on the clothes.
"You're going to get Ferro out of here," he said. "They've changed him...I don't know how much, but it's horrible. I can't bear to let him stay here anymore. He has to get out, he'll be better off anywhere but here."
Changed him? "Is it safe?" she asked, her voice trembling a bit.
He shrugged. "I don't know. Whatever they've done to him, they've driven him fairly well nuts, but I have a feeling that won't be a problem for you."
"Oh, great," she muttered, snapping up the jeans. "Thanks a lot."
"Don't mention it," he returned. "Here's a map. I have Ferro's location circled in red. You won't experience much interference, because I'll be taking care of it, but you may have to use your empathic powers to squelch some curiosity, so stay alert."
"I can do that?" she whispered.
"Of course you can," he all but snarled. "Haven't you been practicing? You've had little else to do in here."
"Do I get a flashlight?" she snarled back. "I may be empathic but I can't see in the dark."
"Yes, take mine," he said, giving it to her. She shone it up at him, almost viciously, right into his face. He barely flinched, and for the first time she realized how panicked he was, how incredibly high-strung.
She paused, lowering the flashlight a bit to cast them both into a softer glow. She looked at him very hard, stepping closer to him, so close she could feel his breath on her face.
"Why are you doing this, Andrew?" she asked gently, daring to use his first name. It just didn't seem right to call him Dr. Logan anymore, not in light of the circumstances. "What's really motivating you."
"You wouldn't understand," he muttered.
She did smile this time, softly. "Wouldn't I?" she said. "I care about Ferro too, you know. Probably more than you."
His eyes met hers. She saw something there...something that made her want to reach up a hand and touch his face, if it meant getting at the answer.
His emotions fluttered out toward her, and if they were being drawn by her or if he was offering him, she would never fully know. She could sense it, hovering there, the truth that was behind all of this strange behavior by a man she had first thought was a real monster.
Then, it came to her--bright and quick as if she had turned the flashlight around and shone it right into her eyes.
"He's your son," she whispered, stunned. "Not your clone...your son."
He turned away and stepped out into the hallway. She did not speak again as she followed. Now was not the time for such startled revelations to be absorbed, she realized as she cool, dark silence of the hallway greeted her. Now was the time to act.
It was a blur, following his directions and getting down to the sealed lab where they kept Ferro. How exactly she got in she didn't understand, but it worked so she didn't stick around to question it too much. She got into his room, a cell like hers, where he slept on a bed like hers, in a hell worse than hers had ever been.
He looked different--larger, somehow. More muscular. His face seemed different, set in stronger lines, marred by a different kind of agony. She barely got two feet into the room before he shot up, his claws sliding out of his hands, catching on the thin light of her flashlight to reveal that they were no longer simply bone, but they gleamed with a bright metal.
His eyes--she had never seen such maddess. Melody almost shrieked and turned and ran, but her back hit the door and closed it. She flipped the light around, trying to get as much into its glow as possible, and extended a hand.
"Ferro!" she cried.
The arm that had begun an arch through the air to come down upon her stopped, and he looked at her, the maddess peeling back to reveal the faint spark of recognition.
"Mel...mel...mela..." but the word wouldn't work, it wouldn't come out.
She stepped closer to him, letting him smell her, and reached out to touch his face. "It's me, Ferro," she whispered, near tears. "It's me. I'm going to get you out of here."
"Melo..." but still, the name wouldn't come. He slumped down, and Melody got underneath his upraised arm, resting it across her shoulders. She wrapped her other arm around his waist and guided him toward the door. He seemed strong enough, but the shock of her presence had apparently knocked some of the sense from him. She led him into the hallway, down the corridor, and toward the exit that Andrew had marked on the map.
Within minutes, they were outside. And what an outside it was.
Frozen forest, as far as she could see. For a moment, Melody froze herself, disbelieving. Where were they? She had never seen anything like this, not ever. She had lived in Canada all her life, but this was the middle of nowhere.
It didn't matter, she told herself. For some reason, she trusted Andrew. He hadn't brought her this far just to see her fail. She had felt his sincerity, his assuredness that she would escape, or that at the very least, she would get Ferro out, and his plan would not fail.
So she got one foot into the snow and proceeded to storm their way out into the cold night.
She didn't know how long she walked. It all felt like one white, blazing blur, like cold fire licking at her legs. She couldn't feel her fingers, she only knew they were embedded against Ferro's hard muscled shoulder and the other was digging into his wrist.
His strength had given out half-way through the journey and she had had to half-carry him. Whatever they'd done to him it had traumatized him extensively--his healing factor was working double overtime to try and compensate and even it wasn't working fast enough.
She saw the lines on his arms, the faint marking that had been made with some sort of pencil. It looked like his skeleton.
What in the name of God had they done to him?
Finally, unable to withstand his weight anymore, Melody stopped. Gently, she got to her knees and let Ferro roll his weight off of her, into the snow. It was deep, around their shins, and his sweating body sunk into it.
She had read *Call of the Wild* a long time ago when she was a kid. She remembered being fascinated by one thing--the wolves buried themselves in the snow for warmth. The burrows they made contained their body heat. Maybe if she could get Ferro into something like that she could rest a bit. She didn't want him to freeze to death out here--
But that wouldn't happen. He'd survive this. It wouldn't kill him. She didn't even know if he could be killed. It was unthinkable, for her to have such thoughts. She pushed them away and began digging into the thick snow with her numb fingers, pushing herself hard.
As the numbness gave way to biting pain, she heard a voice in her head. It wasn't anything distinct or psychotic--it was her own. It was asking her something.
"Why are you doing this?"
And why, indeed? Ferro's safely was so important to her that she was willing to push herself to limits of endurance that she never knew she had. And why? Because she cared about him.
"Because I love him, dammit!" she screamed out into the cold empty snow. She had risen up to her knees, her fists clenched and waving in the air. Ferro stirred slightly at her outburst but his mostly unconscious state remained. She fell forward, her hands in the snow, sobbing with the pain, with the confusion, with the emotions that here grinding her heart and the rest of her insides between two blocks of iron.
She didn't know why. She didn't. And it was killing her.
What was there to love? she asked herself, even as she went over and dragged him by his arm into the dent she had made in the snow. He was so heavy--God, was he made of metal or something? Or maybe all that healing factor gave him super strong muscles. She didn't know what to think anymore.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing," she answered the voiceless voice. She made him curl his muscles up into a fetal position and shoved him as hard as possible into the snow. Where was she getting this strength? It wasn't hers, it couldn't have been. But she was frantic now, something was pushing her, some terrible fear--
In the distance, she heard a howl. Dogs. Dogs that he been sent out to find them. She could feel the men, their anxiety, their rage as they searched the forest for their prodigal experiment. They wanted him back, they didn't care what they had to do to get him.
Fear gave her a new surge of strength. She didn't know what compelled her to reach down and yank off his pants--only later on would she realize that it would drag Ferro's scent away with her. She left him in the snow, naked--he had no underwear, she realized with dull amusement--and covered him. She left a hole for air, but other than that he was fine. She even reached inside, trying to touch his mind with her own.
Peace. Calm. He was warm. He had stopped shivering.
It would do until she could get back to him. Clutching the pants against her chest, letting his sweat streak her cheeks and soak the shirt she was wearing, she ran off in the opposite direction, praying that her stupid, half-witted plan would work. She didn't even notice that the picture that strange elderly woman had took flew out of the back pocket of Ferro's pants, where he had stuffed it and it had remained hidden the whole time. It flew out as she walked away, landing just outside of the hiding place, right beside the airhole.
She could hear the dogs, getting closer. They were behind her somewhere, in the clearing she had just passed. She was trying to watch her footprints, trying to make a circle, and was planning to find a tree to hide in, if she could keep her wits around her long enough to do it without giving herself away by more footprints. She had seen the *Shining* once as a teenager. She would never forget the final chase through the maze. If a little boy could be smart enough to pull off such a trick, she could too.
But the snow was blowing, and while that might have been in her favor it made her lose track of where she was. Pretty soon, she knew she was lost. The dogs got father away by some miracle, and she saw a fence.
On the other side, there was a car. And it was running. As if waiting for her.
She reached the fence, but didn't touch it. Something told her not to. She looked at the car for a long, hard minute, and finally the driver's door opened.
Andrew stepped out.
"Where's Ferro?" he asked, without even blinking.
"What are you doing here?" she asked dully, her mind losing its ability to function in the numbing cold.
"Things went sour. I had to get out of there. I'd hoped you'd come out somewhere along this way, but the fence is electrified."
She nodded. So that was why...why was it getting so hard to think? Why were her limbs feeling like water? She sunk down to her knees, trying to breathe, but the thick clouds coming from her lips seemed to turn on her, wanting to suffocate her. She vaguely heard her name before the blinding white turned into blinding darkness.
For a moment, Melody wondered if she was dead. Maybe she was in her coffin, its high, padded walls on either side of her, rocking her gently into an eternal lullaby.
Beethoven's fifth came blaring into her ears. No such luck. She lifted her head, blinked past the pain, and made herself sit up.
She was in the back seat of a car. It smelled of new leather and smoke. Smoke? She turned her head and saw on the floor of the back seat a badly charred pair of gloves. She looked up and saw the back of a familiar dark head of hair, sitting patiently.
"About time," he said, impatiently. He turned and looked at her. His face was blotchy, and she could sense some lingering pain and an incredible amount of anxiety. "Now that you're awake, I don't suppose your memory is functioning?"
She nodded her head. "Suppose...what do you want to know?" She felt like she was trying to talk from underwater.
He sighed. "Where's Ferro?" he asked wearily.
"I buried him...in the snow...to protect him," she said, leaning against the soft back of the seat. "I was trying to lead the dogs away."
"That explains why you were clutching his pants," Andrew said wryly, then turned around. Melody caught a glimpse at his hands, which were red with burns.
"What happened to you?" she asked.
He gave her a look that made her feel rather stupid. "You were on the other side of an electrified fence," he said. "I had to get to you, and you were no help."
"Oh." For some bizarre reason, that thought touched her, that he had hurt himself in an effort to help her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he said testily, opening the car door. "I hope you got enough rest because we have to go into the woods to try and find Ferro."
What? What had he said? It sounded vaguely familiar...she'd heard Ferro's name at the end. "Huh?" she said. "How? You said there was a fence---"
"Yes, but there was a hole that I made a few days ago," he said. "Unfortunately, you didn't come anywhere near it. I had to cut through a new one to get you out. This one," and he gestured to it, "is better hidden."
She looked at it. So they had driven around and were on the other side? Or maybe they were closer to where Andrew had estimated they would come out. She had to hand it to him, he was extremely intelligent. He'd been smart enough to get her out of that compound, smart enough to clear her path right to Ferro, and smart enough to get her out before she almost got caught. Now if only he'd provided her with a coat and a pair of snow boots, it might have actually worked.
He turned and bent, looking into the car. She swore his look was almost apologetic. "Come on, for his sake we have to hurry. Can you remember where you left him?"
Melody climbed out of the car. She didn't feel as tired as she did before--it was the thought of Ferro needing her that fueled her. But the world still felt a little blurry as she followed Andrew through the opening, being careful not to touch the metal fence, and going back into the woods.
Somehow, she managed to find it. Whether it was blind staggering, some sort of psychic trail she had left, or the fact that some part of her brain remembered the path even though her conscious mind had no clue, she would never know. But soon she saw a large lump in the snow, a lump that had been upheaved from within.
From within...not without. There were handprints. He had clawed his way out. He had dragged himself almost a hundred feet--they saw the marks in the snow where he crawled--and then collapsed.
Then there were footprints. Normal, walking footprints. No sign of dogs, no sign of other men. Just Ferro's bare feet. Just the outline of his naked body in the snow.
He was gone. And she had no idea where he was.
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