Disclaimer: The only thing I own here is Melody. And the plot line.

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Auddy, for giving me his odd version of support which basically consists of agreeing with me while I criticize my writing.

Chapter Two: The Tests

Several weeks later

True to her word, Melody was on her way down to the Miami-Dade police academy for her interviews. Things were looking good. Good enough, in fact, for her to begin thinking about moving. Not to mention the fact that she had to be out of her dorm in two days.

But am I really ready to come back to Miami? She wondered. What if something happens? What if someone recognizes me? What if- No. Don't think about that. Think about these interviews. That's what matters right now. That, and those, she thought, glancing at the passenger's seat of her battered pickup where the folder containing her transcripts lay. Her "job" folder could get her in the door pretty much anywhere. In it was her SAT scores, her resume, letters of recommendation from professors and employers, and her trump card, her ace in the hole- the results of the official IQ test she was given before she was admitted to the university. The test that proved what the teachers had said all along- Melody Carver is a genius. But it was this test that gave it meaning. Now it meant hope. It meant freedom. It meant a new start, a future away from pain and fear. Because when the people from the university saw those magic numbers, not only did they change their minds about admitting her, they offered her a full ride scholarship. And now here she is- standing outside the police academy, about to start again. And then she did it- slammed the car door, walked up the steps, and entered the building. And for the first time in her life she began to believe the old cliché- "Today is the first day of the rest of your life".

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"May I help you?" asked the man at the front desk.

"Yes, my name is Melody Carver, I have an appointment with the head of Admissions."

"Admissions Department's that way," he said disinterestedly, pointing to his left.

"Thanks."

It was there, just as he said it would be. He didn't, however, mention that all it was was a door and a plaque reading "Admissions".

What am I supposed to do? Melody wondered. She laid her hand on the knob, paused, then changed her mind and knocked on the door.

"Come in," said a voice from the inside. Melody obeyed. Inside she found a small, well-lit office with a desk that had two chairs in front of it, a couple doors that led to other offices, and, of course, the head of Admissions. The head of admissions was a woman in her mid forties, dressed in a dark pantsuit and looking a bit austere.

"Miss Carver?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Please, sit down." Melody nodded and took a seat opposite the other woman. "Miss Carver, I'm Marlene Lucas, head of Admissions here at the academy."

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"Likewise." And then she was all business.

"Now, the reason for this meeting is for me to get a general sense of your personality, abilities, and how well you will deal with the rigors of training. A great deal of the training recruits go through is mental. It's not all about learning how to shoot a gun. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now, did you bring your transcripts with you?"

"I did."

"Let's have them, then." She took the proffered papers and sat in silence as she looked over them. "A bachelor's in both chemistry and psychology?"

"Yes, ma'am. And I'm thinking about going to the University of Miami to get my master's in chemistry as well."
"Impressive."

:"Thank you."

"So, why don't you tell me about yourself, Miss Carver."

"All right. Um… full name Melody Clarisse Carver, born in southern California on the twenty-fourth of May 1986. I moved to Miami when I was twelve, graduated from the University of Florida with a bachelor's in chemistry and psychology, and I am now in the process of-"

"Hold on a second. Did you say you were born in 1982?"
"No, 1986."

"That can't be right."

"I assure you it is."

"But that would mean that you're only… nineteen..."

"I am nineteen."

"But how… did you skip a couple grades in elementary school?"

"No. I, ah… I only went to high school for two years."

"Why?"

"Circumstances. I really can't give you the whole story right now. If you would really like to know, call Lieutenant Caine from CSI and ask him to meet with us."

"All right… So, you entered the university at the age of…?"
"Fifteen."

"And they let you in with only two years of high school?"

"My whole life teachers have told me that I'm a genius. I mentioned that to the admissions people there and they gave me an IQ test to see if it was true. They must have been satisfied with what they saw because they gave me a full ride scholarship."

At this she looked skeptical. "You took an IQ test and it got you admitted to university at the age of fifteen?"

"I have a copy of the test results if you'd like to see them."
"Please."

Melody picked up her "job" folder again, removing the needed document and handing it to Ms. Lucas, who accepted it and fell silent as she processed what her eyes were reading.

"Are these accurate?"

"As of four years ago."

"You haven't taken any others since?"

"No. It doesn't make much of a difference to me."

"Very well, Miss Carver. I think we're done here. Why don't you wait outside, someone will be along in a minute to take you to your exams."

"Exams? Are they aptitude tests or something of that nature? I didn't know there was any testing involved with the application process."

"Oh, no. These aren't the kind of exams you study for."

Medical exams, Melody realized. Not good.

The first step was a physical exam, and a rather thorough one at that.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Connell," said the baby-faced man in the white lab coat. "The only purpose of this physical is to make sure you don't have any contagious diseases or any conditions that might hinder you in your training."

"Sounds fine, Doctor."

"Awesome. Okay, I'm just going to need a little information from you, establish your medical history."

"Okay."

"Okay, um… first I need your full name, date of birth, place of birth, and current place of residence."

"Full name, Melody Clarisse Carver, born 5-24-1986 in Salinas, California. I'm kind of between houses right now."

"Why?"

"I've been living on campus at the University of Florida, but I have to be out of my dorm in two days. I was going to go look for a place when I left here."

"Okay. We'll skip that for now. Later on you can call the people in Records and inform them of your address change. Moving on. Any allergies?"

It basically went like that for the next five or ten minutes. Him asking questions, her answering them when she could. She got a little antsy when he started asking about hereditary conditions and family medical histories, and she couldn't tell him much.

"I never knew my father," she said, "and my mother died when I was little. My grandparents never talked about them." When the doctor tried to press further, she just asked what this had to do with her medical profile and then couldn't they just move on? He was forced to concede, and the examination moved on. In this respect it wasn't any different from a normal physical. He examined her eyes, throat, ears, lungs, and finally her reflexes. Not too much left. Blood pressure, height, weight, etc. Nothing interesting, until the scoliosis check.

"I'm going to have to ask you to remove your shirt," said the doctor regretfully.

Melody groaned. "Isn't there any other way to do this?"

"I'm afraid not. How about you just face away from me? All I'm going to do is ask you to bend over so I can examine your spine. I'm not even going to touch you. It'll be fine, all it takes is thirty seconds."

That's not any better, Melody thought. I'm not afraid of what he thinks I'm afraid of. Whether he touches me or not doesn't make any difference.

"Fine," she said, turning around and removing her shirt, exposing her back, bare now save for her bra. She bent over from the hips until she could slip her fingertips under her feet. All was silent. "Something wrong, Doc?"

"Uh… Miss Carver, can I ask you about these scars on your back?"

Melody was glad she was still facing away from the doctor as her expression quickly changed from mild curiosity to one of shock and lingering terror, then back as quickly as it had come.

"Not much to tell. It was an accident."

His expression was skeptical. "What kind of 'accident'?"

"The kind involving dirt bikes and cacti."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"All right. I think we're all done here, why don't you go to the next room for the last portion of this exam."

"Okay. Thanks for everything, Doctor Connell."
"You're welcome. And best of luck to you, I think you'll make a great officer."

"Thank you."

Then, with that, she was out the door and on her way to the last part of this ordeal.

That was close. But not a big deal. I just tell the same lie as always. That's not the part that scared me. For a minute there, I thought he was going to tell me- No.

Her memories slammed shut there, preventing her from losing it when she couldn't afford to. Not now. The here and now is all that matters. Just get through this. I need this.

A psych evaluation should be the easy part. After all, Melody was a psychology major- she's had the "textbook" answers memorized since her second year of college.

The next room was another small office, similar to the one Marlene Lucas had. This time, however, Melody entered with much more certainty- partially because she knew what was coming and partially to give the illusion of confidence and self-assuredness.

"Hello," she said to the man seated at the desk.

"Hello," he replied. "You must be Melody Carver."

"Yes sir."

"Excellent. Melody, I'm Doctor Cordell."

"Nice to meet you." Polite but casual. Good.

"Please, have a seat." He motioned to the chairs across from him and Melody obeyed.

"So, Miss Carver," he began," "I see that you have a bachelor's degree in psychology."

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Why did you want to study psychology?"

"Because I… I wanted to understand people. Why they do the things they do. What makes them tick."

"I see. Why is understanding so important to you?"

"I think… it gives you an edge, you know? You can predict what people will do if you understand behavior."

"You can guess what someone will do before they do it."

"Exactly."

"I see." He paused and scribbled a couple lines down on his pad of paper. "Miss Carver, have you ever been diagnosed with any psychological conditions?"

Ah… yes. I have… PTSD."

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Yes."

"Would you care to elaborate?"

"No, sir. But it won't affect my work. It doesn't affect my day-to-day life." Is sleeping part of living? Are dreams life? I don't think so.

"All right. Is there anything else?"

"Um. I suffered some head trauma during childhood. It left me with some compulsive tendencies and a mild case of ADD.

"Any amnesia as a result of this?"

"Not that I'm aware of." I wish. To forget… to forget would be happiness. It would be freedom. It's not for me.

"So, you have ADD, OCD, and PTSD."

"That's what they tell me."
"And you've had these since childhood?"

"OCD and ADD, yes."
"So all three conditions didn't result from the same incident?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you're aware that a condition like PTSD does not come about naturally."

"I know. You need trauma. It's what puts the "T" in PTSD."

"So you're saying you've had a traumatic experience?"

"Yes." Several. A lot. Half a lifetime's worth.

"Anything you'd like to discuss?"

"No."

And again, the rest of the exam was standard. It was over before long, and all without any major incident.

I think I just passed the test, Melody thought as she walked out of the front doors into the hot, humid Miami afternoon. But Lucas was wrong. I did have to study.

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A/N: Okay. You can't tell me that chapter didn't suck. Especially the end.

I'm really sorry it took so long. This last week has been hell. And unfortunately I'll probably be updating once a week from now on. Please don't kill me.

I'm still in need of a beta if anyone's interested, all you have to do is message me.

To my reviewers:

Rose.Ashton.Jade.Riddle.Malfoy: I'm glad you don't hate me. I hope you don't hate me now. And yes, your name is rather long.

Daxy: I'm glad you like my story so far. And thanks for calling me a great writer. Hope you liked this chapter.

N1kki1984: Thanks for the review. Hope you liked this chapter.

JauntyChick: Hola to you too. Glad you like it so far. Thanks for reviewing.

To everyone else:

Please review! I welcome your comments, questions, suggestions, whatever! Keep bugging me to update, my ADD is not conducive to any sort of continuity.