ELENI
Eleni gazed out over the dusty courtyard, noting a cat that quickly scampered off to no one knew where. A few local residents were out, chatting with each other. A woman wheeling a cart of assorted items was no doubt off to sell them at the Washing Court just a few blocks away. Eleni found herself staring at the woman's scaled visage. Even after all this time, she still wasn't used to living with mutants. As the woman exited the space via a small corridor, the young woman's eyes came to rest on a poster featuring Tracy Lensherr. With its smooth, untorn surface, it was clearly a new addition to the square.
"What happened, Elle?" G asked. Eleni pulled her attention from being thankful the infamous future Head seemed to have forgotten her. Then she sighed. G's question was not unexpected, though she had hoped her stiff silence would dissuade her self-appointed brother.
"I don't want to talk about it." Her companion snorted.
"Mattie's not doing much better, you know." She did know. She tried not to feel it.
"Yeah, well, that's how things go."
"They don't have to."
"Just who am I talking to now?" G gave a small laugh. She watched him sideways trying to understand why this man, who had been an ally of sorts in keeping Matthew away, now seemed to have switched sides.
Eleni had started coming to the DownMountain whenever she could. January had just begun, and rehearsals for Swan Lake were starting. As understudy to the lead role, she had a large amount of choreography to learn. Madam P had been sympathetic, however, and gave her some of those lessons outside of the regular rehearsal hours. Holding her promise to the woman tight, for it was the only thing that kept her now, Eleni did her best at learning the steps, even though the ballet teacher was another person who made comments about Matthew to the extent that Eleni was starting to anticipate them. The trips DownMountain had provided some respite from that. Until today.
"Adam mentioned something about a pair of earrings. Was that it?"
"Since when are you in Adam's confidence?"
G gave her an arch look. "I cultivate relationships wherever I can. Especially if it keeps me close to Mattie." Eleni wondered who was trying to hold on to Matthew tighter; the UpMountain crowd or G. "So, was it the earrings?"
Eleni sighed. She didn't like to lie when she didn't have to.
"No. They were a bit much, but that's not what made us break up."
"What was it, then?"
Eleni liked G and was glad they were friends now. She didn't however, like the fact that it gave him the leverage to ask questions like that one. A pressure grew in her chest. Gazing away from G, she took some deep breaths to lessen the tightness.
"It was something that will stay between Matthew and I, but it was something I just can't compromise on." G looked at her, then looked away and was silent for his own moment. Eleni watched him out of the corner of her eye.
He was about to speak again when a group of young teens entered the court. G's attention was drawn to them immediately, and a frown creased his brow. Eleni took in the mismatched clothing of the newcomers which, combined with a general air of indifference around them, helped her identified the source of her friend's concern. The gang at the Tower called kids like these the 'lost ones', a play on the name of a group of boys from some ancient fairy tale. G firmly rejected attempts to brand him as the boy who led them. Whenever it came up, he slapped his belly and made the pointed remark 'when this fat flies.'
"Quintina!" G called out. The group shuffled a bit, but then a young teen with tufted ears and sharp teeth emerged and came in their direction, her friends trailing behind.
"What is it, G? I'm not looking for wholesome fun today."
"Yeah, I figured that, since you're coming from the direction of the gaming shacks." Though G's tone hadn't been accusing, Quintina glared at him and started to turn away. "Where's Trideratops?" The girl shrugged.
"He's found some employment."
"Kinda young, no?" Another shrug.
"It pays, and they treat him well. Don't see anything wrong with that."
"Where's he working?"
"He asked me not to share. Look, I gotta get going." The girl turned and walked away. G's eyes rested on the shoes on her feet as she retreated.
"Those are new, and pricy. Where'd she get the credit for that?"
"What?" Eleni asked, not understanding.
"They have next to nothing, those kids. No one to buy them shoes like that. Either she got credit, or someone gave them to her, and both of those situations worry me." The man sat back to think as the group of kids left the courtyard.
Eleni watched them until the last one had disappeared. She had learned that they were most likely results of the Birth Proxy program. As part of the contract the woman entered into when she joined in the program, she agreed to raise the child that resulted. Or children; some women did the program for as long as they were able to bear children. The credit the women got in return, for however long the child was with her, gave her a semi-decent life by DownMountain standards.
Most of those women raised the kids in a family setting; single mothers were part of the fabric here. It had taken Eleni some time to adapt to that fact, even though she herself had been raised by a single mother. Unlike the Citadel, here they were accepted as a natural part of the society. However, there was a portion of the Birth Proxy population who did little more than keep the children they bore alive and didn't hide their lack of interest in their offspring who had been no more than a method of obtaining credit. Many of these kids became the 'lost ones': having understood since they were small the exact value placed on their lives, their self-motivation was correspondingly low. Other kids who were emotionally low for a variety of reasons joined them. It was these groups that G targeted for the Towers, but the older they got, the harder it was to engage them.
Eleni was distracted from her thoughts as G spoke again. Apparently, he hadn't given up.
"He was trying, Elle. He really cares for you." Eleni dropped her head, angling it away from G and squeezed her eyes shut.
"G, you must see it was never going to last. This just meant it ended sooner than even I guessed."
"Why not? Why couldn't it last?" Again, she wondered where cynical, realist G had gone to.
Eleni didn't answer. She was an expert at keeping her feelings under control. Her mother had taught her from a young age that her ability to do so meant keeping her life, and much more. But this situation and this conversation were testing even her ability to stay calm no matter what she was feeling under the surface. Now she had memories of being in Matthew's arms, of relaxing and laughing with him, of quiet moments together. She had somehow convinced herself at the beginning of the relationship that giving in to her attraction for a short time would be manageable in the aftermath.
It wasn't, and part of her still wanted that relationship. She sometimes found herself thinking that maybe the slips were as infrequent as Matthew said and posed little danger. Or, maybe, she could even share with him the reason why she couldn't set down roots here.
DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!
The memory came on so violently Eleni's head jerked back and she took a sharp breath in. She caught G looking at her in alarm and tried to paint it as a reaction to thoughts of Matthew.
"It's not something I take lightly, G, I miss him. But it's better this way. It just couldn't last." Desperate, she changed the subject. If G could ask personal questions of her now, she could ask them of him. She focused on keeping her voice calm. "Hey, there's something I've wanted to ask you."
He looked at her, reluctance in his eyes, and she guessed he was not yet ready to abandon his efforts on Matthew's behalf.
"Your sister. You helped me because I look like her, right?" G nodded. Another debt, and one owed to someone to whom she could never repay it. Eleni swallowed and managed her composure. "What happened to her?"
G looked sad.
"This place happened to her." He took a deep breath. "She was injured when we were taken, and it changed her. She would never have been able to live independently, and they don't like that at the Montagne. Puberty came and went, and she developed no mutant ability." G looked at Eleni anger banked in his eyes. "A handicapped mutant is bad enough. A handicapped non-mutant doesn't deserve to live."
"Did they kill her?" G looked forward again.
"As good as. Suddenly doctor's appointments became difficult to book, medicines were always 'out-of-stock'. Tara was forever getting sick – she seemed to pick up whatever bug was going around. She got one that was too hard for her body to fight off, and I couldn't get any help." He shrugged, though his eyes glistened. "I was there with her at the end. She wasn't alone."
Eleni reached out to take G's hand and gave it a squeeze.
"Just when I think I've heard the worst..." she mumbled.
"It was better where you came from, right?" Eleni froze realizing the topic G was breaching. She had never spoken to the man about her life before the Montangne, and he had respected the distance between them and never asked.
She hated to lie. She shrugged.
"It wasn't really a great place for me." G looked surprised and worried.
"What happened? Why did you leave?"
"There was an attack." Eleni didn't understand the despair that crossed G's face. His eyes went distant.
"There was a group of people who arrived a few years after we got here. They didn't talk much." He fixed his eyes on Eleni to emphasize the next point. "They take a vow not to in order to be allowed into the Montagne. They are fined, or worse, if they are caught speaking of the outside world." Eleni recalled G had made an offhand comment about not talking about life outside the Montagne the first time they had eaten together at the cafeteria. Not that she had had any inclination to speak of her former life, then or now. "Even with them trying to stay mum, I learned that there had been an attack at their outpost… 'like a tornado blowing through the tunnels'." That sounded like G was quoting someone. "They think they were the only ones who had survived. They barely made it to the Montagne alive." He sighed and looked sad and disappointed.
Silence descended on that somber note. Eleni thought they might go back to the Towers when G spoke again.
"I've told you the bad, but what needs to be remembered is the good. Tara was the most beautiful person I have ever known." He looked at Eleni sideways. "Don't you dare tell any of the gang, but she called me Gigi."
MATTHEW
Matthew completed the segment of dance and carefully lowered Jenna to the floor. She spun around, as she used to do when they were together, and grinned up at him. He smiled back.
Two and a half weeks had passed since he and Eleni had broken up. Eleni continued to avoid him and refused to talk. Matthew thought he was starting to accept the situation. At least, he no longer felt hurt or angry. Mostly he lived in a luke-warm cocoon of middle emotions, none particularly strong.
"Very good," came Madam P's voice, and he looked up at his dance teacher. "Please add that to the rest of the choreography, and I will be back shortly to see the result."
She left, and Jenna moved to take her starting position.
The rehearsals for Swan Lake were in full swing, and his university classes had begun a few days ago. Juggling those two schedules was proving to be difficult, as his classes met throughout the day and sometimes into the evening. He was trying to switch to mostly morning classes, and if that worked it would take some pressure off of him.
"Ready?" He nodded to Jenna's inquiry, and they danced.
It felt good, working on a project with Jenna again. Familiar and comfortable. So unlike his relationship with Eleni.
He had suggested to Madam P that he should also have some time practicing with Eleni, as she was learning Jenna's role. The teacher had told him, perhaps a bit sadly, but firmly, that for now Eleni was fine with the practice she had with Adam and Matthew's understudy.
The segment came to a close, and again Jenna turned to him. This time she reached her hand up behind his neck and pulled him into a kiss.
Jenna had been friendly to him since the start of rehearsal, more so once his breakup with Eleni had been confirmed. The other students at the school were still cool to him, so Jenna's acceptance had been something of a relief. The kiss brought back memories. Again, it contrasted with Eleni; warm and welcoming where Eleni had been guarded and cool. He pulled Jenna close.
A wretched sound pulled them apart. Cordelia stood at the doorway, her claws out and just run down the stone of the wall. She had a smile on her face; a mix of satisfaction and bitterness. It was quite ugly.
"We are all requested in the auditorium." She turned on her heel slowly, and left keeping her eyes on them until the last possible moment. Matthew felt Jenna's hand slip into his. He looked down to find her smiling shyly up at him. This time, he didn't smile back, but he didn't remove his hand, either.
In the auditorium, everyone was gathering in front of the stage. Eleni was nowhere in the crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Much of the cast was from the other two ballet schools who participated in the annual performance. This was the first day they were all here together.
The gathering was to introduce the teachers from all three schools; the heads of the other schools would be working as assistant directors, though Madam Pietrovich claimed ultimate control being the most senior of them. She gave a small speech as she made the introductions.
"This performance is a challenge, and I know that everyone here will work to their utmost to meet that challenge and exceed it." Madam P finished, nailing her message into each and every student with her firm smile and hawk eyes.
Matthew felt Jenna shift beside him and looked to find her smiling ruefully at him from where she sat on the edge of the stage. Again, her hand came out and pulled him to her. His hesitation came too late. Their lips met.
His heart broke.
He didn't see Jenna's questioning look as he pulled back or hear the jeering of their fellow dancers. He rapidly blinked back tears, wondering why the feeling he had finally succeeded in not feeling was suddenly in control of him. Then, it wavered and slowly faded. No, not faded; it was forced back into the iron box where it lived.
Matthew looked up and to the back of the auditorium in time to see a door close. A large shape was slowly making its way out of the seats. Matthew knew that if he could see G's face, it would hold nothing but disgust and disdain for him. He stubbornly pushed that knowledge aside.
He ignored the hurt and followed Jenna back into the practice room. There was nothing he could do. It seemed he and Eleni were at a dead end. Their feelings for each other weren't enough, and he couldn't change that fact no matter how hard he tried.
It wasn't until he heard a door lock behind him that he realized Jenna had not led him back to the practice room. They were in one of the small meeting rooms, populated with a couple chairs, a table and a couch. Jenna came back around him and pulled him into a kiss. He didn't have the will to refuse.
"Come on, Mattie. Let's go back to my house," she whispered a little while later. They had moved to the couch. Matthew moved his lips back to Jenna's to stop her request. He knew they needed to stop soon, but for now it was something that felt good and he wanted that.
So, Eleni's heart was breaking. So what? She was the one who had rejected him. She was the one who had placed an impossible demand upon him. He firmly pushed thoughts of her aside and lost himself in the sensations of being with a woman who wanted him with no conditions.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to go back to Jenna's house and take their time about it, he found himself thinking. It had been so long. He didn't act on the thought, but he also ignored his hesitations as their clothing started to come off. He pretended not to notice the flash of alarm, horror and hurt as his passion built. He was too far gone by then, he told himself, and the physical sensations, coupled with such a willing partner, provided welcome respite from everything else.
He felt sick after, as he sat beside Jenna, who snuggled against him as if nothing had changed between them in the past year.
Matthew was turned inward, as occasionally feelings of hurt, betrayal and anger seeped through the bond only to be ruthlessly battered back down. He couldn't stop himself. This way, he could feel that she was there; that he had gotten her attention.
Matthew had difficulty falling asleep that night. His guilt over causing Eleni that pain had finally taken hold and tormented him. The awkward memory of telling Jenna it had only been sex, and nothing more was the icing on that bitter cake. She had rejected his assertion, and he suspected she saw things as repaired between them. He had ignored most of the texts she had sent him throughout the evening.
Finally, sometime after midnight, he started to drift off.
Goodbye Matthew.
The thought was as light as a feather and came as if sent from across the desert. Had he not been in the vulnerable state of near-sleep it probably would not have registered at all.
He came fully awake, not understanding what had just happened, but knowing beyond a doubt that Eleni was leaving.
"No!"
Don't leave me! The telepathic yell back through the bond was instinctive as he jumped out of bed, working on nothing but emotion.
He was once again rushing to the late-night train to the DownMountain.
It didn't occur to him to ask why he was heading DownMountain and not to Madam P's until he was on the train. Nonetheless, he knew he was right.
Over the past couple of weeks, he had occasionally pondered the thought that he had caught from Eleni's mind. That she was planning to leave. It hadn't made sense to him, but now sitting on the train, he worked it out. She had accepted that she couldn't stay UpMountain and had already been planning to return to the more welcoming, if destitute, section of the Montagne. She had planned to leave him behind in the process.
He jumped off the train and reached out telepathically. He didn't care about alarming her; this would be small compared to the damage he had already done. He mentally called to her once he located her mind.
Eleni, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. We need to talk! Don't leave!
She shut him out. As well as she could, of course, which he judged was fairly well. He could have reached further into her mind and forced communication if he had wanted. But he didn't do that, and she didn't offer any thoughts or feelings back. The grey veil of determined indifference settled over her mental state.
Come to the station, he whispered mentally, tossing the thought at her. He sat on the steps and waited.
He waited a long time, nearly two hours, before she came. Her eyes were ice, and her feelings frozen along with them. Over the past two hours, he had occasionally felt pain, terror, betrayal, and hatred seep through the bond. He couldn't feel them now.
She stopped a few feet from him.
"You're not going to let me go, are you?" she demanded quietly. "You won't be able to stop yourself from looking for me." She was right, but he didn't respond to that.
"Eleni, what I did was horrible. There's no excuse. I'm sorry. I truly am."
"Did you follow me here just to apologize for that?" Her tone was level, but her eyes glared disdain and hatred. Then her lips twisted nastily. "We're not together anymore. You can screw whoever you choose. I'll just be there in the backseat every time." For the first time ever, their bond took on a sinister cast to him. He desperately held on to the fact that when he had had sex with Jenna, he had imagined every second as if it were with Eleni, as if that somehow made the situation ok.
Eleni was turning away.
"Elle, I'm going to find a way! A way to keep my telepathy from slipping. It didn't happen before, so there must be a way to stop it!"
"That doesn't matter anymore." She continued to walk away.
"Eleni. Don't go," he whispered. Wetness dripped onto his cheeks as she disappeared into the darkness.
Madam Pietrovich was not impressed with his wrecked appearance at rehearsal that day. Matthew had sat in front of the station the entire night and had felt a small relief when Eleni had appeared in the early morning to take a train back to the UpMountain. She had avoided him after entering the station, and he had not seen her since. Madam P, who cornered him after watching him practice for all of two minutes, provided no answers.
"What are you doing?" She wasn't talking about his dancing. "Your disgusting little tryst with Jenna is far from a secret. You know how vulnerable Eleni is! You have hurt her deeply. She tried to leave last night! I only know because I wake early and found her note before she returned. I've been trying to talk her around for you, but after your extracurricular activities yesterday, I will stop." The aged teacher clenched her jaw at the memory. "Matthew, have you no sense? This behavior is unacceptable for a multitude of reasons, as is your performance today. Go home. I can't stand to look at you."
He didn't go home. He went to the university library and checked out the same books on telepathy he had read before. Then, back in his bedroom, he read as much as he could before he passed out from exhaustion.
Over the next few days, he forced himself to his university classes and dance rehearsal, but he barely heard the lectures, and was put on a sort of probation for his performance, or lack thereof, at the dance school. He didn't care; his mind was too occupied by the failure he was meeting in his research.
The awkward situation he had created with Jenna complicated things to the point that he almost dropped out of the ballet. She, of course, expected him to continue being physical with her; she thought that was all it would take to make everything right between them. He tried to push off her advances as well as he could, but on a few occasions the hopelessness that lingered in him eroded his resolve, and they ended up in dangerously compromising situations from which he was only barely able to disentangle himself.
Redoubling his thoughts that he didn't want to do anything that would worsen the situation between himself and Eleni, he started drawing a firm line.
"Jenna, stop! I told you, it was a mistake! There is nothing between us!" Jenna's eyes flashed as he pushed her away. She was taking this like one of the occasional tiffs of their past relationship.
"You know there is, Matthew! And on that day, you finally admitted it to yourself. What is between us is deep! It's strong! I don't know what that slut did that was so great, but it is nothing next to us. You are starting to see that again. Just let her go, Mattie. Come back to me!" The last was a tearful plea, and Jenna stepped up to him again, trying again to pull him close. He pushed her away roughly and hurt flooded her face.
When Master Trenaw, the owner of one of the other dance studios, came in a few minutes later to see about their progress, he tsked disappointedly to find that they were not even dancing and left shortly thereafter. Matthew sighed in frustration, knowing he had another mark against him on his record.
"Come on, Jenna. We're here to dance. Let's get this over with," he growled. With his anger and her hurt, they hardly appeared like the couple in love that they were meant to be on stage.
Matthew tried again to get access to Eleni, this time through his father. He almost never saw her when he was at the dance studio, and he knew that was no accident.
"I could practice with her?" he asked that same evening at dinner. "Say I just happened to stop by the practice room when you are there…" Adam shook his head firmly.
"You don't have that time, Matthew. Anyway, she has asked only to dance with you if it is necessary." In other words, if Jenna was sick. Matthew tried to turn his thoughts away from hopes that Jenna would fall ill, to little avail. His father unfortunately was not done. "And, after what you did with Jenna, Mattie, I don't know why you are even asking for that. Why did you have sex with her? Some people take infidelity in stride, but for others it is a deal breaker. You knew the risk. At the very least, my past should have been a good example!"
Katyana, I'm so sorry!
Matthew determinedly ignored the thought he had accidently gleaned from his father's brain.
"It wasn't really cheating on her," he muttered lamely.
"But you wanted to get back with Eleni?" A reluctant nod. Adam threw his hands up in exasperation. "And where in that effort does having sex with someone else help?"
"I was so frustrated, and sad because Eleni refused to be with me. Even though she still cares for me!"
"Maybe she just needed some time, Mattie. It had only been a couple of weeks. The earrings really overwhelmed her it seems."
"It wasn't the earrings, Dad! She had accepted those!" Adam paused.
"Then what was it?"
"She was planning to leave. She won't stay here. She didn't see us staying together long term. She let that slip."
Adam was quiet for a moment.
"But then, why did you break up? That seems like something you could have worked on over time."
"When I called her out on it, she got upset," Matthew lied.
"That was the fight you guys had." It wasn't really a question, but Matthew nodded, swallowing another lie. He needed any kind of help he could get.
"I was so happy with her. I felt like we'd finally found a good place. So then to find out she didn't have faith in our relationship? That really hurt."
Adam was nodding slowly.
"Mattie, that's a hard one. I see how much this is hurting you. And things were starting to go well for you two. But," he took a deep breath, "I can also understand her feelings. I can't imagine what it must be like for her walking around and knowing that nearly every person she meets doesn't want her here. And most definitely not with you. I don't know, Mattie. I don't know if there is a way forward for the two of you." Matthew looked away from the help his father was not. At least it had been good to get some of the things that had been eating at his heart out in the open.
His research continued, and he exhausted the books from the library within a week and a half. None of them recommended a method for containing his telepathy. The slips were increasing; he had one every couple of days now. He still hadn't told his father or anyone else, wanting to solve the problem on his own so that he could move on to getting Eleni back.
Desperate, he went to the one place he could think of that he hadn't yet tried.
"Ho, Mattie. Going after the military women now, are you?" He bristled at the familiar, mocking tone, and turned to see G coming up another side of the building he had just passed. He was on the campus of the military academy, which was located just south of the university. Remembering the last time they had seen each other, he hesitated before stopping. G noticed and glared at him.
"You're right. I don't really want to talk to you either. But that doesn't change the fact that I've missed you." G slugged him in the arm.
"You finally found your way?" Matthew asked grudgingly and slightly surprised.
"No. They smartened up and started sending people to meet me at the train." The large man grimaced, an expression that bordered on a sneer. "So now I get to be a lab rat." His nonchalant shrug belied his bitter tone. "Nothing yet. Could simply be I have the incredible ability to make massively large—"
"How is Elle?" Matthew cut his friend off, in no mood for his humor.
"You have no right to know."
"She left me. I want her back!"
"You have a funny way of showing it." By the tone Matthew knew that G was aware of all that had passed between himself and Jenna.
"That was a stupid mistake. I'm trying to make up for it." G's eyebrows went up, his doubt that Matthew could ever do that clear. Matthew's spirits fell, and they walked on in silence. Matthew was going the wrong direction, now, but he didn't want G to know his goal.
"Hey, Mattie," G caught his arm just before they reached the exit, where Matthew knew he could break away and double back without raising G's suspicions. His friend pointed to a red-brick dormitory a short distance away from them. Kids from young teenagers down to age 8 or so were playing outside. Their play had a militaristic bend to it, with sergeants ordering infantry around, but it was play nonetheless. "What is that?"
Matthew shrugged. "Some people send their kids to the military academy from the start. What of it?" He waited for G's sneering response to the practices of the UpMountain.
"I've recognized some of those kids," was all the man said. He looked concerned, but nearly pushed Matthew over with a slap on his back by way of farewell. His parting comment of 'see you' was a distracted mumble.
Relieved to be free from G, Matthew doubled back and finally made it to the library on the military academy campus. He entered and registered himself there. The experience made him wince; he didn't want to be on the military's radar, but he couldn't access the library until he did so. The process was surprisingly fast.
An hour later, he emerged with three volumes tucked into his bag, and barely made it to ballet rehearsal on time.
Three days later Matthew left his house in the early morning and waited for Eleni outside Madam P's. When she emerged to walk to school, Eleni saw him, then walked on as if he wasn't there. He kept pace and whispered furiously.
"Elle, I've found a way. I'm going to try it. If it works, there will be no more slips."
"I told you that doesn't matter anymore. I don't want to see you, Matthew." She was calm, cold and collected. There were no peeks of emotion through the bond today, only a haze of… detachment. Something about her mental state bothered Matthew, but he didn't have time to ponder it.
"I screwed up big time. I get that, Elle. But I want another chance, and this problem with my telepathy is the only real barrier. I will fix it! So, please, give me another chance! There is nothing between Jenna and I."
"That's true," came the cold reply. Matthew gritted his teeth and was more careful with his phrasing.
"I won't let it happen again!" he snapped back, then lost some of his ferocity with his next words. "I…I wanted it to be you! I wanted it to be you so badly." She sneered at him.
"Next time you should join the Birth Proxy program. You'll get a bit closer to the mark." Matthew closed his eyes in pain and frustration. "Look, Matthew, I don't care if you fix your brain, I don't care if you screw Jenna every day or anyone else for that matter. We are done. We should never have been together."
"No! I don't accept that. I'm going to stop the slips, and I won't cheat on you again, Elle. You are the only one I want! I am going to get you back!" She shook her head and marched on.
They walked in silence for a while as Matthew collected his thoughts again.
"Elle, I mean every word I'm saying. No one here knows me like you do. No one here knows you like I do."
"Those aren't reasons to have a relationship. They don't change who we are, or what you did."
"I was stupid. Elle, I'm so sorry…" She didn't respond, and silence reigned again.
The school came into sight, and Eleni picked up her pace. Matthew spoke in a furious whisper, catching her arm to slow her.
"I'm going to do it, Elle. I'm going to fix my telepathy. When I do, please give me another chance!" Eleni pulled her arm away, and wheeled to face him, and finally he felt her anger and hurt.
"I'll promise you one thing, Matthew Summers: if, while you are trying to get me to come back to you, you are 'stupid' again with someone else, anyone else, then there is no going back for us."
Her vehemence and sneering disdain stopped Matthew and he watched as Eleni crossed the courtyard and entered the school. She had no faith in his ability to meet the demand she had set before him, and recalling his sessions with Jenna, he thought he knew why. Dismayed, and cursing the bond, he slowly turned to leave, ignoring the onlookers who whispered to each other as they watched him go.
The next evening, Matthew sat and stared in frustration at the book in front of him. The process was simple: he needed to program a command into his subconscious that continuously told his brain to not allow telepathic reachings. Once that was accomplished, it would be like a hard-wired habit.
The problem was that the command was usually put in place by another telepath.
It entered a grey area of telepathy. Not exactly mind control, but nonetheless, hobbling a mind in a way that would normally be seen as invasive. Matthew wasn't surprised this information had only been available in the military library. He suspected that his own subconscious had been doing this all these years. In the malleable years of childhood, he could imagine his brain inadvertently pulling in his powers as a coping mechanism. He suspected that his mother's death, and the black hole it had created in his mind, had been powerful enough to cause such a drastic reaction.
Yet, somehow the habit had been undone, and it was difficult to put it back in place. He had to, however.
He was worried about Eleni.
G had been up that afternoon and commented to him that she seemed distant and withdrawn, and Matthew continued to sense a detachment from her through the bond. It reminded him uncomfortably of the feeling of dissolution he had felt from her the summer before. After all the work they had done to help her find stability and a moderately good life, his selfishness had now been the catalyst for undoing it all.
He had to stop the slips, so he could be close to her again and hopefully repair what he had broken.
Over the next few days, he tried again and again to program his own subconscious to no avail. After a week, he threw the book at the wall in a fit of frustration. He never saw Eleni now and he missed her like crazy. Jenna kept coming on to him in spite of his refusals, and their private practice sessions gave her ample opportunity. Nothing was going the way he wanted it to. He collapsed on his bed ready to cry in desperation.
Have faith in the Montagne. Believe in the Magnetist.
He growled at the stupid phrase. The young man who had said it to him has started to appear in his dreams; a solid, calming force, someone he could trust. But that person wasn't around now, and Matthew didn't really care about the Montagne or Magneto's legacy. He angrily pushed the words away.
If he wanted to believe in something, it would be that Eleni would come back to him.
Believe in Eleni.
Eleni. He pulled up a mental image of her; a small smile on her beautiful face, her ever present scarf. She had her arms around him and was looking at him as she sat next to him on the couch at Madam P's. Her intense eyes pierced his and he found he wanted it. Eleni.
Somewhere in that image and that mantra, he found inspiration. He focused on it, relaxed, and found himself in a new spot in his mind. A mental foothold, and it seemed solid. Could it work?
Matthew pivoted in his own mind and began attempting mental surgery on himself.
ERIK
"You may begin, sir." Erik Lensherr nodded and initiated the sequence that would eject an emergency escape plane out into the Wastelands. A few moments later he was done.
"Perfect, sir, as always."
Erik suppressed a grimace. The only escape plane that had launched in his lifetime had ended up a flaming pile of debris. Being perfect on the initiation held little value when that was the only example of completion he knew.
Shaking the thoughts away, he climbed out of the practice module, and his half-sister stepped in behind him. Travis waited to go after her.
As he move away from his family, Erik noticed a figure approaching.
"General Proudstar," he said in response to the man's bow.
"Head Lensherr. We await His Heir in blood and power." Erik gave the requisite nod to acknowledge the profession of loyalty. "I see you are busy. I will be brief."
"That would be good," Erik replied, not looking at the man. "What is it, General?"
"There is word that you have initiated an exercise for the grey strike team. Is this true?"
Erik was still for a moment. Then he stepped forward, nonchalant, and scoffed, "General, you must admit that that rumor is a bit absurd!"
"Well, sir, you were involved in a covert strike operation several years ago…"
"Yes. And we all recall how that ended," he looked back and held the General's gaze. His lips twisted bitterly. There was no need to put on an act for that. "Tell me, General, where did you hear this rumor?"
The man hesitated. Erik waited, holding him in his gaze. He was the liege, the man had to answer a direct question. And Erik would know if he was lying.
"Colonel Browncot, sir." Erik nodded and turned as if the miscellaneous electronics equipment around him were of more interest.
"Ah. Be sure to reassure him, then. I'd hate for the colonel to be losing sleep over such a ridiculous idea." Proudstar didn't move, and out of the corner of his eye Erik thought the man's jaw tightened. The lord, retaining his casual air, turned to face the representative of his military. "And as you are here, I saw on the register that our erstwhile telepath has decided to engage with the military. That is good news."
Proudstar gave a slow, stiff nod. "Indeed, my Lord."
"Is he transferring out of the university program?"
"Not as of yet, sir." Erik took this information in, then nodded dismissively.
"You may go now, General." The man bristled, but Erik simply stood there, again looking away, clearly done with his loyal subject. Finally, there was a grudging salute, and then the man was gone.
A moment later Wanda joined him. Her pale face and blue eyes matched Erik's, but her hair was black to his white. She was of average height, coming up to his chin. They stood in silence.
Wanda's gaze lingered on Travis, who was now in the pod and attempting to initiate the emergency procedure. The military aid there to assist if needed leaned in.
"No, Lord Travis. This is the order."
Erik suppressed a wince, and saw Wanda look away in annoyance. They could have prepped the boy. These training sessions only occurred twice a year.
"We should have run him through it beforehand," Wanda mumbled, echoing his thought. Erik just nodded. "What did Proudstar want?" she asked next. Erik had been waiting for that.
"Hmmm? Oh, that. There is some sort of activity that is being linked back to me." He raised his eyebrows in exaggerated humor. Wanda didn't buy it.
"Erik, you're not trying to be clever again, are you? Remember the last time." The earnest look she gave him next was a complete lie. "I could be a help there."
"No, thank you." He looked straight ahead. "Have you been giving any 'help' to Tracy?"
Wanda's face soured, and she gritted her teeth.
"No."
Erik felt a wave of truth from her and was relieved, even if the atmosphere between them was noticeably colder. If his niece ever got over her disdain of her mother, and did take the woman's offer of help, it would not be good for him. The status quo made no one overly happy, but it suited Erik's purposes.
Standing stiffly, Wanda took a breath, and wrapped her arms around herself. When she spoke, it was a new topic and colored with disgust. "Could you say something to him about his choice of friends?" She thrust her chin towards Travis, who was on his third try at the sequence. Erik remained silent as Wanda's gaze took in her only son. "I mean, even the Summer's boy has smartened up."
Erik hummed.
"I'll think about it. How is Tracy, anyway?" he asked, pushing the topic back a step.
Wanda gave an irritated sigh. "I hear from her when she wants more credit. The military stipend is restrictive as always." Then Wanda shrugged. "She's making her mark."
"Just like her father." Erik ignored the brief glare his sister threw at him at that mention, though Erik hadn't been able to resist the jab. He had shed no tears at his ambitious brother-in-law's death in a bizarre military accident. "Was the DownMountain campaign your idea?"
"No," Wanda replied shortly, looking away.
The uneasy but strangely companionable silence they normally shared returned.
Erik didn't hold his sister's attitude, or her attempts to insert herself into the power structure, against her. On the contrary, he was grateful she was cordial to him: she had never really gotten over being supplanted by her younger half-brother as the future Head.
"The Shaw's have contacted us about the Remembrance," Wanda spoke again into their silence. "They are putting the usual program together."
"That sounds good," Erik replied, "though I don't look forward to donning those robes." Wanda coughed a laugh.
"Mother hated that as well. Though she loved the ceremony." She gave a meaningful glance in Erik's direction.
"Yes. Mother was quite happy with her position. And she liked to let everyone know it."
"She ruled the most powerful society on the planet. Most people would do the same." Erik just nodded to that, but Wanda wouldn't let it go. "Your father enjoyed it as well. He worked hard to get it. You don't even have to work that hard." Erik let the silence after that comment linger. This was a standard conversation for them. "Sometimes I really wonder if he was your father. I don't see how you could be his son." That was unusual.
"If he isn't then Magda played a good joke on him," Erik countered, and Wanda actually cracked a smile, if a bitter one.
Erik's father had been a shrewd man, hungry for power and position. He had wooed the Head successfully and endeared himself to her to the extent that he had managed to negotiate that his progeny would someday receive the Mantle of the Helm in place of Wanda. Magda Lensherr, the Head, had come to regret the youthful fling of which Wanda was evidence, and readily agreed. Wanda's name had been changed to her father's surname of Lee as the final damning sign of the transfer. It had been, perhaps, not the wisest use of the sweeping powers the Lensherr's had at their disposal.
Magda hadn't helped the matter by occasionally musing that fate had compelled her to name her first child Wanda: according to family history – history that wasn't widely shared in the tunnels of the UpMountain - the original Wanda had shunned the ascendancy of the Lensherrs in its infancy.
Travis failed the third try, and Wanda turned away with clear exasperation. She gazed back in the direction Proudstar had departed.
"You could utilize them, Erik. Like mother did," she said quietly, again obliquely offering her help.
"Wanda," Erik replied, a warning in his tone. His sister graced him with her look of disgust, and put her back to him.
He, for his part, had no interest in his sister's presumption of political aptitude. Nor did he have a desire to emulate their mother. The truth was, when he thought of his niece, it was not her similarity to her father that concerned him. It was her similarity to her grandmother.
Travis finally got the sequence correct on the fifth try and came to join them. He said nothing about his performance, and the adults remained silent as well.
"I was going to walk back by the mausoleum," Erik said evenly. As he had hoped, both Wanda and Travis declined to join him.
"Uncle, all respect to our ancestors, but I don't know why you would want to go down there outside of ceremonial times."
Wanda said nothing and graced her brother with another look of disgust before leaving with her son.
Collecting his two-person entourage, Erik took the passage that would lead him into the dim chambers of their past. As he entered the cavern, his shadows stayed by the door per his request. He was the only person who could open the inner entrance, but there was no other exit through which they could lose him.
Upon entering, the first elaborate grave he encountered was the Tomb of the Phoenix. It was strictly a facade – no body lay within. No one really knew what had become of Jean Grey. The power within her had extended her life by nearly two hundred years, and it was said that in the end she had been more entity than human. What was clear, however, were her successes within the Montagne in the wake of the Devastation. Erik was living proof of that.
Next came the Lensherr tomb, and true to his word, Erik did turn towards the stone building and pause. He spared a thought for all those who had come before him, their deeds, their accomplishments, their failures. They were all remembered due to their name, though there were many among them who had little else for which to be memorialized.
Finally, Erik turned away, and approached a small cluster of stones tucked in behind the larger monuments. These were the graves of people who had proven to be utterly loyal to the family or distinguished themselves to the Lensherr's in some other way, and in turn were granted the honor of being laid to rest in the Lensherr shadow.
He paused in front of this group but focused on one grave. It bore no name. It was marked by a stone in the shape of a heart, with motifs on it that matched his pocket watch. Erik gazed at the stone for a long moment, then closed his eyes in apparent meditation.
Moments later he was leaving to spend the rest of the afternoon in fencing practice.
CITADEL 3021.01.20
DAVE
"So, what's the plan?" Dave took in the short man standing in front of him: he was shifting back and forth from one foot to the other, clearly nervous. His eyes, however, were intent, and hopeful, if wary.
"Well, these meetings will happen regularly to keep a pulse on the population," Dave responded, trying to sound as confident and authoritative as possible. "Meanwhile, Sahira and I are drafting legislation."
"Legislation?! You think, you think we actually have a chance of something being made into law?"
"There's a provision in the charter allowing for a city-wide vote initiated from a sufficiently large segment of the population." The man's face fell.
"So, we need a lot of people." Dave waved his head back and forth, negating the man's dismay.
"I really think we might have it. When I started on this cause, I had no idea of how many people are feeling the pain of the brutal methods our city utilizes. But what I have learned has surpassed my expectations. And to ignite such pain in so many good people, I can't believe they are abominations!" His companion's eyes flashed with pain and anger as Dave spoke and the man nodded curtly.
"That's right! They are killing God's innocent children I don't care what they say about it! I trust you, young man. We at least have to try!" The man shook his hand and turned to go.
Dave took a moment to get a drink of water, taking energy from the man's vehemence. It helped, and he felt both his focus and confidence solidify. Eleni's birthday had just past, and the additional reminder of her absence had sent him low. He had hoped this meeting tonight would help pull him out of his despondency.
They were in the basement of the temple in Bloc 7, and it was the first open, though secret, meeting they had held for people interested in the push for mutant amnesty. Natal stood by the doorway, and only let people in that he recognized. Through Sahira he was fairly familiar with the population they were meeting. If there was someone he didn't know he said them it was a private affair, took their name and information, and told them they would be contacted in the near future.
Dave had wanted something more open, but Sahira and Natal had refused. The goal, his fellow law student had argued, was to provide an opportunity for people to see that they were not alone in their support, to ask questions about the plan, and to make suggestions, not to widen their audience. Allowing unvetted people in was simply too dangerous. Dave had acceded, reluctantly.
Taking a deep breath, he managed a smile and inwardly forced up feelings of purpose and determination as a he was again approached.
"So, you're Robert Kelly's boy. I've been watching you from across the room, and you carry yourself very well. You're going to go a long way, son, just like your dad, I can see it." Dave smiled and demurred slightly to the middle-aged woman. His father's popularity had been mentioned several times already this evening, mostly in praise. It was no surprise, as Robert Kelly was in his third term as a senator. "Not sure he would support this proposal, however." The woman peered closely at him, waiting for his response.
"You know that his main focus has been on broadening the freedoms of our citizens." The woman nodded. "I don't think this is that far a step away from those efforts. The freedom to keep your own children."
"But a far more dangerous step. The hawks aren't going to like it," she countered. Dave took a breath in and nodded his acknowledgement. He and Sahira had started to debate this topic as well: the military had protected the Citadel, kept it viable and made it strong over the centuries. What they were proposing, however, was in direct conflict with that organization's current directive.
"I believe understanding and management is the key. Not all mutants are born with powers that are a threat. Most are not. Many of them could help us."
"Like the weirdo Greenies want," the woman again challenged him, and Dave had to think fast. The Green party, a smaller political group, had the audacity to suggest raising mutants until their powers manifested, and 'making use' of those who could help heal the planet. They somehow ignored the fact that one of the central tenants of the Citadel's charter was a complete rejection of slavery.
"Not slavery. No, I would never sanction that. But, I believe there is a way we can all live together. There is a lot we need to learn, but killing our children is not the way to do that." The woman nodded.
"You'll have to proceed carefully. Can you give me any details?" As Dave responded to the question, the woman listened intently, and made some pertinent suggestions. After a few minutes, she shook his hand.
"If you go into politics like your father, you are on your way to winning my vote as well." Inwardly, Dave glowed with pleasure, further staving off the depressive feelings that simmered underneath.
"Thank you, ma'am."
The two hours they had allotted wound down, and Dave shook hands with his final conversation partner.
"A rally!" the man hissed. "We need a rally to gather more interest!"
As the man walked away, Dave felt a surge of satisfaction. Seven people had suggested doing a rally that night, providing him numbers he could use in his arguments to loosen the security on these events. He nodded his head in determined satisfaction.
Natal went to lock the door to the outside as Dave and Sahira started cleaning up the refreshments they had brought. Sahira looked thoughtful as she collected cups.
"That went well. A lot of good questions. Some new things we need to think about," she commented.
"Agreed. We'll both have notes ready next time we meet?" Sahira nodded, confirming the plan they had made ahead of time.
Natal returned. Seeing an opportunity, Dave purposely joined the man in clearing a different table.
Natal's glare at the holiday party had given Dave a guess as to the reason for his peer's standoffish attitude, and Sahira had confirmed his suspicion. He had waited to bring the issue up with Natal, wanting to do it in private. This situation was as private as they were going to get.
Stacking cups while Natal collected plates, Dave spoke softly.
"I never subscribed to their beliefs," he said. "It was a chance to get to know Corella, and-"
"Sahira told me," Natal cut him off. Dave paused.
"Then you know that it was all for show."
"I just don't understand how you could have stood being around people like that. And now you are fighting for mutants? It still doesn't sit right with me."
"It didn't feel right, but," Dave grasped for words. Setting aside the fact that his relationship with Corella had been a lie, there had been value there, "they are people just like us. And we live together in this small, enclosed space. We need to know them at the least, and hopefully live productively with them."
"When they want to kill us?!" Natal burst out. Dave rocked back in surprise, as Natal collected himself. "They condemn everyone they can come up with an excuse for," he clarified, then he gestured at Dave's head. "You have blond hair. That's rare enough, it might be a mutation. Why don't they put you on the kill list? They are going to fight your dream tooth and nail! And you were with one of them!"
Dave gritted his teeth at the truth.
"But we will never help them see differently if we refuse to engage with them!"
"All they do is regurgitate their poison!"
"And maybe they feel the same way about people who think differently! It takes two to tango."
"Are you saying we are wrong? And you are leading us?"
"No. But I am saying if we don't try to understand why they do what they do, things will only get worse. Think about it. There is some danger from some mutants. I mean, look at me and tell me that if you heard that a magnetist was on the streets, it wouldn't freeze your blood." Natal drew up straight at that suggestion, and Dave knew the man agreed. "But history tells us that there have been some pretty dangerous non-mutants as well, and in most cases, it comes down to the person, not what random abilities they were born with. We just need to work through it! And hopefully we can get them to see that as well, but it won't happen if we are not talking to them!"
"They won't talk to us except to preach their scripture."
"That doesn't mean we don't give them the opportunity. That we don't try to engage them!"
Natal looked to the side and shook his head.
"I don't think you understand, Kelly, what it is really like to be one of the ones they hate. I've met with far more people in the Network than you. I've talked to Sahi about what happened to her brother and how her family felt afterward." He looked back at Dave. "It's scary."
Dave found himself on the back foot and searched for a way to mitigate his peer's intransigence. But even as he clung to his mission for middle-ground his memory whispered that he understood exactly where Natal was coming from.
The massive stone building reminded him of a tomb; the graceful architecture and stained-glass windows that were supposed to make it beautiful instead turned it into a haunted scene bathed in a lurid glow. It was difficult to breath, and he knew it wasn't only because of the warm weather outside that had turned the stone building into an oven.
It was August, and he had finally been cornered into joining Corella at church. He was distinctly uncomfortable and found himself wondering how things had come to this moment. Glancing at his girlfriend, hair pulled back and dressed in her somber Sunday best, he felt guilty. Then he glanced around the church, and only knew that he wanted to leave even though the sermon had yet to begin.
While most of the stained glass windows portrayed gentle scenes of featuring the Savoir or the Mother, in various acts of goodness, his eyes were drawn to an alcove at the side, where rows of candles stood trapped within a horrific triptych: a woman, clutching a child, being cast out of a house while a man and a woman, arms around each other, and a group of children stood safely inside; two men, and then two women, embracing, and being burned alive for it; a mutant, twisted and wretched, literally preying upon innocent non-mutant humans, backed by the Father of the Demonspawn as they called him, the infamous magnetist, Erik Lensherr himself, pictured with a dark helm and cape, as he destroyed the world.
"There is much good here!" He felt Corella squeeze his hand. She looked up at him earnestly, and he saw her eyes flickered to the same alcove. "But there are some things we can never forget." She added quietly and with a deep breath. Giving him one more glance of encouragement, she looked forward as the service began.
Dave mumbled his way through.
"We seek only his forgiveness."
The sermon, on the topic of children stricken with illness, was bearable.
"We must do what we can to make their lives bright."
The rote cannon, echoed through hundreds of voices, made him choke.
"…one man and one woman, most blessed when joined in a union under the Human Christ, and the children they bear together. All else is filth."
By the end he was feeling physically ill. Corella looked at him with concern, and at first he didn't even try to act his way through. Then he recalled he'd agreed to join the family for lunch after the service and mustered a weak smile.
"An inspiring sermon, Dad," Corella praised her father at the table.
"Thank you." The man nodded graciously, then cast an evaluating eye at Dave. Had Corella influenced her father on the topic of the sermon to make the experience easier on him? He didn't think it had helped.
"What did you think, Dave?" He didn't want to make a scene.
"It was very…powerful," he hedged. "To be honest I found it a bit overwhelming."
The pastor nodded sagely. "Thank you for your honesty. It is well to be humbled by God. You are starting to feel His Glory." Dave knew that this god's glory was the last thing he ever wanted to feel.
"The candles, what are they for?"
"Well," Corella began softly, "so long as humanity fails in its repentance, the Father will continue to visit His displeasure upon us. Yet, we do not completely abandon those who fall outside of His Blessing." So, they lit candles for the ones they condemned to make themselves feel better. How quaint.
Dave couldn't leave the house fast enough after the luncheon. It wasn't until he was outside the penthouse building that he realized he'd instinctively gone back to his father's instead of his mother's. Not able to bring himself to enter, but not wanting to go to his mother's townhouse yet, he walked to his father's office building.
The security guard turned him away: his father wasn't there that day. He was taking one of his rare days off. That meant that Eleni and her mother both had the day off as well. Dave left the building and started walking the city.
He went from park to park, as many as he could, and scanned the crowds. The heat of the day had pushed much of the population outside. Kids played in fountains, and picnics abounded, but none with the people he wanted to see. Tears pressed at his eyes, and late in the afternoon, hungry and sad, he finally returned to his mother's townhouse.
"Dave, where have you been?" He scrubbed his eyes clear.
"Just walking. I needed to think after…you know." His mother looked at him sympathetically.
"She is a lovely young woman, but that branch of the religion is...intense." She cocked her head. "I suspect that Corella herself is not so rigid in her belief, however. There may be hope that you two will find a future together." He stared at his mother for a moment wondering at how completely oblivious to the real situation she was. Through no fault of her own, of course. If she knew the truth, she'd probably disown him.
"Yeah, maybe," he mumbled, and forgetting about food again, went upstairs.
There, he finally cried. He cried at the fact that he had betrayed so much that he believed in that morning and all for a stupid stunt. He cried in self-hatred that he had just sat there and listened while three people he loved dearly were repeatedly and violently condemned. He cried because he missed Eleni desperately and he was afraid that, this time, he had gone too far and hurt her beyond repair.
The memory gutted Dave, bringing him low again. The thin arguments he had come up with disintegrated.
"We have nothing to fear, but fear itself," he found his lips saying mechanically, though inwardly he cringed. Natal's lips twisted in disgust.
"You just keep telling yourself it's that simple," the man said. His eyes hardened. "Have you even thought, really thought, about what it would be like for mutants in this city?"
This time Dave was ready, though not with an answer.
"Oh, so you think it is better we stand back and let them be murdered?" he demanded in return. Natal shook his head, his disgust thickening. Eyes on each other, they simply stood for a moment in stalemate.
Dave didn't like where the argument had led. Looking for a way out, he reached back to its start.
"I dated one of them, but I am not one of them. At the least, give me a chance to prove that."
Natal's eyes flashed a glance in Sahira's direction.
"OK. Sure. And maybe I can bring you to see how little you know." They shook hands, stiffly, and turned away from each other. Across the room, Sahira turned back to cleaning.
Inwardly seeking to distance himself from the argument and his memory, Dave joined her as Natal left the room to do something else. Thankfully, Sahira didn't mention the exchange. A short while later, they were ascending a staircase ladened with bags of dishes, utensils and trash. They exited on the ground floor and traversed the darkened heart of the temple to get to the side exit. It was an eerie scene with streetlights distorted through the sparse windows then scattered about the room reflected off a multitude of metal decorations like hundreds of ghost spirits held in suspension. Dave shivered and felt his efforts to stave off despair weaken.
Sahira led him to the side of the shadowy room and out into the short hall that led to the exit. Natal came into view as a dark shape in front of the door and, after a moment, Dave realized that someone was with him as one shadowy form separated into two. Sahira glanced at Dave sideways.
Dave breathed out his surprise, but otherwise made no reaction one way or another. He understood Natal, and their argument, better now; beyond that it wasn't really any of his business. Anyway, he wasn't in a state where he could expend excess emotional capital.
"This is Eresh." Natal made a brief introduction when he and Sahira reached the couple. Dave reached out and shook the new man's hand. He had a narrow face and a shy quality about him. In the dim light it was difficult to discern more than that.
"It's nice to meet you." Dave faked a yawn. "I'm exhausted. It's been a long night."
He waved his goodbyes and walked out on to the street as the others locked the doors behind him.