Chapter 8: Luxury

Chapter 8: Luxury

He waited, expectant, as his father lifted the food to his mouth. Clamping his hands in his lap, trying desperately not to squirm, he was the embodiment of self-control. His ice-blue eyes were wide as his father chewed and swallowed, then looked up at his son and said…

"I haven't slept that well in weeks…" Jason snuggled down deeper into the pillow, feeling the warmth of Mitad's back against his.

"I always wondered what luxury felt like…" She sighed, content.

Solid bars of light crept up the walls, slowly invading the guestroom.

"I am contemplating getting up… Do me a favor and stop me."

Mitad smiled, "Well… We can sit here and bask in our own laziness, or we can go find out what that heavenly smell is emanating from the kitchen…"

"Ooooooohhh… All these complicated decisions…" Jason groaned into the pillow, "Just give me five more minutes?"

Mitad turned, wrapping her arms around the only person in her life she loved enough to trust, "Gladly."

Jason tried not to think about it, and, as always, he failed miserably. There were shadows dancing in the back of his head, undulating. He tried to ignore them, failing that, he tried to block his thoughts from Mitad.

She shared with him everything he'd ever done, including his pain, he could hurt her just by thinking about it. But that thought couldn't stop the memories from invading… sometimes it seemed to him that, no matter what he tried, they would never run long enough or fast enough to get away from everything they'd already done.

"Hey… You still there, spaceboy?" Mitad chided gently, "Anything you want to talk about?" She knew that he didn't, obviously, otherwise his mind wouldn't be the mental equivalent of Fort Knox. Still, she wanted him to know that she was there for him.

"Feel like breakfast now?" Jason asked abruptly.

"Sure…" Simultaneously, they rose, creeping over to the door with no more sound then the shadows that tickled their ankles across the floor.

{That smells so good…}

{This is the sound of no one disagreeing with you…}

"—So where should we go?"

"I'm not sure… Maybe down—Good morning!" Logan interrupted his conversation with Max to fix the two children with an intelligent, blue-eyed stare, "Sleep well?"

"Yes, thank-you." Mitad responded graciously.

"In the mood for breakfast?" Max asked, anticipating their answer and heading towards a cabinet.

"Definitely…" Jason murmured, seating himself at the kitchen table, Mitad clambering onto the chair beside him.

"So…" Max began, after retrieving the plates, "What—?" the question halted, unformed, on her lips. Her mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments.

How could I have missed that?

Logan's brow furrowed, "What's wrong?"

"Where's the barcode?" Max demanded, putting the plates down on the island, "Where is your barcode?" She asked, more heatedly then before.

"Huh? Oh. That." Mitad responded, just as Jason began pulling down the neck of his shirt, "They wanted us to be able to fit in easily… You know, not have to wear turtlenecks during the dog days of summer if we're out in the field. Rather stupid of them… Especially after the '09 escape. But that's what they wanted…" With Mitad's help, Jason finally got the recalcitrant shirt to display a circular mark just under the base of his neck.

Whipping off his glasses, Logan wheeled closer to the two children. After a moment's scrutiny, he turned to Max, locking eyes.

"Why's it circular?" Max asked, venturing closer for a better look.

Mitad shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine…"

Max placed one hand on Jason's left shoulder, the other she used to hold down the collar. It was a circular barcode, about the size of a silver dollar, on the outside perimeter the numerals marched around. In the center, there was a geometric design which defied Max's logic.

"Why the pretty picture?" She asked.

"It's an identifier." Mitad responded easily, "We each have unique ones… Different quadrants contain different information if you know how to read them… But we don't know how. Everyone who knew that was outside…"

There was a significant pause before Logan asked the same question on Max's lips, "Outside where?"

"Just outside." Mitad responded, moving to remove Max's hands from around Jason's neck, "You're starting to hurt him…" She whispered.

"Sorry." Responded Max, who caught a last glance of the scar tissue that crept over his collar bone, "You said you had the same advantages as X-5's… Then why's he got the scars?"

At this, Jason smiled rakishly, "That was MY idea… When we both got burned—well, Mitad heals faster 'n me… So, she was almost completely done, and I had this," he gestured to his face, "And I decided to keep it—after all, they're going to be looking for someone who can survive forty-foot falls… Not a boy who's been through a terrible accident."

"How?"

"How what?" Mitad asked, acutely aware of her stomach growling.

"How do you stop it?"

"It had to do with our extra… features…. Healing has a lot to do with state of mind…" Jason would have gone into the fact that speeding up healing was his specialty and that there was this section of the brain that, if you manipulated it just right, it could repair almost anything in your body. And he could have told them how he fed it levels of different chemicals—but it was simply to early in the morning to delve into it. Besides, it took all the mystery out of it when you offered a scientific explanation, and science didn't get as much unconditional respect as his abilities did, anyway, "So I just shut that part of my head down for a while." Jason shrugged, "If I get hurt really bad again, the scar will disappear with my other injuries, but until then, I heal like a normal person."

Mitad smiled, her eyes glittering, "It's really cool!" She looked down at the table, "I mean… in a little way… He gets to be normal…" She caught Max's eye, "Just for a little bit."

Logan caught the look in Max's eyes, "Enough talk for now, weren't we discussing breakfast?"

Slowly, Max picked up the plates and deposited them on the table.

"I have a friend coming over soon," Logan began, once Mitad and Jason were almost finished eating their share of pancakes, "He'll be bringing you some clothes… Nothing fancy, just so you have something to wear while we shop."

Mitad lifted her head away from her plate, wiping syrup from her cheeks, "His name… It wouldn't happen to be… Bling, would it?"

"Lucky guess?" Logan asked blithely.

"You could say that…" Mitad muttered, but she looked perturbed.

{You know,} Jason began, {We can stop trying to impress them with the dog and pony show…}

{I know that,} Mitad responded, {That's what's bugging me, I wasn't trying to do it.}

Jason frowned into his plate, but after a moment, his expression brightened, "Hey, that was really good! I think I like strawberries…"

"Never had them before?" Max asked.

"You remember how it is," Mitad answered her, "It's army rations. Nothing torturous… But no variety. Other then apples and oranges, we only read about most fruits before we got outside."

Max's lips twitched upward in what was either the beginnings of a smile or a grimace of recognition.

Logan opened his mouth to divert the subject matter yet again when the doorbell rang, "You get it, Logan, I'll clean up." Max began picking the plates up off the table.

"Sure." Logan tried to catch her eye as he smiled his thanks, but she kept her eyes on her work. Sighing, he wheeled towards the door.

Opening it, he found a stack of groceries at least three times as tall as he was in his chair.

A stack of groceries that spoke: "Hey, man, sorry about ringing the bell, but I couldn't exactly manage all of these and a key."

"Bling?"

Bling's head poked out from behind all the packages, "Who else?"

Shaking his head in wonderment, Logan held out his hands, "Here, give me those… It'll be good exercise."

"Thanks, man." Bling dumped two of the bags on Logan's lap, "So, what is it I smell?"

Logan smiled, his blue eyes crinkling, "Let me guess… You haven't had breakfast?"

Bling grinned, juggling the bags he held into a more comfortable position, "Sometimes, Logan, I think you're psychic—"