Behind Velvet Curtains
Sera blinked her eyes carefully. She felt like she had just run the Boston marathon. Or possibly as if she'd been used as a great, big battery. She couldn't recall ever feeling this tired in years. Possibly ever. Hell, maybe she was dead. God knew the light in this place was bright enough to be the one people were always talking about. Groaning, she tired to bury her head under her arm and go back to sleep.
A large hand gently took hold of her arm, completely removing the option of movement. "I really must protest," said a voice that was almost familiar. "We have been postponing our completely justifiable curiosity about you and your friend until one of you, preferably you, rejoined the waking world. Now that you have reemerged, there are a great many questions we have your abilities, as well as what the two of you are doing in our domicile."
She stared up at the speaker. Large, blue, furry; it was almost a relief to know that she hadn't dreamed that.
"Y'know," was her reply, "a simple 'we've got some questions' would have sufficed there."
The blue guy grinned. "Yes, but this is ever so much fun." He turned to the man next to him, handsome, in an older, balder kind of a way. "Charles, I believe you have some questions?'
Charles? This must be the Professor Xavier who's articles she had read. She struggled to sit up. "Professor Xavier, she managed, I'm sorry to have intruded."
There was a bark of laughter at that. The man from last night, the one who seemed to catch her a lot, had laughed. Sort of. In the light, she could see him better, but remembering the night before and her strange reaction, she decided it would be better not to look at him.
Xavier ignored the disruption. "As to that, why did you choose her and not a hospital for your friend? Injuries so severe, perhaps an emergency room...?" His voice trailed off, politely begging for an explanation.
Well, she would do her best. "I'd read about you, you see," she began and then told the story from the beginning. How Terry had been beaten for being a mutant, how Sera was scared the parents would come looking for them and how, given the girl's mutations, she wasn't sure how a hospital would receive them.
"Interesting," murmured the blue man, "but none of this addresses my questions about how you were able to keep a girl with injuries so severe stable for so long or how you were able, once here, to heal so much of the damage. For that matter," and here he looked rueful, "how you were able to get past me and to her last night."
Sera stared at the unfamiliar faces, still being careful to avoid eye contact with the one guy. This was it, do or, well, probably not die, but wish to, time. "I guess I'm a mutant," she began slowly. "I never thought of myself as one, growing up. Still don't really, for that matter. The women in my family, we're all like this, have been for generations."
"Generations!" exclaimed Blue.
"Yeah, at least my great-grandma, maybe earlier. Generations."
"And what is the nature of your powers?" asked Xavier, plainly also fascinated. What was the big deal here? Weren't these people all mutants?
"I, well, we, really, can heal people. We're healers. Wise women. Always have been. But it's more than that. I can, well, I guess you would say I'm an empath. I can feel other people's emotions, can project my own on to them. That's how I made you think I had a right to see Terry, that I was her doctor. It was what you wanted to think. And, and I can take pain from people. I mean, it hurts, cause the only way I can do it is to take their pain into me, but at least it means that they don't feel it anymore. Sometimes it's all you can do for a person. Like last night, I had to take Terry's. It was the only thing I could do. Only I'd been taking it so long, and I'm so out of practice, that when I tried healing, I must have run out of energy. Never happened before."
She looked at Xavier and when she spoke again, the bitterness in her voice was obvious, even to her.
"You're wondering why I let it get this bad, why I let it come to this. If Terry was my student and my friend, like I say, why did I let this happen? I had no proof. Terry, she's fourteen years old. You have any idea of Family Services backlog or how hard it is to place a kid Terry's age? She'd have to be hurt... well, as badly hurt as she was last night, for them to consider the case. It's a rotten world. That's why I brought her here. You people, you care, you can help her. Terry's powers, they scare her, I could tell that. She doesn't know how to control them. And its nothing I can show her, I'm an English teacher, damn it, I wouldn't know what to do anyway. Hers and mine, they're way too different. But you, Professor, I read you take kids in, kids like Terry. Please, can you help us, help her?"
The conversation had exhausted her and she slumped back against her pillow. There was nothing more she could say and it didn't seem right to try and sway anyone's emotions now. This was a decision that Xavier, and who ever else he consulted with, needed to make on their own.
"I must think on this," said the professor gravely. He turned his wheelchair and began to push himself towards the door. Before he left, he turned to look at her and Sera could feel the sharp tang of his interest in her. "Meanwhile, you should rest. Your trails have exhausted you, Dr. McCoy tells me."
"And I," said Blue, who, by default, had to be the doctor, "will be checking on your Terry, who is currently getting some much needed rest. I am sure, however, that once she awakens, you will be the first person she will want to see." He bounded into a curtained corner of the room, where hospital-show like beeps and bleeps were coming from.
This left short, dark and growly. Sera tuned her head to face him, still cautious on the whole eye-contact thing. "Okay, so Xavier I've seen pictures of and that other one is a Dr. McCoy. Who are you?"
The man grinned. It only made him look slightly less intimidating. "Ain't you the polite one? Folks here call me Wolverine, darlin'. The kid," and he jerked his head at the curtain, "called you Jay. That your name?"
"Only if you're one of my students. No, it's Serendipity Jannhanson. Sera will do, anything else is a pain to say."
"Serendipity? Hell of a name."
"Beats Wolverine," she retorted and that barking laugh came again.
"You ain't scared of me, are ya?"
"What, I should be?" Except that I looked in your eyes last night and dropped straight into La-La Land, which is more than a little freaky. Nope, not scared. Lets just hang on to the thought that I was way tired last night and that the whole collapsing thing had nothing to do with you whatsoever. Reality is getting just a little too surreal.
It was then that Sera noticed that she was feeling curious... suspicious... predatory... She shook her head. Twenty eight years in her own mind, she knew what feeling were hers and which weren't. These were Wolverine's and she sure didn't want them. Carefully, she added some more depths to her mental shields, looking to block whatever she was picking up. The walls in her mind grew thicker, but the emotions stayed put, maybe a little fainter, but not enough to matter. This was ridiculous, she'd always been able to shield; she'd have gone nuts years ago if she hadn't been able to. She shifted her body, felt the flair of his interest, almost like he was inside her shields.
"What are you?" she muttered, looking anywhere but his eyes. Vaguely, she was aware that she had just switched the topic of conversation but she had frankly forgotten whatever it was they were talking about. "What are you?"
"Mutant, same as you."
"Same same? Like, you can project feelings and stuff?" Okay, that would explain it, if he were like her. She had never met anyone like her, who wasn't family. And female.
"Nothing like that, darlin'. I got me different senses, stronger than regular people's, more like an animal. It's how I could find you in that storm from hell last night. And I can heal fast, but just me. Can't do other people, like it looks like you can."
"So, not like me," Sera muttered. She could still feel him. She interested him and not like the professor's interest. Way more personal. What the hell was going on?
Since she was being so careful to not look at his eyes directly, that gave her a chance to stare at the rest of him. If he was going to be so fascinated by her, curious as well as almost totally without trust, she might as well return the favor. Her first impression hadn't been wrong. He was short, maybe not even that much taller than her. The height was belied by the fact that he was built. No fat on this man, just muscle and a lot of it. The hair, now that it had dried from the rain, was dark, thick and wild, standing up on his head like a wolf's ears. She shook her head. And people say I have no style, she muttered to herself. And yet, and yet... the look worked for him. She couldn't imagine him looking tame, or controllable in anyway. He practically radiated threat. He was, quite simply, unlike anyone she had ever met before.
No one could ever accuse Sera of being great at thinking a plan through. She was really much more a leap before you look person. And with that behavior so firmly ingrained into her mindset, she raised her eyes to look into Wolverine's, trying to figure out his presence in her mind.
She was expecting almost anything. Except what happened, which was to be totally sucked into the man.
The emotions were so strong that they were words, pictures. It was like nothing Sera had ever experienced before. She felt totally lost in this man's eyes; the world had vanished from around her, leaving only him.
Old feels much older than he looks how old
confusion rue beats me kid
surprise you can feel me understand me how
humor tinged with something bitter you're asking me bad choice
confusion stronger now mixed with something almost like fear so dark here
anger embarrassment I ain't led what you call a blameless life kid
annoyance not a kid fascination light here too so many contradictions
flair of hope the rise of a question yeah
assent agreement yeah not all dark confusion now again missing pieces
anger but not at her darkness swirls guess you can't see what I can't
more confusion missing mental hand reaches out fix question hope
negation can't fix what's gone darlin' no healing here
sorrow insistence want to help
refusal drawing away anger my mind girl
"My mind, girl!" Wolverine growled, and he broke away from her eyes. He couldn't help noticing she looked spooked now, those eyes that he was learning real fast not to trust were wide open but unfocused. He thought she looked both confused and embarrassed but he didn't really care. Despite the fact that he had lived with telepaths for years now, not one of them have had the gall to crawl around in his head like that. What was up with the woman? Did she do that to the others? "What the hell was that?" he finally snarled at her.
Sera rubbed her head, messing up her already wild hair. "I don't know," she answered finally. "Never had anything like that happen before."
She was being careful to look anywhere but at him, he noticed. Bummer she hadn't been that careful a few minutes ago. He growled, at a loss for words, actions and pretty much anything else. No doubt about it, he was starting to really regret ever bringing her into the mansion. And yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to leave. He told himself that it's because he didn't trust her- and he really didn't now, not after that little trick she just pulled- but he knew he was kidding himself when he told himself that was the only reason he was staying. He growled again, more frustrated than he remembered being in a long time.
To his surprise, she growled back at him. It wasn't a good growl; in fact, it sounded pretty damn weak, but it was a growl. Surprised, he looked at her face. She was snarling, her lips curled back over her teeth, eyes crinkled tight in a glare.
"What are ya doing?" he questioned, trying real hard not to laugh.
She shrugged, and her natural grin replaced the snarl. "When in Rome..." she began.
"Yeah? Well, you ain't real good at being in Rome."
"Yeah? Well, quit snarling at me and I won't have to snarl back. I told you, I have no bloody idea what happened. You think I want a tour of your brain?"
"I don't know what they hell you want!" Wolverine sounded feral even to himself and knew he couldn't stay down here any longer. She was driving him crazy. Snarling again, he surged to his feet, shoving the chair back as he did. It clattered noisily for a second and then was still. Sera was still watching him with her wide eyes, her body perfectly still. He could smell fear on her, and was glad of it. It was better this way, he was sure of it. With a final growl at her, he stalked from the room.
Only his enhanced sense of hearing allowed him to hear her whispered words after she left the room, I didn't mean to scare you. He kept back a roar of anger with difficulty. He was not scared of her! Cursing to himself and wishing he had never stepped one foot out of the mansion last night, he stalked up to his room. With luck and a long enough shower, he wouldn't smell her damn cinnamon and rain on his skin anymore.
Sera actually found herself growling even after the man who called himself Wolverine had left the room. Obviously, he really brought out the best in her. But she had never been so confused in her life and frankly, she couldn't even quite tell if the confusion was hers, his, or some weird mix of both of them. Being near him was electrifying and exhausting and just plain scary. She really didn't know what she was feeling here but she had a pretty damn good idea it was going to screw up her life.
"I see your self-appointed bodyguard has removed himself."
Sera pulled herself out of her thoughts and turned to smile up at the doctor. "Yeah, I don't think we're off to a real stellar start there. He always that touchy?"
"That would be an accurate description of Wolverine, yes. For all that, however, he's a good man." McCoy leaned down and checked her sensors. "You appear to be recovering from your exhaustion quite well, young lady. I think that we can get these off you in a reasonable amount of time."
"That's great. How's Terry?"
"Sleeping still. Its not an uncommon reaction to stress and it certainly sounds as though she has had more than her fair share."
"Yeah, she sure has. Can I see her?"
McCoy looked thoughtful. "Yes, I do believe so. However, you won't want those medical pads attached to you when you move. If you wish, I can give you a moment of privacy in which to remove them and then I shall whisk you off to your young friend." He bowed gallantly and she was startled into a laugh. He grinned at her- really, he was a very nice man, once you got past blue and fuzzy- and left the room, adding that he would return as soon as she called him.
That left Sera along with the sticky little medical pads attached to her. Gritting her teeth, she yanked them off her body one by one. Damn glue. That hurt! Finally she had pried them off her body. She supposed she ought to be thankful that they had just been put on her under her regular clothes and that she hadn't wound up in one of those awful little hospital gowns. Although that may have been because they didn't have any of those things here; as everyone had taken great pains to tell her that this wasn't a hospital. She called out to McCoy that she was set and he came bounding back in to the room.
"Excellent, my dear. I have brought you a wheeled transport to aid your viewing." With a flourish, he pushed the object towards her and she laughed again. It was an office chair, one of those little wheeled ones. "Allow me," he continued and before she had said another word, he had scooped her out of the bed and plopped her into the chair. "This way, Miss Jannhanson," he caroled as he pushed her to Terry's bedside.
There the levity stopped. Terry still looked like crap. Her face was multicolored from the bruises and there was still some dried blood on her arms and legs. She wore only her baggy t-shirt and Sera could see near every bruise. "Oh, man, kid," she whispered, staring. "Oh, baby, I am so sorry."
"Surely it was not your fault," interjected McCoy.
"Yeah? I could have stopped it. Wasn't like I didn't know."
"You gave your reasons to Charles and they were factual ones. You had no real evidence of the abuse and without it, nothing was likely to happen."
"I let her down."
"You saved her," he corrected.
"Not yet," she muttered grimly. "You keep medical records?"
"Of course," McCoy answered, sounding almost insulted that she had to ask.
"And they say how she was last night, when we came in?"
"In detail. I am a professional."
"Great, Now, you got a camera in this place?"
"And why would we need that?"
"Proof," was her reply and he couldn't argue with that. He bounded off, on a hunt for the Polaroid he was sure was in the mansion somewhere. Left alone with the battered and bruised Terry, Sera swore to herself that this was the last time anyone was ever going to hurt the girl.
It was while the doctor was gone that Terry finally woke up. "Jay?"
"I'm here, hon."
"Where are we? Are we at that place you told me about? The one where we'd be safe?" Terry was trying to sit up but Terry pressed her back down onto the bed.
"We are. I think everything's going to be okay now. They haven't said for sure that you can stay, but I don't think they'll turn you away."
"What is this place?"
"It's like a boarding school for mutants," was Sera's reply and she could feel a surge of denial from Terry as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
"I'm not like that!"
Sera shook her head. "Terry, you know that's not true. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone here is a mutant, so far as I know."
"Last night... you said you were too."
The older woman looked away but only for a second. "Yeah. I am, too. Only difference between you and me, kid, is that I know how to use my powers and you still need to be taught."
"You can't teach me?"
"Not this stuff, no. Plus, I think it's a little too risky, keeping you that near your folks."
Terry was silent, one hand twining around a lock of her chocolate colored hair. "Yeah, guess you're right." she said finally and she looked so young and so lost that Sera reached out, untangled the hair from the girl's fingers and took her hand.
"I'll do what I can to make it easier," she promised.
It was late at night and Sera had finally gotten the doctor- he told her to call him Hank- to let her go and get something to eat. He would, he explained, come with her. Terry was sleeping, again, and he was sure that she would be all right without him for the moment. Plus, Sera needed someone to show her around the mansion or she would never find the kitchen.
Sera was surprised by how much she found herself liking the good natured man. For all his imposing looks and size, he seemed the soul of gentleness and kindness. During the day, he had helped her with the work needed to report what had happened to Sera and to document the evidence. They were hopeful that Terry could be removed from her parents' care and placed somewhere more suitable. In the meantime, Hank was very sure Xavier would allow the girl to stay. There was always room for another student.
Talking softly, they walked into the kitchen together. While Hank made her a sandwich, she looked through the fridge for something to drink. There were several bottles of beer there, not a cheap brand either, and Sera suddenly thought there was nothing in the world that she wanted more in the world than a cold one. She grabbed it, twisted the cap off and took a long swig. Turning, she caught Hank staring at her, a funny look on her face.
"Okay, what'd I do?"
Hank looked very much like he was trying not to laugh. "Nothing very much. Only, you see, those are Wolverine's beers and he might be called particular about them."
"Oh, crap," she muttered, staring at the bottle like it was rat poison. "And we were off to such a good start."
Hank laughed then, a rolling guffaw.
"Ah, well," she continued, "begin as you mean to go on." And with that, she took another long swig.
She was on her third beer and feeling a lot better when Wolverine stalked into the kitchen. He was pissed already, she could feel it rolling through her mind like dark waves, anger so alien to any kind she had ever felt that she knew immediately it could not be hers. Forcing a grin as she saw Hank try to make himself small and unnoticeable- yeah, that'll work- in a corner, she put her feet up on the kitchen table and took another drink from the bottle.
All Wolverine had wanted was a midnight snack. He had spent what seemed like half the day in the Danger Room, trying to rid himself of the rage inspired by Sera's little trip through his mind. It was not, he kept repeating himself, fear. Or any emotion but anger. The woman was like an emotional sneak thief, creeping through people's brains like that. He just wanted some peace and quiet and a beer or twelve now, and then he was going to bed.
Twenty feet from the kitchen, he stopped dead and inhaled. Cinnamon and rain. His ears, now that he was paying attention, picked up on the rumble of Hank's voice and a higher pitch response that must be Sera. They were laughing together, Sera telling some story and Hank just rolling in laughter. He growled. So much for peace and quiet. He stalked into the kitchen.
Sera was sitting at the kitchen table, feet propped up like she had not a worry in the world, and she was... he stopped and stared, rage coloring his world red. She was drinking his beer! And not one of them, there were a couple of empties on the table as well.
"Sera!" he roared; there was just no containing it. Dimly he heard Hank excuse himself, saying something about tending to his patient. Wolverine spared the man no attention, everything was focused on Sera and her insolent grin.
"That's my beer," he snarled viscously.
"Yeah?" was her serene response. "You got good taste in beer, I gotta hand you that."
"Who said you could drink my beer?"
"Didn't see your name anywhere on it."
Wolverine grabbed the bottle from her hand. "I ought to dump this on your head!"
"Do what you want, but I gotta say, sounds like a waste of a good drink."
He froze, bottle tipped menacingly over head, and he could see her eyes crinkle in laughter, though he was now being extra careful of looking directly at them. Yep, no doubt about it, she was laughing at him. He had never met anyone, not in his whole life, who drove him as crazy as this woman. Without a second thought, he dumped the beer on her head, soaking her. She sputtered now, beer dripping through her hair, down her face, onto her shirt. What'd do you know? Thing went sheer again. Girl really ought to get a better quality of clothes.
Sera sprung up out of her her chair, which probably would have gone better if her feet weren't on the table. Chair, table and soaked woman got tangled, the end result being Sera on the floor under the table, with the chair on top of her. "You," she yelped, "are nuts!"
"Ya said to do what I want." It was pretty funny and Wolverine was completely fascinated by the colors she turned when pissed.
She made some kind of inarticulate scream and before Wolverine knew what was going on, bit him on the ankle.
"What are you? Insane?" he roared. She bit harder.
That was too much for Wolverine who had a long night and a longer day. "Snikt" went the his claws as he popped them out of his skin and leaned down to the woman who still had her teeth dug into his leg. He knew he was going regret going anywhere in the mansion barefoot but this wasn't exactly the reason that had occurred to him.
"Ya wanna let go of my leg, kid, or you want to be a lot shorter?"
It was an uncomfortable tableau. Sera, eyes wide, almost fearful but not quite as he was expecting, Wolverine with his claws against her throat. Neither seemed quite inclined to move.
All in all, it was not a classy moment for Jean and Scott to walk in, drawn, no doubt, by the noise of them yelling and Sera rolling around in furniture. They too, froze, obviously startled.
"What," asked Scott in his very coldest, least amused voice, "is going on here?"
Jean, on the other hand, seemed speechless, but Wolverine noticed a tightening to her lips that let him know she was trying her best not to laugh. He cast about in his mind, trying to find some way to explain this. It was especially hard, given that he couldn't place in his head why any of this seemed like a good idea in the first place.
Carefully, Sera removed her teeth from his leg. He was briefly thankful for his quick healing. That hadn't been any gentle bite; wench had broken skin with that and she had surprisingly sharp teeth. She swallowed carefully, looked up at the two newcomers and worked a smile across her face.
"Um, hello," she ventured carefully. "I'm Sera."
Wolverine felt, unaccountably, very calm. Yes, this all made perfect sense, there was a very good reason for all this... no there wasn't! He would never think any of this made sense.
He moved the claws closer to Sera's throat, really mad this time. "Quit the mind games!" he roared and the feelings ceased. Scott and Jean looked perplexed. "What are you, ethics free?"
"No," she muttered, "Just really bloody embarrassed. You want to get these claws off my throat before I decide I am ethics free?"
Growling, he pulled the claws in and spent a couple of minutes trying to figure out how to tell Jeannie and Scott what going on. Finally, he decided it was hopeless, growled again, and stalked from the room. Let little Ms. Manipulation find a way to explain this. And it better be a good one, cause as he left neither of the other two were looking real thrilled. It was almost worth a laugh. Once he got past wanting to rend her limb from limb, it was almost funny.
Sera rolled gracefully out from under the chair and table and to her feet, as if things like this happened to her everyday. The couple- there was no mistaking that they were a couple- were staring at her. Thinning her shields a little, she could feel a bunch of different emotions from them. First and foremost was suspicion. They had never seen her before and she wasn't exactly looking non-violent when they walked in. Right behind that was humor and a lot of surprise. Sera was fast getting the feeling that Wolverine wasn't exactly the playful type. Not that you could really call that whole mess playing. That thought in mind, she quickly wiped his blood off her mouth, thinking she'd look a lot more warm and fuzzy that way. They were still staring; the woman's eyebrow had quirked up, just the faintest bit.
Oozing confidence from every pore and reflecting that this was the most she had used her powers in years, Sera smiled again. How to use this to the best of her advantage and the worst to Wolverine's? He was definitely up for some kind of revenge, leaving her alone to explain this mess to complete strangers. "Sorry about that, folks. Foreplay." Disbelief and horrified amusement coming from them now. "Well," she added in a rush, Dr. McCoy will be wanting me back in the lab. So nice to meet you."
She made her get away as they stared in astonishment. She couldn't wait till that little story caught up with Wolverine. In the meantime, she had some questions to ponder. Like, how the hell did he get claws?