Title: The Memory Game
Author: LadyElaine
Summary: Forget the cat's eyes and legs; forget the claws and spines and venom, and the overblown immune and digestive systems; forget the healing factor that only works when I'm comatose. Sometimes I think my real mutant "power" is running away.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: The characters and situations of X-Men belong to Stan Lee, Marvel, and 20th Century Fox. My only profit is (hopefully) feedback.
The Memory Game
I. Blink
Tree branches whipped across my face and neck. The piercing lights from the helicopters (I thought there were only two, but I couldn't be sure--and hey, two's enough!) tried to pin me to the ground, but somehow I kept slipping out from under them. Another wave of mental pressure swept over me, flattening me to the ground for a moment.
Finally I got back to the house and ran in through the kitchen door. It was still unlocked, just as I'd left it, and all the lights were out.
I had to stop for a second.
It was in here that It had happened to Robert, right after It had happened to me. I still didn't know what It was, but I'd been so stupid...
When Rob hit the floor, I was still shaking. I don't know what the hell I was thinking--just, we needed help. I grabbed the phone and dialed 911. The line must have picked up automatically, because there was no answer--but in the background I could hear screaming.
"Hello?" I yelled anyway. "We need help! My name is Melody Morgan, I don't know the address, but it's a house out in this wildlife reserve, and Rob's... Please, you have to answer!"
And then the screaming on the other end of the phone stopped. After a long moment, a shaky voice said, "Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?"
I looked down at where Robert lay. He wasn't breathing. I dropped the phone and ran.
Clapping my hands to the sides of my head, I tried to push away the insistent memories and stumbled out the back door. I could still hear the helicopters, and the wind was making a mess of the area, but I managed to get the cellar door unlatched. I scrambled in and huddled against the far wall, seeking whatever safety the chill, damp room might offer.
And then I couldn't hear the helicopters anymore. The wind was still howling, though, audible even past the closed cellar door, but it didn't seem like the house was going anywhere anytime soon. My quills were still standing on end, but I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was sleep. For a few years, maybe.
Everything had happened so fast. That's what folks say after any sort of emergency, and I suppose it's true. My heart pounded against my ribcage. It sounded like the thup-thup-thup of the helicopters. It sounded like the pulse of my terror every time I felt another mental sweep.
Except that these sweeps were different. With them came memories that I couldn't escape.
"How long had you known, Ian?" That was Doctor Dave, so quiet and calm that I knew he must have been angry.
Blink.
The goat had been scared off, but the rabbits and chickens were as oblivious as only rabbits and chickens can be. The dog was gone. So were the cats.
Blink.
I tripped over Bert's body, and Maurice fell on top of me. One hand kept the gun away from my head long enough for me to bury the claws of the other hand in his throat.
Blink.
"Flatscan blood is better for the complexion, you know."
Blink.
I took to the trees when I saw him. He was grilling venison over a campfire, his rifle perched against the same tree as him. He sat on the bare ground, one leg tossed easily over the other.
Blink.
Always the gentleman, Magneto pulled a handkerchief from his pocket for me. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, and he threw away the ruined little scrap of cloth that was left. It would have been funny, under almost any other circumstance.
Blink.
"Let us help you," the professor said softly. Any minute now, I'd feel a pressure on my mind to do what he asked. Any minute now....
And then the door creaked, and I could see the beam of a flashlight sweeping over the stairs.
"No, no, no, no..." I moaned. Why couldn't they just leave me alone? Ever since It had happened, the hatred of mutants had been stronger than ever. Packs of mutant hunters roamed everywhere, from inner-city sewers to all the way out here in the sticks. And it seemed like they all wanted me.
I squinted, trying to see past the glare of the flashlight, but my eyes stung. Night vision's great, sure--except for when someone flashes a blinding light at you. There was a shuffling, uncertain step, and I looked again. The figure silhouetted behind the light almost looked familiar.
Go away, I thought at it. Just, please go away. I shut my eyes, as if that would be any kind of help.
"Melody? Melody, honey?"
My eyes snapped open again. "...Mom?"