Aadalyn pulled a steak knife from the cutting block. She crossed the room to the fridge of the small but well-stocked Brotherhood kitchen.
"Now what would you be doing with a knife at 2am?"
She didn't have to look up to know who it was. "Hello, Erik."
"Hello, Lorelai."
She smiled just a bit. Middle name, always the middle name. She found what she was looking for and hacked off a stemful of grapes. She let the door swing shut and slid the knife back into the cutting block effortlessly.
"So what keeps you up this late, Erik?"
"I could ask you the same."
Aadalyn grunted. "Second-swing hormones. You're just laying down to sleep, then all of a sudden you're up for another three hours."
"And so you decided you were hungry?"
"I'm 17 and putting on vertical inches. I'm always hungry."
"Ahhhhh, so you're where all the milk has been disappearing."
Aadalyn downed half her glass in one gulp. "Yup."
"I've noticed you've been getting taller. Have you been keeping track of your height?"
"Yes. And I'm already taller than I'd like. 5'7 and still growing."
"Weren't you barely 5'2 when you came to us?"
"Yup."
"And I thought Victor grew quickly."
"I shudder to think how tall you'd be if you hadn't spent your adolescence in Auchwitz. You realize we just spent three minutes talking about my height?" she asked, not stopping for a breath.
"And?"
"I'm starting to think Stryker was right."
"About what?"
"We are freaks."
"You are one of a kind, Lorelai."
"I reiterate: we are freaks. Insane ones too."
"You'll need a new uniform soon."
"I already need a new uniform. Nothing fits me that did three months ago."
"I'll have Mystique take you into the city tomorrow."
"I don't like her."
"She would have it differently, Lorelai."
"Stop being so damned cryptic. She's too much like my mother."
"You told me you didn't know who your mother was."
"I told you I didn't know who my real mother was. I could never forget my foster bitch."
"Lorelai, remember your blood pressure."
"High, yeah, I know. Fuck the blood pressure. I can heal."
"You can't come back from death."
"You don't know that."
"No one can really come back from death."
"You don't care if I never wake up."
"I care for all my children."
"I'm not your child. I'm no one's child."
"Yes, of course. You'd rather remain tragically misunderstood than actually be happy."
"Damned fucking straight."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
"I'll do whatever I want. You're not my father."
"I could be your great-grandfather. I will be 80 when you're 18."
"I'll do whatever I want."
"Grapes and ravioli must be an interesting combination."
"Nothing is interesting after you've drunk milk with peanut butter, jelly, bread, and potato chips in it."
"Yes, that does sound like it would rather jade you in terms of interesting food."
"I was drunk."
"You're underage."
"What in our history makes you think I'd care?"
"When did I say you'd care?" A pause, in which Aadalyn giggled in an aloof sort of way and bounced around the kitchen. "There you go with the flouncing again."
"Yup."
"Go to bed."
"No."
"You'll need to be up early if you want to have much time in the city."
"You're kidding me, right? I need about 5 hours of sleep. Another hour and I'll go to bed."
"You should be getting more than 5 hours of sleep."
"Yeah, well, I'm not. Maybe if I starve myself for sleep I'll stop growing."
"Why would you want that?"
"I've been short all my life. And gods know I don't wanna grow as tall as you."
"Lorelai."
Aadalyn looked up at him. "Yes, Mr. I'm-So-Serious-Out-Of-Nowhere?"
"Any regrets?"
Aadalyn knew what he was talking about, and considered.
"No."
Erik raised an eyebrow. Aadalyn looked down.
"Live once, you know?" She looked up, looking into his eyes. "No regrets."
After a moment of silence, Aadalyn grabbed her poptart out of the toaster and headed off to her room, mentioning something about a shower, leaving Erik to sit, nodding and smiling.
"Now what would you be doing with a knife at 2am?"
She didn't have to look up to know who it was. "Hello, Erik."
"Hello, Lorelai."
She smiled just a bit. Middle name, always the middle name. She found what she was looking for and hacked off a stemful of grapes. She let the door swing shut and slid the knife back into the cutting block effortlessly.
"So what keeps you up this late, Erik?"
"I could ask you the same."
Aadalyn grunted. "Second-swing hormones. You're just laying down to sleep, then all of a sudden you're up for another three hours."
"And so you decided you were hungry?"
"I'm 17 and putting on vertical inches. I'm always hungry."
"Ahhhhh, so you're where all the milk has been disappearing."
Aadalyn downed half her glass in one gulp. "Yup."
"I've noticed you've been getting taller. Have you been keeping track of your height?"
"Yes. And I'm already taller than I'd like. 5'7 and still growing."
"Weren't you barely 5'2 when you came to us?"
"Yup."
"And I thought Victor grew quickly."
"I shudder to think how tall you'd be if you hadn't spent your adolescence in Auchwitz. You realize we just spent three minutes talking about my height?" she asked, not stopping for a breath.
"And?"
"I'm starting to think Stryker was right."
"About what?"
"We are freaks."
"You are one of a kind, Lorelai."
"I reiterate: we are freaks. Insane ones too."
"You'll need a new uniform soon."
"I already need a new uniform. Nothing fits me that did three months ago."
"I'll have Mystique take you into the city tomorrow."
"I don't like her."
"She would have it differently, Lorelai."
"Stop being so damned cryptic. She's too much like my mother."
"You told me you didn't know who your mother was."
"I told you I didn't know who my real mother was. I could never forget my foster bitch."
"Lorelai, remember your blood pressure."
"High, yeah, I know. Fuck the blood pressure. I can heal."
"You can't come back from death."
"You don't know that."
"No one can really come back from death."
"You don't care if I never wake up."
"I care for all my children."
"I'm not your child. I'm no one's child."
"Yes, of course. You'd rather remain tragically misunderstood than actually be happy."
"Damned fucking straight."
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
"I'll do whatever I want. You're not my father."
"I could be your great-grandfather. I will be 80 when you're 18."
"I'll do whatever I want."
"Grapes and ravioli must be an interesting combination."
"Nothing is interesting after you've drunk milk with peanut butter, jelly, bread, and potato chips in it."
"Yes, that does sound like it would rather jade you in terms of interesting food."
"I was drunk."
"You're underage."
"What in our history makes you think I'd care?"
"When did I say you'd care?" A pause, in which Aadalyn giggled in an aloof sort of way and bounced around the kitchen. "There you go with the flouncing again."
"Yup."
"Go to bed."
"No."
"You'll need to be up early if you want to have much time in the city."
"You're kidding me, right? I need about 5 hours of sleep. Another hour and I'll go to bed."
"You should be getting more than 5 hours of sleep."
"Yeah, well, I'm not. Maybe if I starve myself for sleep I'll stop growing."
"Why would you want that?"
"I've been short all my life. And gods know I don't wanna grow as tall as you."
"Lorelai."
Aadalyn looked up at him. "Yes, Mr. I'm-So-Serious-Out-Of-Nowhere?"
"Any regrets?"
Aadalyn knew what he was talking about, and considered.
"No."
Erik raised an eyebrow. Aadalyn looked down.
"Live once, you know?" She looked up, looking into his eyes. "No regrets."
After a moment of silence, Aadalyn grabbed her poptart out of the toaster and headed off to her room, mentioning something about a shower, leaving Erik to sit, nodding and smiling.