Chapter 8: Feels Like Home
"BOBBY!"
Amy lifted her face toward her room door as it opened. "Bobby? Is that you?" she asked, unnecessarily, since she could smell the scent of his aftershave wafting through the air.
"Yeah," Bobby said as he quietly closed the door. "Hey, do me a favor, please? Don't tell Rogue I'm in here?" He slipped through her room and vanished into the bathroom.
Amy sighed as her fingers returned to the page of the book in her lap. "What have you done now?"
Bobby didn't get a chance to answer. There came a knock on Amy's door from someone in the hallway,. And then Rogue stuck her head in. "Amy? Is Bobby in heah?"
Amy smiled. Placing her left index finger to her lips, she pointed toward her bathroom with her right. Rogue tiptoed in, patted Amy's hand in a silent acknowledgement of her help, then pushed open Amy's bathroom door. There was a thud from the door, then a muttered curse, and Rogue yelled, "Gotcha!" She dragged Bobby out of the bathroom and tossed him onto the floor. "How dare yah put dye in my shampoo! Do yah know how many times Ah'm gonna hafta wash mah hair tah get all of this goo outta it?"
"Bobby!" Amy closed her book and slid off her bed. "You put dye in Rogue's shampoo?"
"He sure did," Rogue spat. "Yah can't see it, but mah hair's all black now!" Her voice dripped disgust.
Bobby started to laugh. He couldn't help it. Rogue was standing there with her hair dripping wetly down her back…and the strands were now a bizarre mix of white, black, and auburn streaks. He clutched his sides, howling with laughter as Rogue fumed. Amy dropped to the floor, figuring out where he was by following the sound of his laughter, then pounced on him and started tickling him. Rogue joined in, and soon all three were rolling around on the floor, laughing helplessly as they tickled each other. Bobby was getting the worst of it, however; he soon decided that a hasty retreat was in order, squirmed out from under the pile, and ran for the door. Rogue pursued him hotly, and Amy fell back onto her bed, laughing.
It had only been a week since Amy had come to the mansion, but it was already feeling like home. Everyone accepted her as though she were one of them, not an outsider, and had included her in their activities and plans without a trace of awkwardness. Amy was grateful. After being alone for so long, it was nice having friends to laugh with, do things with (even if she couldn't see, there were still things she'd found she could do without needing sight.) Ororo had found out that Amy was good with plants; so Amy spent time outdoors each day, helping Ororo water and tend to the plants on the grounds and in the greenhouse. She could feel the soil and tell if it needed water or not.
She wiped her streaming eyes and flopped on her stomach down on her bed. They had all been so nice; Bobby, especially. She was still terrified that the Kingpin was looking for her; Charles had kept in touch with Daredevil and learned from him that the city still wasn't safe for her. Every time Bobby went out, he would bring something back for her. Small things, at first, like candy for her and toys for Carl, but then he found out from Jean that Amy really loved to read. He'd scoured the city's bookshops until he found one that sold Braille books. Amy now had a collection of books that she could read in subjects she liked, and the collection got bigger all the time.
Bobby, however, wasn't her only source for books. Matt Murdock was an occasional visitor to the mansion. He not only brought her books to read, but he had begun to teach her how to fight. She wasn't very good; her sense of hearing wasn't as acute as his; but she was getting better. Matt was a patient, gentle teacher; she liked him, though there was some kind of secret about him that she didn't know about. He would sometimes stop in the middle of a sentence and change the topic. It confused her. She had figured that it had something to do with the vigilante of Hell's Kitchen, Daredevil…but she couldn't figure out how that related to Matt, and he wouldn't have answered her question. So she left that alone, preferring to deal with her own problem: Bobby and Matt.
She was torn. On the one hand was Bobby, bubbly and full of life; and so kind and gentle and caring as well. Matt was different. He was serious, brooding, but still gentle and caring, in his own way. She knew Matt cared about her; she cared about him too, but not in quite the same way she cared about Bobby. She had finally admitted that she was in love with Bobby to herself; but she loved Matt too.
She sighed. She wished she had someone she could talk to. Jean had told her gently that Amy could come and talk to her if she needed to, but Amy was still struggling with feelings of resentment for her, Charles, and Scott, and couldn't bring herself to talk to Jean about her feelings.
She slid a bookmark into her book and put it on her bedside table, then reached over to her clock. It was a regular round face, with hands, but this had been designed for non-seeing people. Matt had gotten it for her. The numbers were raised, and the hands couldn't be moved by a simple touch. Her fingers felt down the minute hand, then the hour hand, then felt the number closest to each. It was ten minutes till one; She had to start out now if she was to meet Ororo out in the greenhouse.
She slid her feet into her sneakers and stood up. Charles had left orders that the furniture wasn't to be moved; and that had simplified her life a lot. She was still unsure of herself in some of the not often used rooms, but she could get around most of the mansion with no help from her cane. And the back was easy; there was a paved path from the back door to the greenhouse.
She avoided the hall table out of habit; the same with the kitchen table. She felt for the lock on the back door, snapped it open, and went out.
It was hot! She gasped in the thick humidity of the air for a moment, accustoming herself to the heat, then headed down the path to the greenhouse. The temperature inside would be a little cooler than it was out here due to the (slightly) less humidity.
"Hello," came Ororo's calm, even tones as Amy entered. "We will not be here long today; it is too hot. Even for me." Amy smiled at the smile she heard in Ororo's voice. She knew the older woman was from Africa, where it was almost always hot. "When we are done here we are going swimming. Will you join us?"
"Swimming?" Amy stopped short. Could she do that without being able to see?
"Charles has a pool on the east lawn. We can teach you to swim, if you do not know how."
"Uh, well, I had swimming lessons when I was younger. That's not a problem. I was just thinking…don't I need to be able to see?"
"Not really," Ororo said. "we tend to close our eyes underwater to prevent the chlorine from stinging. As long as you are checking to see which side of the pool is the shallow end before you jump in you should be all right."
"Okay," Amy said, thinking how good the cool water would feel against her heated skin.
"Good. Now, if I am not intruding…what are those dark spots on your shirt?"
"My shirt?" Amy put a hand up, feeling the wet patches on her shirt, and then laughed. 'Bobby was up to his old tricks again."
"Oh, no," Ororo put down her watering can and went over to the girl. "What did he do, put ink in the wash again?"
Amy giggled. "He did that once too?"
Ororo chuckled. "Yes. He put a capsule of disappearing ink in Jean and Scott's clean laundry. When Jean started to fold the clothing, she found spots all over it. She thought Scott had simply left a pen in a pocket, so she put it all back in the basket and took it down to wash again. Only, by the time she got downstairs the ink had all disappeared and there was nothing on the clothing. She got mad at Bobby and gave him a migraine for an hour." She inspected the spot. "How did you get these?"
"Bobby put dye in Rogue's shampoo. When she found out she got mad, and started chasing him. He tried to hide in my room. I told her where he was, and we both jumped him and tickled him. Her hair was still wet; I guess some of the dye that was in it got onto my shirt." Amy finished watering the plants on her side and stood up. "It's okay. It was all fun."
Ororo smiled. "I hope Bobby used washable dye, or Rogue's going to be furious with him for a long time."
"She said something about how long it would take to wash it all out, so I assume it was washable," Amy said, standing on a small stool to check the flowering plants in the hanging baskets above her head. "Bobby wouldn't use permanent stuff. He's a big joker, but it's all harmless. He'd never do anything to really hurt anyone."
Ororo regarded the girl quietly as she heard the slightly defensive note in Amy's voice. "I know he would not, Amy. We have been friends for a long time." She paused for a moment. "We have been friends long enough for me to be able to tell when he is serious about girls. And he is serious about you. Amy, tell me something, just between us; are you serious about him too?"
Amy froze. "Uh, I…" She floundered. Ororo took her arm and helped her down from the stool.
"Matt has been here a lot lately, and he seems to spend a great deal of his time in your company," Ororo said. "Amy, is it just friendship, or is it something else?"
"I don't know," Amy whispered. "I love Bobby. I really do. He rescued me. But Matt cares so much…and he's teaching me so much…I can't help but care about him. I don't know."
Ororo sighed as she hugged Amy. The girl stayed stiff in her arms for a moment, then relaxed and hugged Ororo back. "Amy. I understand you still feel some resentment toward Charles, Scott, and Jean, but please try to get over it. I know it is hard, but they all feel terribly guilty, and it is not easy for them, seeing what has happened to you. Charles feels so bad, watching you stumble about, and he knows if he had paid more attention to you what happened to you would not have happened."
Amy tore herself out of Ororo's arms. "I can't," she said, tears spilling from her violet eyes. 'I can't forgive them for forgetting about me, because I can't forgive the guards or the other inmates. They abused me, they beat me and raped me and humiliated me, and then they blinded me. How am I supposed to forgive all of that?" Ororo clasped Amy in her arms in a tight hug, and Amy started to cry in earnest. "The guards would tie me to my cot every morning with my legs open, and then they'd leave my cell door open so that whoever wanted to use my body could just walk in and do what they wanted. They'd leave me there all day. It always hurt, first thing in the morning, but after two or three came it would be easier. But it would go on, and on, and on, all day, and by the time they'd come and untie me in the evening I hurt so much I could barely move. They'd drag me out to the yard, hose me down, then drag me back and shove me back in my cell.
"They didn't even allow me to wear clothes most of the time; the only time I got to wear one of the prison uniforms was when they had inspections by someone outside the prison. I tried to complain once; when the inspector passed my cell I tried to call for him, tell him what they were doing to me, and beg him to transfer me somewhere else. The warden told him I was delusional, and I was telling stories, and he didn't listen to me. He left. And as soon as he left the guards dragged me from my cell, took me out into the yard, stripped me, and whipped me with switches and barbed wire until I bled. When they were done they shoved me in The Coffin, in the solitary confinement level, and left me there for three days. The cuts got infected before they finally let me out, and when the cuts healed they left scars."
Amy was so lost in her misery that she didn't hear the door to the greenhouse open. Ororo looked up and saw Jean, standing in the doorway with wide eyes and a shocked expression. The tall silver-haired woman wondered how much of Amy's words Jean had heard.
All of it, Jean said into Ororo's head. Oh God, 'Ro, I didn't know she suffered so much! Bobby mentioned she had a few more scars on her back, but I didn't ask, and he didn't volunteer the information. No wonder she can't forgive us.
She will eventually, Ororo thought. It will just take time. At least she's talking about it. It will help her come to grips with what has happened. Jean, if you do not mind, I am going to try to calm her down and get her to stop crying before she gets sick. She has already said she would like to go swimming, so let me take her in, get her dressed, and bring her out. We shall see you and the others by the pool soon, all right?
All right. Jean backed out of the door, closing it softly behind her, and Ororo began to try to calm Amy down.
