Hello again everyone.
This chapter is dedicated to my two favorite reviewers for this story (also the only ones):
Band geek #9: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you like it so much! *pats head* Good puppy.
EternalEvanescence: You reviewed BOTH of my stories?!? How cool! You and I do portray the Brotherhood differently, don't we? *gets thoughtful look* How intriguing. Thank you for the review. My whole face lit up when I saw it was your review. You make me so happy *starts singing nattily* *gets smacked by huge hand from nowhere* Sorry. I had too much chocolate today.
Now, since you've both been waiting sooooo long, here's the next chap:
Chapter 1
~ dark
cold
chains
hurt
pain
voices
blood
tears
screams
hungry
thirsty
tired
scared
begging
crying
hitting
kicking
pushing
pulling
scratching
smashing
tripping
ripping
choking
hurting
begging
sobbing
shrieking
dark ~
Ororo Monroe looked up from the smudged and torn paper in her hand, looking confused and disturbed, "She wrote this?"
The doctor before her nodded sadly, "Yes, she did. She wrote that last night. I wasn't there when she did, but I found it just this morning."
Ororo bit her lip, keeping her eyes on the scribbled words before her, "And she.she wrote it with.what?"
"Apparently she got hold of a pen. She's not allowed to have them in there with her, for obvious reasons. But she got hold of one, wrote that, and then scratched her arm with it. It took ten stitches."
Ororo looked up sharply, swallowing back a wave of nausea; maybe this wasn't such a grand idea. This was her first visit with Meghan, she hadn't even met her yet, and she was already getting scared. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she asked, "Doctor Johnson-"
"Please. Call me Heather-"
"Heather, how long has she been here now?"
"About two weeks. We haven't gotten a word out of her, and she never leaves her bed. We can't even feed her unless we sedate her."
Heather frowned slightly, noting Ororo's pale face and dizzy expression, "Are you sure you can handle this? You don't have to, you know."
Ororo shook her head firmly, "No. I do have to. I need to find out exactly what happened, so we can track down the Brotherhood. It's my duty to the X- Men.and to myself."
Heather smiled slightly, reaching out and squeezing Storm's hand, "Alright. I'll call you when you can come in. We need to strap her down first."
Feeling a wave of sickening cold crash over her, Storm nodded, watching as the doctor headed down the hall.
Sliding wearily into a chair, Ororo set the slip of paper on her lap, letting her face fall into her hands; maybe this was just a little too fast. Maybe she should have started with something minor, like a child with simple depression. She could have become a big sister to someone, but no; she had jumped right into the psycho ward to befriend and question a mentally unstable sixteen year old who apparently thought she was six and refused to speak.
"I've done it now," Storm groaned, "I just had to volunteer.just had to go right for the throat."
But then, Ororo knew deep inside that this was the only way to confront her painful past,. This was the only way to face her fears and really help the X-Men. This was the only way to make those nightmares go away.
Sitting up a little straighter, ignoring the throbbing bile that had risen to her throat, Ororo reached over and grabbed a nearby magazine, flipping it open and staring blankly at the pictures.
Within minutes (it seemed an instant for Storm), the nurse leaned over the reception desk she sat at and called, "Ororo, you can go in now. Just go straight through those two doors to your left and down the hall. A guard will escort you to Meghan's room."
Ororo nodded mutely and stood, her knees beginning to weaken. Taking a deep breath, she turned into the doors, pushing them open and walking through as they swung forward.
The hallway was long and lit brightly, gleaming white from every direction. It smelled strongly of alcohol and antiseptic, and her boots clicked strangely on the linoleum floors, echoing back to her eerily.
All in all, it wasn't a comforting walk to the armed young man at the end of the hall.
The boy smiled and extended a hand, "Hi. I'm Mark. You must be Ororo?"
"Yes."
"Nice to meet you. I'll take you to Meghan's room."
Storm shook his hand warily and watched as he unlocked a door and strolled through, into the next room.
Storm followed and blinked, the sudden change from bright spaces to dimly lit chambers hurting her eyes. She trailed Mark past rows and rows of white, metal doors that had windows set into the top and that had metallic numbers engraved into a nearby sign. A few times she allowed herself a glance through the barred glass, but she could see nothing beyond them except white rooms and beds.
At one of the mentioned doors, Mark stopped and swiped a card through a machine that beeped strangely before allowing the door to click open. Mark stepped back and gestured Storm to head in, giving her an encouraging grin as she passed him.
Meghan's room was like the others-inhumanly clean and blaringly plain, with nothing but a cot, a padded shelf, and a plastic chair. It smelled very bland and fresh, and everything was set neatly against the cushioned walls. After glancing nervously around the room for a while, Storm caught sight of a pair of dark blue eyes staring at her from the bed.
Ororo turned a little, silently watching as the eyes blinked at her.
Mark shut the door softly and nudged Storm forward, whispering, "That's her. Say hi."
Storm felt foolishly like a child in kindergarten class as she softly said, "Hi."
Slowly, the blanket slid away from the eyes, revealing an oval-shaped face covered with tousled auburn hair.
Meghan's wrists were both held to the bed by straps, but she had been allowed to sit up at least.
Gathering her courage, Ororo took a step forward, "My name's Ororo.you're Meghan, right?"
No answer, only a tilted head and a slightly blank look.
Mark cleared his throat, "She's your friend, Meg. She's here to help. Don't be scared."
Meghan's eyes never left Ororo's, and her stare was so intense that the older woman had to glance away.
Mark chuckled, "Don't let her scare you. She's harmless to others, really."
Storm gave a weak laugh, beginning to wish she'd simply let Jean do this.
"Think of her as a young child," Mark offered, , "She's just a little kid up here."
He tapped his head slightly.
Ororo nodded in understanding.
Meghan looked down at her hands and quietly traced a finger along her palm. As she did so, the blanket slid off of her shoulders and Storm saw a blood- streaked bandage on her arm.
"Is that where.?"
Mark nodded solemnly, his eyes focusing on the child's arm, "Yea. That's where she cut herself."
After a second, Ororo sighed, "Does she even know we're here?"
"Yea. I think she does. She just doesn't really like to show emotion. I'm pretty sure she likes company though."
It was then that Meghan lifted up her hand and began staring at the chains binding her wrists.
Mark's face went suddenly very still, and he watched her carefully.
Meghan's eyes widened slightly, and her gaze drifted down to the base of the chain, attached to the bed.
After a second, she tugged experimentally on it. Then she pulled harder.
That was when she started panicking.
Mark sighed, swearing under his breath as he quickly raced out the door.
Ororo watched him leave with growing concern, turning as Meghan let out a whimper.
The child was now jerking forcefully on the chain with both hands, tears forming in her eyes and her breath coming in sharp gasps.
Unsure of what to do, Storm simply watched in astonishment as Meghan began screaming incoherently, throwing herself against the wall and scratching at the straps on her arms. The leather held fast though, and even when she leaned all of her weight against it and tore at the straps, it stayed taut and strong.
In seconds, half a dozen people had burst into the room, shouting medical terms and basically tackling poor Meghan down.
Meghan took this as a sign of attack and began fighting heatedly, shrieking and sobbing as she kicked and thrashed under the team's grip.
One of the nurses managed to fill a syringe and immediately jabbed it into Meghan's arm, squirting the contents into her veins.
In what seemed a second, Meghan went limp and the noise subsided.
The people left without a word, shaking their heads sadly and muttering to one another.
Mark came in as soon as they left and stared at Meghan, sighing, "We really thought she'd be ok."
Ororo, still stunned form the display, could only nod.
"It was her first time with any real visitors, so she's never been held down like that. I don't know what triggered the outburst though."
Storm was pressed against the far wall, tears starting to sting her eyes.
Mark glanced at her, "You OK?"
Without a word, Ororo slowly slipped over to the bed, standing above Meghan and watching her quietly.
Sleeping like she was, with the blanket draped slightly over her and her face so relaxed, Meghan looked so much more peaceful.
Storm wondered if she was happy when she slept.
Tentatively, Storm reached out and brushed the girl's hair with her fingertips, drawing her hand back sharply when Meghan stirred.
Without a word, Ororo turned and strode past Mark, wiping tears from her eyes.
Mark caught up with Ororo in the parking lot, where the obviously shaken woman was jamming the wrong key into her car door.
"Ororo, I just want.to apologize for what you had to see."
Storm nodded, "It's alright, Mark. It wasn't your fault."
"It kinda was. I went to get the nurses. It's my job. When Meghan starts to panic, she can hurt herself. That's why they sedated her."
Storm paused, switching keys, "I know."
Mark watched as Storm's shaking hand slid the key into the lock and turned it sharply.
"Storm.is something wrong?"
Ororo caught her breath, allowing herself to relax. Finally, she replied, "It just shocked me, is all. I.didn't know that's what happened.they just.came in and stuck her with a needle, and then she.fell over.almost like she was..dead."
Mark nodded in understanding, "Yea. It's kinda creepy. That's why I stayed out of the room when they did it.sorry I didn't warn you."
Storm shook her head, "It's alright."
She opened the door then and slid into the driver's seat, pausing before closing the door.
Mark leaned forward, resting an arm on the door and smiling slightly, "You gonna come back?"
Ororo thought about that, staring out of her windshield as she pondered. Finally, she nodded, "Yes. I'll be back.I'll be back in a few days. I just need to think things over. But I'll be back."
Mark's grin widened, "Cool. Meghan will be happy."
Ororo turned to Mark, giving him a grateful smile, "Thanks for your help."
"You're welcome," Mark replied jovially, stepping back as the door closed.
He waved as Storm backed out of her parking spot, and watched as she drove down the street.
He smiled again, but it was a much different gesture as his eyes flashed yellow for only a split second.
This chapter is dedicated to my two favorite reviewers for this story (also the only ones):
Band geek #9: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you like it so much! *pats head* Good puppy.
EternalEvanescence: You reviewed BOTH of my stories?!? How cool! You and I do portray the Brotherhood differently, don't we? *gets thoughtful look* How intriguing. Thank you for the review. My whole face lit up when I saw it was your review. You make me so happy *starts singing nattily* *gets smacked by huge hand from nowhere* Sorry. I had too much chocolate today.
Now, since you've both been waiting sooooo long, here's the next chap:
Chapter 1
~ dark
cold
chains
hurt
pain
voices
blood
tears
screams
hungry
thirsty
tired
scared
begging
crying
hitting
kicking
pushing
pulling
scratching
smashing
tripping
ripping
choking
hurting
begging
sobbing
shrieking
dark ~
Ororo Monroe looked up from the smudged and torn paper in her hand, looking confused and disturbed, "She wrote this?"
The doctor before her nodded sadly, "Yes, she did. She wrote that last night. I wasn't there when she did, but I found it just this morning."
Ororo bit her lip, keeping her eyes on the scribbled words before her, "And she.she wrote it with.what?"
"Apparently she got hold of a pen. She's not allowed to have them in there with her, for obvious reasons. But she got hold of one, wrote that, and then scratched her arm with it. It took ten stitches."
Ororo looked up sharply, swallowing back a wave of nausea; maybe this wasn't such a grand idea. This was her first visit with Meghan, she hadn't even met her yet, and she was already getting scared. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she asked, "Doctor Johnson-"
"Please. Call me Heather-"
"Heather, how long has she been here now?"
"About two weeks. We haven't gotten a word out of her, and she never leaves her bed. We can't even feed her unless we sedate her."
Heather frowned slightly, noting Ororo's pale face and dizzy expression, "Are you sure you can handle this? You don't have to, you know."
Ororo shook her head firmly, "No. I do have to. I need to find out exactly what happened, so we can track down the Brotherhood. It's my duty to the X- Men.and to myself."
Heather smiled slightly, reaching out and squeezing Storm's hand, "Alright. I'll call you when you can come in. We need to strap her down first."
Feeling a wave of sickening cold crash over her, Storm nodded, watching as the doctor headed down the hall.
Sliding wearily into a chair, Ororo set the slip of paper on her lap, letting her face fall into her hands; maybe this was just a little too fast. Maybe she should have started with something minor, like a child with simple depression. She could have become a big sister to someone, but no; she had jumped right into the psycho ward to befriend and question a mentally unstable sixteen year old who apparently thought she was six and refused to speak.
"I've done it now," Storm groaned, "I just had to volunteer.just had to go right for the throat."
But then, Ororo knew deep inside that this was the only way to confront her painful past,. This was the only way to face her fears and really help the X-Men. This was the only way to make those nightmares go away.
Sitting up a little straighter, ignoring the throbbing bile that had risen to her throat, Ororo reached over and grabbed a nearby magazine, flipping it open and staring blankly at the pictures.
Within minutes (it seemed an instant for Storm), the nurse leaned over the reception desk she sat at and called, "Ororo, you can go in now. Just go straight through those two doors to your left and down the hall. A guard will escort you to Meghan's room."
Ororo nodded mutely and stood, her knees beginning to weaken. Taking a deep breath, she turned into the doors, pushing them open and walking through as they swung forward.
The hallway was long and lit brightly, gleaming white from every direction. It smelled strongly of alcohol and antiseptic, and her boots clicked strangely on the linoleum floors, echoing back to her eerily.
All in all, it wasn't a comforting walk to the armed young man at the end of the hall.
The boy smiled and extended a hand, "Hi. I'm Mark. You must be Ororo?"
"Yes."
"Nice to meet you. I'll take you to Meghan's room."
Storm shook his hand warily and watched as he unlocked a door and strolled through, into the next room.
Storm followed and blinked, the sudden change from bright spaces to dimly lit chambers hurting her eyes. She trailed Mark past rows and rows of white, metal doors that had windows set into the top and that had metallic numbers engraved into a nearby sign. A few times she allowed herself a glance through the barred glass, but she could see nothing beyond them except white rooms and beds.
At one of the mentioned doors, Mark stopped and swiped a card through a machine that beeped strangely before allowing the door to click open. Mark stepped back and gestured Storm to head in, giving her an encouraging grin as she passed him.
Meghan's room was like the others-inhumanly clean and blaringly plain, with nothing but a cot, a padded shelf, and a plastic chair. It smelled very bland and fresh, and everything was set neatly against the cushioned walls. After glancing nervously around the room for a while, Storm caught sight of a pair of dark blue eyes staring at her from the bed.
Ororo turned a little, silently watching as the eyes blinked at her.
Mark shut the door softly and nudged Storm forward, whispering, "That's her. Say hi."
Storm felt foolishly like a child in kindergarten class as she softly said, "Hi."
Slowly, the blanket slid away from the eyes, revealing an oval-shaped face covered with tousled auburn hair.
Meghan's wrists were both held to the bed by straps, but she had been allowed to sit up at least.
Gathering her courage, Ororo took a step forward, "My name's Ororo.you're Meghan, right?"
No answer, only a tilted head and a slightly blank look.
Mark cleared his throat, "She's your friend, Meg. She's here to help. Don't be scared."
Meghan's eyes never left Ororo's, and her stare was so intense that the older woman had to glance away.
Mark chuckled, "Don't let her scare you. She's harmless to others, really."
Storm gave a weak laugh, beginning to wish she'd simply let Jean do this.
"Think of her as a young child," Mark offered, , "She's just a little kid up here."
He tapped his head slightly.
Ororo nodded in understanding.
Meghan looked down at her hands and quietly traced a finger along her palm. As she did so, the blanket slid off of her shoulders and Storm saw a blood- streaked bandage on her arm.
"Is that where.?"
Mark nodded solemnly, his eyes focusing on the child's arm, "Yea. That's where she cut herself."
After a second, Ororo sighed, "Does she even know we're here?"
"Yea. I think she does. She just doesn't really like to show emotion. I'm pretty sure she likes company though."
It was then that Meghan lifted up her hand and began staring at the chains binding her wrists.
Mark's face went suddenly very still, and he watched her carefully.
Meghan's eyes widened slightly, and her gaze drifted down to the base of the chain, attached to the bed.
After a second, she tugged experimentally on it. Then she pulled harder.
That was when she started panicking.
Mark sighed, swearing under his breath as he quickly raced out the door.
Ororo watched him leave with growing concern, turning as Meghan let out a whimper.
The child was now jerking forcefully on the chain with both hands, tears forming in her eyes and her breath coming in sharp gasps.
Unsure of what to do, Storm simply watched in astonishment as Meghan began screaming incoherently, throwing herself against the wall and scratching at the straps on her arms. The leather held fast though, and even when she leaned all of her weight against it and tore at the straps, it stayed taut and strong.
In seconds, half a dozen people had burst into the room, shouting medical terms and basically tackling poor Meghan down.
Meghan took this as a sign of attack and began fighting heatedly, shrieking and sobbing as she kicked and thrashed under the team's grip.
One of the nurses managed to fill a syringe and immediately jabbed it into Meghan's arm, squirting the contents into her veins.
In what seemed a second, Meghan went limp and the noise subsided.
The people left without a word, shaking their heads sadly and muttering to one another.
Mark came in as soon as they left and stared at Meghan, sighing, "We really thought she'd be ok."
Ororo, still stunned form the display, could only nod.
"It was her first time with any real visitors, so she's never been held down like that. I don't know what triggered the outburst though."
Storm was pressed against the far wall, tears starting to sting her eyes.
Mark glanced at her, "You OK?"
Without a word, Ororo slowly slipped over to the bed, standing above Meghan and watching her quietly.
Sleeping like she was, with the blanket draped slightly over her and her face so relaxed, Meghan looked so much more peaceful.
Storm wondered if she was happy when she slept.
Tentatively, Storm reached out and brushed the girl's hair with her fingertips, drawing her hand back sharply when Meghan stirred.
Without a word, Ororo turned and strode past Mark, wiping tears from her eyes.
Mark caught up with Ororo in the parking lot, where the obviously shaken woman was jamming the wrong key into her car door.
"Ororo, I just want.to apologize for what you had to see."
Storm nodded, "It's alright, Mark. It wasn't your fault."
"It kinda was. I went to get the nurses. It's my job. When Meghan starts to panic, she can hurt herself. That's why they sedated her."
Storm paused, switching keys, "I know."
Mark watched as Storm's shaking hand slid the key into the lock and turned it sharply.
"Storm.is something wrong?"
Ororo caught her breath, allowing herself to relax. Finally, she replied, "It just shocked me, is all. I.didn't know that's what happened.they just.came in and stuck her with a needle, and then she.fell over.almost like she was..dead."
Mark nodded in understanding, "Yea. It's kinda creepy. That's why I stayed out of the room when they did it.sorry I didn't warn you."
Storm shook her head, "It's alright."
She opened the door then and slid into the driver's seat, pausing before closing the door.
Mark leaned forward, resting an arm on the door and smiling slightly, "You gonna come back?"
Ororo thought about that, staring out of her windshield as she pondered. Finally, she nodded, "Yes. I'll be back.I'll be back in a few days. I just need to think things over. But I'll be back."
Mark's grin widened, "Cool. Meghan will be happy."
Ororo turned to Mark, giving him a grateful smile, "Thanks for your help."
"You're welcome," Mark replied jovially, stepping back as the door closed.
He waved as Storm backed out of her parking spot, and watched as she drove down the street.
He smiled again, but it was a much different gesture as his eyes flashed yellow for only a split second.