Chapter 11
Jean slipped into the darkened medlabs, and a tear filled her emerald eyes. Ororo was slumped over, asleep, in a chair pulled up by Joey's bed. Her book sat on the floor beside the chair, forgotten. Ororo's head was pillowed on the side of the bed, Joey's right hand pressed gently against her cheek.
Jean hated to disturb them, but they had to get Joey out of the medlabs and upstairs to a room. They couldn't bring her father down here, after all. "'Ro," she said quietly, shaking the sleeping woman's shoulder gently. "'Ro."
Ororo sat up, rubbing her eyes, still moving carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child. "Yes?" she whispered back.
"Charles got a hold of Joey's father. He's taking a company plane back to New York. We have to get Joey upstairs into a regular room before he comes."
Anger skimmed Ororo's eyes, and she stood stiffly, picking up her book and tucking it into the pocket of her robe. "So he finally comes, when it's too late to save her. He shouldn't be allowed to see her, Jean. He is nothing like a father should be to her."
Jean sighed. "Charles and I agree with you. I'm as angry with her father as you are. But he is still her father, Ororo. He still has a right to see her. And in the end, isn't it up to her whether she wants to see him or not?" She gently took the girl in a telekinetic grasp and lifted her off the bed. "Grab that IV stand. Thank goodness Hank doesn't have any of the Shi'ar equipment attached to her, or we'll have a hard time moving her." The two women moved together out into the halls, and Jean led the way to the elevator Charles used. "I'll take the stand," she held out her hand, but Ororo ignored it. With a quiet hiss of breath, she got on the elevator.
Jean didn't argue, but Ororo did notice she pushed the button that would adjust the speed on the elevator so that they would reach the second floor faster. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice tight and her eyes closed.
Jean looked at the fingers clenched around the light aluminum pole that Joey's IV bag swung from. "Don't want you to have a claustrophobia-induced panic attack in here," she said gently. "You'll wake Joey up."
Ororo remained quiet, closing her eyes as the elevator ascended past the first floor. She hated small spaces. Hated them with a passion. But for Joey…she would do almost anything for the little girl she'd come to care very much for over the last few months.
The elevator opened at the second floor, and Jean let Ororo walk out first. Then she followed, still 'carrying' the sleeping child. They proceeded past the occupied rooms, to stop at the door leading to the large room at the west corner of the house. Ororo smiled as Jean opened the door. "Why are we putting her in my old room?" she asked as Jean floated the child to the bed and held her as Ororo twitched back the covers.
"It's larger," Jean said. "This is going to be her room from now on. Charles wanted to make sure you'd be comfortable if you were planning on keeping a bedside vigil. Besides, the door to your attic is right beside this room's, so if you want to check on her at night you won't have far to go."
Ororo smiled and held the covers back as Jean lowered Joey onto the bed. "Thank you."
Jean fussed a little with the light aluminum stand that held Joey's IV, then left quietly. Ororo pulled the single chair in the room over to the bed. Sitting down on it, she took the book from her pocket, opened it, and began reading again, aloud.
She had finished that chapter and turned the page to begin another one when a soft sound from the bed alerted her to the fact that Joey was awake. "Hey," she said, putting the book down immediately and leaning forward. "How do you feel?"
"Weird," Joey said after a moment. "My head feels fuzzy, and my mouth's all dry, and all I can feel below my waist is a bit of tingling."
"The medication's working, then," Ororo said with a sigh. "Let me get you some water. Lie still until I get back." She hurried off to the bathroom for some water, and returned shortly. She was about to prop Joey up with a few pillows so she could drink when the room door opened, and Hank came in, followed by Jean.
"How are you doing today?" Hank said, smiling gently.
"Okay, I guess," Joey whispered. "Ororo was about to give me some water. Can I sit up?"
"Oh, no," Hank said hastily, intercepting the pillow Ororo was holding. "You have to lie still. See, the skin between your legs tore when you were…violated…and I had to close it with stitches. If you sit up you might tear them, and anyway, the pressure of your body on the stitches will hurt."
"But…how will I eat, or go to the bathroom?"
"Your IV will supply the nourishment necessary until the stitches come out in a few days. And a straw will be sufficient for you to take in fluids." As he spoke Jean dropped a straw into the cup Ororo held, and Joey raised her head enough to allow her to sip from the straw. After she'd satisfied her thirst, she lay back again. The tiny movement seemed to tire her.
"I would like to take a look at the stitches. Jean, if you will…" Hank reached for the covers at the end of the bed and started to pull them up.
"No!" Joey yelped, struggling to hold the covers down. Ororo sat on the edge of the bed, taking the girl's hand in hers and stroking the tangled brown hair, but Joey refused to calm down. "Please, no, don't look, please…" and she started to sob.
Hank looked at her. "Dear, I am a doctor, there is nothing I haven't seen…" but Jean laid a hand on his arm. He stepped aside with an abstracted look, then left the room.
"All right. You don't want Hank to look, because he's male, right?" Jean said softly as she pulled on a pair of exam gloves. "I'll take a look then. Will that be okay?" Slowly, Joey nodded, and settled back on the bed as Jean tugged the covers back. Ororo felt the light brush of Jean's mind reaching out, and she realized Jean was showing Hank the child's stitches without having him actually in the room. Joey tensed as Jean reached up, but when the redhead asked her if a touch hurt, she shook her head no. Jean dropped the covers. "All right. Relax, now. I'm done." She pulled off the gloves, dropped them in the trashcan, and then sat down in the chair Ororo had vacated. "We have some news for you," she said. "Charles has managed to contact your father, he should be here shortly."
"Papa?" Joey asked, eyes wide. "Papa's coming?" Ororo watched as a mix of emotions crossed her face. Her next words caught Jean completely by surprise. "Do I have to see him?"
"Joey, he's your father," Jean said. "Charles said he sounded shocked and worried over the phone, and he promised to come right away. We understand if you're upset with him, but you still should see him." She stood, straightened the blanket, and patted Joey's shoulder. "He should be here soon. We'll bring him up to see you when he gets here."
She left the room, leaving Joey and Ororo alone. Joey didn't say anything, and Ororo, seeing the turmoil of emotions still crossing Joey's face, decided to give her time to think. She went around the room, raising the blinds and clearing the dust off the furniture.
There was a gentle tap on the door, and Ororo said, "Come in."
Remy walked in, concealing something behind his back. "Hello, chere," he said to her by way of greeting, then turned to Joey. "Hello, ma petite fleur. Remy t'ought you might like to see an old frien'." And from behind his back he produced a worn, raggedy white teddy bear. "Remy see dis sittin' on your bed in your room, an' t'ought maybe you like to have him while you stuck in bed."
Joey's eyes had lit up at the sight of the bear, and she reached for it with open arms. "Duffy! How did you get Duffy, Monsieur Remy?"
"Yes, how did you?" Ororo regarded him with a wary expression.
Remy gave her a lopsided grin. "Took a little visit to de neighbors," he told her. "Don' frown, 'Ro, nobody see dis t'eif climbing de tree into her window." He jerked his thumb backward toward the door. "Brought a buncha her clot'es too. Jean sortin' out what don't fit. But I t'ought maybe she feel better if she have some o' de t'ings she like while she here, non?"
A slow, reluctant smile spread across Ororo's face. "I guess so. Remy, do you do things just to see if my heart will stop?"
"Non, chere. Remy know he can make your heart stop wit'out doin' not'ing." He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers before walking out of the room, letting the door close behind him softly.
Ororo was glad her chocolate skin hid the blush Remy's words and touch had created. Joey watched him leave, interested, then watched Ororo for a moment. "You like him," she said finally. "Is he your boyfriend?"
Ororo swallowed, quite hard. "No," she said, hesitantly, then sighed and decided for the truth. "We did 'go out' a few weeks ago. But the relationship didn't work out, and we decided to remain friends."
Joey opened her mouth to say something else, then stopped quickly. Ororo sat down by her bed in the chair again and took one of her hands. "What did you want to ask me?"
"It's kinda personal," Joey whispered, her eyes glued to her teddy bear.
"Child, I will answer it if I can," Ororo said. "What did you want to ask me?"
"Did you ever…" Joey swallowed. "I mean, did Monsieur Remy and you…ever…well…did you see him…undressed?"
Ororo again opted for the truth. Maybe, if she was honest in her replies, she could paint a different picture of men and sex for Joey than this ugly incident had already created in her mind. "Yes, I have," she said. "We have slept together as well."
Joey looked horrified. "You mean he…put his….in you? It hurts!"
Ororo tried to compose her thoughts. The rape had been traumatic, and she had to remind herself that a child going through it would look at intimate relationships from that point of view. She didn't know it could be pleasurable. "It did not," she said, a blush involuntarily coloring her cheeks at the thought of what it had felt like. "Joey, when your partner is someone who cares about you and wants to make you happy, it doesn't hurt. If you were in bed with someone you loved, and who loved you, it wouldn't have hurt as much. It was traumatic this time because Mr. Hunt didn't care about you, and all he wanted to do was hurt you. There are some men, Joey, bad men, who gain pleasure from hurting other people. Like Mr. Hunt, all they want is to hurt you. Most people go through life without enduring the ordeal you went through; I only wish you hadn't gone through it." She thought for a moment. "If you'd been a little older, with your first experience behind you, it also wouldn't have hurt as much."
"Why?" Joey asked.
"You were still a virgin, Joey. When he raped you, he tore through that thin membrane that protects your body from outside invaders. That hurts. It also was the cause of a lot of that bleeding."
"So if I find someone who cares about me it'll be different?" When Ororo nodded, Joey sighed. "I'll never find that."
"Give yourself time," Ororo said serenely, smoothing out the wrinkles on the covers. "You have a long life ahead of you. Don't say never. You will someday."
Joey's voice was extremely soft when she said quietly, "Did this ever happen to you?"
Ororo froze. Joey's words had pulled up a memory she had tried to forget; a scared, skinny little street girl submitting to the caress of the master thief she was apprenticed to, much too young and too unprepared. She had been reluctant, but afraid of the man who wanted her body; and so she had done what she had to in order to survive. It had hurt, but it wasn't as traumatic as Joey's had been. "Not quite the same way as you experienced it, but yes, it did," she finally said, very softly. "I was about your age, maybe a little younger. I was working for the man who took me, and I was afraid to resist. I let him do what he wanted. It was probably easier for me than you, however; I didn't fight. If I had, he would probably have hurt me badly for refusing."
"If I hadn't fought him…would he have hurt me less?"
"I don't know," Ororo said to her. "I don't know if Mr. Hunt just wanted your body, or if he really wanted to cause you pain. If he'd really wanted to hurt you, fighting him probably saved your life. And so did running away." She leaned forward and kissed Joey's forehead gently. "I am glad you trusted us enough to come here for help."
"I didn't have anywhere else to go," Joey said. "There was no one else at the house but him. And you've been kind to me."
"I care about you," Ororo said. "You're a very special, unique little girl, and I'm honored to know you." She leaned forward and brushed her lips against Joey's forehead again. As she did, she heard the door behind her open.
A man rushed into the room. He was dressed impeccably, but there was a worried, distracted look on his face, and he ran to Joey's bedside. "Joette, oh, Baby, Baby, what happened, oh, God…" and he wrapped Joey in his arms in a crushing hug. He half-pulled Joey upright to do it, and Ororo laid a hand on his arm. "Mr. LeFevre, please, she needs to lie down, she shouldn't sit up…" And at just that moment Joey cried out in pain.
"Papa…ow, put me down, you're hurting me… And she looked at Ororo, tears in her eyes. "Something hurts down there, Ororo, please make it stop…"
Ororo helped her lie back down, then shoved Mr. LeFevre out of the way and pulled up the covers at the end of the bed. What she saw made her heart almost stop. "Jean!" She called, knowing Jean and Charles were likely waiting on the other side of that door. Jean pushed the door open and came in, followed closely by Charles, and she looked at what Ororo was indicating. "Just a little bleeding from the stitches, it's nothing serious," she said, grabbing a towel from a nearby chair and sliding it under Joey's hips. "But Mr. LeFevre, she must not sit up. I thought I made that clear when we brought you up here."
"I forgot," he said, slightly chastened. "I saw Joette, and I just wanted to hug her. Baby," he said to her, sitting in the chair beside the bed, "I'm sorry. I'm making arrangements for an ambulance to come and move you back to the house, so you can recover in your own room instead of infringing on these people's hospitality. Don't worry, Mrs. Seward can keep an eye on you, and I promise, I'll make Mr. Hunt pay for what he's done…"
"I have to go? I can't stay here?" Joey looked, panicked, at Ororo. "You don't want me here?"
"Of course we do," Ororo said gently, taking the girl's hand. "Don't worry. We'll work it out with your father." She looked at Mr. LeFevre.
"No, we won't," Mr. LeFevre stood, facing Ororo squarely, disregarding the distress he was causing Joey. "I appreciate everything you've done, but she is my daughter, and I will care for her--"
"Like you cared for me before?" Joey spoke hotly, her face flushed and tears still falling down her cheeks. "How could you even invite a man like that to live me in your own house? You don't care about me, Papa, you think I'm just a 'responsibility'. I heard you tell that to Mrs. Seward when you brought her home to meet me! If you really cared about me you wouldn't have hired that awful Mrs. Seward, you would never have told Mr. Hunt that he could live me without knowing what he was like, and you would have come to see me more often! If you cared about me you would have sent me the birthday money you promised. You would have given Mrs. Seward money for my clothes. This wouldn't have happened if you really cared about me! I hate you, Papa! I hate you!" She stopped then, because she was sobbing hysterically and couldn't get any more words out.
Ororo knelt beside her bed. "Shhh, Joey, shhh. It's all right. We'll work it out with your father. You can stay as long as you want. It'll be fine. Lie down, now. Try to relax." Out the corner of her eye she saw Jean injecting something into the girl's IV tube, and moments later the child was asleep. Ororo straightened the bedcovers, wiped Joey's wet cheeks with the edge of the sheet, then stood and said, 'We need to talk, Mr. LeFevre."
The man was still frozen by the bed. "What did she mean by all that?" he said.
Charles spoke for the first time. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion downstairs," he said gently. "Things have gone on in your absence that you may not know about, Henry. Ororo has been in almost daily contact with Joey; she can tell you what happens as well as Joey can. There are some major changes you need to make with your household, Henry, before you take Joey home." He gestured to the door. "Let's continue this discussion in my study."