NB: Italics indicate telepathic speech.
There was very little conversation among the group in the staffroom. Logan and Rogue both appeared to be brooding over their own personal worries, Betsy had returned to possibly reading her book, and Sam and Teresa were deep in one of those stumbling kind of conversations where almost nothing is actually said because of embarrassment. Well, on Sam's side anyway. Teresa was smiling and nodding encouragingly at the Southern boy as he stuttered. Rahne thought she could detect a hint of hidden good-natured amusement in the Irish girl's scent, and maybe the beginnings of affection. She and Roberto left the other two alone, retreating to the other couch. Rahne had curled herself up against Roberto, head in his lap. She was silent, unsure of herself and not wanting to bring up what had happened for fear of breaking down completely. For now just having someone there was enough to provide some measure of comfort.
"So this is where y've all got t' then," Sean's voice appeared at the doorway, Moira beside him. As they entered, he glanced over at his daughter. "What's the craic, cagaran?" He sent Sam a suspicious glance, making the boy jump away from Teresa, looking guilty. "Who's this ùmaidh?"
"Da!" the girl complained.
"That's enough, Sean," Moira told him. "We've got more important things to discuss."
"Well, I think the boys who try t' seduce my daughter are pretty important, naw?" He glared threateningly at Sam, who shivered, looking as though he'd quite like to become invisible. Sean, for his pains, received a death glare from said daughter and a sigh from Moira.
"We need to discuss where Rahne is going to go now," she reminded him.
"But, what's to discuss?" Roberto asked, puzzled. "She's back to normal – she's better now – she'll be coming back with us." He looked to Logan to confirmation, but he grizzled man said nothing. "Won't she?"
"I'm afraid your confidence is misplaced, Roberto. You still have a lot to learn about people," Moira replied quietly. "Rahne unfortunately isn't all better now."
"But she is! She's not a wolf anymore!" he protested.
"That's true, but admitting you have to deal with a traumatic experience is only the first step toward full recovery, not the cure in itself."
Confusion tinted the boy's scent. "But… she's alright now, look!"
Moira merely raised an eyebrow at this, but Sean took another tactic. Softly, he uttered a single word. "Demon!" Rahne whimpered, cringing at the painful reminder. Sean looked pointedly at her. "I don't think that's alright. Do yer, Sunshine?"
"That's enough," growled Logan. "You've made your point, Cassidy. The real question isn't whether the kid's well or not – it's where's the right place to help her get over it."
"You're completely right, Logan," said Moira. "But that place is here on the Island."
"Why? Seems to me that she needs to be back with people she knows, people her own age."
"She needs proper care. We know her too, and as you can see, there are teenagers here."
"She can get treatment at the Institute. We've got Hank."
"Logan, while I have the utmost respect for Dr McCoy's abilities, the fact remains that he is a chemistry teacher, and is not trained in medicine. He simply isn't equipped to help someone suffering from severe PTSD."
"No, but maybe Chuck is."
"Betsy will be on hand to help me if I need any psychic assistance." She paused, then started another tack. "From what you've told me, Charles has more than enough to worry about at the moment. In fact you all do. The mutant situation in America is tense already, and you will be busy trying to stop Apocalypse. I'm sorry, but I simply can't allow you to take Rahne back to a place that will put that much stress on her. It's too dangerous, for her and for all of you."
There was silence for a minute. Rahne couldn't think of anything to say; most of the conversation had drifted over her head. She'd been vaguely aware that the adults had been arguing over her, but she had been unable to concentrate, and the details had escaped her. The odd feeling of separation had returned, and she felt as though thinking too hard about anything would somehow cause her to shatter.
Logan opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by Teresa, who asked quietly, "shouldn't it be Rahne's decision?"
Sean started to protest, but was silenced by Moira. "You're right, Teresa." She looked toward Rahne, who was still curled up against Roberto. "What do you want to do, honey?"
The others turned to look at her, and Rahne suddenly felt like she was back facing the accusing crowd of villagers – once again the object of everyone's attention. Somehow scared by this scrutiny, she shrank away from their stares, attempting to sink into Roberto's shoulder and hide from the crowd. She was barely noticed that a question had been asked, her thoughts instead dwelling on the fact that everyone was looking at her, focused on her. Memories of the hunt and her subsequent capture resurfaced and she was overwhelmed by a sense of fear – she was cornered again. The signals she was receiving from her nose told her otherwise, that these people, this time were concerned for her, cared for her, but the message was overruled by the growing panicky feelings that had taken over her mind in tandem with the recollections. She was trapped, they were staring, they would do it again, she was trapped… Rahne tried to burrow further into the boy beside her, desperate to escape again, her thoughts revolving in a chaotic intensity of panic. She was….
Easy there, luv. Betsy's voice sounded in her head. It's okay. No one's going to hurt you, you're okay. You're safe. With the words came a calming sensation as the telepath attempted to soothe her anxiety. Rahne felt some of her panic ease, and found that she was able to relax and loosen her death grip on Roberto's arm.
They were all still looking at her, but now, with Betsy's help and continued mental reassurance she could contain the memories and focus on the scents that were reaching her nose. Their concern was palpable, to her at least. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "I…."
"That's okay, darling," Moira said. "Just relax, okay? We just want to know whether you want to stay here on the Island for the moment, or go back to the Institute."
"Oh. Okay." Rahne tried to consider the options, but she found herself almost frozen, unable to think. She felt numb, isolated from the decision. It seemed too big, too much for her to have to do.
Why did she have to decide anyway? She couldn't keep from asking herself that question with a sudden twinge of bitterness. She was fifteen, her parents were supposed to be there, to make the big decisions for her. They were supposed to… but they were gone, weren't they? They'd left her. Anger and yearning suddenly threatened to swamp her.
Whoa, it's okay. Just relax, luv. Think through it step by step. As Betsy calmed her rising emotions again, Rahne found some way to be able to think.
She'd been happy at the Institute, on the whole. She had her boys, and the rest of her friends, and the instructors had always been friendly and helpful (even if Mr Logan showed it in an odd kind of way). It was a nice place, although she could still remember how it had never felt completely like home, to her wolf side. On the other hand Muir Island was unfamiliar to her in her human form, even if she knew every inch as a wolf. She didn't know much about the inhabitants, although her three weeks here had led her to consider them as her pack… Hang on. Rahne paused, somewhat surprised at the thought. They were her pack? She reflected on the feeling. Yes, the instincts were oddly definite. They filled her with dread at the idea of having to move, to find a new territory again. This was the home that she had made for herself as a wolf – the Island with its moors and its inhabitants. Her pack.
But you're more than a wolf, Rahne, she told herself. Logan had told her that. Perhaps she needed to go to the Institute in order to get away completely from the instincts that had led her to lose herself for weeks. She could escape from them if she went. And she could escape any reminders of Ullapool in America – she'd never have to think about Reverend Craig or the villagers again.
Except that was what she wasn't supposed to do, according to Logan. She could escape again, but then she would always be escaping. No. For once, instinct and reason agreed on something. "I want to stay here," she said finally. "For now, anyway." There, she'd made a decision. It might have been wrong, but she'd made it for herself. Somehow that made her feel more able to face the rest of her fears.
Roberto stared at her with a shocked, almost hurt expression. Rahne looked back at him, pleading for him to understand for the second time. "I'm sorry. I just… I can't leave now, or I'll never be able to deal with…," her voice faltered. "With what happened."
"Okay," he said eventually. "But you'll come back to me, right?"
"Of course." She managed a weak smile. "How could any girl resist the wonderful Roberto da Costa?"
"Exactly! You'll…," he trailed off on seeing her expression. "Oh. That was a joke."
"Sort of." But only sort of, she thought as he smiled at her again. Joking was all very well, but those beautiful white teeth were very hard to resist.
......
The rest of the goodbyes were made and the team from the Institute left Muir Island to return to Bayville, without their little Scottish werewolf, who waved to them somewhat tearfully as they departed. But Rahne found she could take some comfort from the presence of the other inhabitants of the island, the people she'd decided to stay with.
"Oh, by the way honey, I have another piece of news," said Moira as she put an arm around Rahne to lead her back inside. "This came today." She handed the girl a sheaf of white paper covered with official looking writing.
"What is it?" Rahne asked.
"They're formal papers of adoption," the woman told her. "I've arranged to become your new foster mother. I hope that's alright."
Rahne couldn't help feeling a shard of grief at this news. Gaining a foster mother meant that she had to accept that her parents were dead, that they couldn't look after her anymore. The raw, painful grief over their deaths she'd dealt with as Wolfsbane, but a hollow sort of feeling remained. But she managed to give Moira a weak smile, making the short red-haired woman breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She didn't know what else to say, but Moira's hug told her nothing more was necessary.
"Hey, this means we're foster sisters!" said Teresa. "Well, kind of, anyway."
Rahne smiled. Apparently the wolf instincts were right – she had made herself a new family here. Except that the hollow feeling was still there, lurking at the back of her mind.
NB: More bits of Gaelic translation.
what's the craic?: what's up?
Ùmaidh: idiot
Also, Moira becoming Rahne's foster mother is canon, although the time frame is probably a bit sudden as I've written it. I'm not really sure how these things work, even here in NZ. But let's assume Moira pulled various strings…