"Henry McCoy..." Steph said, lowering the phone slowly and staring blankly into space. Not Henry, she kept screaming inside her head. Another name, something, someone. He's someone important! But try as she could the only thing she received for her efforts was a headache.
"Yes?" Dr. Phyllips asked, looking at his clipboard now and not paying much more attention to her or Remy, who took the phone gently and hung it up himself.
"What?" Steph asked, looking up.
Dr. Phyllips looked at her. "What is it about Mr. McCoy?"
"Ya know him?" Steph said, eyes widening.
Dr. Phyllips looked at her strangely.
"No, you said his name," he said slowly.
Steph closed her eyes.
"Are you alright?" He frowned.
"Yeah, I, um, yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Jus'…jus' a lot on my mind, that's all."
Dr. Phyllips nodded and sighed, lowering the clipboard.
"Well it's not surprising," he said. "After all, you did somehow manage to escape a collapsed building with only some cuts and a broken arm, you're very lucky."
"Sure," Steph said bitterly.
"I know there's some guilt when you've survived something like this," Dr. Phyllips said gently. "But the bombings were not your fault, and neither were the results. You were lucky. Now I'd suggest you find someone who can pull some strings and get you back home, Miss McCoy, your family must be anxious to see you again, you and your brother."
"Brother?" Steph replied, frowning.
Remy cleared his throat. "Yeah chere, 'member me?"
Dr. Phyllips opened his mouth as Steph cursed, unable to stop herself as she jumped up.
"&! I mean…yeah, ha. Guess I was thinking 'bout home too much huh, Remy? Whoops," she said, then closed her eyes. "Anyway, we have to get going soon, and find a way home, yeah, me and Remy..." she trailed off. "Um, thanks again." Then she hurried out the door, Remy right behind her as Dr. Phyllips was left, slightly confused, behind in the room.
"Smooth," Remy said as they hurried down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the back doors to avoid the reporters.
"Sorry," Steph said crossly. "It was your idea to lie anyway."
Remy chuckled. "True, got me in. We need t' keep dat goin' though, if we're gonna stick t'gether till we get home. You can't forget me again."
Steph looked at her sling straps and pulled them tighter in annoyance.
"I apologized," she said. "N' maybe you'll tell me before ya spring out another lie again, brother."
"Maybe," Remy said, winking at her. "Maybe not. Maybe I like seein' you get nervous."
"Shut up," she growled.
"So, where we goin'?" he asked.
Steph looked around and walked up to a man going down the street.
"Excuse me," she said. The man gave her a funny look but stopped. "Do you know how to contact the government?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. McCoy," the woman said as Steph stomped her foot, growling. "But there are no planes leaving or arriving in England until further notice."
"I'm not gonna get trapped here forever!" Steph cried. "I've got a home in America, I've got a husband, and kids, and sisters and brothers and a wholedamn house full of relatives who need me back!"
The woman sighed. "Until the mutants who assassinated the Prime Minister are found there will not be any aircraft activity," she said again.
Steph was so frustrated she slammed the phone back, and Remy chuckled as she glared at the small device.
"Dat's not gonna fly you back home petite," he said.
Steph glared at him.
"Wanna make somethin' of it?" she growled.
Remy shook his head, then brightened. "Least you 'membered more o' who you are."
"What're ya talking about?" Steph looked at him.
"Dat you have all de family you listed off," Remy said. "T' de woman at de government."
"Oh that? That was a load of crap," she said. "Not memories."
Remy rolled his eyes and laughed.
"Well, ok den," he said, shrugging.
Steph shook her head and paced around the small room that she felt trapped in, that she could easily escape but most likely get caught by the police and taken in for questioning, as she was a mutant and the curfew had started again. Frustrated she kicked an empty beer can across the room.
"Where could they be!" She threw another can at Remy, who caught it easily. "How are we going to find them?"
"Dem? Your fam'ly?" he asked.
"No, the assassins," she replied. "If we find 'em they'll let us go back to America."
"Wait, you're gonna catch dese criminals, who could be anywhere in de UN Underground n' are definitely dangerous killers, jus' so you can get back home, even though you can't 'member it?" Remy said, standing up and shaking his head. "You're nuts."
Steph pulled on her coat. "&# right! N' I hate this bloody curfew. Come on, we may be able t' get t' that Underground ya mentioned earlier before the police catch us." -
"No, Steph, dis ain't…."
"Shh," Steph said, silencing Remy as they hurried down the dark streets. A light rain was beginning to fall, and even as Steph jogged she could hear the wind blowing harder and saw the raindrops slowly start to thicken and become larger. Soon it was a complete downpour, soaking her and Remy quite thoroughly.
"Where is the Underground?" she asked, stopping for a moment.
Remy shook his head. "De closest part?"
Steph shrugged and nodded.
Sighing Remy looked around, then back at her.
"You're de strangest woman I ever met," he said. "Losin' your mem'ry den fighting an entire religion of murderers t' get back t' somet'in you can't 'member anyway..."
"Religion?" Steph said, eyes narrowing. "Are these Member people a cult or what?"
"Couldn't tell you," he said, shaking his head. "C'mon, I t'ink I know where we'd get a good start." With that he took off, Steph right on his heels.
-
Steph's jaw dropped in amazement as Remy lead her into the very same bar she had wandered into a few nights ago, entering calmly and shaking his coat dry as the door swung shut behind them.
"Still running 'round after curfew?" the bartender said, looking up. Then he saw Steph and smiled. "Well, hullo miss, can I get you anything?"
"Remy?" Steph said, looking at her friend, who shook his head.
"Nah, only some information," he said, walking up to the bar and sitting down. Steph followed suit and suddenly the bartender looked a bit more suspicious.
"What kinda of information would you be wanting?" he asked.
"Information on the Members," Steph said. The bartender dropped the glass he had been cleaning and it shattered as the few men in the bar looked up, their eyes glinting. Remy looked around, but Steph kept her gaze even on the bartender, who was suddenly looking flustered.
"You're very lucky miss, very lucky indeed, that the wrong chaps weren't in here tonight to hear you say that," he said, eyes narrowing.
"So dey've been in here?" Remy said, arching an eyebrow.
"Of course they were in here!" the bartender said in a low voice. "The very night you stumbled in miss, the man sitting in the seat your friend now rests on. He was one of the Member chaps, that's why he looked away when this bloke ran through and brought the police in." Remy looked surprised.
"Really?" he said.
"So have they been in any more than that?" Steph asked.
"Off n' on," the bartender said, rolling his shoulders as he got another glass and started to clean it, ignoring the crunching glass under his feet. "If there's more then one they'll sit in that corner, right over there, and whisper the night away, till they leave. Always coming in after curfew is set, and leaving before it's lifted. Sort of like you two. If you want to catch them, stay here a few nights; they'll show. If you're lucky you'll catch their leader maybe."
"Leader?" Steph said, sitting up straight. "What's he like?"
"That bloke? Bloody werewolf, I'd say." The bartended shook his head. "But I don't turn mutants like you two away, and I'm not stupid enough to forbid the Members from coming in, long as they don't cause me too much trouble."
"Fine then, we'll stay," Steph said resolutely, smacking her hand on the counter.
The bartender shrugged and moved away from them, talking briefly to another man along the counter about goods in the back, then moved off and started to sweep the glass on the floor away.
Steph looked over at Remy, who chuckled.
"See chere? Dis is why I told you t' never trust no one here, no matter how nice dey are."
-
Kurt walked into Saint Peter's with his image inducer carefully hidden up a sleeve of his jacket, Kitty behind him as he strode up to the reception desk. A nurse greeted him.
"Can I help you sir?" she asked.
"Yes," Kurt said. "I am looking for my daughter, I vos told she vould be here."
"Who is she?" the nurse asked, getting out a list of names.
"Steph, Steph McCoy."
"You're not the only chap looking for her," a nurse nearby said. "The most persistent man kept calling until he got through to her…I don't know why. But dear…she's already left the hospital with her brother."
"Brother?" Kitty asked, scowling. "Bobby can't be here…."
Kurt shook his head.
"Are you sure she is not here?" he asked, throat tightening.
"'Fraid not," the nurse said.
"Vell…thank you anyvay," Kurt said, tipping his hat to the two nurses, who nodded back.
"Now what are we gonna do?" Kitty asked as they walked back out the front doors.
"Find Steph," Kurt said. "And Bobby."
"But Bobby's home," Kitty argued. "He called me just a few minutes ago, and he can't ice slide that fast. Besides, he'd have just taken Steph home right away."
"Vell…then ve vill ask who Steph vos vith and vy she called him her brother," Kurt said, shrugging even though the thoughts bothered him as well. "Ven ve find her."
"I'll call the others," Kitty said, taking out her cell phone. "They'll need to know."
-
"You lost her!" Scott said tersely as he paced in front of Hank.
"No Scott," he said wearily, crouching on the floor with his head in his hands. "I merely forgot to ask where Stephanie was regrouping. I assumed she would remain at the hospital…."
"But she hasn't!" Scott said, shaking his head. "Why she hasn't, I don't know. But still..."
"Scott, calm down," Bobby said quietly from his chair near the phone. "Steph won't keep us waiting, she'll call and tell us where she is…."
"What if she can't?" Scott demanded. "If there are no phones? Or if she gets into trouble?"
Hank fell backwards on his butt with a soft thump and leaned against the back of the couch, looking at the ceiling.
"At least it is determined that she is fine for the moment," he said. "We know she wasn't…we know she's alright, we now only have to wait until she contacts us or the news reaches us another way on where she is taking refuge and when she'll be returning."
"I agree with Hank," Jubilee said. "We just have to wait it out."
Scott's lips pursed but he said nothing, sitting down on an armchair and glaring at the phone as if to frighten it into ringing and bring news of Steph's whereabouts. But the call never came.
