As always, many thanks to everyone who reviewed. Sorry for taking so long to get this next bit up, but as promised, I am not abandoning the story. :)
Only a few chapters left...
Friday, May 9, 6:20 A.M.
A gas station on the outskirts of Chicago
It had taken him three days to get from the middle of Nebraska to Chicago, and he began to worry about whether he was going to be able to get anywhere further than Illinois. He had only a few dollars remaining after buying something to eat in the gas station, and he knew that what he had left wouldn't get him terribly far.
He would have tried to get a job, or at least find some way to make money, but that would have inevitably led to the questions he didn't want to answer. Well, provided he could stay tangible long enough for the questions to come up. Even though that was becoming likelier by the day, it was still something of a struggle sometimes.
Leaving the store with his provisions; Twinkies and a random caffeinated beverage, he started across the parking lot back toward the interstate. He wasn't going to get anywhere, after all, if he didn't keep walking while trying to hitch a ride.
He had only gotten about halfway across the lot when he heard the voices. It wasn't something he wanted to be hearing, but as usual, he couldn't force himself not to listen. Why did he always have to get himself involved in other people's business?
"Aww, c'mon, baby, we just want a little of your time… Woman like you's gotta get around, right?" The voice was vintage Midwestern hick, speaking with as many grammatical improprieties as could be fit into a single short sentence.
The response was calm, carefully measured, and seemingly spoken by someone with at least a high school education. "I asked you to leave me alone. Please do so."
"Looks like we got ourselves an uppity one here, eh little brother?" A second, equally annoying male voice answered.
The response, apparently from the man's brother, was so filled with pathetically obvious sexual innuendo and racial slurs that it made Lucas blush. Without even looking, it was obvious to Lucas that the men were harassing a black woman, one who didn't have any interest in their attention.
Still, his mind appealed to his fading sensibility, don't get involved. She can take care of herself, his brain insisted; there's no need for you to start something you can't finish.
But... He was a mutant, right?
He was officially the scariest thing between there and Mars, in the minds of uneducated hicks like that. In all probability, if he exhibited any trace of mutant powers, they'd go running for the hills, and not bother another innocent woman for some time.
How could he not do something?
It could be the only thing he was good for anymore: random vigilantism. He'd managed to help little Anne, and that had been at the risk of his own life. Thugs probably couldn't even touch him, let alone hurt him. He risked nothing by helping this woman, other than the possibility of being recognized, which seemed more and more remote, the further he got from San Francisco and its newspaper headlines.
That was it.
He couldn't just walk away.
If all that he could be good for was helping people, then walking away from someone he could help would just reinforce his lack of worth. If all that he could be good for was helping people, than dammit, he would do it.
Still standing with his back to the dimwits in question, he spoke. That way, if they were huge and muscle-bound, his courage wouldn't fade before he had a chance to do act.
"Don't you guys have anything better to do than bother this lady?" Then he took a deep breath and turned around. Looking at them almost made him laugh, to think that he had been nervous about men like that. In his previous life, he would have had to worry about fighting guys like that.
Not anymore, though, and never again.
It was a heady feeling, the realization that he had the upper hand in a fight with two men. The adrenalin rush alone was worth getting involved, he decided to himself as the men turned toward him.
"You just stay out of this, kid," the bigger of the two men told him in an irritated tone.
The other seemed to size him up and then dismiss him, turning back to their prey. A beautiful black woman in her mid twenties, she looked completely out of place in rural Illinois, and was the perfect choice for harassment by men like them. No one would help her after, all.
The Civil Rights movement may have been some sixty years past, but in some parts of the world, it was still as though it had never happened. And then, of course, there was the fact that some men seemed to think that they had an automatic right to bother any woman that caught their eye.
After all, every woman wants the attentions of greasy hillbillies, doesn't she?
Shrugging, Lucas decided that if he was going to go for it, he might as well go all the way. "So, are you guys hard of hearing, or are you just amazingly stupid? To be honest, I'm guessing it's the second, but I'm at least trying to hope it's the first."
The smaller man whipped around to face Lucas again, a nasty look gracing his already unpleasant features. "You just earned yerself a beatin', Boy."
Lucas smiled in return, and walked toward the man. Some part of his mind was still screaming in protest of what had to be the most insane thing he had ever done, and despite his relative certainty that he would not be hurt, a shiver of fear ran down his spine.
He was actually deliberately picking a fight with two fully grown men.
Amazingly, his walk was filled with a confidence that he didn't quite feel, and his voice rang true without even a single tremor. "Oh really? Frankly, I'd be rather impressed if you could manage to use three real words in a row, let alone manage to cause me harm."
Stepping out quickly, too quickly, the little man swung at Lucas.
For once, he was happy that his powers appeared to be based on instinct instead of conscious thought. If the intangibility hadn't activated automatically in the face of danger, that fist would have connected directly with his jaw. Instead, it went straight through Lucas' head without connecting to anything. In fact, the man's momentum was such that he almost fell down when his fist didn't find a mark.
Lucas was exceedingly glad that hadn't actually hit his nose.
Maybe it wasn't so bad to be a mutant, sometimes.
The look on the little man's face was priceless. He stared at his fist for a second, while Lucas waited for him to connect the dots.
Lucas realized that he'd been quite close to the truth with his insult to the man's intelligence, when the guy apparently decided that he needed to take another swing. Just to be certain that what he thought had happened had actually happened, Lucas supposed.
When his fist once again failed to connect, the man just stared at Lucas for a few seconds in shock. It was very hard not to smirk in response.
"Need some help?" Lucas asked smugly.
The man's fist dropped to his side lifelessly, and he slowly backed toward his brother. "Jesus, he's a goddamn mutant!"
Without another word, the two men turned tail and ran.
That had been easy.
Okay, it wasn't so bad to be a mutant at times like that.
Occasions like it might not have come up often, but it made being a mutant seem infinitely more bearable. He was actually a useful, contributing member of society, he realized happily as he watched them scramble into their truck and tear out of the lot, tires squealing.
He may not have been 'Lucas Wolenczak, Boy Genius', but at least he was something.
He still had a purpose.
He remembered the woman then, the whole reason he had become involved in the mess. The sight of a mutant had likely scared her off, as well, he thought to himself somewhat bitterly. It wasn't that he expected any thanks for helping, but…
"Thank you," came the unexpected voice from outside his head.
Clearing his thoughts, he looked up to where the woman had been. No, to where the woman was still standing. She hadn't run off, even after seeing him in all his evil intangible mutant glory. If anything, it seemed as though she were standing closer to him.
She was even more beautiful up close, with striking white hair and pale blue eyes. A very unusual combination on anyone, but with her coloring, it seemed somehow…
"Forgive me," she broke his train of thought by continuing on, for a moment, he thought that she was apologizing for thanking him. "I'm Ororo. Ororo Munroe." She stepped forward, then, and held her hand out.
He stared at it for a fraction of a second before responding.
She had seen that he was a mutant, and not only had she not run away, she wanted to shake his hand? Concentrating on anything but his tangibility, Lucas reached for her hand and hoped for the best.
His hand connected to warm flesh, and he gave a small 'thank you' to whatever deity might exist in the universe for small favors.
"It's nice to meet you, Miss Munroe. I'm… Alex." He knew that he had hesitated too long before giving a name, that it was obviously not his real name, but there was very little he could do about that in retrospect.
"It's nice to meet you, too… Alex. I appreciate the help with those two." Her eyes were so filled with understanding and kindness that he almost dared to hope that she was for real. She had seen that he was a mutant, and she was still treating him like a person. Was such a thing possible?
Against his will, Lucas found himself blushing. "It was nothing, Miss Munroe. I mean, it wasn't nothing, it's just- It was the right thing to do. And those guys needed someone to teach them a lesson." Had that last bit been the right thing to say? It had sounded a little cold to his own ears, but he couldn't deny the truth in it. He had wanted to teach those men a lesson that they wouldn't forget.
"Damn right they did." A male voice cut into the conversation without warning. A small but dangerous looking man came out of the convenience store carrying two cups of coffee and a small bag.
Lucas tried not to eye the man's warm-looking leather coat enviously. It was still rather chilly for the time of year, and Lucas had nothing to cut the biting wind that seemed as though it was never going to go away. He had left his blanket back in San Francisco with Dave, after all. He wasn't so comfortable with his homeless status yet, that he could wander around wrapped up in a military surplus blanket.
Stupid, useless pride.
He shivered involuntarily.
He looked back toward the interstate, which was going to start clogging up because of morning traffic all too soon. And if that happened, Lucas knew full well that he'd be walking along side the road until rush hour traffic was over, which was almost four hours away.
Unfortunately for Lucas, no one on their way to work or stuck in traffic picked up hitchhikers.
That did mean that it was time to extricate himself from the situation, though, or he'd be paying for his distraction later. As much as he would love to stay and talk… to find out if she really knew he was a mutant, and didn't care.
He turned back in time to see the two of them sharing a meaningful look. It didn't strike him as particularly threatening, or he would have been off like a shot. In fact, it had almost seemed… well, the opposite of threatening, whatever that might be for Alex the mutant.
The woman turned back to look at him after a moment, and smiled reassuringly. "Did you need a ride, Alex? We're headed toward New York, and we'd be happy to take you with us."
His heart caught in his chest.
She knew that he was a mutant, and she was offering him a ride?
Was it a trick? She didn't seem like she was plotting his demise, and the man wasn't even paying attention anymore, but was closing their car's gas tank in preparation to leave.
An odd calm feeling overtook him. They weren't a threat. He wasn't sure why he knew it, but there was no doubt left in him. Maybe it was just his exhaustion talking, but he didn't particularly care anymore.
A ride was exactly what he needed, and since it was what they were offering, he would take it. New York seemed like the perfect place to go, too. It would be easy to get lost in a gigantic city like that. It would be easy for a mutant to fit in, in a place where every kind of person in the world lived.
He would be safe in New York.
Friday, May 9, 7:30 A.M.
SeaQuest DSV, Captain's Quarters
It had been three very long days since Nathan had spoken to little Bethany, and while the information had been inspiring, nothing had come of it.
None of the people questioned by the UEO operatives had any memory of seeing Lucas at the scene of the fire, and neither did anyone else who lived in the area. It was as though he had been invisible while saving the girl, for all the information they were finding.
Bethany's help had allowed them to piece together a few things, at least. They knew that Lucas had taken her out through her neighbor's bedroom window, and down the fire escape on the side of the building. How Lucas had gotten into Bethany's family's apartment was still in question, though, seeing as the door was of the automatically locking variety, and had been found to still be locked when the fire had been put out. It made sense that Lucas could have come out through the door, but how he had gotten in to begin with was quite the mystery.
There was also the girl herself as a mystery, to the doctors. As long as she'd spent in a burning building, she should have been far more damaged than she had been. They insisted that she was hardly hurt at all, though. She had inhaled very little smoke, not even enough to keep her in the hospital for more than one night, and that only for observation. She was obviously a very lucky girl, Nathan thought.
Some of the crew was wondering what would have possessed Lucas to do such a thing as climb into a burning building, but Nathan didn't concern himself with that terribly much. Lucas had his moments of selfishness, certainly, but he would never back down in a crisis like that. Nathan was certain that Lucas couldn't have known that a child was in danger and not helped.
More important than the logistics and wherefores of the daring rescue of Bethany from the fire, in Nathan's own mind, was why Lucas hadn't come home. Or rather, why he hadn't returned to the seaQuest. For all that he racked his brain, Nathan couldn't find a reason that Lucas wouldn't have returned to the ship after the accident.
Unless…
Unless Lucas had somehow damaged his head in the accident, and had amnesia.
They had checked all of the San Francisco area hospital records and found nothing at all. There were no records of Lucas himself seeing a doctor, anonymous people fitting his description being seen, or anything else Nathan had thought of to look for.
Lucas had disappeared into the city, without a trace.
Once again, they knew that Lucas was alive, but had no leads to his whereabouts.
They were searching blindly in the dark, and in a city like San Francisco, Lucas was the proverbial needle in a haystack to begin with.
Try as he might to keep his spirits up, Nathan was getting more and more exhausted.
Maybe he would take some time and talk to that psychologist that the UEO had sent. The one he had requested, at Kristen's suggestion. He wasn't any great fan of psychology, but the woman seemed to be quite pleasant, and more importantly, seemed to be doing a world of good for the crew.
Krieg had actually been acting somewhat like himself again. It seemed odd to Nathan, the idea that talking to a therapist could cause such a sudden and drastic change for the better in the man, but if she could help the lieutenant so much, then maybe she could ease his mind as well.
Kristen was still concerned about Miguel's refusal to see the woman, but Nathan didn't quite understand it. If Chief Ortiz wanted to deal with it on his own, then he would deal with it in his own way, and in his own time. It wasn't as though Ortiz had been that close to the situation, after all.
Oddly enough, even Ford had seemed concerned about the Chief.
Nathan shook his head and lowered it into his hands. Sometimes, on days like the one he was just starting, he felt his age. Or maybe it was twice his age.
He wasn't sure that he understood anything that was happening on his own boat anymore. Why had Bill wanted him in charge, when some days, he couldn't even manage to act like a captain, let alone feel like one.